Mattie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Did he help?”
Eloise looked from Mattie to Sarah. “What are you talking about? Miller? How could you have seen Miller Jackson?”
Mattie’s voice rose. “Did the bastard help?”
“Yes, he finally panicked when he saw I was in trouble. I had begun to bleed by then and I’m sure he saw the blood.” She shivered. “There was so much blood.”
“He brought help?” Mattie asked again. Moving toward Sarah propped on pillows.
“I heard horses.” She twisted the sheet. “I don’t know what happened. I remember pain I thought would tear me apart, but Daddy woke me. I must have screamed out loud.”
“Oh, you did,” Eloise said. “Your screams would’ve awakened the dead. Oops.”
“Eloise!” Mattie’s voice was stern.
“Well, it got us moving didn’t it?”
Mattie shook her head. “I never know what our Eloise is going to say.”
“It’s okay,” Sarah said. “After all, you two are dead, aren’t you?”
Eloise rose from the bed. “But I didn’t have to say that, sorry. So, are you gettin’ up or not?”
“I guess so. I need to get my journals back from William and return some of the library books.”
“Actually,” Mattie said, “some of them were quite interesting.”
“They were?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah, Mattie and I were reading last night. The things that have been happening make a crazy kind of sense.”
Sarah’s mother called as she tapped on the bedroom door. “Sarah? Are you on the phone? I didn’t hear it ring.”
“Come on in, Mama.”
“How about a nice breakfast?” She looked around the room. Of course she didn’t see Eloise or Mattie. “I made waffles for your daddy this morning and there’s plenty of batter left.”
“Thanks, Mama. I’ll be right down.”
Sarah’s mama walked over to Sarah and leaned over the bed to hug her. “We’ll talk about last night.”
“Oh, but ..”
“We’ll talk.” She left Sarah staring after her.
Eloise rose and moved toward the door. “You need to tell her. She ought to know what’s bothering you.”
“Yes, my dear, she needs to know. So does your dad. I have a feeling things may become worse.”
Sarah tossed her covers aside and rose when her company faded from the room. Damn, would she ever become accustomed to having ghosts around?
Sarah grabbed faded jeans and a tee shirt, then headed down to the kitchen. “Mama, I ..”
“Good morning, Princess.” William’s voice sent warmth through her, starting in her heart, settling lower. He rose from his seat at the table, grabbing the napkin that covered his lap.
“Morning to you, too. No food in your kitchen, Professor?”
“Sarah!” Her mother turned from the stove to frown at her.
William’s grin looked as tired as his eyes. His professor glasses showed dark circles under his eyes. He wasn’t sleeping well either.
She waved at him to sit back down, even as he moved behind her usual chair to pull it out. If they’d been alone she would have wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him senseless. The time had come to tell her parents she loved this man, so she could stop pretending they were just friends.
When she sat he lingered behind her long enough to caress her shoulders and kiss her neck. Maybe she’d grab his hand and drag him across their yards and shove him inside his house. She could skip breakfast.
“Sit down, William.” Sarah’s mom called as she bustled to the table. “Eat before everything gets cold.” She placed a platter of waffles in the middle, then sat.
“Eat up you, two. I’ve already had mine with dad.”
William reached behind his chair and stretched toward the stove to remove the coffeepot. “Let me warm yours?” He motioned to her mother’s cup then filled it. “Princess, some for you?”
“Please.”
His hands looked so strong holding the large iron pot. They looked so gentle when he poured just enough cream into her cup before handing the creamer to her mother.
“Sugar?”
“Huh, oh, yes.”
He handed her the sugar bowl. He had eaten enough meals to know how each member of her family took coffee and tea and how much salt and pepper each used.
Sarah forked several waffles. William handed her the butter dish. He poured a light coat of syrup on her waffles, the way she liked, but drenched his own, as she had known he would. She watched William eat like he was starved.
Actually, she was hungrier than she had expected to be. Or maybe Mama had added a secret ingredient to her batter. She practically licked her plate clean.
“If you’ve finished, I’m ready to hear about last night.”
“What do you mean, Mama?”
“Child, I never heard you wake up screaming like you did last night. Since you brought those journals down from the attic you’ve been stirring around at all hours of the night and now you’re bringing home books on reincarnation.”
William gasped, like someone had shot him.
“What happened last night?” William interrupted. “Why were you screaming?”
She continued. “And you’ve started talking to yourself, like when you were younger. What’s going on? Sarah?” Her mother’s expression said she would have an answer now.
“What about last night?” William asked again.
She’d try the easy answer. “I had a nightmare last night. First I couldn‘t sleep, then I had an awful dream.“
“About what?” That question came in stereo, from William and Mama.
A version of the truth might work. “I dreamed I was in a wagon with my husband and we had an accident.”
“And that’s why you screamed?” Mama asked.
