He folded himself into his leased sports car and headed back to The Watermelon Patch Motel. Cheap but clean was their motto. For a small fee he could park in the garage used by the motel owner. He could barely keep his eyes open on the way home.
Today had been long. Driving fifty miles to and from the country club meant none of the locals would be likely to see him working. He stayed on the road so much he had less time to gamble. Who would’ve believed Peter Jackson would take a real job? And the tennis-pro job provided him good hours and plenty of lonely women who tipped well. Since meeting Sarah he’d been celibate, but the tennis pro job often included bedroom perks. Funny, last year he’d probably have taken advantage of any good offers. Meeting Sarah had changed his priorities.
He’d heard about a job as a house sitter for the summer. It was the kind of house he’d have someday - large, beautifully furnished and in a ritzy part of town. That should be a nice place to take Sarah so she wouldn’t realize how broke and desperate he was. He certainly couldn’t take her to his Watermelon Patch room.
By the time he stood in front of his door he’d planned the small wedding he’d convince Sarah they needed after their romantic Atlanta weekend. He had barely stepped into his room when someone yanked him and slammed him against the wall. Oh, God, no. Not tonight.
Foul breath washed over his face. He was nose to nose with Perry, a nightmare, courtesy of Mr. Avery.
“You’re home early, Pretty Boy. Musta been a boring date or a bad card game.” Bad Breath’s companion, Yancy, left the bed and switched on a light.
“What happened to you? Ugly duds you’re wearing. Did you finally gamble away your fancy clothes?”
“Yeah,” Perry said. “You don’t look like yaself. That pretty lady won’t marry you with those clothes.”
Peter didn’t feel like explaining anything to these gorillas. “Would you just do what you came to do and leave?” He pushed at Bad Breath who actually backed off.
“Getting tough. You actually play tennis or just tell the women you do?”
Yancy tapped his partner on the shoulder. “All his good booze is gone. Let’s just get this over and get out.”
Get it over? That doesn’t sound good.
“Hey, pretty boy, find some decent duds and be ready to go for a ride tomorrow, around nine. Boss wants to see you. You’ll make your next payment to him in person.”
Bad breath laughed. “He’s got a job for you.”
“I’ve got a job.”
“No, I mean a job,” he emphasized as though Peter hadn’t heard him. “You know, a job.”
“One job’s one too many already.”
“Just be ready by nine, pretty boy. And bring your payment with you. Watch for us. Don’t make us come in after you.”
As soon as they closed the door behind themselves Peter put the bolt and chain on. Exhausted, he fell across the bed without pulling up the faded spread.
##
William wandered around his house, too restless to sleep. What had he seen during supper tonight? He didn’t believe in ghosts, yet the plate and glass had seemed to move on their own. No one had been close enough to cause the spills.
He needed to know more. Later. He certainly couldn’t prove anything tonight. In his study he grabbed one of Sarah’s, oops, Sarita’s journals and headed to his bedroom. Should put him to sleep quickly.
With Sarah on his mind he got ready for bed. The sheets were cool against his skin. No cut-offs tonight. Maybe he’d have company again.
Opening the first journal he read
To Sarita McKeown 16th April, 1860.
With love on her 13th birthday
From Walter Overby.
Be happy, Princess.
William closed his eyes, imagining the pretty young girl opening the birthday gift. Her eyes glowed. Her smile looked like it should hurt it was so wide. She clasped the book to her girlish chest.
“I’ll write in it every day! Walter, it’s the best present I’ve ever had.”
She was so adorable in her almost grown-up pink dress, barefoot and mussed. The ruffle on the bottom hung loose in the front. Sarita had acted like a lady for nearly two hours while their families congratulated her on reaching her thirteenth year with no broken bones. Walter had been so proud of the way she had followed his advice and pleased her family instead of arguing with them, as she often did.
Like the hoyden she was, she had escaped to check on the three-month old puppies in the barn. He had found her romping with them, like a child.
She launched herself from her seat in the hay and threw her arms around his waist. He picked stalks from her fiery curls, pushing one back from her face. He placed a kiss on her flushed cheek and hugged her to him. She was all energy and fun. Even on a bad day she made him feel better.
“Oh, Walter, I love you!” Her words came in a breathless rush. He felt them deep in his soul.
“I love you, too, my Princess.” He’d meant every word.
One day his Sarita would be a beauty and he’d thrash any man who took advantage of his princess.
##
William awoke to a warm body against his. Moist lips kissed the small of his back. His pulse raced. Small teeth nipped at the right side of his buttock. Dainty bites at his waist stopped his breath in his chest. He was so ready for Sarah he turned onto his back and pulled her atop him. Her full breasts pressed against his chest until she raised up to look into his face. Her lower body rubbed against the aroused part of him. He groaned low in his throat.
“Do you know what I plan to do to you?” She leaned over him, brushing her breast against his chest.
He managed to form words, barely. “No, why don’t you tell me, Princess? Or better yet, show me.”
