The Ultimate Seven Sisters Collection

by M. L. Bullock

  “William, stay with me. Okay? Stay with me!” I pulled off my shirt and pressed it against the wound on his back, trying to stop the bleeding. With shaking fingers I dialed 9-1-1 and gave our information. “William, I have to go unlock the door. You stay awake and hold this phone. Hold this phone, and don’t you dare go to sleep! You got it?”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  I raced to the door, disarming the alarm and unlocking the bolt. I left the door wide open and ran back. Nothing to fear now; the evil that had chased me was now dead in a heap on the floor. Mia’s eyes stared into nothingness. I knew she was dead, I could feel it.

  “William! William Bettencourt! Don’t you dare go to sleep! I’m here. I’m with you!” I wanted to cry, to scream for help, but I knew help was on the way. I feared it would be too late.

  “Carrie Jo, I’m sorry. I tried to help. Everything I do is wrong.”

  “Stop talking. You need to be quiet. Listen, the sirens are getting closer. Can you hear them?”

  “I love you, Carrie Jo. I always have.”

  “I know, William. I love you too. It’s all going to be all right. You’ll see.”

  William smiled, and his eyes blinked and lowered—the smile still on his face.

  “No, no. William, please don’t leave me.” I began to cry, I held his head in my lap and smoothed his dark curls. I watched as his life slipped away from him. What do I do now?

  Suddenly, in a rush of activity, an emergency team was in the room, pulling me away from him. They worked on William for a minute, then hastily transported him to the ambulance. Someone handed me a jacket, and I remembered I was wearing only a bra. My bloody shirt lay wadded on the floor. Another team worked at reviving Mia, but to no avail. She was gone. Dead right here in the room where she herself killed Hollis Matthews.

  I sat on the floor, unsure of what to do. Go with William? No, he was gone now. I could hear the sirens wailing down the driveway taking him to the hospital. I looked up to find Detective Simmons staring at me.

  “So we meet again. What is it about this house, Miss Jardine? Or maybe it’s not the house but something else.” She squatted down beside me.

  I knew what she meant, but she was wrong. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t the house, either. It was the past—it was a bevy of spirits struggling toward their desired destinies even beyond life’s allowance of years. But I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t bother.

  I stood up. “I’m going to the hospital with my friend. We’ll talk later, or you can follow me there.”

  I walked out of Seven Sisters for the last time.

  I would never return to the house. It had taken too much from me. Too much had been lost. How they had all struggled against it, Christine, Louis, Calpurnia—even Ann-Sheila. In my own time, Hollis, Mia, William, and TD. I had done all I could do to prevent those old spirits from forcing their way into our lives, but they had done just that.

  From now on, I would no longer welcome the past into my world. I would do my best to shut it out, to refuse it access. I could no longer give my life away just to peer into theirs. Ashland had been right. This had been a bad idea, and now William had paid for my foolishness.

  I was done with dreaming. Or so I thought.

  Epilogue

  Before my mind knew what I was doing, my heart had plunged me into the cold river. We’d had a cool snap recently, and the chill had settled in the water. I dove into the dark water, praying all the way. I saw her frail body crash into the black, her bright dress sink below the water, the weight of it pulling her down, down, down to her death. I rose once to breathe and could hear people on the boat shouting, but I didn’t care. I dove down deeper, struggling against the current. It ran strong and fierce tonight, although you’d never see that from the surface.

  I came up for air once more, then dove again, this time following the current. Thank goodness the stars shone bright and the moon glowed that night or I would have never seen her. She hung in the water like a magical hovering creature, still and unmoving. Her body traveled past the boat almost to the other shore. I swam to her, ignoring everything else—all my fears of snakes and gators. I surfaced once more for air, glanced at the boat and saw Mr. Ball pointing into the water.

  I dove again and grabbed Calpurnia by her narrow waist and hoisted her to the surface. The gown indeed weighed her down but there was nothing for it. I struggled with all my might to get her to safety. Behind me there were a half-dozen splashes in the water, but I didn’t look back at a single one of them. I swam to the shore and shoved her onto the muddy banks. There were no lights here, nothing to help me see her, but I laid her on her back. She wasn’t breathing, and her face was white as a sun-beaten sheet.

