In the cemetery rested many strong New Englanders who had considered the island their home. The number of those year-round locals seldom exceeded sixty-five because of its isolation, particularly during the harsh, cold winters, but a handful of old timers had been there fifty years or more. One such old timer had been Devin’s grandmother, who called the island home for fifty-seven years. She had arrived there as a young bride, tending the light with her husband for thirty-five of those years.
Spending every summer with her grandparents, and then with Grandma after Grandpa died, was the highlight of Devin’s growing-up years. She knew the island like the back of her hand. She’d hiked miles of trails through towering evergreens, climbed the steep and rocky ledges of the ocean cliffs, and enjoyed picnics along the shore. She also spent many hours sitting and watching her grandma paint.
Devin smiled at the memory. Amelia Fuller had been a talented painter. Most mornings would find her setting up her easel along the shoreline, painting beautiful landscapes of the flora and fauna. She painted the crashing waves and rocky cliffs, and even the fishing boats and lobster fishermen who sailed in from the mainland. She’d been an inspiration to Devin, who had her own creative ambitions of becoming a writer.
A dull pain pulsed in her heart as she remembered the night her grandmother succumbed to pneumonia. She had remained at Grandma’s bedside for two days and nights. With the end near, Grandma had fallen unconscious, and her pulse barely throbbed. The country doctor had declared her gone when suddenly her eyes flew open and she grasped Devin’s hand. Clear as a bell, Amelia whispered, “Follow your dreams, child. They will lead you to love.”
It was strange how she’d completely forgotten those final prophetic words until now. Follow your dreams. They will lead you to love. What had her grandma meant? Had she foresaw the future on her deathbed?
Devin glanced at the handsome fisherman at the wheel. Did Kipp Sullivan play a role in those dreams, or with the love Grandma spoke of? He seemed so familiar. Yet she was sure they’d never met before. Illogical, yes, but it felt like they were connected in some way.
“Who’s sick?” he asked, raising his voice above wind that howled like wolves.
His voice dissolved her memories. She snapped back to the here and now where rolling waves pitched the Serafina from side to side. Devin gripped her chair with white knuckles.
Her response was shaky. “Sick? You asked me a while ago if I was seasick.”
“Not that. Back at the harbor ya told the man in the ticket booth that ya had to get to the island today because of a medical emergency.”
The recollection of her fib sent heat creeping into her cheeks. “Ah, yes. My sick relative.” She hated to admit she’d lied, but there didn’t appear to be any way around it. “I made that up. I was desperate to get on the ferry and thought the man in the booth could speak to the captain who might take pity on me. Obviously it didn’t work.”
Kipp’s open smile reassured her. “That proves you’re a woman who will try anything to get what she wants. I guess you’re just not a good enough liar.”
“Guess not.”
“So, why are ya paying me seventy-five dollars to ferry you over in this God-awful weather? What’s so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
Before she could answer, another wave rose out of the ocean like a phoenix. Kipp cranked the wheel but was unable to avoid smashing into it. The impact was similar to hitting a brick wall. Devin slipped off the seat. Landing on her knees, she seized the chair and held on for dear life. In their hurry to board, she’d forgotten to ask for a life jacket. Her cold hands slipped from around the chair and she felt herself start to slide.
With one firm grip on the wheel, Kipp stretched out his other arm. “Take my hand!” His eyes flashed with authority.
She grabbed for his hand and then managed to scramble to her feet and lunge toward him. After flinging herself into his protective arms, she buried her face in his shoulder and clung tightly when another column of water crashed into the boat, spraying them both with frigid sea and salt.
“Awesome!” Kipp squeezed her and laughed like a jackal.
She could have flown over the side of the boat if not for his quick reflexes. A tiny moan escaped her throat.
“Are ya okay?” he asked.
She nodded, unable to find her voice for a moment.
“Are ya sure? You look a bit peaked.”
She blew ten pounds of pressure from her lungs. “I just saw my life flash before my eyes is all.”
