One-Click Buy: September Harlequin Blaze

by Jo Leigh

  “That sounds good,” he said.

  “You are going to sleep for a few hours before you try to drive all day, right?” she asked, shifting into her protective oldest-cousin role.

  “Yeah, I’ll catch a few hours before I start.” He knew he was too tired to drive, and he could sleep four hours and still be on the road by ten. He’d let Nanette and Jenee tackle the rest of the letters this afternoon. Maybe they’d find something and have it waiting for him when he returned. If he was lucky. “Let me be lucky,” he said softly as the cane reeds blurred together in the field. He squinted, thinking that he really was exhausted if his eyes couldn’t even focus. But then, the air sounded different too, as if he could hear the reeds moving against each other in a soft, sweet cadence.

  Dax leaned his head closer to the window to listen, then he unlatched it and pushed it open, trying to see if he could hear the song again. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The cane, moving. It sounds like-” he heard it again, crystal clear “-someone singing, maybe?” Then, as the sound intensified, Dax made out a few of the words. “Something about the leaves in the fall, fluttering to the ground.”

  Nanette moved from the table to stand beside him. “I don’t hear anything. Are you sure it’s the cane, or are you hearing a spirit?”

  Dax closed his eyes and definitely heard a song, and a little girl singing it. “You’re right. It’s a little girl.” He opened his eyes. “I’ve got another ghost coming.” He typically heard ghosts for a day or so before their arrival, which meant that by tomorrow or the day after, he’d likely have another little girl spirit that would need his help crossing. And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t come alone.

  9

  ON THURSDAY, three days after he’d found the letters in the attic and had first heard the little ghost singing, Dax steered his car along the darkened curves of River Road in an effort to get to the plantation, and to the assignment that he felt certain was waiting for him in the sitting room. Although he’d been anxious for the spirit to arrive, since he assumed her coming meant he might see Celeste again, he hadn’t minded that it took her a few days to find her way to the Vicknair plantation. In the past three days, he’d crammed in a visit to each and every doctor’s office on his route, even though that had meant sixteen-hour workdays, in order to justify taking some time off if Celeste reappeared.

  And he truly believed if there was any way she could make it back through with his new assignment, she would, particularly if Grandma Adeline was willing to help.

  He turned the Beemer into the driveway and the little girl’s song grew so loud within his head that he had to concentrate to navigate the gravel road ahead. He’d left the house while it was still dark this morning, and it was dark again now, but he’d accomplished his task, clearing his schedule to allow several days to help the young spirit, and to, hopefully, spend time with Celeste.

  The big, bold branches of the magnolia trees lining the driveway swayed slightly with the breeze from the levee, and the song in Dax’s mind seemed to mimic their movement, chiming in about the colorful leaves of autumn. Her voice, a lyrical tinkling, echoed from the trees, and Dax wondered how the young spirit had died.

  He’d expected to see her sooner. It didn’t usually take this long between the time he heard the spirits and they arrived needing help. However, on occasions when a child was on his or her deathbed, he had heard the songs, or laughter, or tears of the final days. He assumed that to be the case now, and he prayed the young girl hadn’t suffered as she died.

  Where the driveway circled around a majestic oak, he noticed that in the past few days, the big tree had lost the majority of its leaves. Though still towering and formidable, it looked different with the missing foliage, no longer the picture of life, but of barrenness, of the way it felt to be alone.

  The way Dax felt without Celeste.

  “Let her come back with this ghost.”

  Moonlight spilled freely through the bare branches of the tree and cast snakelike shadows on the ground. The powers that be often sent signs before a spirit’s visit, a hint of what was to come with a medium’s assignment. He hoped the eerie vision produced by the massive oak wasn’t a sign that this assignment wouldn’t go the way he wanted.

  He grabbed his briefcase and had barely made it out of the car when he heard Nanette’s voice, calling from the porch.

  “It just got here,” she said.

  “What?” The wind peppered him with leaves as he walked toward her.

  “Your assignment. I was in the sitting room rereading some of the letters from the attic when it showed up on the tea service a few minutes ago. I tried calling your cell but didn’t get an answer.”

  “I was probably already on River Road,” he said. “Not much of a reception by the levee.”

  “Well, it worked out good then, didn’t it? You were almost home.” She took his bag when he reached the top of the porch. “Here, I’ll put that up so you can go get your assignment. You hear your ghost?”

  “Yeah, she’s been singing all day,” he sighed, pressing his fingertips against his temple; the song was even louder now than before.

  “And? Have you heard Celeste too?”

  “No, but I didn’t hear her last time either. She just showed up with Prissy.”

  “Maybe she’ll show up again,” Nanette said hopefully. “And maybe she’ll bring us more information on where to find the answers for saving the house.”

  “You still don’t want to use the letters?” He entered the foyer, then started up the stairs toward the second floor with her following in his wake.

  “No,” she said, her dismay evident in the single word.

  “What if Grandma Adeline expected you to? You have to believe that she meant for you to use them, particularly with the battles noted, the dates, the names. It’s everything we need.”