  I shook her and said her name over and over. She didn’t speak or move or flutter an eyelash. I remembered seeing this before, so I turned her on her side and patted her back to ease the water out of her. At first nothing happened, but then I heard a strangling sound and Callie began to retch river water out of her body. “Oh, thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord.”

  I continued to pat her until she had spewed up all the water. I heard a horse approach, and my mind said, “Run!” but my aching body could not comply. The horse came to a stop, and I looked up at the rider walking towards us. It was Reginald Ball, the gentleman who had painted Calpurnia last spring. He squatted down beside her and lifted her up.

  “Are you alive, Miss Cottonwood?”

  She nodded, coughing some more but never speaking.

  “That was a very foolish thing to do. Very foolish indeed, but there is nothing to be done now. We must…um…I know where we can go. Muncie, can you walk? I don’t think the three of us will fit on my horse.”

  “Yes, sir. I can run if I have to.”

  “You may have to because I can hear the dogs now. Let’s go to my camp and get her tended to. Help me put her on my horse.”

  We lifted her together, but she still didn’t speak to us. Finally, Calpurnia was atop the horse, with Mr. Ball holding her. I did as I was told, running after them in wet shoes. We traveled about two miles into the woods to a small cabin. I was never so glad to see a place as I was now.

  “This your place, Mister?”

  “Yes, no one will bother us here. Help me lift her. That’s it. Thank you.” I took her in my arms and carried her into the camp house. I laid her on the bed, and Mr. Ball fussed about lighting a lamp, finding blankets, patting her hair dry. He tried again to talk to her, but she wouldn’t respond. I wasn’t sure she could see us; her eyes looked as if she could see something we couldn’t, something faraway and sad.

  “Please, Miss. Talk to me.” She said nothing. Once in a while her eyes would look at mine, but she didn’t see me. Or anything, not the dirty lamp, not her rustic surroundings.

  She never spoke. Not that day or the next. Mr. Ball left us alone that night and one more but returned the day after with food, water and some money. He looked worried and tired. I quietly repented for everything I had previously thought about him. He had proven to be another true friend and a good man. It was nice to know that Calpurnia had two people who cared about her.

  “Everyone is looking for Miss Cottonwood, but I haven’t the heart to send her back to her father. If anyone knew that I have aided her or helped a runaway slave, I would be in jail. Yet, I cannot sentence her to die. He would kill her if she returned after shaming him in such a way. Poor girl. I think I can make him see reason eventually, but it will take some time. We need to find a place for her, far away from here.”

  “What do you mean shame him? She would never do such a thing.”

  He nodded at me to follow him to the other room. “Apparently she threw herself at the captain. She wanted to marry him, but he was already entertaining another lady. So heartbroken was she that she ran slap off the boat and into the water. Poor girl. I always knew that man was a dishonest sort of fellow. And after all that she’s been through already. How I wish she had married me when her mother was still alive.�
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  “But he was to marry her. That was the plan. Can’t she marry you now? She’s a good girl, and you could protect her.”

  “Look at her, Muncie. She’s in no condition to marry anyone. And as I said before, her father is in no mood to entertain new suitors, or anyone at all for that matter. He’s as furious as I have ever seen. And the captain, Mr. Cottonwood beat him within an inch of his life. It was a sight to see, and how the cousin wailed. I wonder if I should talk to the sheriff and ask him to intervene on Miss Calpurnia’s behalf. This has all been a mistake, a ruse played on her, obviously for Garrett to lay his hands upon her fortunes. Oh, how foolish! I tried to warn her, but she wouldn’t listen. Still, Mr. Cottonwood cannot be allowed to harm her.”

  “No! You can’t call on the sheriff. He’s not a friend. He punished Ann-Sheila, did things to her that no man should do to a woman. No, please, we cannot call the sheriff.” Then I did something I never did. I reached out and took his hands, squeezing them. “Please.” He didn’t push me away.