He chuckled again. “You’re safe with me, and we’re almost to our destination.”
Kipp’s confidence was attractive. When she assured him she was okay, he removed his arm and returned his focus to steering the fishing boat through the rough water. Standing beside him for the remainder of the trip, no more words were uttered, but he grinned at her every once in a while.
What was the connection to this man? Why did it seem to be destiny that they meet today, of all days? How could she explain her quivering heart and raging hormones when he stared at her? Things like this only happened in the romance stories she wrote. Didn’t they?
When the Serafina finally docked on the island’s shore one and a half hours after leaving Boothbay, the storm had been left behind on the sea. The sky above Monhegan was thick with clouds, but the rain had not arrived yet.
Devin was more than anxious to get her land legs back. She slipped off the big rubber boots and disembarked.
After plodding up a dirt road, she waited under the shelter of a tin-roofed shack and watched Kipp secure his boat to the dock. When he joined her a few moments later, she handed him seventy-five dollars.
“Thank you for bringing me over. What time should we meet back down here?”
“Have ya lost your mind, girl? Ya don’t think we’re going back tonight, do ya?”
Her eyes enlarged. “Well, yes, I do. I didn’t expect to be staying. I didn’t bring a bag or a change of clothes. The rain hasn’t even come. Maybe the storm will bypass the island.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to do with what ya have on,” Kipp stated. “That storm is coming and it’s moving fast. It’ll hit Monhegan within the hour. Have ya got a place to stay? A relative or a friend to bunk with?”
She peered into the sky. The sun was trying to peek out from behind a gray cloud. “I still think there’s a chance it’s going to pass over us,” she said with hope.
“Nope. I know what I’m talking about. We’re not going back onto the boat.” He stared at her with steely determination, and she realized there would be no more discussion about it.
“In that case, I’ll get a room at the Island Inn,” she said.
“You’ll be lucky if there’s availability this time of year.”
“Hopefully, there will be something. If not, I guess I’ll sleep on a sofa in the lobby.”
His mouth tipped in a crooked smile. “I might be sharing that sofa with you if they don’t have two extra rooms. Would you mind?”
She felt a blush creep up her neck. Behind his plum-colored eyes smoldered a man who had awakened a hunger inside Devin.
“Maybe we should register before doing anything else,” he suggested.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll register later. If you’ll excuse me, I really need to be on my way. I want to visit the cemetery before the rain starts. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“I hope so.”
After tossing him a wave goodbye, she started the trudge up the steep dirt hill that led to the cemetery and long-abandoned lighthouse. Feeling his stare between her shoulder blades, she turned and indeed found Kipp still standing at the bottom of the hill. He grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
“You.” He pointed at her feet. “Don’t tell me you’re going to walk to the top in those water-logged sandals.”
Devin peered down. True, they did slosh with each step and were probably ruined. But she had no option except t
o walk in bare feet, and the terrain was rocky. She ignored Kipp’s deep, masculine laugh and playfully blew him a kiss.
Having no idea how long he continued to watch her, she quelled the urge to look over her shoulder. Maybe he’d turn out to be just another dream that might disappear. That was a thought she couldn’t bear.
When she made it to the top, a hand fluttered to her chest. It took a moment for her to catch her breath. Standing on the crest of the hill overlooking the village below, she inhaled and exhaled slowly.
Small cottages with backyard gardens of flowers and vegetables dotted the hilly landscape. In the harbor, she spotted the Serafina, as well as another, sleeker fishing boat that must have pulled in after them. Devin could even see a painter along the rocky shore, standing at his easel with brush and paint board in hand, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing.
Her gaze latched onto a cottage with a country-style thatched roof and a flagpole out front. With her heart beating in her ears, she noted the old tire swing still hung from the big tree out back, and the picket fence still needed painting. Many fond memories of fun-filled days and star-studded nights were linked to that little home. How she missed Grandma! The ache she felt in her chest turned to a deep, agonizing burn.