Sarah leaned over him to whisper in his ear. Her breath against his face heated him. The erotic words she said sent blood rushing from his brain. When she kissed his neck he froze, waiting. She bit his shoulder. He swallowed hard. His nipples puckered, waiting for her to lick them as she had promised. Then her tongue worked her magic.
He grasped the sheets to keep from taking control. She straddled him as she had many times before. That thought flew from his mind when she grasped his rigid penis and caressed its length. More of this might kill him. He’d die happy. When her tongue took the moist drop from the tip, he raised to grab her.
“Not this time, Princess.” He flipped her onto her back and moved between her thighs. “I’m coming in.”
She tightened around him, plunging him over the edge with the strongest orgasm he’d ever felt. In her arms he found heaven.
“Oh, God, William.”
Some part of him knew she was with him all the way.
Clutching her to his chest he drifted into peaceful sleep. She belonged in his arms, in his bed, in his life.
In his dreams William saw a hoyden in long skirts running across fields, then riding bareback with her long hair flowing behind her. Her laugh burrowed into his heart. She was Sarah, but not Sarah. Her clothes certainly weren’t like anything he’d ever seen Sarah wear.
He awoke to the alarm, protesting. According to the clock, he’d slept through at least three minutes of the noise. He had slept more deeply than usual. Sarah had worn him out. She hadn’t turned the alarm off? He reached for her warm flesh, finding only cool sheets and an empty pillow. Damn, she’d left without saying goodbye again. After he pushed the snooze button, he clutched her pillow and breathed in her scent.
Under her pillow he found the journal he’d been reading when he dozed off. The binding had been well tended by the thirteen-year old girl. Once again her image seemed so real, like he was watching through a window. He could picture her gold streaked hair hiding her face as she wrote entries. This time the light from the window turned her hair onto a fiery halo. She sat on the window seat with her book on her knees. Bare feet peeked from under her full skirts.
Something was wrong. Her shoulders shook as she dropped the book and her pen. Her arms made a crad
le for her face when she leaned them on her up-drawn knees. Glancing at the book he saw water drops on the open pages.
The snooze alarm brought William from the dream. And the vision was only a dream. Whew!
After he showered he rescued the book from his bed and took it to the kitchen. At the table he drank his coffee and thumbed through the pages. Sarita had been thorough. No wonder Sarah thought she knew so much about the woman. William choked on a swallow of coffee.
Ink smears on a right page entry caught his attention.
He read. “Daddy said my puppies are sick. He says there is nothing to be done for them. I can not get them to eat or drink.”
William didn’t want to turn the page. He knew there would be more tearstains. The dogs had died. How could he know? Logic? It wasn’t like there were vets with medicine to cure distemper back then. How had he known the dogs had distemper?
His hand shook when he turned the page. Sarita wrote that the dogs had died. William knew, deep in his heart, her father had shot them to put them out of their pain.
Slamming the journal, he wanted to throw it across the room. William hadn’t been much of a journal writer but the man he had seen in his dreams had written about this girl. The memories were so real he felt like he had been that man, felt his affection for the girl. Were there more journals? Maybe there were plantation records he had seen somewhere in his extensive reading.
There had to be an explanation for his dream last night, for the things he seemed to know, for no reason. This town was into history and the University had preserved unofficial records gained from bequests. Where could he find plantation records? The Historical Society, maybe? He wasn’t into museums or Civil War research.
He wished Sarah had never seen the damned trunk or opened it. He really wished she hadn’t started reading these journals.
##
Sarah stretched and yawned. Bed hopping could tire a woman out. Her phone rang only once. She drifted back to sleep. Visions of a handsome man raced through her dreams. Walter rode like he’d been born knowing how. She rode beside him as they crossed burned fields of beans and corn stalks and a burned barn. When they stopped, Walter had dismounted so quickly he nearly lost his balance. Sarita wished he’d be more careful with his stiff leg. His wound had left him with a limp. He stooped to snap a blackened stalk.
This field had been planted by freed slaves and poor people who had stayed to help rebuild the community. Without their labor more people would have gone hungry. They would have gone hungry. And now they’d start over. Even now, two years after the war had ended, gangs of men covered their faces and burned out families friendly to blacks and or those transplanted from the North, like Mattie’s Yankee husband.
“When I find out who did this, there will be hell to pay.” Walter’s anger hung over them like a physical thing. “Damn it, these animals are worse than any of the Northern soldiers they hate so much.”
“My darling, they do not think. They just hate. They hurt, so they hurt others.” Sarita touched her husband’s tensed arm.
“I know, I know, but this violence has to stop!”
Sarah heard knocking from far away, then her mother’s voice. “Your alarm’s going off again, honey. Did you plan to get up this morning?”
“Yeah, Ma!” Sarah called. “I hear it!” Sarah reached to hit the snooze and turned over to hug her cool pillow. It didn’t smell like her William. She grinned so hard her face hurt. Her William! How wonderful was that?
Sleep fled and she wanted to hug him. She wanted to rub against him and make him crazy. Riding! She wanted to ride Baby and race William. Throwing her covers aside, she stumbled when she came face to face with Eloise.
