Sara-Kate's Spirit

by Natalie-Nicole Bates

  As Sara-Kate printed off the day’s orders, she still felt the rush of her actions.

  The kiss.

  What made her so bold after all of these years to initiate her kiss with Reed? Just his presence was changing her. From his arrival after his death, to that first night she held him in her arms in bed and comforted him with her touch and kiss, to her taking the initiative to kiss him this morning.

  Not that he resisted.

  She knew he was more than willing to kiss her all morning, all day...perhaps even longer.

  When she was alive all of those years ago and engaged to James, she never dared to be so bold. James always initiated their kisses, which when compared to Reed, were nothing more than a few limp pecks to her lips.

  James.

  He was someone she needed to keep far from her mind, to keep barriers erected around herself at all times.

  For her own safely.

  He was one of the reasons—but not the only one—her afterlife was never smooth. Someday she would forgive him for his betrayal after her death. Or maybe it was just her own anger and pain that continued to linger, and not really a betrayal after all. James was now in his own hell...literally. She would never let herself get close enough to him in this life to get pulled into that hell. James, she knew, was not the same man she was once engaged to, who she was once was in love with.

  She exhaled a deep sigh. Reed’s appearance in her life was unleashing a flood of memories of her own past life and death. While he was more than welcome in her life, her past life was not.

  It was time to get to work. Soap needed to be cut and wrapped. Orders needed to be filled. If there was time, candles needed poured. Every item she made was time consuming. She couldn’t make them fast enough to keep them in stock, and the holidays would soon be upon her, doubling, maybe even tripling her required stock.

  She reached for a tray of rose scented soap. Closing her eyes, she held her hands a few inches above the tray, and imparted healing and happiness from her fingertips.

  Her secret own ingredient in her creations.

  The little reward to each of her customers they could never explain, yet came back for time and time again, and then referred their friends and families to her little business.

  The sound of the door to the sun porch opened and she startled, her eyelids flying open.

  Reed stood in the doorway.

  Unconsciously, she laid a hand over her furiously beating heart, unbalanced by his catching her infusing the soap with her gifts.

  “Reed, you scared me.” She said the first thing that came to mind.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

  He flashed a sexy grin, and her knees went weak. Reed Thayer certainly had a hold over her in such a short period of time. Even with James, she never felt like this.

  “That looked rather intense, what you were doing there,” he commented.

  Her face flushed. She didn’t want to lie, but he wouldn’t understand the truth...not yet, anyway. Still, she had to tell him something of the truth. “I’m just trying to pass along some positive vibes to my customers.”

  He nodded, and she sensed he accepted her explanation. She opted for a change of subject. “Do you need something? How is the writing going?”

  “That’s kind of why I’m here. I wanted to ask you something. Feel free to say no.”

  Now this intrigued her. “What is it?”

  “What would you think about my staying on here with you for a while? I mean, I have money, I fully intend to pay my way. It’s just that...I feel such a connection here, and I think I could get a lot accomplished. As I said, feel free to say no. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you’re not a bed and breakfast.”

  A delightful zing ricocheted up her spine. Partly because she now had a way to delay telling him the truth about himself and his death, and subsequent new life, until she could find the right words and the right time. Also, because she didn’t want him to leave.

  She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to sound desperate or needy. “Sure, you can stay on as long as you like. I enjoy your company. The only stipulation is, no payment. I’ve been blessed, and I’m happy to share with you.” She couldn’t tell him his money would not work in this dimension. That he was a man whose only material possessions are what he showed up with at her house after his death.

  “Okay, great. Just let me pull my weight around here. I can cook, clean, help you out here.”

  “That sounds like a deal,” she smiled.

  He leaned against the door frame. “So...what do you have going on here?”

  “This is my little business,” she stated proudly. “I make soap, candles, potpourri, oils...other things as well, depending on my time, and what materials I have on hand. I use as much as I can from my garden. I sell everything from my webstore. Every day I print off the orders, fill, box, and label each order, and the courier picks up. I then make more stock.”

  She reached for the long soap cutter from her bench.

  “That’s some knife!” he exclaimed.

  It was some knife. A double handled eighteen inch blade with a protective wooden cover. “I had it specially made. It gets the job done.” She held up the blade.

  “Do you want me to cut?” he offered.

  She laughed lightly. “I know you want to start off with the fun stuff, but after doing this for so long, I can cut them to the exact size and weight just by sight. It saves time from having to weigh each individual item.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Impressive. Just how long have you been at this?”

  “A while now,” she evaded. Again, she couldn’t tell him the truth, or he would become suspicious. Maybe he was already trying to figure out how old she was. Although she was over one hundred years, she never aesthetically aged passed twenty years. Tell the man she’d been at this business for more than a decade, and he was likely to think she was something out of Shangri-La. Now she was becoming weary of all of the half-truths she kept telling him. “Are you any good at wrapping gifts?” she asked.

  “Ah...when I buy a gift for someone I usually have it professionally wrapped. So I’ll say no.”

