I heard scratching at the door and found fat Bienville looking forlorn and hungry. “Come on, chubby. You’re on your own tonight, though. I have a date!” Then I spotted Iberville at the edge of the porch. The white cat was perched on the railing, his tail flicking. I called to him, hoping to pet him as a thank you for saving me from Mia, but he chose to ignore me again. That was okay. I could love him from a distance—I’d seen those claws in action. I put some water in a dish for Bienville and headed to the bathroom to get ready. My phone rang again, and I picked it up laughing, thinking it was Ashland. It wasn’t. I heard Alice Reed’s voice on the phone.
“Carrie Jo? Is that you? This is Alice.”
“Hello, Mrs. Reed. Yes, this is Carrie Jo.” I sat on the side of the bed, holding my breath. What would I say? Just tell the truth, CJ.
“I’m sorry to call like this, but we need your help.” I could imagine Alice’s stiff bouffant hairstyle shaking as she spoke. She and Myron were good people, always kind to everyone. “We are in Mobile, at the Battle House. We have talked with Mia. Carrie Jo, she is willing to turn herself in, but she wants to talk to you first. I know it won’t matter much, and I know she’s done wrong. But she’s pretty insistent, and I’d like to talk to you too.” Her voice lowered, and she spoke in a careful, respectful way. “My daughter isn’t well, Carrie Jo. She hasn’t been for a long time…”
She seemed well enough when she attacked me, I thought, but I didn’t say that. I respected Alice too much. “Is she sick?”
“No. Well, yes, but not physically. It’s another kind of sickness.”
“Oh.” I had firsthand knowledge of the other kind of sickness. My mother had battled mental illness all her life. How had I handled it? By avoiding her, giving up on her. Running away as often as I could. Mental illness was a cruel disease, but there were times I was sad and ashamed about the way I had handled things. Had I really done all I could for Momma?
“There’s more to it than that. Anyway, may we please meet with you in the morning? Just me and Myron and then Mia? I feel like we owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Mrs. Reed. You were always good to me, but Mia has tried to hurt me, twice. I hope she does get help. Believe it or not, I care about her.”
“We know you do. When she comes back to herself, she will remember that too. May we meet with you in the morning? Here at our hotel? Say about 8 a.m.?”
“Sure, I’ll be there. Actually, 9 works better if that’s okay with you. What room?”
“Yes, we can do 9. We will meet you in the lobby—we can talk there. Thank you, Carrie Jo.”
I hung up the phone, feeling relieved that they’d found Mia, spoken to her. I hoped she would turn herself in. Perhaps since Isla’s “spell” was broken, it was broken over Mia too. I could only hope. Maybe things were going to be okay with her after all. I stroked Bienville’s orange fur and then went to take a quick shower. I needed to rinse away the sweat. No matter how cool it was in the house, just stepping outdoors for a second made me feel like a wilted flower. I wouldn’t have time to wash my hair, so I pulled it up into a ponytail on top of my head and put on a shower cap.
For the first time in a long time, I sang in the shower. It felt good to tap into my inner diva, but I was thankful no one could hear me except Bienville, who hopped up on the counter to listen to the free concert.
He didn’t stay long. I didn’t take it personally.
Chapter 4
Always on time, Ashland didn’t disappoint. He arrived just when he said he would. But I didn’t run out of the house like a teenager when he pulled up. I let him come upstairs first. I’d learned a thing or two from Calpurnia—ladies didn’t run down the stairs and jump in cars or carriages. I was glad that Ashland had the manners of a true southern gentleman. I peeped at him as he walked up the stairs. I loved the color of his hair and how soft it looked. Make no mistake, though. Ashland wasn’t anything but manly. I recognized his blue linen shirt, and my mind wandered back to that hot, sticky day when we walked to the mausoleum. The color matched his eyes, and I loved that shade on him. He wore casual khakis and a copper and leather bracelet. I was glad we were on the same wavelength as far as the dress code. I think I got this outfit right.
After he knocked politely, I opened the door, welcoming him with a smile. “You look great,” he said, smiling appreciatively. “But then, you always do.”