Visions of spook mischief danced in Sarah’s head. Eloise looked so full of herself. “I can’t believe you behaved so badly last night! Do you want my parents to realize what you’re doing? What if Peter had figured out who dumped food on him?” That was dumb. No one knew about the ghosts except her.
Eloise bounced on the bed as Sarah struggled to suppress a smile. “Come on, admit it. You wanted to do something like that yourself. The guy was askin’ for it, acting so smug and possessive. Even Mattie wanted to push his head into his plate.”
Mattie materialized so close she nearly sat on Eloise and Sarah. “Are you speaking for me now? I told you not to behave like a naughty child last night.”
“You laughed when I messed up the dandified jerk.”
Sarah sniggered. “He did look sorta shocked when the plated ended up on his lap.”
“Sorta?” Eloise snorted. “Heck, he looked fit-to-be- tied. Practically threw a hissy fit.”
“But, Eloise,” Mattie gnawed her bottom lip. “it was so r-r-r-“ she grinned. “so rude –“ she collapsed onto the bed beside her companions.
Giggles erupted from Sarah at the sight of her recently rediscovered friends. Eloise yanked her down onto the bed as they laughed like teenagers.
As the giggles subsided, Eloise asked. “So, when are you and William gettin’ hitched?”
Mattie stopped laughing and adopted an almost serious expression. “Eloise! Shame on you!”
“Shame on me?” she protested, in mock shock. “I’m not the person who crept home near dawn the last two mornin’s.”
Sarah heard her mother’s voice from the other side of her door. “Honey, are you talking to yourself?”
“Just practicing a speech,” Sarah called. “I’m up, mom.”
Mattie’s inner child must’ve found itself. She twisted her mouth in a childish grin, then poked at Sarah’s ticklish ribs.
What would Mama see if she opened the door now? Never mind. “Gonna take a quick shower, mom.” She shook her finger at her companions and headed for the shower. So far she hadn’t felt their presence there.
##
An hour later Sarah sat in William’s Mustang. Her ghosts hadn’t approved of her riding outfit of a tee shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Maybe she’d shop for boots tomorrow.
There was nothing professor-like about William’s worn, tight jeans. He’d seemed quiet when she’d called to ask him to take her riding. She’d expected him to mention last night. He hadn’t said a word about dinner or her time in his bed. What’s on his mind?
“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Professor.”
“Am I?”
“UmmmHmmm. Got something on your mind? Or maybe someone?” Sarah watched William’s eyes focused on the road.
“You could say that?”
“Which, something or someone?”
“Both.”
“So,” Sarah sighed. “wanna talk about anything?”
William grinned, still watching the road. “That’s my line.”
“Where do you think I learned it? So, do you?” She paused. “have anything you want to talk about, I mean?”
“Maybe after our ride.”
“Okay.” Sarah’s excitement rose as they neared Houster’s Horse Farm where her horse waited. She just knew her Baby had missed her.
##
William felt his anticipation build. He could almost envision Sarah on the horse he’d chosen for her, even as his mind wandered.
As a psychologist he knew there could be explanations for most of his dreams and things that seemed so familiar.
The ghosts’ antics were a different story, if Sarah’s explanations about the spilled food and moving dishes could be accepted.
Leave it to Sarah to conjure mischievous ghosts. What if there really were ghosts? He shook his head. Of course there were no ghosts. For now he just wanted to take his girl for a ride and forget about any supernatural foolishness.
Sarah was out of the car almost before it stopped. She raced to beat William to the corral where Baby awaited. “See, she knows me. Hey, Baby.”
The lovely horse met Sarah at the fence, nodding her sleek head. She blinked at Sarah, then nuzzled her shoulder. Nearby a gelding stood quietly, as if waiting for something or someone.
“Your n
ew horse does look pleased to see you, Princess.” He wrapped his strong arms around Sarah’s waist and rubbed against her buttocks. He nipped her shoulder then looked the horse in the eyes. “You’re looking fine this morning, Baby.”
Sarah rewarded him with a kiss on his jaw. How could a man not love this woman? She loved so much, cared so much.
Baby acted almost human, waiting for Sarah to come inside the fence and join her.
William suppressed a shiver when he heard hoof beats. He looked past Baby to see a large black gelding move slowly toward him. Baby whinnied and the black answered, bobbing its head.
The black horse seemed to be acting on knowledge or instructions as it approached William. Ridiculous. The animal was probably just naturally curious.
Sarah laughed when her horse pulled away to tease her. Baby moved away a few steps, then returned to the fence. When Sarah laughed again, Baby moved away again, then returned - this time to nip at William’s shoulder.
“Guess we both have our horses for today.” Sarah climbed to the top fence rail and slid down beside her Baby, walking beside her toward the barn for her saddle and bridle and stuff.
James and Bob Houster watched from the open doors.
William had never had a horse choose him. Had Baby chosen for him? Such whimsy, and he didn’t believe in whimsy.
The picnic lunch he’d ordered had been whimsical, too. He and Sarah rode through a field of wildflowers, but he had memories of a burned field. Why? He turned his attention to Sarah. Her laughter carried in wind.
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