  “Yep, everything we need, and then some.” She laughed softly. “I’m considering it, but right now, I’m leaning toward adding those letters to every other secret we keep in this house.”

  Dax shook his head. “Your call, but I really think that she told us about them because she meant for us to use them.”

  “She also said that the attic held what you were looking for too, though, didn’t she?” Nan reminded him. “And you haven’t found anything that helps you with Celeste, have you?”

  “Haven’t had much of a chance to look, since I’ve been trying to do a week’s worth of sales calls in three days.”

  “Well, I haven’t found anything that would help you either,” she admitted. “And I have kept an eye out as I read the letters.”

  “Thanks.” He entered the sitting room, where, sure enough, a lavender-tinted envelope graced the center of the ornate tea service. “Guess it’s time to see if I get one ghost, or two.”

  “I’ll leave you to it.” Nanette scooped up a box of letters from a side chair in the sitting room, then turned to go. “Let me know about your new ghost, and let me know if Celeste shows too.”

  “I will.” Wincing at the little girl’s song, now escalating to a near fever pitch, Dax sat on the red settee and reached for the letter, eager to get started on his assignment and to, hopefully, see Celeste again.

  The door snapped shut with Nanette’s departure, and Dax opened the envelope. The little girl’s song immediately ceased, and he sensed that overwhelming peaceful presence, the sign that a ghost knew he was going to take care of her needs.

  As usual, the letter smelled of magnolias and reminded him of Adeline Vicknair, the way her scent had always cloaked him when she hugged him, and how she used to sit on the front porch of the plantation when the big trees lining the driveway were covered in her favorite blooms.

  He withdrew the three sheets of paper composing his assignment and quickly read the top one, his grandmother’s letter on her trademark scalloped stationery.

&nb
sp; Dax scanned the information and learned that the young girl’s name was Angelle Millet and that the reason for death was cancer. That explained Dax hearing her for several days. More than likely, she had been on the brink of death, and her spirit was already trying to soar, even before the body had stopped breathing.

  Requirement for Passage-Attending her funeral, checking on her parents, and viewing her elementary school’s fall program being performed in her honor.

  Dax nodded and smiled. No wonder she had been singing about the season; she was practicing the songs for the show.

  He quickly scanned the sheet of rules and read the final sheet, the official document directing his grandmother to assign Angelle to one of her grandchildren.

  He picked up the pages and returned them to the envelope, placed it back on the tea service and watched it disappear. Then he turned, scanned the room and waited for Angelle to appear with a golden-haired beauty by her side.

  “Hi,” a crystal-clear voice said from behind him.

  Dax shifted in the seat and saw a beautiful little girl, her dark skin accented by the traditional spirit glow, and her eyes alight with excitement. She looked to be around ten years old, with full cheeks, a wide smile and several long braids tipped in vibrant-colored bows.

  “Look, I’ve got my weight back,” she said, grinning. “And my hair!” She ran a hand down one of the braids and smiled. “Mama said I’d have long hair again, when I went to heaven. She was right, even if I haven’t crossed the whole way yet. And Ms. Adeline said I’ll get to see Mama again, and Daddy, and the kids at school. I’ll even get to watch the play, right?”

  “Yes, you will,” Dax said, glad he could grant her request and trying his best to hide his own sadness at seeing her here, in this room, alone.

  She nodded. “They promised me that, no matter what, they’d go to the fall program. We knew I wasn’t going to make it until then-the doctors said so-but I wanted them to go. My friends are going to sing my song.”

  “Your song?” he asked.

  “Yep.” She bobbed her head. “I wrote it while I was in the hospital watching the leaves fall outside my window. It’s a pretty song, I think.”

  Dax smiled. “Yes, it is.”

  “You’ve heard it?” she asked, her surprise evident. “How?”

  “I’ve heard you singing it for the past few days,” he said, “while I waited for you to come see me. And you’re right, it’s a very pretty song.”

  “So, what do I do? I can see Mama and Daddy getting ready to tell me goodbye.” She shifted her weight to one foot and peered past Dax, and he knew she was checking on her folks.

  “Think of them, and of how much you want to see them, and you’ll go straight to them,” he explained.

  “And I can stay with them for the next few days, right? Until my school program on Saturday, so I can watch all of my friends sing my song, right?”

  “Yes, you can,” he said. “And if you need me, for anything at all, just think of me, and I’ll know your thoughts. If you need me to come to you, then all you need to do is think of that, and I’ll get there.”

  “You’ll come hear me sing too, won’t you? It’s at Norco Elementary. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes, I do,” Dax said. “It isn’t that far from here.”

  “So you’ll come? The program is Saturday night, two days away. You’ll get to hear my song again if you come.”

  “Well, then, I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Angelle smiled broadly. “Oh, I almost forgot. Ms. Adeline said to tell you that-” She squished her nose as she apparently fought to remember something. “I knew I’d forget the name.”

  “Was it Celeste?” Dax asked. Please.

  “Yes, that’s it! Celeste. Ms. Adeline said to tell you that she was sorry, Celeste couldn’t come back right now, but that she may be able to come for my program to hear me sing.” She smiled brightly.