  “Well, if you really want to help, then now is as good a time as any to learn...that is, if you really want to help.”

  “I do, let’s get to it.”

  She showed him the bins of premade soap, the coordinating colored tissue, ribbon, and finally, the gold colored heart sticker to seal each package.

  “It’s super easy.”

  Placing her hands over his, she guided him through the simple procedure of tissue wrapping each cake of soap. As his warm body stood only mere inches from her back, she could feel his body heat emanate from him, and she bit down on her lower lip to break the need for him that was steadily building inside her. When she felt the warm buzz in her head, she took a step sideways to put some much needed space between them, and reached for a handful of precut ribbon.

  “Here you go,” she said using her best teacher voice, and handed him a ribbon. “Just tie that nicely around the package.”

  He held the ribbon between his fingers. “Sara-Kate’s Spirit. What a clever name!” he marveled.

  She forced her concentration to his nimble fingers as he expertly tied the bow. She couldn’t help but wonder what those nimble fingers could do to her body.

  Finally, he presented her with a perfectly wrapped, tied, and stamped bar of lavender soap, ready for shipping. For someone who claimed to never wrap a gift, he was a fast study. “That’s beautiful, Reed.”

  When he connected his dark eyes to hers, she saw a certain intenseness that had nothing to do with wrapping soap.

  “Do you know what else is beautiful?” He wrapped a tendril of her ponytail around his finger.

  “What is that?” she asked, her voice a slight quiver.

  He laid his hand on her cheek. “This.”

  She parted her lips to respond, but before she could even
think of the words, his lips covered hers. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, wound her arms around his neck, and allowed her soft curves to mold against his hard ones. This was perfect. This was heaven, was all she could think.

  And, it felt right.

  Like they were always meant to be.

  But as his kiss deepened, Sara-Kate was rocked by the sudden intrusive thought that before she allowed this relationship...whatever it was...to continue to the next level, she had to tell him what he really was, no matter that the consequences might be dire.

  “Sara,” he spoke against her lips. “I don’t know how I got here, but all I know is I am so happy that it happened. I’ve never fallen so hard or so fast for any woman.”

  The guilt that oppressed her since his arrival now doubled. She couldn’t get the words out to tell him the truth. “I’m glad you’re here, too, Reed.” With that, she stepped back from his embrace. She then turned back to the soap, and lifted the knife. She felt selfish and small for not being able to tell him what he so needed to know. So for now, she would deprive herself of the affection he was so willing to give, and that she so desperately needed.

  This time she was successful

  If he approached her again in the same manner, she would be powerless to stop him.

  ***

  The guilt remained with Sara-Kate.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, she taught Reed how to scent and pour candles. He seemed to relish learning a new skill, and it pleased her to teach him.

  But the guilt remained for not telling him the truth, putting off the inevitable yet again.

  Through dinner, the guilt remained, when he kissed her in the hallway before disappearing into his bedroom that night, she felt burdened by her guilt.

  All night, it continued to keep her awake. She couldn’t go on much longer without breaking down.

  The next morning, she distracted herself with baking cookies for the assisted living center. She sent six dozen cookies each week, all bestowed with her special love and healing. Today, she carefully removed three dozen chocolate chip cookies from the cooling racks and loaded them into pastel pink boxes.

  As she prepared to repeat the same procedure with apricot jam thumbprints, Reed appeared in the kitchen, notebook and pen in hand.

  “Good morning, Sara.” He pressed a kiss against her closed lips.

  She closed her eyes, and took in the heady fragrance of her mint soap mingled with the essence of his warm skin.

  “Good morning, Reed. Would you like breakfast?” she asked.

  “I’m just going to grab a cup of coffee, and go into the garden while the sun is shining. There’s some ominous clouds off in the distance. I think it might storm later.”

  The words “ominous” and “storm” seemed to resonate through her being. The inevitable was coming soon, she knew.

  One way or another.

  “Do you need any help here?”

  His question broke the black thoughts in her mind.

  “No thanks, I’m just about finished. Someone from the assisted living center will be along in a little while to pick up these cookies.”

  He shook his head. “You are so amazing. Running a business, and you still have time and desire to make cookies for other people. How did I get so lucky to find you?”

  She watched him go about making a cup of coffee. With a final smile, he headed into the back garden. Obviously his question about how he got so lucky was a rhetorical one. To Sara-Kate, she knew he probably wouldn’t feel so lucky, or so warm about her, when he discovered she withheld the truth from him.

  With a shrug of her shoulders, she went back to the task at hand. When the cookies were securely boxed, she carried the boxes to the foyer, just in time for the doorbell.

  When she looked through the peephole, her day got a little worse. Outside her door was Dr. Andy Stark, the physician from the Fallen Oak Assisted Living facility. For the better part of the last two years, Dr. Andy tried relentlessly to convince her to go on a date with him.

  In a normal woman’s life, Dr. Andy was the perfect marriage material. Straight, successful, he was not only handsome, but kind at heart as well.

  In Sara-Kate’s world, he was off limits. Spirits and humans could not share a life together, romantic or otherwise.