Before tears blurred her eyes, she wandered to the cemetery. Although the sky was darkening and getting gloomier by the moment, the melodic symphony of birds chirped all around her. They welcomed her home again.
A flash of light streaked across the sky, causing Devin to jump. When a cool breeze whipped her hair around her face and rustled the tops of the trees, she had to admit Kipp was correct. The storm was moving in, and it was coming fast.
She quickly walked under the elegant iron archway and marched straight to her grandmother’s grave. Someone had recently placed a pot of red geraniums there. Kneeling, she slid her finger across the glistening hard surface of the marble headstone. Tears sprang to her eyes as she lowered her head and whispered a fervent prayer.
“Grandma, why am I here? Please help me unlock the secret of my dreams. Who is the woman in white, and what does she want with me? You advised me to follow my dreams and I’d find love. Where is the love you foresaw?”
She lay on her side and rested her head upon the mound of grass. For a year, sorrow had swelled inside. Finally, it was time to let the tears flow. Like the rain that began to softly fall, the tears washed over her in waves, refreshing her spirit and nourishing her soul.
Fat droplets splattered rhythmically onto the headstones throughout the cemetery, sounding like musical notes. Next to her, a young bird flapped its wings as it splashed in a small puddle formed by the footprint of her sandal.
Devin lifted her head as a sudden cold gale carried an eerie whistle upon the wind. As though she were a puppet on a string, her neck rotated toward the abandoned lighthouse. The light was on in the tower.
How could the light be on? She knew the light hadn’t worked in years.
Stumbling to her feet, she dashed between the maze of headstones and out the cemetery gate. In the manner of a typical island storm, the wind and rain blew into a frenzy within moments. Devin jerked off her sandals and ran barefoot to the base of the lighthouse. Shaking from sudden exposure, she stared up at the small oval window fifty feet above. A jagged bolt of lightning sliced through the darkened sky, and in one sharp instant, Devin saw her. The woman stood at the window, her shadowy face staring down. Rain slashed at the glass, and the small window rattled wildly in its ancient casing, caught in the fury of the burgeoning storm. With a blink of her eye, the vision was gone.
Devin’s fist flew to her mouth. Had she really seen someone? Or was her imagination playing tricks? Thunder boomed and another jagged flash lit up the sky, illuminating the window again. The figure was still there! The woman’s long auburn hair lay curled around her shoulders, and the wide lace collar of her white dress accentuated the slender arch of her neck.
Devin stood trancelike as the ghostly shape of a man magically appeared at the woman’s side. He placed a spectral arm around her waist. His hair was dark and he wore an odd-looking shirt with a ruffle down the front. His face, like hers, was cast in long shadows. An icy thread wound its way up Devin’s spine when he tenderly took the woman’s chin between his fingers and brushed his lips against hers.
Another clap of thunder wrenched Devin from her trance. She jumped and blinked, and the two smoky shapes dissipated into thin air.
“No! Come back!” she shouted.
She pounded her fist upon the small lighthouse door. It was padlocked. “Open up!” she called desperately into the wind. She pounded again, and the lock magically broke apart and the chain thudded to the ground. With her mouth open in shock, she flung the door open and planted one foot on the bottom step of the old wooden stairs. Her gaze lifted at the exact moment the two phantoms glided down the staircase, hand in hand.
Frozen with nowhere to turn, Devin gasped when they rocketed through her body with the power of a freight train. Knocked backward onto the ground, her chest burned with the impact.
With the air literally knocked out of her, she fought to breathe. Struggling to her feet, she saw the couple float across the wet grass. The beaming light in the woman’s kindled eyes caught Devin’s gaze and held. She summoned her with ethereal fingers. Unable to resist, Devin staggered across the ground following the vaporous couple. They drifted through the air and hovered at the edge of the cliff.
It took only an instant. Still holding hands, the couple took one giant step into the air and vanished over the cliff.
