A Forever Kind of Love Page 9

  “Go away!” she moaned, rolling over. “Would everyone just go away and leave me alone.”

  CHILL EVENING AIR WOKE Charlie and she sat up groggily. Voices floated up from the porch. She hadn’t heard Jack arrive, but his rich baritone mingled pleasingly with Janelle’s silvery laughter.

  That could have been me, she thought sadly. Sharing a moment with Jason. But no, I had to make a promise to a ghost. And yet...a quiver of awareness made her look around. And yet, she knew she was doing the right thing. Now where to start?

  She stood at the bottom of the attic steps, staring up the narrow passageway. The enclosed space appeared even more daunting at night. She had to move now, or she’d lose her nerve. She fought back her fear, pulled the light chain and ran up the stairs. Once inside the attic door she fumbled for the light switch, calming her pounding heart. The weak bulb cast enough light to guide her to ‘her’ corner. Oddly shaped shadows loomed behind items that been stored and forgotten for years. Finding solace in the comfortable corner, she turned on the table lamp and sank gratefully into the chair, one hand clutched over her racing heart.

  And then she saw it. The lid of the trunk was up! Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at the trunk.

  Her thoughts raced as she took in the rest of the room, where everything was as before. Her gaze reluctantly returned to the trunk. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out; the trunk held something important...something that would bring Charlotte and Harm back together.

  Charlie re-examined the linens in the top tray. There was nothing there. No secret message stitched into the pillowcases, no treasure map where X marked the spot. With a snort of derision at her wild imaginings, she lifted the top tray out and set it aside. The sheets, tablecloths and blankets were undisturbed. What message could they possibly hold? Determined to exhaust every possibility she fell to her knees. Could there be some sort of message... a letter perhaps... stuck between the folds? Slowly and methodically she ran her hand between each layer of fabric.

  Near the bottom of the trunk, between layers of crisp linen sheets, her hand brushed up against something solid. She reached farther, and her heart started to race. Her fingers closed around a leather-bound book. Fearing disappointment, she hesitated. It was probably a Bible. Well, she wouldn’t get the answer sitting here. She withdrew the item slowly.

  Her fingers traced gold-embossed words on the cover. “My Journal” she said aloud. This was what she had been meant to find. With utmost care, she tidied everything in the trunk, replaced the tray and closed the lid. The journal had waited all this time; it could wait a moment or two more.

  Satisfied that everything had been returned to its original position, she settled into the chair to read.

  “WENDY, WHERE ARE YOU?” Jason’s voice seemed to echo in the house since the boys were away.

  “Down here.”

  He should have known. Wendy was like his mother, who had also preferred to work in the cooler summer kitchen. Surprisingly, some of his favourite memories were of the summer he’d contracted a severe case of poison ivy. To while away the time during his recuperation, he had watched his mother bake. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her hands kneading bread. The yeasty smell of rising bread still made him itch uncomfortably.

  “I’m making some butter tarts to take over to Laurel. Did you hear that her mother fell and broke her hip?”

  Jason ran his finger inside the bowl and licked the rich filling absent-mindedly. “Yeah, I did. Charlie volunteered to clean The Trip this week.” He reached inside the bowl a second time.

  “Stop that!” Wendy batted at his hand. “How is Charlie, anyway?”

  He rolled his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. “That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Wendy filled the last tart shell and slid the tray into the oven. Then she started to clean the table. “What is it, Jason?”

  He wandered around the room, touching familiar objects. He stopped by the window, his back to his sister-in-law. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  Wendy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know,” she said carefully. “I don’t not believe in them.”

  He turned to her with a rueful smile. “That’s not much help.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what this is about?”

  He took a deep breath. “Charlie says she’s been talking to a ghost.”

  “Talking to a ghost?” Wendy’s expression was bland. “The one in Janelle’s old farmhouse, I suppose. Her name is Charlotte.”