  He knew she never left the house, and in his own gentle way, he tried to convince her that he could be the man who would save her, change her. He didn’t realize he could not change what she was.

  Yet, Dr. Andy Stark was a man who would not be deterred, no matter how many times she rejected his invitations, no matter how many times she would not invite him beyond her foyer.

  Today, she knew, would be no different.

  She turned on a smile, and opened the door. “Hello, Dr. Andy.”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “Sara-Kate, always a pleasure to see you.”

  Now to try to hurry him out.

  “Here are the cookies,” she patted the boxes. “Chocolate chip and apricot thumbprints, fresh from the oven.”

  “You know, it’s such a beautiful morning, and there won’t be too many more like today, let’s take a walk,” he suggested as he ran a hand along his perfectly coiffed blond hair.

  She let out an audible sigh. Every time this man showed up at her door it was always the same thing. “I’m sorry, Andy, but you know I don’t leave the property.”

  He dared to reach for her wrist, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s just a walk, Sara-Kate.”

  She twisted out of his grip and turned away. “I don’t go out, Andy.”

  “Listen Sara-Kate, I’m a very patient man. I know you have issues—that someone in your life has hurt you in the past, and now you’ve got into a comfortable little existence in your own little world. It’s not healthy, and even though you might think you’re happy, you’re really not.”

  Her anger immediately flared. “Thank you for telling me how I feel,” she snapped.

  “I’m not trying to tell you how you feel, Sara-Kate. I’m saying...” he paused and gestured around the foyer. “This isn’t living...this isn’t a life being cooped up within four walls.”

  “It’s still my life,” she answered.

  “I can help you get over this agoraphobia you have,” he stated.

  “So now you’re a psychiatrist?”

  “Not a psychiatrist, but I am a doctor, and I know enough. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could figure it out.”

  She’d had enough of Dr. Andy and his diagnosis. “You need to leave now. Contrary to what you believe, I do have a life inside these walls.”

  His expression softened. “Sara-Kate, the last thing I want to do is upset you. I really care about you. When I’m around you, I feel such a sense of calmness and well-being. You have some kind of gift. I can only imagine what good you could do with that gift if you shared it, maybe visited the care facility, and just spoke with the patients.”

  All she wanted to do at that moment was clamp her hands over her ears to drown him out. She already had guided a person right into her grave, and the experience changed her profoundly. She could not let it happen again.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Sara-Kate turned at the sound of Reed’s voice behind her. His dark eyes were narrow as he glared at the doctor. His arms folded defensively over his broad chest and tight fitting t-shirt.

  “No, Andy is here to pick up the cookies for the assisted living center, and he’s now leaving,” she said.

  When she turned back to Dr. Andy, she could see the shock in his expression. After the last few years of her always being alone when he arrived, Reed’s appearance likely thrown him, and maybe that was a good thing. Perhaps his seeing Reed would dissuade his future advances.

  “Thank you for picking up the cookies, and goodbye,” she said finally.

  There was a distinct sense of relief when she closed the door. Reed still looked at her inquisitively.

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped, but it sounded rather he
ated.”

  She waved a hand. “It’s nothing, Dr. Andy thinks he can save me from myself.”

  His brows shut up. “Excuse me?”

  He thinks I’m agoraphobic, and that I can’t leave the house because of my own mind.”

  Reed shifted from foot to another, as if unsure how to reply.

  She laughed lightly. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Well, Sara, when is the last time you left the house?”

  “Oh...I don’t know, a long time, I guess. Years, actually,” she admitted staring down at the hardwood floor of the foyer.

  “Why?” he asked, truly puzzled.

  “I...I had a few very bad experiences in my life, Reed. Staying within my four walls is just...safer. I don’t expect you to understand.”

  He stepped closer to her, and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Try me, Sara-Kate.”

  There was so much sincerity in his dark eyes. Could she tell him? Tell him some of her story, anyway. Would he really understand? Perhaps if she did, the constant knot of pain and guilt she always carried with her would unravel to some degree. Any relief would be welcome.

  “Okay, okay, let’s sit down.”

  He followed her to the couch and sat beside her, his knee mere inches from her own. Where to start? She wondered.

  She folded her hands on her lap. “Years ago, before I started Sara-Kate’s Spirit, before I moved here, I was working as sort of a...” she paused, searching for the right phrase. Spirit guide would not due under these circumstances. “A personal counsellor.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched then. “Ah...Sara, just how old are you?” he asked.

  “That’s not important right now, Reed.” Again, the overwhelming need to tell him everything flooded over her. Her instincts were keen, and she knew Reed suspected all was not the same within his life. Still, she pressed on with the tiny, but defining part of her own little story.

  “The girl in my charge was thirteen. She came from a very good family. Two parents, two younger siblings. But her life just spiraled into depression and anxiety. She was on all sorts of medications trying to balance her moods. My part was to try to guide her to healing, and living her life to the fullest.”

  She stopped momentarily to collect her thoughts. This part of her spirit existence was one of the most devastating.