The Sugar Hill Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  Ambrose! I caught my breath and froze, as if being still would hide me from him. Since the day Mineola died, I hadn’t seen him. Had my renouncement failed to keep him away? Was he coming for me now that my protector was dead?

  No, it wasn’t Ambrose. It was my mother. She was on the other side of the gazebo, behind the trellis. “Mother! It’s you, it really is you.”

  Hush now, Annalee, or he will hear us.

  “No, Mother. You don’t have to be afraid of him. I made it right. I renounced him, and he can’t hurt me—he can’t hurt either of us.”

  Help him, Annalee. He will come soon…

  “Who? Help who, Mother? You mean Dominick?” My heart sank. Even in death, she cared more about my brother than she ever cared about me.

  He will come soon. Mother stepped back from the gazebo, her eyes holding mine for a moment. And then she vanished like smoke on the wind.

  I sat on a nearby bench and clutched my stomach. There was no use in plying Mother with more questions, for she was gone. I could feel the loss of her. Beautiful Mother, gone from me again. But clearly, I had a task to achieve. Dominick faced danger, and the idea of him coming to harm, especially on my behalf, sickened me. I fled the gazebo and pushed the boat into the water. It wasn’t as easy to move the oars now; it was as if an evil wind blew against me. I paddled to the shore and slid the boat out of the water. I reeked of pond water and sweat now. Running toward the house, I lost my sense of direction. Strange, since I could normally make my way to and from the water with my eyes closed—the three of us, Dominick, Champion and I, had lived on these shores growing up. Now all that had changed. I ran farther, thinking at any moment I would come to the hedge, but I ended up back at the shore. I tried again, but everything appeared so different. Sugar Hill was clearly ahead of me, but even the house had changed somehow. Something was off.

  And suddenly, Ambrose was there in all his heartbreaking, cruel beauty.

  Ambrose, the dead. Ambrose with no soul.

  I gasped as I fell back on the ground. Ambrose towered over me like a conquering lord, but I didn’t stay down. With all my might, I leaped up and headed back to the shore. I made it only a few feet when he was there again, waiting with cold anger on his face. To my complete shock, he swung his arm at me—the heavy dead limb slung me backward, and blood filled my mouth. Clutching my mouth with both hands, I smothered a scream. Then I heard Ophelia call my name. In a wave of shimmering hate, Ambrose vanished, and I headed pell-mell toward Sugar Hill. Ophelia screamed now, “Annalee! Somebody!”

  Running through the open back door, I slammed into a man’s chest. Immediately, I knew that it wasn’t Dominick. This figure was taller and unbending. Gasping for breath with a bloody mouth, I faced off with Champion. His sneer let me know that he was unrepentant and that in fact, he’d come for me specifically. And now he had me. Ophelia stood beside me now. Where was baby Ida?

  “What are you doing here, Champion? You are not welcome at Sugar Hill. Ophelia, find my brother.” She scurried away, her high-heeled shoes tapping on the floor as she left us. “Haven’t you done enough? Why did you come here? To finish the job?”

  With some surprise, I watched as Champion’s face softened slightly. No one else would have seen the change, but I knew him. I’d been looking at that face all my life, and loving it and trusting it completely—until that day.

  “This must end, Annalee. Stop torturing me. Do not return to Thorn Hill, or it will be worse for you, sister. I warned you before, and I warn you one last time—leave me alone.”

  I stepped back and pushed a loose tendril of silky black hair out of my face. “What are you talking about?” Then I noticed that Champion had been crying, and probably not sleeping. His eyes were red, and there were dark circles under them. The more I looked, the more I realized he was losing his grip on reality. He was a broken man—and that didn’t bring me the pleasure I had expected. Nor did I feel empathy for him—I felt nothing but sadness. “I haven’t been at Thorn Hill, Champion. Not since the day you stole from me.” It had to be Ambrose who tormented him! That evil spirit had promised to bring me revenge. Was this what he meant?

  “What did I steal, sister?” he asked with his empty expression.

