Wanted: One Ghost (32 page)

“I talked to her about my job offer.” He figured it was mostly true and a safe enough topic.

“And she turned you down?” Beth stood up again and sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miles, she’s not been well lately. Christmas is in a few days. She lost someone very special to her. And now that she’s pregnant with his baby, she’s probably an emotional wreck.”

At first, James didn’t comprehend Beth’s full lament over April’s situation. The woman let slip April’s condition like a nanny sneaking medicine into a dish of pudding. Or it could be his brain, still slow from his accident. But when he finally understood, his heart raced with frantic joy.

“What did you say?”

“Which part?”

“She’s pregnant?”

“Um…yeah.”

He didn’t wait around for Beth to say anything more but ran out the door, sans coat, sans walking stick, hoping to catch April on her way home. They both had some things to explain.

***

April didn’t notice the influx of people in the coffee shop. She couldn’t believe she’d over-reacted like she had. Kenneth Miles must think her a fruitcake. He was trying to be nice, offering her a job, a simple dinner he’d promised her over a month ago, and she’d jumped down his throat about something as asinine as believing in fate. He didn’t understand her situation in the past few weeks, and how fate had screwed her royally. Fate had messed her up so badly her gift wasn’t even working.

Taking a sip of her decaf latte with skim milk, she pondered leaving earlier than tomorrow morning to go to Annapolis for Christmas dinner with her family.

“Your usual, sir?”

“Yes, Earl Grey, please.”

The sound of the rich English tenor and the distinct order of Earl Grey had April nearly choking on her froth. He sounded so much like James when they used to order their daily cup.

April’s breathing accelerated. She needed to get away. No matter how closely he resembled James in looks or speech, Kenneth Miles wasn’t James, her James. The sooner she got away from him the better. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t remind her of James, and she hated the man, knowing it would never be the same. She’d never experience the feelings she’d had for a few short weeks, ever again.

Afraid of confronting the man and not being able to control her emotions in public, she quietly gathered her things and tried to slip out unseen. She almost made it to the door when her name rang out through the coffee shop. Damn him! She would keep walking, quickly, pretending she hadn’t heard him.

But the pounding of feet behind her made her increase her step to nearly a run.

“April May Branford, you can’t run from me—it’s my baby, too!”

***

April stopped dead in her tracks. James couldn’t help but smile. He hadn’t intended to blurt it out like he had, but it saved his leg the agony of running down the street after her. He would have, too. He didn’t notice the odd looks he was getting from last minute Christmas shoppers trudging up the sidewalk with their bags of gifts. He didn’t care.

“What did you say?” April turned to face him, two store fronts down from where he stood, catching his breath.

“I’m not sure. What did I say?” he asked.

“You’re an ass, Kenneth.”

“So I’ve been told a time or two.” He approached her. Her eyes widened in fear. She was scared of him and he wondered if it was because she’d started to piece things together, or if it was Kenneth’s bravado. She was going to run. He needed to do something. “Do you believe in fate, April Branford?”

“Go to hell,” she seethed under her breath, her chest heaving as tears coursed down her cheeks.

“Do you believe in fate?” he asked again. “November 18th, 4:10 a.m. London time I was pronounced dead from severe internal injuries I’d sustained in an auto accident.” She was shaking, her eyes wide in disbelief as he knew she understood what he was going to say. “And then I woke up on an operating table. The last thing I remembered wasn’t being in London on my way to the airport, it was fighting off a ghost in a burning house.”

“No.” She shook her head as she tried to deny what he was implying. Not wanting to hear anymore.

He continued on. He needed her to believe. “When I gained conscious thought, I had various recollections of a life as Kenneth Miles, but it was surreal as if it really wasn’t my life. My solid memories were of you, your family, and a past I knew hundreds of years ago. My life as Kenneth was still there but only as hazy memories.

“When I saw the paperwork on Kings Mill, everything rushed back to me. I knew I had to return, not for finding my past or retaining the historical sanctity of the mill site, but to be with you. I felt it April. I more than felt it, I knew it! Everything finally made sense to me.” He pleaded for her to understand what he was feeling inside. “Fate has brought us together!”

“You’re mad!” She spit out as her eyes filled with more tears.

