Waiting For You (14 page)

His chest shook with a deep chuckle. “You can say that again.”

Nick nuzzled her ear with his lips, his breath against her skin. She loved the closeness they shared. Nothing had ever been so perfect.

* * * *

The next day Nick met with several clients as Abby sat next to him. He didn’t have to look to know she was there—he could feel her warmth and smell the sweet scent of berries.

Once the last client left and the door closed, Nick pulled Abby onto his lap and kissed her. She fit against him so perfectly, and he knew they were meant to be together. Yet his mind argued with his heart. After all, she was dead to everybody else but him.

After the kiss, Nick rested his forehead against hers. “I want this workday to be over.”

“Me, too.”

“I want to cancel all my appointments and do nothing but hold and kiss you.”

She smiled. “That would be so nice.”

As he captured her mouth again, his cell phone rang. He pulled away from Abby with a groan then grabbed the phone off his desk. The caller ID read
Ruby Marshal
.

His chest clenched. His mother usually only contacted him if she’d been injured, or if she wanted to deliver some news about his future. Of course, now he wanted to hear what she had to say, since he knew she’d been truthful about his soul mate.

He kissed Abby again quickly. “Honey, I have to take this call.”

“All right.”

She jumped off his lap and he stood, bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Nick. Am I calling at a bad time?”

“No, Mother.”

Abby’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an “O.”

“Good, because last night I had the urge to call you,” his mother continued. “I don’t know why, but the more I put it off, the greater the feeling became. I’m aware you think I’m crazy, but I need to see you today, Son.”

“Sure. What time?”

His mother sucked in her breath on the other end of the phone. She sounded surprised. He hadn’t been close to her since his father took him away. Now Nick believed she could really see into the future.

“Can you come over after you get off work?” his mother asked.

“That’s good for me. I’ll see you around seven.”

“Thank you.” Her voice cracked before she hung up.

He clicked off the call and walked to the window as he slipped the cell back into his pocket. He didn’t part the shades to look outside, just stared.

Behind him, soft hands trailed up his back. “Are you all right?”

“I think so. I don’t hear from my mother that much, and usually when I do, she has something to say about how I’m living my life.” He chuckled. “Then again, isn’t that what mothers are supposed to do?”

“My mother died when I was young, so I don’t have firsthand knowledge of that.”

Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying Abby’s touch. “I grew up thinking she was crazy. My father influenced my opinion a great deal by constantly saying terrible things about her—always telling me that she was a horrible parent. I rarely visited her, and when I did, she embarrassed me.” He shook his head. “Now I actually believe she was only trying to help.”

Abby’s arms wound around Nick, linking together on his stomach as she rested her head on his back. “I’m sorry.”

He patted her hands. “Don’t be sorry. I feel this way about her now because of you.” He turned and wrapped her in is embrace, holding her against his chest. “You’ve opened my eyes to a lot of things, Abby.”

She smiled. “That means I have done something good in my life.”

“Yes, you have.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to see my mother tonight after work. I hope you don’t mind if I do it alone.”

“I understand. Will you come back afterward?”

“Nothing can keep me away, honey. You’re going to be by my side as long as I can keep you there.”

“Oh, Nick.” Abby sighed and pressed her face against his chest. “How long do you think that will be? I’m so scared now. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t care who killed me, not really, especially if knowing the truth means it will take me away from you.”

He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s not think about that right now.”

The truth was
,
Nick didn’t want to think about finding her killer either, not if it would mean she would have to cross over. What would happen if he dropped the case? Would Abby remain in her ghostly—but almost real—state, or would they be punished for trying to alter her existence?

Chapter 12

Nick’s palms moistened and his heart knocked a crazy rhythm as he stood at his mother’s door. He’d never enjoyed their visits, but now he realized a lot of that had to do with his father’s anger and embarrassment. Nick wanted to see her this time, and he looked forward to what she had to tell him. Would it have anything to do with Abby? He still wondered how he could have a future with a ghost who’d been dead since 1912, but he hadn’t given up hoping something magical would happen to make his dreams come true.

After taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. When the door opened, light from inside the house spilled onto the porch. His mother wore a yellow and green dress that covered her arms to her elbows, and most of her legs. White sandals laced across her stocking feet. The years had aged her, drawing lines around her mouth and eyes. Sadness still coated her eyes, the same way they had the last time he saw her. Guilt ate at his gut knowing he’d caused much of her heartache.

“Hello, Mom.”

Her lips quivered as she returned his smile. “Please come in, Nick.”

Knick-knacks decorated her front room, lining shelf upon shelf. Larger items sat on the floor next to a small television, and the worn sofas were covered with colorful
afghans
. Several rugs were scattered across the hardwood floor.

“Would you like to sit?” she asked.

He nodded and sat on the sofa he remembered hating as a boy. There was never anything for him to do when he visited his mother, just sit and read. She had never believed that the television was a good tool for helping to raise a child. Now he wished he had talked to her and gotten to know her better.