  “Do you think I gave you my virtue? You stole it, brother. And you stole more than that. You stole my love for you, if that matters at all to you, you black-hearted bastard!” Surprising him—and myself—I slapped his chest with both hands. He recovered quickly.

  “I was drunk, Annalee. I was drunk and not thinking. I can’t take it back.”

  “You think I care about that? I want you to remember it forever. I want you to suffer as I have.”

  “But you made sure of that, didn’t you, Annalee? You come into my home and pretend to haunt me. You dress up like your mother and reach for me through walls and appear before me in closets and dark rooms. You’ve scared my wife nearly to death—she’s left with my son! She refuses to return to Thorn Hill. She wants me to burn it down, but I won’t because I am going to beat you, Annalee. I am going to beat you. Go ahead and come back to Thorn Hill soon so I can finish what I started. You have no mercy in your soul, Annalee!”

  “You speak to me of mercy? You? Get out of here, Champion Dufresne! Don’t come back!”

  Dominick walked in but said nothing to him. Champion appeared defeated and unsure of himself. These were rare things for him. After he silently left us, Dominick and I stared at one another.

  My brother put his arms around me, hugging me. “Tell me the truth, Annalee. Have you been to Thorn Hill? Are you tormenting him?”

  “All I do is take care of your daughter, brother. I go nowhere, except riding here at Sugar Hill occasionally. Today I went to the gazebo, and I saw Mother. She says you’re in danger.”

  He stiffened under my embrace. “Did she? You see the dead too, then? I thought I was the only one.”

  “Oh, Dominick. I’ve seen them all my life.” I hugged him tighter.

  Ophelia watched us, looking puzzled by the whole turn of events. “He’s going to come back, Dom. He’s coming back. Please be ready,” she said helplessly as she began to cry. “We can’t stay here. This place…it’s not normal. Please, let us all leave.”

  “I will not leave my father’s home. This is our home, and you worry too much, my love. Champion can’t do anything to me. I am not worried about him, but I worry about my sister. I love you, Annalee. You are all I have left. You and Ophelia, and of course, baby Ida.”

  As if on cue, we heard her crying as Olive brought her to us. She was our heart. I would protect her no matter what.

  Even if it meant laying down my life.

  Chapter Thirteen – Summer

  I decided I needed a day for myself and since I was already going into town to pick up my ball gown, I might as well make the most of it. It had been a long time since I’d had a day at the spa or even a hair trim or a manicure. Today I would do it all!

  Later, I had to host a going-away party for Pepper after the funeral. I wasn’t going to the funeral itself; the Dufresne family considered it bad luck for the matrone to attend them. But I did want to look nice at the party. After I got my nails done, I would go dress shopping. Hey—maybe I would shock them all and cut all my hair off! That would cause whispers, I was sure of it. It was tempting, but I couldn’t make up my mind. I made the quick stop to pick up my ball gown and then headed to the mall to do some more shopping.

  The mall was packed, but I liked blending in and feeling anonymous. Without looking where I was walking, I ran right into a man outside the entrance of a department store. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” He didn’t answer me or smile. Rude bastard, I thought. It irritated me that he hadn’t spoken, but what was really weird was he looked so much like my Jamie! I mean, they could almost have been twins. I even muttered, “Jamie…” but the man walked into the store and left me standing gawking at him. I felt my hands shake and got goose pimples all over.

&nbs
p; Despite my mini-premonition, I walked into the store. After five minutes of looking for Jamie’s look-alike, I’d given up the search. “Okay, Summer, you came in here for a dress, now get one.”

  I walked to the ladies’ dresses section, flipped through the racks, grabbed a couple dresses and walked toward the checkout. After paying for them, I left the store without ever spotting the man again.

  Am I just hallucinating? Am I seeing Jamie everywhere now? Because if I am, that’s going to be a problem. What was that shrink’s name that Aunt Anne used to visit? Perhaps I’d give him a call, since he’d be familiar with all the family “ghosts.” But then again, I was sure Aunt Anne’s brain was a playground compared to mine.