“Thanks, Ashland. Come on, Bienville. You can’t stay in here by yourself. I don’t know what you’ll get into.” The orange tabby flopped down beside me in a sign of protest. “No, I’m sorry. Those are the rules. No kitty home alone here.” I scooped him up and carried him outside. Ashland locked the apartment for me, and I set Bienville free to play with his brother.
Ashland took my hand and led me down the wooden stairs into the warm afternoon. His hand felt warm and comforting. I hadn’t realized how much I liked holding hands until I met him. We exchanged a few small smiles as we made our way to his car. He opened the car door for me, and I hopped in as elegantly as I could. Ashland took the wheel, and soon we were driving to the southernmost part of Mobile County.
He grinned at me. “Well, history lover, you will find the island fascinating. I know I do. The rumors are that DeSoto explored the area sometime around 1540, but it was the French that officially claimed the island in 1699. It’s much smaller than it was once—it is a barrier island, but there’s still some of the original topography left. A half dozen hurricanes have changed the island’s shape several times, and pirates even razed it in the 1700s, but it’s still a beautiful place. Serene, with sandy white beaches.”
“Sounds like my kind of place. Do you come down here often?”
“Honestly, not as much as I used to. My mother and I used to stay at an East End beach house every year for a month or so. We’d come down, dig around for shells, visit the mounds, snack on shrimp. Those were nice summers. I didn’t come back after she passed, not right away anyway. When I was a teen, I spent most of my beach time at Gulf Shores. That’s where all the action is—lots of clubs and restaurants and girls in bikinis.” He grinned at me, blushing slightly. “Dauphin Island is much more laid back than the panhandle beaches. No big buildings except for a condo or two, and definitely no teen clubs.”
“Sounds like heaven. I was never one to frequent teen clubs.” I laughed at the idea. My ultra-religious mother would have never gone for that. “Thanks for giving me the island tour. Dauphin Island sounds like an intriguing place to visit. I admit that I haven’t been a very good tourist, but I love Mobile. It’s a friendly place. Good vibes here. Mostly,” I added quickly.
“That’s good to hear. I was afraid that you’d be ready to leave as soon as you could.” The concern in his voice sounded genuine. I hated to hear that he had doubts about my fortitude; honestly, I hadn’t even thought about leaving Mobile or Seven Sisters. But then again, I wasn’t your average girl.
“I have no plans to leave, Ashland. I’m still committed to finding Calpurnia. Aren’t you?”
His handsome face relaxed a bit, and he gave me a wistful smile as we crossed the bridge that would take us to the island. “More than ever. I’m happy to hear that. I was hoping Terrence Dale would change his mind and stick around, but I’m afraid he’s not going to. He won’t say it, but I know it’s about our garden visitor. I don’t blame him, but he’s the best contractor in Mobile—actually, the best contractor on the entire Gulf Coast as far as I’m concerned, and they aren’t in short supply around here. Losing TD is going to put us behind on the opening at the very least.”
“Maybe we could talk to him, together. Try to explain what happened. Well, not explain it…I mean, who could explain that? But maybe start a conversation about it.” I gave him a nervous smile. It couldn’t hurt, could it? It hadn’t seemed right to force TD to talk to me, but now I guessed we had to. Ashland had every reason to be concerned, and we couldn’t lose him if we could avoid it. He knew so much about the house and
preservation, and besides, I liked him.
“Let’s do that. I think with any luck, Detra Ann will help us.” Ashland turned right on Bienville Boulevard, the island’s main road, and I couldn’t help but stare at my surroundings.
Dauphin Island had lots of pines and a few hearty palm trees. I’d been to Pensacola Beach once; it was nothing like this place. Despite the scattered beach houses and the massive water tank that greeted us as we drove onto the island, it had a sense of wildness. Yes, lots of history had happened here. I could feel that. What had those first settlers thought when they walked the beaches for the first time? We drove past a few seafood shops, more beach houses and a few duplexes. I spotted the wooden sign that announced the public beach. We drove down Bienville Boulevard to the West End.