She paced the floor, squeezing one hand with the other. “It’s good to see you. You’ve changed a little since I saw you in Hollywood.”

“Yes, I think a lot about me has changed.” He arched an eyebrow. “I realize now that I should have taken your advice about Leslie Blake. If I had, maybe my life wouldn’t have been so hard.”

“You wouldn’t have learned so much if you’d listened,” his mother said matter-of-factly as she sat next to him. “But I see something else in your eyes. You’ve suffered a lot, but I detect a bit of happiness. Am I correct?”

He grinned. “Yes, I’m happy now. I’m satisfied with the way I’m living.” He grasped her hand and her eyes widened. “I’ve also found my soul mate, just as you told me I would.”

Her breath hitched. “You have?”

“Yes, Mom.
This woman traveled a long way to find me, just like you said.”

“What’s her name?”

“Abigail Carlisle.”

“Tell me about her. What does she do? Where does she come from?”

Nick wanted to laugh. What did Abigail do besides hang around in a ghostly state and make him happy beyond measure? He definitely couldn’t tell her she came from 1912. “Well, her father owns a newspaper, so she is an heiress in her own right.”

“I’d love to meet her one day.”

“I’d love for you to see her, too.”

“If you care deeply for her, then I’m sure I’ll love her.”

“So, Mom,” he said before taking a deep breath, “what do you need to tell me? Your phone call sounded urgent.”

She stood and paced the floor again. “I know you’ve always thought me insane, but I’m not. I have a gift and I want to use it in helping people.” She stopped by a shelf and straightened the knick-knacks that were already straightened from what he could see. “Lately, you have been on my mind, more now than usual.” She turned and faced him. “I cannot see into your future very far, which worries me a bit, but I can sense how happy you are, so it eases my fear slightly.”

Nick nodded, his throat growing tight with emotion. “I am happy, Mom.”

His mother sat on the couch beside him again, took his hands, and stared deeply into his eyes. In the past when she’d done this, it had made him uncomfortable. Now, more than anything, he wanted her to look into his soul. Would she be able to read his mind, feel what was in his heart? He wanted to talk about Abby, but he didn’t dare.

She nodded and smiled. “I feel this woman is indeed your soul mate.”

“I know she is.”

Tears formed in her eyes, and then she hugged him. Nick put his arms around her, realizing he couldn’t remember the last time they’d embraced. Suddenly, he missed all of those years he’d been without her.

He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. “Mom, I want—” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Please forgive me for all the mean things I’ve said to you in the past. For the first time in my life, I see clearly. I feel terrible for the way I’ve behaved. I promise never to hurt you again.”

Tears streamed down her face. “There is nothing to forgive, my dear. Your father had a lot of influence on you. In a way that’s good, because it made you successful.”

Nick shook his head. “But it also kept me away from a loving mother.”

She cupped his face in her hands and smiled. “Thank you, Nick. I’ve always loved you, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

She kissed him then hugged him again. “Before you leave, I must tell you what little I’ve seen of your future.”

Nick held his breath. Earlier, she’d mentioned everything was good. What was she holding back? “What did you see?”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I haven’t been able to make sense of anything.” She looked at him and grasped his hands. “Nothing is as it seems.”

“What does that mean?”

His mother shrugged. “Like I said, I can’t figure it out. All I know is that it’s not right. You have to make it right. Don’t set your mind on thinking things are going a certain way, because they’re not. Nothing is as it seems.”

Confusion filled Nick’s mind as he kissed his mother goodbye and left. Her “sights” had always been a bit disoriented, yet she’d always been correct somehow. So what did her vision mean this time?

* * * *

Abigail paced the floor, praying Nick and his mother could talk things out. He seemed to long for a good relationship with her, and it tore at Abigail’s heart to think he was raised without her.

She didn’t remember much about her mother, but her father kept miniatures and paintings of her around the house. He’d told Abigail that her mother often took her on picnics while he was at the office, and she wished she could remember those times.

Although she loved her father dearly, she spent much more time with the servants than with him. They knew her heartaches. They knew about her frustration when her father or Harry had chased away another beau. And they especially knew what a lost and lonely girl she had been all of her life.

Thinking about the past upset her, so she walked behind Nick’s desk and sat, looking for something to keep her mind occupied until he returned. The computer on his desk was still on. Since she’d been watching him for a while, she knew the miracles this contraption could do.

Abigail rested her hand on the object that fit in the curve of her palm. Why in the world they called this a mouse, she’d never understand. She moved the arrow around until she found the picture of a blue “e.” Nick had called this the Internet, whatever that meant.

She clicked on a square that said “search” and rested her fingers on the keyboard, which looked much like the keys of a typewriter. Now, who should she look up? Nick had already searched for her uncle and aunt, and Cassandra Brown…
er
, Westland. The only other person he didn’t check out thoroughly was her cousin Anthony.