  “You’ve been a kind friend to our Calpurnia.” He patted my hand and nodded. “Very well. I will not, but we must think of the way forward. Where could I send her? If she tries to go anywhere now, she’ll be spotted. We’ll have to travel by night, wherever we go.”

  We talked into the night, Calpurnia never moving, not even to relieve herself or take some food. We let her sleep, but I promised myself that I would have her eat that night no matter what.

  It was decided that Calpurnia and I would travel by ship somewhere, the destination to be chosen another time. She had to get well before we could take her anywhere. A black man, a slave, couldn’t go around carrying a white woman in public. She would have to walk and talk and be sensible. “In the meantime, keep her warm and comfortable. Get her to eat.” Mr. Ball rose from the wooden table and smiled at me. “It’s going to be all right, dear boy. We shall get through this. I still think I should notify the authorities, just to be on the safe side.”

  “No! You can’t! The sheriff is a friend of Mr. Cottonwood, and he won’t care if he kills her. Don’t do it, Mr. Ball, please.” He looked less sure of his promise, but there was nothing else I could do to convince him. I could see his commitment wavering.

  “Very well, I shall come visit tomorrow after dark or perhaps the following day. There is plenty of food here and fresh clear water in the spring behind the house.”

  “Thank you. Thank you, Mister.”

  He gave Calpurnia a sad look, put his hat on and walked out. I heard the horse ride away and turned to my friend. I had to break through to her. We couldn’t wait for Mr. Ball to return. We had to leave as soon as we could! I would take her home, to my home. I would be Janjak again. Momma would help us. I know she would. My heart raced in my chest.

  “Callie, Miss…please, wake up.” She stirred a little but never woke. Calm, keep calm, I told myself. Let her rest, and then you will talk. Explain to her everything that has happened, and then run, run for your lives!

  All through the night, I slept on the floor next to the fireplace, but I didn’t dare to start a fire. What if someone saw the smoke? About the time morning cracked the sky, I heard her voice, “Muncie? Where are we?”

  “I’m here, right here. We are in Mr. Ball’s cabin. He has helped us.” I came and sat beside her.

  “Oh, I remember now. Oh, my God. I remember. I think I am going to be sick.” I helped her out of the bed and to the front door. She threw up water and bile, off the side of the porch.

  “I’m okay, I am fine. I can do it.” She walked back inside like a brand new baby calf. I tore a piece of bread from the loaf and handed it to her.

  “This will help you. Eat it.”

  “I don’t want to eat.”

  “You don’t have any choice. We have to leave here and soon because I think Mr. Ball will bring the sheriff here. If you don’t eat, you won’t have the strength to go. And we have to go.”

  “What? He’s going to bring the sheriff? Why? I have done nothing wrong.”

  “I suspect that the law would say otherwise. You are a runaway, and so am I. The whole city of Mobile is looking for us, right now. Mr. Ball is trying to reason with your father, but he’s not having any luck. I think he’s ready to give up, and it’s only been a few days.”

  “What’s he trying to do?” Calpurnia munched on the bread and stared at me.

  “He wants to marry you so he can protect you and I can be free.”

  She stopped in mid-bite and swallowed. “No! I will never marry him nor anyone! No! I have to go!” She tried to leave but began to cry. “I shall never marry. I will die in that house. I know I will.”

  “No, no, you won’t. Listen, you get strong. Eat your food. Tonight, after the sun goes down, we will go to the shipyard ourselves. Maybe I can trade some labor for passage. We can go to Haiti, to my home. I have people that will protect us there. My Momma and her brothers will protect us from harm.”

  “Yes, Muncie. I will eat and we will go, but you don’t have to do labor. I have money, here.” She felt her skirts, locating a hidden pocket and pulling out a purse. With shaking fingers, she opened the purse and dumped the contents onto the small bed. Coins bounced around, and a small book plopped on the ground. It was still damp from the river. I suspected that those pages were ruined now. I reached down and handed it to her. She accepted it and stared at it.

  “You don’t know what this is, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. What is it?”

  “It’s a book of lies. Lies a man told to a stupid girl. I swear to you, Muncie. If there were a fire in that fireplace, I would throw it in there and burn it from my memory. I am not going to die this way.” She flopped on the bed and stared at the empty fireplace. “He never loved me, and I loved a dream. When I opened the door, he was with her. He was naked with her. It had all been a game to them.”