“The public beach isn’t as nice as the West End Beach. Won’t take but a few minutes to get there—just in time for the sunset.” Ashland smiled at me, his hair catching the fading sunshine like a golden halo. “You’ll notice that there’s no cell signal out here on this end of the island. Not much of anything except a long stretch of beach.”
“So I’m going to be sitting on a beach watching the sunset with a handsome man and with no cell phones to interrupt us? Sounds perfect.” I wasn’t too good at flirting, but I must have done it right. It gave me butterflies to see him blush. A few minutes later, we pulled into a small parking lot; there were only two other cars there, but there was plenty of evidence the beach had been busy earlier. An abandoned floatie lay in the sand, tire tracks were everywhere and a lone lifeguard was closing his shack for the day. “You folks stay out of the water. Rip current this afternoon,” the young man called to us.
“No problem. We don’t plan on swimming,” Ashland called back to him, giving him a friendly wave. He walked to his trunk, popped it open and took out a comfy-looking blanket, presumably for us to sit on as we enjoyed the scenery. Sunset was only minutes away now. We wore shades, but I had fun imagining his sexy blue eyes behind those stylish frames.
I slid off my shoes and enjoyed the warmth of the sand under my feet. It must have been a scorcher in the afternoon, but the evening ocean breeze cooled everything down. Happy with the spot he found, Ashland awkwardly spread out the blanket. I helped, and soon we settled down to enjoy nature’s display.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to take the Happy Go Lucky out. I bet sunsets from the boat are real showstoppers.”
“Yes, they are, but we wouldn’t have had time today. I hope this is okay?”
I slid my arm through his and inched a little closer. “This is perfect.”
Ashland leaned in, his lips almost touching mine. I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses, preparing for a kiss that didn’t come. Then I opened them again and found him looking at me with a confident smile. He’d removed his sunglasses and was sliding mine up to the top of my head.
“I want to see your lovely green eyes. I love those eyes, Carrie Jo. May I kiss you now?” I nodded, and our lips met softly. His hand cupped my chin, and his thumb rubbed my jaw. I leaned even closer and curled my arms around his waist. He held me after I pulled away gently, and we stayed like that for a few seconds before he whispered, “Look at that.” I turned to see the orange sun low on the horizon, seeming to dip into the ocean. The dimming orb left traces of red and gold in the sky. A few clouds lingered on the horizon, black and purple against the fading brightness.
“Wow, that’s amazing. Thank you for this. I needed this moment.” I squeezed his hand, wanting to kiss him again. I liked kissing him, that was for sure, but I had to keep it together. Too late for that, CJ. You’ve already kissed him a half dozen times. Why stop now? It had been so long since I’d been intimate with someone, and I found the temptation to succumb to my own needs difficult to resist. And the longer we sat there, the harder it was. Even if his intentions were as pure as the driven snow, mine weren’t. I’d always prided myself on being a “head over heart” kind of girl, but what I felt for Ashland was unlike anything I’d felt before. I couldn’t explain it.
Slowly, we leaned back on the blanket, his arms around me. I could hear the waves crashing nearby, but my thoughts were completely on the man beside me. I never dreamed I’d be lying on a blanket at the beach with Ashland. Who was in control of my life?
My hands ran instinctively up and down his arms…I loved the feeling of his muscular body. We kissed more deeply, and my hands curled in his hair. When I heard him murmur my name in my ear, the electricity was palpable. Oh my God, I can’t do this! I pushed away gently—I had to catch my breath. His blue eyes were intense and full of passion. I felt the same way, but we couldn’t do this here, not now. I leaned back on the blanket and closed my eyes. I felt Ashland lie down beside me. If we lingered on the beach much longer the sky would be full of stars.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“Stop apologizing for everything. You didn’t force me to kiss you.” I punched his arm playfully and sat up, looking down at him.
He reached up and touched my hair, twisting a long strand around his finger. “You make me crazy, Carrie Jo. What am I going to do about you?”