Careful to hit the right keys, she typed “Anthony Carlisle.” A white page with many blue headings popped up, and her hopes dropped.
What did I do wrong?
Abigail scratched her ear and studied the screen, then tried again. This time, she typed in her cousin’s name and then “Carlisle fortune.” Immediately a different screen popped up with fewer choices than before. She clicked on each one, but none of the articles referred to her cousin. Clearly, there were many men with the same name.

Abigail tried one more time, typing in the year 1917. Finally, she found something about her cousin. It was her uncle and aunt’s obituaries, with Anthony named as their only survivor. That wasn’t what Abigail was looking for. She tried again and again, and just as she was ready to give up, she found a photograph of a couple, announcing an engagement. She remembered Nick clicking on the picture to enlarge it, so she did this a few times until she recognized the faces.

She gasped and covered her mouth. Standing next to Anthony was none other than Cassandra Brown. The elderly woman had denied personally knowing her father, Edward Carlisle, but she’d been engaged to his nephew, Anthony. How could she not know Edward at all? Abigail suspected that when they had visited her in the nursing home, Cassandra had rattled off nonsense.

In her mind, Abigail pieced together what they knew about Cassandra. She’d married a man with the last name Westland—probably Harry. Obviously, the woman never married Anthony, although they were engaged. Abigail also knew that Cassandra was given the building as an engagement gift. What were the odds it was Anthony who gave it to her?

Abigail rubbed her forehead and looked back through the other links, but didn’t find anything. She closed her eyes and sighed. Nothing made sense.

Footsteps sounded on the floor in the hallway, and she turned toward the door, recognizing the rhythm of Nick’s walk. When he opened the door, her heart soared. She flew from the chair and ran into his arms. Before the door closed behind him, she had kissed him hard on the lips.

He laughed. “Did you miss me that much?”

“More.” She sighed and laid her head on his chest.

He stroked her hair then led her toward his desk. “What did you do while I was away?”

“I researched my cousin. I found some very interesting information.” She pointed to the computer.

Nick’s eyes went wide.
“
You
researched something on the computer?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? But I found out my cousin was engaged.” She waited until Nick rounded the desk.
“To Cassandra Brown.”

Nick’s head jerked up and he stared at Abigail.

She nodded. “It shocked me too.”

“Maybe he was the one who purchased the building for Cassandra and not Harry,” Nick said. “By then, his parents would have died, and he would’ve had the money.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Very interesting.”
He sat on his chair. “And I wonder why she didn’t marry him.”

“The article didn’t say.” Abby walked around the desk and sat on his lap. His hands circled her waist and he pulled her closer. “But I’m wondering if Cassandra used my cousin for his money. Anthony wasn’t a very handsome man, and God certainly didn’t bless him with a brain.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Cassandra to do that very thing,” Nick said.

He nuzzled her neck and she sighed. “I think you were missing me, too.”

“You know I was.”

She pulled back and looked into his dark green eyes. “I love you, Nick.”

“I know.” He smiled. “And it’s the best feeling in the world.”

Just as he brought his mouth down to hers, clicking of heels echoed through the corridor. Abigail knew that sound—Miss Swimsuit model was back. With a groan, Abigail pulled away.

Nick sighed. “She really knows when to ruin the moment, doesn’t she?”

“More often than I like.”
Abigail moved to the window and sat on the small seat.

He slid his chair closer to his desk just as Vanessa called, “Nicky? Are you busy?”

“Come in, Vanessa.” He leaned closer to his computer, pretending to read something on his screen.

She strolled in wearing a tight pair of pants and a stretchy top that barely covered her. Abigail rolled her eyes. Leave it to Vanessa to always look like she walked out of the pages of a magazine. For once, couldn’t the woman wear wrinkled clothes and have no makeup on?

Nick glanced up at the unexpected visitor, then back down at his computer. “Hello, Vanessa. What’s up? You’ve caught me in between clients.”

“I wanted to come tell you that my great-grandmother has been asking about you.”

“She has?” he exclaimed.

“Yes. She says it’s important that she talks to you.”

“Did she say when?”

“No.”

“Well, tonight is out of the question. I’m sure it’s way past visiting hours anyway. How about tomorrow? I’ll cancel some of my appointments if I have to.”

Vanessa shrugged and sat on the brown leather chair across from him. “I’m sure tomorrow will be okay. I’ll ask her.”

“I wonder what she wants to tell me.”

Vanessa arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Not only that, but she told me she wanted to meet you alone.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe she actually told me not to be there.”

Abigail giggled. Perhaps Cassandra’s mind was still sharp after all.

“Yes, that does seem strange. I wonder why,” Nick said. “Guess I’ll know tomorrow.”

Vanessa leaned forward on the desk. “I’d like to know what’s so important for her to see you and not me. Will you come see me afterwards and let me know?”