“And?” William prompted. He seemed to hang on her every word. “Tell me.”
“And my husband was injured and I couldn’t help him ‘cause I was,” Her voice cracked. “I was losing my baby.”
William’s face blanched. His voice was barely above a whisper. “You were what? Oh my God.”
William’s head swam. Something crushed his heart. Fear surrounded him like a blanket. Sarah couldn’t possibly know what he read in the odd journal last night. Two of the ten journals she had brought him had belonged to Walter.
He hadn’t slept after reading that Sarita and Walter had been injured in a wagon accident. He’d known what the journal would say, but he’d kept reading. He’d cried as he read the pages telling of his lost child and his wife’s death. Sarah, no Sarita, had died and his heart had shattered. Not his heart, but that of the man named Walter.
He and Sarah were sharing dreams. He and Sarah would sit down and talk, after he had sorted out what was happening. Tomorrow he would meet his mentor and discuss the journals, and Sarah’s ghosts, and her Sarita knowledge, and his own reactions to it all. What if his mentor thought they were both unbalanced? What if he thought the ghosts and – the other thing- he couldn’t even think the word - were a reality?
No, he would need to find a logical solution.
“Sarah, your mother said you’re reading books on,” He cleared his throat. “reincarnation?” There, he’d said it. “Why?”
“Thought it would be interesting.”
He looked from Sarah to her mother, then back to Sarah.
“We need to talk.”
Chapter Twelve
Breakfast at Sarah’s house usually offered comfort instead of stomach-churning excitement. Sarah had just dropped bomb, thought not the one he had expected.
William read the plea in Sarah’s expression. “We can talk at your house, later.”
Her mother stood, both hands gripping the table. She leaned toward her daughter. “We will discuss it, here, now.”
“Yes, Princess, tell your mother what’s on your mind.” Her blank expression worried him. Could she tell her moth
er she’d seen ghosts and believed she had a previous life?
“Mama, William and I are in love.”
William choked. He hadn’t expected her to say that.
Mrs. O. looked at him as if she expected him to say something. He coughed, took a deep breath, then plunged.
“I’m in love with your daughter.” Her raised brow said she expected more. “We just realized it, so we haven’t had time to speak with you and Doc.”
She looked at Sarah, who seemed as stunned as he was. Sarah shredded a napkin. “And that makes you scream?”
William stood and walked behind Sarah’s chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging, caressing. “I don’t know why she’s having nightmares, but I do know I love Sarah.”
The dear lady still looked as confused as he felt. Maybe the talk about bad dreams should wait ‘til Mr. Overby could sit down with them all.
Sarah’s cold hand on his offered support, as it asked for his. She rubbed her cheek against his arm. God, he really loved his Princess.
“Mama, there is a lot happening now.” Sarah’s voice sounded strained.
“You mean your trips next door late at night?”
Yes, ma’am,” William’s voice scratched.
“And Sarah’s sneaking in early in the morning?”
Sarah looked over her shoulder and smiled. She actually smiled. Oh, what the hell. William grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Her daddy and I wondered when you’d tell us.”
Sarah giggled. “We just realized it ourselves.”
“Now that we’ve established that, what about the other?”
The phone rang. Sarah rocketed from her chair. “I’ll get it.” They’d been saved by the bell, literally.
Sarah’s parents should know about her issues. As harmless as they seemed, they pointed at bigger concerns.
William checked his watch. He needed to head out for his appointment. “Thanks for breakfast, ma’am.” He hugged Mz. O. “I’ll call Sarah later this morning.” He glanced toward the door where Sarah had made her escape. He could hear her voice, so she must still be on the phone.
He looked up at the clock on the stove, kissed Mrs. O. on the cheek, then left. He’d call Sarah later.
##
Sarah had hoped the caller would be Peter so they could talk. Instead she and her best friend had chatted and planned to meet for lunch. Melinda’s latest business trip had taken her out of town for three weeks.
Now would be a good time to try to reach Peter. She held until the fifteenth ring. Where had Peter gone? Maybe he had an out-of-town appointment. She couldn’t cancel their date if she couldn’t find him. No answering machine or voice mail. Odd.
She hung up and sneaked back to her room. Had she really blurted out that she and William were in love? So that poorly kept secret was out. Grabbing slacks and a blouse she changed clothes, then grabbed her purse and keys and escaped.
Once she was in her car she called her mother and promised she’d talk about everything at supper. At the first red light she swiped on red lip gloss. Would she tell her friend about the journals, or the ghosts, or William? Sarah whipped into a spot in the restaurant parking lot. She’d tell her about William, all right. She ran a brush through her hair, then floated from her car on a cloud of excitement and love.
##
Two hours later Sarah hugged her best friend goodbye and headed home. As excited as she’d been about telling her best friend that she was in love, she’d been upstaged. Melinda had flashed a ring with a diamond large enough to blind her. The humongous diamond was flanked by two smaller rubies.