Devin clutched at her throat and scurried to the edge and peered over. She saw nothing but the sheer cliff walls, sharp rocks, and crashing waves below.
“Devin!”
Whirling, she saw Kipp running toward her. He opened his arms, and she walked into them and rested her head on his chest. Her clothes were soaked through, and she was emotionally drained.
“Did you see them?” she asked wearily. “Did you see the man and woman on the cliff?”
He glanced around. “There’s no one out here, Devin.” He set her back. “You’re drenched and so am I. Let’s get out of this storm.” Shrugging off his rain jacket, Kipp wrapped it snuggly around her shoulders and helped her down the hill to the village.
When they entered the Island Inn lobby, the lights flashed several times. The hotel manager handed them matches and candles in the likelihood the power would go out. Frozen to the bone, Devin couldn’t stop shivering.
“I’ll show ya to your room,” Kipp said, pulling a door key from his pocket.
She pushed strands of wet hair from her face. “You reserved a room for me?”
“Yeah. I was afraid they might fill up quickly due to the storm.”
“Thank you.” Exhausted, the simple phrase was all she could muster.
He walked her down the hall, drew a hot bath and lit several candles, and then retreated to his own room, promising to return.
Sometime later when both were warm, dry, and dressed in robes provided by the Inn, they sat together on the sofa in her room. The electricity had gone out, and the soft glow of flickering candlelight made for a romantic atmosphere.
The room was decorated in Victorian style, with dark, plush fabrics on the furniture, a four-poster canopy bed, and an oriental carpet covering the gleaming wood floor. They finished the iced tea and cold sandwiches someone from Room Service had delivered.
Refreshed from the warm bath, Devin felt almost human again. “Thank you for reserving a room for me. It was very thoughtful,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t want ya to be left out in the cold, literally.”
They stared at one another for what seemed an eternity. Then Kipp’s hand covered hers. His gaze held her in an iron grip. “Do you want to talk?” he asked. “I’m a good listener.”
She armored herself against the pull of his vibrant eyes and took some steadying breaths. It would only be a matter of time before she shared what ha
d happened up at the lighthouse. There was no use in putting off the inevitable.
First, she told him about the dreams. When she saw he didn’t freak out or look at her like she was a lunatic, she calmly described the ghosts at the lighthouse. Detailing their hazy features the best she could, Devin told him how drawn she felt to the woman each time she dreamed of her. Remarkably, Kipp didn’t flinch when she said the ghosts had passed through her body and disappeared into thin air at the edge of the cliff.
“Do you think I’m a nut?” she asked.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “No.”
“You don’t?” She sighed in relief.
“No, but I want to ask one question. How were those two people dressed?”
There was no hesitation on her part. “They appeared to be from the Victorian age. The woman wore a white dress with a lace collar and puff sleeves, and the man wore a long-sleeved shirt with a fancy ruffle down the front.”
“Just as I suspected.” Kipp’s brow snapped together. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“I need to show ya something. Come with me.” He lowered one of the lit candles into his empty drinking glass and laced his fingers between hers. They walked through the hotel lobby dressed in their robes and slippers. Other guests openly gawked, but Devin didn’t care. And evidently, neither did Kipp. Holding her hand, he made a beeline for the hotel parlor.
Through more muted candlelight, Devin glimpsed the room’s deep red embossed wallpaper, Persian carpet, comfortable leather chairs, and stone fireplace. Books covered one entire wall, and hanging on the remaining three walls were oil paintings in ornate frames.
“Do you trust me?” he asked mysteriously.
She smiled. “I barely know you, but for some odd reason, I do trust you.”
He placed a hand over her eyes and guided her toward the back of the room. Then he gently pressed her back against the wall and removed his hand. “Stay right there until I tell you to look.”
“Look at what?”
A muscle quivered in his jaw.
Beckoning Spirit (A Romantic Paranormal Short Story) Page 2