  “You know about that?” His voice rose. “How come I’ve never heard about it?”

  “I don’t know, Jason.” She looked at him levelly. “She’s been there a long time, but I’ve never actually seen her. Charlie talked to her, you say?”

  “Not exactly.” Jason couldn’t believe she was being so cool. “She says she talked to a ghost at The Trip.” He held up two fingers. “Twice.”

  “Now that’s a new one.”

  “No kidding!”

  “Well, you don’t have to be sarcastic. I don’t imagine she made all this up, do you?”

  “No.” This conversation wasn’t going the way he’d imagined. “You don’t seem very upset about it. I mean, don’t you think it’s kind of weird, her claiming she talked to a ghost?”

  “I’m amazed she trusted you enough to tell you. Who is it?”

  “Who?”

  “The ghost. Who else? Really, Jason, get with the program.”

  “Oh. It’s the cowboy that Charlie’s ancestor was supposed to run off with.”

  Wendy frowned, deep in thought. “I’m trying to remember the story. I believe they planned to get married. To my way of thinking that’s different than simply running off.”

  “Does it matter?” He truly didn’t understand.

  “Of course it does. To a woman, anyway.” She frowned. “This has obviously got you upset. Why?”

  “Because it’s so...” he waved a hand in the air. “I don’t know, it’s so strange. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I can see that. But have you given any thought to how Charlie must feel about it? Maybe it disturbs her just as much as it does you.” She watched him carefully. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” He stopped pacing and turned to her. “How did you know?”

  “Well, apart from the fact that you talk about her a lot, I saw you last night. She’s the first woman you’ve taken to your place since Christine left.” She smacked herself on the forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot. Christine called.”

  “I had my cell off. Did she leave a message?”

  “No, but she sounded suspiciously friendly.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s all I need.” He picked up his Stetson. “Thanks, Wendy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “WOW.” CHARLIE LOWERED the journal to her lap. “Things were sure different back then.” Charlotte’s descriptions of life in the big farmhouse leaped off the page. The sounds, smells, atmosphere were as real to Charlie as if she had stepped back in time. She was delighted to learn that Charlotte had written the journal right here, in the corner where she now felt so comfortable.

  The passages describing Charlotte’s first meeting with Harm were heartbreakingly poignant. Not surprisingly, the attraction had been immediate and strong. Charlie could almost hear their whispered words of love.

  Her hand went to her throat as Charlotte described wearing Harm’s ring on a gold chain and her eyes misted over with sympathetic tears as she read the touching passage Charlotte had written after learning of Harm’s death. It was difficult to read how he’d been thrown from a horse during a rodeo, dying instantly. The money he’d hoped to earn would have been their start toward a new life.

  Tears spilled from Charlie’s eyes and she didn’t try to stop them. She cried not only for Charlotte, but for herself as well. She’d trusted Jason enough to tell him of the strange occurrences and he’d taken that trust and thrown i
t back in her face. Even now she wished he would try to understand. If only...

  She brushed away the tears with her fingertips, determined to get back to the matter at hand. What had she learned from the journal? Nothing, really. She skimmed through the last few pages and decided that they would keep until tomorrow. She pulled a piece of lavender from the teapot at her side and stuck it between the pages. As she did, she noticed that the writing had changed. It was still Charlotte’s, but it wasn’t the graceful script that flowed across the previous pages.

  There’s something different here, she thought to herself. Perhaps a few more pages. She settled down to read.

  “Charlie? Are you up there?” Janelle startled her and she closed the journal, her thoughts swirling.

  “Yes, I’m here.” She placed the journal on the table beside the bouquet of lavender and turned out the light. “Has Jack gone? I didn’t hear him leave.”

  “He just left.” She stood at the foot of the stairs and Charlie ran down. “What were you doing up there?”

  “I was reading.” That much was true. “It’s such a peaceful atmosphere.”