Melinda, bless her heart, had managed to drop from her own cloud nine long enough to pump Sarah about how she and the professor had finally realized they loved each other. How had everyone else known before she and William figured it out? When her mobile phone rang during lunch she had promised to call her beloved professor back. Melinda’s moon-eyed looks and grins had made talking to him impossible.
When her phone rang again she pulled into the bank parking lot. “Hey, professor.”
His sexy laugh made her smile grow. “Hey, yourself, Princess. How was lunch?”
“It was fun. Melinda sparkled as much as her diamond. She said to mark our calendar for December 21. I get to be Maid of Honor.”
The silence lasted so long she wondered if he had heard what she’d said. “Why not Matron of Honor?”
Now she didn’t know what to say. Should she explain? Surely he knew the difference. Surely he hadn’t meant to suggest she would be married by December.
“Sarah?”
“I’d have to be married to be the matron.”
“I know. Well, why not? Be married I mean.”
“Ask me that question when you get home.”
“I’ll just do that. Good luck with your parents tonight. Or you could wait ‘til I get back and we can face them together.”
“I love you for offering, but I think I need to do this by myself. They’re gonna love the ghosts.
“I’d better hang up, darlin’. I’m in the middle of Atlanta and I don’t do well in big city traffic. I gotta merge onto I-75 and there’s some kind of accident or something.”
“Have fun in the mountains.”
“I will, but I’ll miss you. Bye now.”
##
William hit the steering wheel with the heel of his right hand. He couldn’t believe he’d made such a muddle of what should have been a romantic moment. Had he really put himself on the line? What the hell did he know about marriage? He didn’t understand the direction his life and Sarah’s had taken lately, like who he really was or who they had been before, or if his princess could be seeing ghosts.
A horn blared as a truck passed him. The driver gave him the finger. He needed to pay attention to the road or he might not make it to the mountains.
##
Food fragrances had lost their appeal. Sarah pushed her supper around her plate. Her appetite had shrunk the minute her dad asked why William hadn’t come to dinner.
“You said he was going to consult with his mentor?”
“Yeah, Daddy, he seems confused about some issues.”
“Your issues or his?”
“My issues?” she asked.
“Child, if something is bothering you, William would know, and he’d feel he had to solve your problems, like he always has. Does he know what’s disturbed you lately?”
“Kind of. Dad, do you believe in reincarnation?” The words popped out.
“I don’t know, honey. I noticed your stack of books in the music room.” Her dad removed his glasses and cleaned them with a polishing tissue. ”Want to tell me about it?”
Sarah glanced around. Her mother stood at a counter, whipping cream for dessert. Mama always seemed to know when Sarah and her daddy needed a father-daughter talk. Her mother hadn’t mentioned the bomb she and William had dropped at breakfast. She and her mama would have a heart-to-heart about the being in love thing and about William’s reaction to Melinda’s wedding plans. Had he meant to propose? Had he regretted what he said?”
“Go ahead, you two.” Her mom waved them aside with her free hand. “I don’t mind. I’ll have this finished in a jiffy, if you need me.”
“Why don’t we go in the music room and sit while Mama works. You can play for us after we talk.”
They left the noise and distractions of the kitchen. She moved books so they could sit on the loveseat. Sarah took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Daddy, have you ever thought you knew something you had no reason to know? Like you remembered something you shouldn’t know?”
“You mean like deja-vu?”
“Not exactly. I found a set of journals in an old trunk in our attic. They belonged to Sarita Overby.”
“Oh, a distant relative, I think.” He removed his glasses and polished them with a handkerchief, studying her. “And you’ve been reading these journals.”
“How did you know?”
“Your mother and I talk about everything.”
Sarah instinctively touched the antique necklace. Her father’s image began to blur. Oh, no, not now. She tried to stop what she knew would happen as the room faded.
Sarita stood beside an open grave. The sun had no business shining in the cloudless sky or reflecting off the church steeple. Workers waited to finish covering the pine casket made with love by her father, her brothers, and her beloved husband. She had sewn the liner and allowed her aunts and cousins to add small embroidered goodbye tokens.
The wooden marker would be followed by the marble angel her Daddy had commissioned. Her hand rested warmly in her father’s. Her heart felt empty. Today he looked old for forty-nine. His strong broad shoulders slumped in grief.
The church had been filled to overflowing and the service had seemed to last forever. Only the strength of William’s big body at her side and his big hand gave her strength to hold onto her daddy’s clammy one. The heat and closeness of so many hot bodies and the odor of sweat mingled with the smell of death threatened to make Sarah lose what little she had eaten this morning. The tall windows had been opened to let in fresh air, but people fanned with hymnal covers and papers. Still there was not enough air.
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