  On my way back to Sugar Hill, I decided to give Mike a call. I wasn’t sure I trusted Jessica to do that, and I clearly couldn’t allow her to keep investigating the old place without his assistance. He was really the only guy I knew who was familiar with Jessica’s unique abilities. Unfortunately, I had to call Becker to get Mike’s number, and he wasn’t about to hang up the phone without flirting with me and wanting to revisit the past. I was polite but aloof and got the information as quickly as I could. Becker finally had the brains to ask me why I’d called, and I told him of my concern for Jessica.

  “I can’t believe you would invite her back to that house, Summer. That place is like poison for her. Get her out of there, and do yourself a favor and call in a demonologist or someone who can handle what you’ve got up there. I hate that place.”

  “Thanks for the advice. Talk to you later.”

  I hung up with him and called Mike right away. He was the opposite of Becker, a complete professional and ready to help.

  “The soonest I can get there is this weekend, though,” he said. “I’ve got my wife’s birthday party and some other things to take care of, but I’ll be glad to come right down on Friday. You think she’s all right until then?”

  “She’s got that dreamy look in her eyes, but Jessica is the girl with the haunted eyes, after all.” That was a reference to a tag line in My Haunted Plantation’s roll-in: She’s the girl with the haunted eyes… “Congratulations, by the way, on your new season of the show. I must admit I never watched it before, but now I’m addicted. You guys rock, Mike!”

  “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. Please, keep me posted, and I will try to call Jessica myself in just a few minutes.”

  “Great! I’m headed back to Sugar Hill. She’s probably up and stirring by now.”

  “You left her alone?”

  “Yes, I had some errands to run, and she wanted to sleep in.”

  “Word of advice…don’t do that again. You can’t leave her alone when she’s in one of these—I don’t know what to call them—trance states? After a few days, she will be okay. But it’s best if you don’t leave her alone when she’s so open to the spiritual world.”

  With a pang of guilt, I nodded at myself in the rearview mirror and said, “Thanks for the advice. Anything else I should know?”

  “I can’t think of anything, but if I do, I’ll call you. See you guys in a couple days.”

  “Roger that. Thanks again, Mike.”

  I pulled into the driveway of Sugar Hill, and Matthew, one of our new staff members, came out to collect all my bags. “Thanks, Matthew. Is Miss Chesterfield inside?”

  “As far as I know, ma’am.” Well, he was no help.

  “You can just leave those inside. I’ll take them up.” I walked past the young man and went in search of Robin, who knew all things at all times when it came to Sugar Hill. I could have kicked myself for not already promoting her to be my assistant, but things had been so hectic that it just didn’t seem to be the right time.

  “Robin?” I called as I walked into the kitchen. “You in here?”

  “I’m in the pantry.”

  I walked in the pantry to find her juggling cans precariously on the ladder. “Good morning! Has Miss Chesterfield come down for breakfast yet? And should you be doing that? We do have sufficient help here, Robin. Just have one of your staff organize all this.”

  “I don’t mind. And as for Miss Chesterfield, not exactly. She grabbed some fruit off the sideboard and headed to the garden.”

  “Oh, crap. I should never have left her alone.” Mike’s words came back to haunt me.

  I scampered out of the pantry as Robin called after me, “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah! It’s fine!” I called back as I walked outside and headed toward the garden. I didn’t get far. Matthew was searching for me and handed me the house phone. Really, dude? You don’t see me running out the back door? I took it with a sigh of exasperation. “This is Summer.”

  “Hey! You sound out of breath.” It was Avery. Why was she calling me? She was supposed to be on her honeymoon.

  “Well, I decided to go for a run.”

  “That’s funny,” Avery said with a chuckle. “Seriously, what are you doing?”

  I smiled into the phone. “Not what you’re doing day and night, probably.” Everyone knew I hated exercise, and the idea of me going for a jog just for the heck of it was ridiculous. “The truth is Jessica is here, and she’s acting a bit squirrely. I’m going to look for her.”

  “Oh my gosh, Jessica? I had no idea she was coming.”

  “She had every intention of being here for the wedding but got stuck in traffic. She’s staying with me for a couple days before going home. She just got done wrapping up her season.”