  “I suppose so. I haven’t been up there in years.” She shivered dramatically. “Your mother used to tease me. She’d tell me there were ghosts up there.”

  Charlie smiled. “I’ll let you know if I see any.”

  CHARLIE LAY ON HER side, barely aware of the moon rising behind the old elm outside her bedroom. The leaves cast shadowy fingers across her bed as the moon angled its way up the inky sky. Her thoughts were with Charlotte, and the last few journal pages she’d managed to read before Janelle called. Raging against the tragic loss of Harm, Charlotte had ripped the ring from the chain around her neck and thrown it away as though by doing so she could rid herself of painful memories.

  Charlie rolled onto her back. Throwing away the ring had been a desperate act by a heartbroken young woman, and she could sympathize with her one hundred percent. Hadn’t she felt the same way this afternoon, wanting to strike back at Jason? Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the same, but deep down she and Charlotte shared the hope that things could be put right.

  Her gaze drifted back to the window. She’d never noticed before just how quickly the moon moved. She watched it for a few moments, wondering if from now on she’d think of Jason every time she saw it. Before meeting him, she’d rarely noticed it.

  She crawled out of bed, impatiently kicking at the sheets tangled around her legs. Hadn’t the moon been half full when she and Jason sat by the lake that first night? She pressed her forehead against the window, thinking back. Yes, and now it was much larger. If only...she shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself but the notion persisted, worming into her consciousness. Was it possible? She raised her eyes, daring to think ahead to the night when it would shine the most brightly. The full moon.

  CHARLIE SLEPT FITFULLY and woke as daylight started to fill the sky. She looked toward the east and her thoughts inevitably turned to Jason. She owed him an apology for walking off yesterday, for not looking back when he called her. How was she going to solve Charlotte’s problems when she couldn’t even manage her own life?

  “That’s it,” she said aloud and swung her feet onto the floor. “I’m going over there right now and apologize.”

  She dressed quickly and examined her reflection in the mirror. Not bad, considering that she’d had very little sleep. But if she stopped to shower and fuss with her appearance, she’d lose her nerve.

  She went quietly down the stairs, fearful of waking Janelle. She didn’t want anyone – even her aunt – to second-guess her decision. Thomas rose and walked out onto the verandah with her where he sat blinking in the early morning light.

  Charlie found the ATV in the drive-in shed where Jason had pointed it out. Thankfully the key was in the ignition and she was soon on the trail skirting Jason and Brad’s property. It had rained during the night; everything was washed clean. Droplets of water hung from the leaves of the alfalfa, sparkling like precious gems in the first rays of the sun.

  As she pulled up in front of Jason’s home the screen door opened and he came out. He was wearing jeans, but no shirt or shoes. His body was as she knew it would be; hard and toned. The sight of him took her breath away and she swallowed, searching for her voice.

  He took a few steps forward. “Charlie, what are you doing here?” He glanced back toward the house. “This is a surprise.” His voice was warm and welcoming. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all.

  “Sorry to show up like this, but I wanted to apologize.” Charlie knew she was grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. “I never should have–”

  “Jason, who is it?” The screen door opened behind him and Jason closed his eyes. A woman came out wearing one of his shirts and not much more. She stood next to him and looked down at Charlie. Jason gave her a horrified look but Charlie scarcely noticed. The woman could have modeled for Victoria’s Secret. Tall, slender and beautiful even in her tousled state, she was everything that Charlie wasn’t.

  Charlie tore her eyes away from the woman and looked at Jason. “I’m so sorry,” she said, fumbling for the ignition of the ATV. “I never should have come without calling.”

  “Charlie!” Jason called after her, but she didn’t hear him; she’d already pulled away and was roaring down the trail, mindless of the tears blurring her vision. She’d never been so mortified in her life.

  JASON WATCHED CHARLIE drive away and then turned to Christine. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?” she asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

  “Don’t give me that!” he said, turning and walking through the living room, into the kitchen. She followed him and he turned to face her. “You did that on purpose Christine, and I don’t appreciate it.”