Yes. He was mad as a Hatter but he needed to prove to her he was right. He was James Addison inside the shell of Kenneth Miles. He searched his memories of their time together, frantic to make her see who he really was inside.

“Catherine’s ghost saved me during the public event,” James said quietly, his smile eager to see her belief, but she continued to shake her head. “You wore my colonial shirt and nothing else while we stayed at the inn. Your grandmother taught you how to dress a cucumber when you were sixteen, I danced a jig for you our first night together at the old elm tree to see if you could actually see me.” He ticked off the moments, each one as fresh in his mind as the day it happened.

She shook her head backing away. Her hand went to her trembling lips trying to deny everything. James searched for a sign, something to bring her around, to make her believe in fate, in him.

He found a sign, literally, the jewelry store sign down the street! His last hope to prove to her fate had somehow brought them together. He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her down the block and into the store, all the while taking a few beatings from her and a couple of odd stares. He even heard someone say to call 911. It would all be worth it if he could get April to believe.

The bell over-head tinkled as he opened the door.

“Hello. Can I help you?” The clerk who’d waited on him in November said, staring at the struggling woman with a curious glance.

“Do you remember me coming in and putting a down payment on a ring?” James asked. “I was playing the character James Addison.”

“Yes, it was…” The clerk tried to remember.

“Saturday, November 17
^th
a little after nine in the morning.”

The man snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up. “Yes. I had just opened for the day.”

James took out his money clip and placed several hundred dollar bills on the counter. “I wish to finish purchasing the ring.” While he waited for the clerk to bring him the small box and envelope, April’s struggles ceased, but he still held her by her wrist for fear of her running.

She looked pale, her eyes closed, and her head shook from side to side as she whispered, “This isn’t happening. Don’t do this to me, please.”

It tore at his heart but this would be his only chance to make her see the truth. Hopefully she could put aside her disbelief and find her faith in something magical again.

“Here you go, Mr. Addison.”

James smiled at the man’s slip of the tongue and took the box, thanking him for holding on to it for him. He was about to open it and get down on his knee when he remembered something important.

He handed the black velvet box to April. “Open it. Inside you will find a ring, an emerald, princess cut stone, surrounded by diamonds.”

Releasing her hands he stood back, giving April room. He prayed she wouldn’t bolt. Her hands trembled as she opened the hinged box.

“I was going to give it to you on Christmas Eve.”

Tears flowed faster down her cheeks as she stared at the ring inside. He ached to enfold her in his arms, kiss her senseless, and ask her to believe in him, if not fate. James didn’t want to scare her by moving too fast. He needed her to come to her own understanding.

She opened the note next, and a tiny piece of paper fluttered down to land on the ground.

James read, verbatim, inflecting the emotion and love he’d felt when he’d written the missive over a month ago.

“The emerald represents the fiery passion in your eyes. The diamonds, one for every ‘forever’ I want to spend with you. The gold band represents how fate constantly circles to bring us together. Fate will always find us when our hearts lead the way. Merry Christmas, my love. Yours for all time, J.A.” He bent down and picked up the other small piece of paper, the fortune he’d kept from her fortune cookie. He held up the ends of it for her to read. “April May Branford, do you believe in fate?”

She stared at him for a long moment, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could only nod. Her hand tentatively reached out and touched his chest. His heart beat erratically, hoping she’d make the connection.

“It really is you, James,” she finally choked out.

“April May Branford, will you marry me?”

The crowd outside that had gathered to watch the scene unfold waited with baited breath as they watched Kenneth Miles drop to one knee and present the ring to her. But it was James Addison who was staring up at the most beautiful woman in the world, his angel, his savior, his special gift fate had saved for him for two hundred thirty-eight years after his death.

April nodded again and wrapped herself around him, sending him sprawling on the old hardwood floor of the store. She was crying and laughing. He was unsure where one emotion ended and the other began and he didn’t give a damn. She was in his arms, and for once in his crazy existence, he knew this time was forever.

Eleven months later

April held their three month old daughter, Catherine Danielle, in her arms as she watched her husband perform for the crowds. From the front porch of their colonial manor, James greeted the very first guests to King’s Mill Historical Gristmill and Manor.