  Dax sat down on the settee and swallowed thickly. She couldn’t make it through. Why not? What kept her over there? And away from him? “Did she say why Celeste couldn’t come now?”

  The little girl shook her head, and her long braids swayed with the motion. “No, but I think she was just too tired. She looked very tired.”

  Leaning forward, Dax stared into her glimmering black eyes. “You saw her? You saw Celeste?”

  Angelle nodded. “Yes, she was there, in the middle part, before I met Ms. Adeline. She’s got beautiful long hair, doesn’t she? And it’s so blond that it nearly looks like gold. I really like the way it curls.”

  “Did she say anything to you?” he asked. “Celeste? Did she know you were coming here, and did she say anything to you? Or say anything at all that you could tell me?” Something that would help him know how to help her?

  “I only remember her saying one thing, but I didn’t know what it meant.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘I need him,’ and that was it. Just that she needed somebody. But Ms. Adeline told her that she was still too weak, and she needed to get stronger.”

  “Did she say how long? How long until she’d be strong enough?” Dax asked.

  “She said it’d be a few more days this time, and that made Celeste sad. I felt sorry for her because she really wanted to come with me. Maybe I could have helped her see whoever she needed to see, huh? Do you know who it is?”

  Dax felt sick. “Yes, I think I do.”

  “Oh, look, there’s my little sister with Mama and Daddy,” she said, turning her attention back to what was happening at her home. “I’m going to them now. Thank you for helping me, and I’ll see you at the show, right?”

  “Yes, I’ll see you at the show.”

  Dax watched her take a step toward the direction of her parents, then disappear. Then he let his head rest against the back of the settee in frustration while he looked at the ceiling and pondered why Celeste was so weak, and why no one, especially Adeline Vicknair, was able to help her through.

  He swung out his arm and backhanded the tea service across the room. The pitcher clanged loudly as it pinged across the hardwood floor, as did the cups and the tray.

  Placing his hands against his forehead, he scrubbed them down his face and embraced the aching throb overpowering his temples. It hurt like hell, and right now, it suited him fine.

  He sat there in the stillness with his head cradled in his hands and realized that life really did suck. Then he heard a soft thunk on the table, then another, and another, and he moved his hands away and opened his eyes.

  The tea service was back in place, the tray in the center of the table, pitcher perched on one side and two dainty silver cups on the other, as though nothing had happened at all. But something had happened.

  He’d had enough.

  He glared at the tray and contemplated tossing it again, but it would just find its way to the table once more. Even his anger couldn’t be sated in this damn room. “If you can’t send her back now, then at least help me figure out what’s happening to her, and how to help her stay.”

  Then, while he stared, a small lavender card, similar to the one Adeline Vicknair had sent three nights ago, materialized in the center of the gleaming tray with his name written boldly across the top. Dax leaned forward, picked it up, flipped it over and read the single line of text, written in his grandmother’s definitive swirling script.

  Patience, chère. I’m doing the best I can.

  10

  CELESTE PRACTICALLY jogged down the darkened path toward the middle. She hadn’t felt this energetic, this lively, this excited in a very long time, mainly because she knew that Adeline Vicknair would let her pass back through. Celeste had no doubt she was strong enough now. She didn’t know what had happened when she’d heeded the call of those voices, but whatever it was, it had strengthened her, and for that she was grateful. Plus, the crying had stopped, and she was grateful for that as
well.

  The only sound echoing from this passage now was her footsteps slapping against the cool stone as she ran. No sobbing. No screams. No pleading voices calling for her to come back. And the old saying was true-silence was golden-because their silence meant Celeste didn’t need to go back to them, not right now. Right now, she could go where she wanted, and where she wanted to go was…to Dax.

  She entered the middle room to find Adeline Vicknair, glowing brightly, her long silver hair floating around her head.

  The older woman clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly as Celeste entered, but her dark eyes sparkled. She wasn’t fooling Celeste; she was glad that she had returned, and she was almost as excited about letting her see Dax again as Celeste was excited to see him.

  Celeste thought of him, the way he’d looked right before she’d been pulled away. His muscled body gloriously naked before her as he lay on the bed, the most tempting male she’d ever seen. Broad shoulders, even broader because of his arms tied to the post. His chest, heaving with thick, ragged breaths as she crawled on top of him and kissed that part of him that was so hard, so ready and so deliciously responsive.

  She’d never thought she would have the nerve to do that to a man. No, that wasn’t true. She’d dreamed of doing that to a man, if she ever found a man she wanted that much. But she’d had a fear, not of actually doing it, but of not doing it well.

  She thought of Dax’s powerful growl through his release.

  Oh, yes, she’d done it well. And she’d do it again.

  She was going back through to him today; one way or another, she’d make Adeline let her through. She had to. It’d been, what, two days? Three? She wasn’t certain, having lost track of time when she’d rested down that other path, but she didn’t care how long had passed. What mattered now was how long she could stay this time.

  “You’re stronger,” Adeline said.

  Celeste nodded. “Much stronger.”