  “I’m sorry Jason, but like I said last night, I was hoping we could try again.” She laid a hand on his bare chest and he jumped back.

  “No, Christine. That’s not going to happen.” He busied himself with making coffee. “I thought I made that clear.” He strode into the living room and started to fold the blankets on the couch. “I want you to go back today. One night sleeping here on this couch is one night too many.” He turned to her, trying to contain his growing anger. “It’s over, Christine. Believe me, there’s no future for us.”

  JANELLE WAS IN THE kitchen when Charlie got back. “Did I hear you drive off on the ATV?” she said hopefully.

  Charlie sighed. “Yes.” I woke up this morning and decided that I owe Jason an apology.” She accepted a mug of coffee. “So I drove up to his place.”

  “Good idea.”

  Charlie shook her head. “Not a good idea.”

  “Not a good idea?” Janelle frowned.

  “He had a woman there.” Charlie looked up. “I think it was his old girlfriend. Whoever it was, she’s absolutely gorgeous. He had no shirt on and she came out in next to nothing.”

  “Ouch.”

  “No kidding. I don’t think I’ve ever been so humiliated, but it was my own fault.” She thought back to the scene on the verandah. “The odd thing is that when he first came out he seemed pleased to see me. I might have imagined that, but not the rest of it.”

  Janelle took a sip of coffee and looked out into the yard. “It seems awfully quick, doesn’t it? Wasn’t it just yesterday afternoon that you two had a fight?”

  Charlie nodded. “It didn’t take him long, did it?” She stood and picked up her mug. “I don’t want to be around here when he comes this morning to take care of the chickens. I think I’ll head into town and finish up with the cleaning.”

  “Good idea. See you later.”

  “I’M BACK.” CHARLIE stood impatiently beside the carousel pole waiting for Harm to appear. She had so much to tell him, plus she hoped that he would be able to give her some clues. She spread her hands. “It’s just me.” Her voice sounded hollow in the large space.

  “Come on, Harm. I need to talk to you.” Really, did he want her help or not? Sh
e turned slowly, searching the far corners of the room. It was unnecessary... she knew she was alone.

  She shrugged. “All right then, I’ll finish my cleaning.” Her voice cracked. “Why should I care?” she said aloud, sorting through the cupboard for cleaning supplies. “I should be glad you’re not here. Maybe now I can get my life back.” None too gently she loaded cleaning supplies onto the table of the first booth. “And while I’m at it, maybe I should stop talking to myself.”

  “Hello, Charlie.” He sounded anxious, tentative.

  Her anger dissolved at the sound of his voice. She greeted him eagerly. “Guess what? I found Charlotte’s journal.”

  His eyes lit up. “She kept a journal? I didn’t know that.”

  “Well she did. It was all about you.” She took a step toward him. “She loved you a lot, but then I guess you know that.”

  He nodded, and Charlie looked aside as he struggled to control his emotions.

  Her tone turned brisk. “Anyway, I learned some things. She wrote about the ring, and how she wore it on a chain around her neck, like you told me. But when she heard about...you know, about you being killed, she threw it away.”

  “The ring? She threw it away?” He looked around the dance hall as though expecting to find the answer. “Why?”

  “I don’t believe it was something she planned to do. I got the impression that it happened in a moment of despair.” She paused. “According to the family story, she stayed in the attic for several days when she first got the news. It must have been after that.” She flashed him a sympathetic glance. “I’m sorry Harm, but it was only a ring. And trust me, she never stopped loving you. Every word of the journal confirms that.”

  “But the ring!” He looked down at his hand, his expression bleak. “The rings were our touchstones.” He raised his head, his eyes pained. “They were our link. I swear, when I wasn’t with her, I could touch my ring and almost feel her heart beating.” He lowered his eyes. “And she said the same thing.”