KJM Enterprises had hired nothing but the best to build the site. The rebirth of the legend had been overseen by the only person who could do it justice, the man who’d built it nearly two-hundred and fifty years ago. Nothing was overlooked. It was identical, right down to the grindstone in the grist mill.

Jostling little Catherine in her arms, April listened with heart palpitating pride to her husband’s performance. James was the man before her. She knew without a doubt. Everything they shared were moments of their first few weeks together, personified in a body so intricately different but the same in so many ways. It was the heart and soul of the man she loved.

“…Enjoy your day today here at Kings Mill and make sure you frequent our taverns and pubs in town. And gentlemen, give my best to Millie Taylor down at Old Town Tavern…” A series of laughs came from the crowd. April stepped forward and put her hand on her hip, giving her husband a reproachful glare.

“Better yet, give
your
best to Millie. I’m saving my best for my own special ladies,” he corrected, giving April and their bundle a gentle, loving embrace.

The crowd cheered and laughed as James doffed his tricorne with a gentlemanly flourish. April curtsied daintily and waved. The departing guests made their way around the grounds to view the mill in operation, take in the fields being readied for the winter season, and enjoy a sense of simpler days.

“You did a fine job, my love,” April said as she kissed her husband and tugged at the tail of hair hanging just past his shoulders. He’d grown his hair out again for her. “Are you ready to go out and give our respects to our friends?”

“Yes. I think we should introduce them to their name sake.” April swaddled their daughter close to her as James took her arm in his.

They walked over to the willow tree down by the creek. They’d exhumed the remains of James Addison from the pauper’s grave. His remains were now buried in the land he’d loved so much. A proper stone monument honored the body and his past. His grave overlooked the lands and the small cabin they built in remembrance of their friends.

It was part of the land James had given to Daniel upon the end of his servitude. It was now their home, literally. The two-room cabin he and Daniel had designed back in the day would be used as an exhibit as things were added to the site.

A marbled plaque lay in a vegetable and herb garden commemorating the spot, dedicating it to Daniel and Catherine Smith. Without remains to bury, James and April hoped the small cabin would be a symbol of a new beginning for them, after all these years.

April reached down to touch the chatelaine, her direct connection to Catherine. She’d realized her powers hadn’t left her when Beth gave her the token, pinning it to her gown as a bridal gift right before her wedding. She’d felt Catherine’s presence as she’d held the silver trinket and keys. There was a sense of peace and contentment from the previous owner.

“Do you think they approve? I wanted to make it as close to the design Daniel had for a home. I know Catherine was used to a bit more splendor.”

“They love it, just as it is.” April fought hard to hold back tears as she watched the young couple wave from their front porch, their arms around each other.

She reached for Catherine Danielle’s chubby little fist. “Wave Catherine, wave at them.”

“Are they there?” James asked in delighted shock.

“Right there on the porch,” her voice broke, and the tears flowed freely, dropping onto the baby’s bunting. April readjusted her precious bundle, turning the baby to see her first ghosts. Baby Catherine cooed and smiled as if she actually saw them, a happy spit bubble forming on her little bow of a mouth. April waved at the couple as the ghost of Catherine covered her heart with her hand and waved back to them. Daniel beamed and touched his floppy tricorne in salute to James.

“Daniel is saluting you.”

“Is he still wearing that damn ragged looking hat?” James joked. She noted the emotional catch in his throat as he waved back.

“Yep.” April laughed, trying hard to keep her emotions from showing. She jostled their daughter happily. A bright light emanating from the small cabin door stopped her. Her heart thudded warily against her chest, knowing what it meant. Daniel and Catherine waved happily once more before turning to enter their new home.

“I do believe fate has finally brought them home where they belong,” April sighed in contentment, turning her face into James’s side, hiding the sudden spring of tears.

James captured her face between his roughened palms, wiping away the moisture as it fell freely down her cheeks. “Fate only led you to us. It was you who helped us all to move on. You brought them peace after all these years so they could be together. And you gave me the chance to believe by bringing me to life.”

She felt the stirring of heat and warmth in her heart heading to warm other places in her body as James kissed her soundly, tenderly, stealing her breath.

Reaching up she caressed his face. “You made me believe by coming back to me when I had no reason to believe in anything anymore.” She believed now. He was real. She could touch him, be with him for the rest of their lives, because he made her finally
Believe in Fate
.