“I guess you’ll just have to love me.” Oh my God, I just said love. Get me out of here. I stood up and pretended to dust sand off, avoiding looking at his face. “Why don’t we take a little walk? I could use the exercise. Let me help you with that blanket.” He seemed surprised but got the hint; I helped him fold it, and we strolled down the beach toward the very tip of the island.
“So how are you doing? We talked about TD, but what about you? We haven’t talked much since that night in the garden.” A sensible change of topic was in order.
He stuffed the blanket under his arm and slung his hands in his pockets as we walked. “Carrie Jo, you know I have never been a fan of the supernatural, but what happened with us in the garden made me a believer. I guess I haven’t wanted to talk about it because I didn’t know what to say. I saw Isla with my own two eyes, felt the wind ripping through the trees. We even found the family treasure, but admitting the reality of it all has been extremely difficult. That might make me sound stupid, but it’s the truth.” As we walked on a little more, I breathed in the ocean scent and savored being here with Ashland. “It didn’t seem to faze you at all. I mean you acted like you knew exactly what was happening and how to handle it. How do you live with your…well, for lack of a better word, your powers?”
“Are you kidding me?” I gave him a wide-eyed stare. “That was the scariest thing that ever happened to me. Everything I did—I played all that by ear. I have no experience with ghosts at all. Except in my dreams, and normally they don’t try to hurt me.” Except that time Jeremiah Cottonwood left a welt on my leg. “Not to mention, I think we had help. Remember, Henri said that Calpurnia and Muncie were there too.”
“And you believe him?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Henri has nothing to lose or gain by telling us what he saw.” I chewed on the inside of my lip. “I hope he’s okay. I mean, I pray that she left him alone.”
“Me too.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Ashland. Are you okay?” We had walked a long stretch down the beach, and the sand felt a bit cooler. He took my hand and we began to walk back to the car.
“I have to be. I’m Ashland Stuart, former football star and heir to the Stuart fortune, which is substantially more now than it was six months ago, thanks to you.” He grimaced. “Am I okay? I’m sleeping again now and not jumping at every noise I hear, but something else has happened to me.”
I froze in my tracks, curious to hear more. “What is happening?”
“I am remembering things, things from my childhood. Things I don’t want to remember. I sound like a basket case, huh?”
“Hardly a basket case, Ashland. You have a long way to go before I check you in somewhere. Oh, sorry.” The look on his face reminded me that this kind of talk was no laughing matter. In some ways, Ashland and I were more alike than I
had first believed, at least concerning our families. “What do you mean, remembering?”
“I’ve been accused of having an active imagination, at least when I was a kid. Mostly by my cousin Robert, who passed on his loathing for the supernatural to me, but it wasn’t always like that. I swear, and this is the crazy part, I remember that I saw Calpurnia. I’d forgotten all about her, but I did see her once. It was during those days in the garden, the Rose Garden. I always hated going into the Moonlight Garden, and now I know why, but it was different in the Rose Garden.”
“Did she say anything to you? You weren’t afraid, were you?”
“No, she didn’t say anything. To be honest, she didn’t seem to notice me at first.”
“Really?” I put my hand on his arm. “What happened?”
“Mother was trying to prune some of the rose bushes, and I was sitting on the grass by a concrete bench reading a book. I didn’t notice the visitor at first, but I kind of felt the air shift and knew someone else was there. I looked up, and standing a few feet away was a young woman, very slender and tall, with an elegant hairstyle on top of her head. She knelt down beside me to peek at what I was reading. I know now that was Calpurnia. I mean, I’ve seen her picture before in the brochures, but I never put two and two together. At least not until recently. I clearly remember that she smiled at me, and I wasn’t afraid at all so I smiled back. She showed me her book: it was small, a little larger than her hand, and it had a leather cover. When she opened it to show me what was inside, it wasn’t a regular book, just a bunch of folded notes tied together with a purple ribbon. I guess she wanted me to see that she was reading too.”
We started walking again. I whispered, “I’ve seen that book before, I think. Did it have an engraving on the cover—a bird sitting on a branch?”
He thought for a minute. “Yes, I believe it did, right in the center of the cover. Do you know what book it was?”
The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection Page 25