  I knew who she meant without her saying so. I sighed sadly. “Some men don’t deserve happiness, and with her he will never find it. She is no man’s woman but every man’s. She will be the death of him, as she intended this to be for you.”

  She shoved the book into her bag and counted the coins, refusing to say more about it. We huddled in the cabin, hearing the dogs twice. But they never came close, not yet. It would only be a matter of time, though, before they discovered our hiding place. We were like the rabbits, waiting to be eaten. After the sun went down, we traveled through the woods. I knew the way. I knew how to read the moon and the stars and seek them for direction. This I learned from books. After midnight, we could see the port and the lights shimmering from the ships.

  I held her hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, I am ready. Come what may, I am ready.” We stepped onto the shell-covered road and walked toward the Harbormaster’s office. Now was the moment of truth. We would live or we would die, but at least we would be together.

  I woke to the low hum of the airplane’s engine. I sat up and lifted the window shade. As we flew over the vast blue ocean, I wondered when we would make our descent into Haiti. Ashland was rereading the school’s brochure, as he’d done a hundred times already. This was Janjak’s school, or at least it had been founded by him. Now we were going to see it for ourselves, and Ashland had plans to make a sizable gift to the organization. We would walk where Janjak had walked and would at long last see the final resting place of Calpurnia Cottonwood. She’d died on the island, but much later. She’d lived a good life teaching and exploring the islands. Who knows what kind of happiness she found, but at least they were free—both of them.

  “Not dreaming, are you?”

  “I’ll never tell,” I purred, cuddling up to his arm.

  “Then go back to sleep. We have a few more minutes before we land. You didn’t sleep much last night.” He kissed my forehead and leaned back in the seat. Once again I cuddled up next to him and dreamed, but not about the past this time.

  No, this was different. It was bright and warm, this was a dream about
the future—my future.

  I looked down at my hands and noticed my perfect manicure and an heirloom wedding ring on my finger. I walked through a bright and airy room, hearing the soft cry of a baby, waking up surprised to find himself alone. “Now, now, I hear you, little man.”

  I pulled back the bassinet cover and smiled down at the round-faced baby with big blue eyes. For a moment, I felt them beside me, but I felt no fear. I didn’t need to look. I knew who they were.

  I hoped Calpurnia knew that the curse had been broken and that we were all free now. Free from all the dark shadows of Seven Sisters. We’d given the house to the City of Mobile. It was no longer ours. Our family was free forever.

  I hoped Janjak knew that love, true love, always triumphs and that because of his selfless love, we were all here today, happy and safe and alive.

  “Thank you,” I whispered in my dream as I reached down and gathered my son—our son—in my arms.

  The Stars that Fell

  By M.L. Bullock

  Text copyright © 2015 Monica L. Bullock

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is dedicated to Lula Mae, a true Southern lady—strong, gentle and always believing the best in all those you love.

  Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;

  I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

  —Sarah Williams, 1868

  Prologue

  Mobile, Alabama, 1851

  Hoyt Page never wanted to become a physician, but his family’s good name required him to take up a respectable occupation. Since he loathed the prospect of a lifetime of military service or the pretense of local politics, medicine appeared his only option. To his and his family’s surprise, he excelled at his craft.

  Generally, Hoyt did not care to engage people in conversation unless the topic touched on a subject he held an interest in, like astronomy or pedigree horses. Too many times, he stood awkwardly through sessions of idle chitchat only to excuse himself before he made the unforgivable mistake of yawning. However, people in pain—that was quite another story. Those he could speak with all day, listening to their list of symptoms, offering comfort and wisdom. Hoyt found he had a mile-wide streak of compassion for the sick and infirm. He himself was a healthy man and had been a healthy child, but his concern for the sick was real and nothing he intentionally cultivated. Hoyt was committed to his work and did not mind the midnight calls, the long rides and the bone-aching weariness. Even those terrifying moments when he left a home feeling powerless to heal—yes, even in those moments, he knew he was walking in his unique purpose.