  “I think it’s great how you came through for her. One of these days, you’re gonna have to tell me what you said to the Paranormal Channel.”

  “I’ll never tell my secrets.” I laughed, thinking with pleasure of my conversation with the showrunner. As they say, it helps to have friends in high places. I didn’t have many, not like some Dufresnes, but the ones I did have were pretty powerful. That was thanks in part to my Aunt Anne, who encouraged those relationships when she still considered me a candidate for matrone.

  “But why are you calling me, Miss Newlywed? Don’t tell me you’re pregnant already.” It was meant as a joke, and thankfully Avery thought it was hilarious. She got my dry humor and appreciated it, most of the time.

  “No way. I don’t plan on having babies anytime soon. I’m calling because this brilliant girl broke her leg water-skiing. I swear it’s the truth. Who breaks a leg on the water? Anyway, there’s no way I can host the Starlight Ball. I’m gonna need your help, Summer. I know that’s a huge imposition on top of everything else you’re doing for this event, but it would mean the world to me if you…”

  As Avery told me about her injury, I spotted something silver on the ground about ten feet ahead of me. I heard voices in the garden too. Jessica must have company this morning, I thought absently.

  “What about Reed? Can’t he do it? Goodness knows he has the face for it, and the ladies will love listening to him make a speech,” I said hopefully.

  “If you’d rather not do it, then I can ask him. I’m sorry to inconvenience you, Summer. I know I am asking a lot of you.”

  “I won’t lie, Avery. It is a huge inconvenience, mostly because I hate making public speeches. I’d need at least a week to come up with something, and the ball is in two nights. That’s too soon.”

  “What if I send you my speech? You could tweak a little, but I’m sure it would work. Use the stats and stuff—that’s why they’re coming, to hear what good the foundation is doing. You can do this, Summer. I know you can.”

  I reached down and picked up the silver item. It was a knife, about six inches long—it was a dangerous-looking blade. It was old-fashioned, not one of those cheap fold-up blades like you see on late-night infomercials. It looked familiar. I turned it over in my hand.

  “Summer? Are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, Avery, I have to go. I’ll do it. Go ahead and send me the speech. Let’s talk later.” I hung up the phone and slid it in my back pocket so I could examine the knife more closely.
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br />   Yes, I knew this knife. This was part of the set. A set of knives that belonged to Champion Dufresne.

  Chapter Fourteen – Jessica

  It was foolish to think I could somehow replicate what happened to me in the garden, but I had to give it a shot. According to my research, Dominick and Champion were fated to fight again, and this time their confrontation would be to the death. But that’s where things got murky. According to some of the historical accounts recorded in the family “histories,” Champion died a miserable young man at Thorn Hill. The cause of his death was never determined, but it was the consensus among those faded histories that Champion became a tortured individual who turned to alcohol to make his miserable life bearable. His son and wife died in the yellow fever epidemic, and he never remarried, although there were some hints that he had other children. In other accounts, Dominick—my Dominick—died by Champion’s hands.

  How was it that I could fall in love with a man from the past, a man I had known only a few days? Unlike some people my age, I wasn’t obsessed with finding love or being in love. Nope, I was definitely wallflower material and happy to be so, for the most part. Sure, I’d halfway convinced myself that I loved Becker, but now that I’d experienced the real thing I knew I hadn’t loved him. Becker was a friend but nothing else. What I felt for Dominick Dufresne, that was real.

  Circling the garden a few times with my investigator hat on seemed like an appropriate way to start my search. It kept me from feeling hopeless. Believing that I could navigate my way back to Dominick’s side was the only way I kept it all together. “Dominick?” I called as if I would find him hiding behind a tree. Or perhaps he would discover a hidden portal that would lead me back to his 19th-century world.

  What if this is all in my head?

  Maybe I had imagined at all. It was quite possible. We floated that idea around quite a bit on the set of My Haunted Plantation. People could be very influenced by their surroundings, and what better place to feel a romantic influence than a grand old house like Sugar Hill? Maybe I was seeing him because I wanted to.