by Lynne, Loni
Fire leapt from the poker Henry waved, trying to attack him, catching the ends of the filmy window sheers. The pristine room would be an inferno in seconds. James was racing against time.
“Virginia,” he said, hoping for a connection. “It’s me James. I need you to get April out of here. Tell her I love her and I will find a way to be with her again. Now go!” James said with flat finality.
Virginia nodded, her eyes widening with realization. Her face clouded with anguish. James heard the wailing of more sirens in the distance. She needed to get out.
“Go now, Virginia. Get April to safety.”
The fire spread into the hallway. He could hear April banging on the door, pleading and crying for him and her mother as the flames leapt dangerously close.
James made sure Virginia got out and waited until he saw her push April towards the stairs.
“Go April, I’m right behind you!” he heard Virginia yell over the sounds of screeching wood.
“James! Where is James?” April cried out, trying to fight her mother’s manipulations.
“April go!” James shouted as his body was held back, snagged by some unknown force. The momentum of being pulled back turned him around. Henry’s beefy face was mere inches from his own. James felt the force of Henry’s fist strike across the jaw. Sprawling on the floor at the top of the stairs, he didn’t have enough energy to right himself.
Fire fighters ran up the stairs, passed through his and Henry’s souls on the way to Virginia’s room. They were looking for him. He’d heard April’s desperate cries as she’d called out his name while her mother had dragged her to safety. Not seeing anyone else in the rooms, the firefighters called ‘all clear’ and evacuated the house.
Heavy sprays of water flooded the remaining structure from the various hoses, but James paid no heed. It didn’t matter.
“You blue-blooded bastard! I thought I had gotten rid of you once. Well now we are on equal ground. Welcome to Hell!” Henry spat out, yanking James up by his collar.
James feigned defeat until he was level with Henry. Pulling his fist back, he landed a right hook to Henry’s nose, sending the older man reeling back. Yeah, they were on equal ground. It was Hell all right. Two ghosts fighting in a raging fire neither one felt.
Struggling to regain his footing, James weakened even further. Was this it? Was this him finally moving on? Why now! Why hadn’t it happened sooner—or later? What piece of the puzzle was finally in place for him to leave this Earth completely? Henry ran at him and grabbed him around the middle, pinning him up against the burning wall behind them.
“Because of your lady-friend, my historical bearing in Kings Mill is going to be questioned. She made Catherine work against me. I wanted your mill and I would have had it, too. Now, I will be the laughing stock—” Henry stopped and looked to his left. His eyes rounded.
James looked, too. There, a few feet away was the image of Catherine. Her pristine figure stood straight and tall. With her shoulders back, she glared at Henry.
“Remember me, dear husband?”
“Catherine! It was you! You killed me!” Henry bellowed at the ghost.
“No. I would have if I had the same courage Dr. Branford showed me. No, it was your own fear of seeing my ghost that sent you tumbling down those stairs all those years ago. Don’t go blaming anyone but yourself, Henry. You did this. It was because of you we’ve all been trapped for so long. Dr. Branford has shown me I can move past my fear of you to move on to a better life.”
Henry let James go and stalked towards the figure of his wife. “I’ll never let you move on. You belong to me, Catherine!”
Fear and uncertainty clouded Catherine’s delicate face. James didn’t want to see her fear anymore. She deserved to move on, too. Henry was such a bastard! James jumped the man from behind but sifted right through Henry’s soul. Lying on the floor, covered with flames, he stared at his own vanishing form. He wasn’t even able to see all of himself now.
But the distraction was all Catherine needed to move out of the way. Henry lurched forward, and screaming in agony, tumbled head first down the staircase, landing with a sickening thud at the base of the stairs in a hellish inferno.
“Catherine—” he found the last dregs of energy to stand up among the fire and burning embers, but there was nothing left of his form, only a sense of being.
“It’s all right, James. Henry is where he needs to be now. I can move on. Thank April for me.” She smiled.
It was becoming more difficult to see and function. The image of the fire was dying around him, being replaced by white, sterile walls and a bright light shining in his face. Catherine’s image faded into the background. “I can’t. I’m gone. I’ll never see April again.” His voice came out in a strangled sob.
He heard Catherine’s faint, tinkling laughter. Why was she laughing at his peril?
“What? I thought you believed in fate? This isn’t death, James…it’s just the beginning of your new life.”
Was she mocking him? Damn! His head hurt. Why did his head hurt? He shouldn’t feel any pain. He was dead. Brightness surrounded him. Was this the light he was supposed to move into? Images faded into the light. He was no longer in the burning house. Had April and her mother gotten out safely? Where was Catherine? A figure moved towards him into the brightness surrounding them both. A man’s figure—but it wasn’t Henry. This man was taller, leaner. He walked with purpose as he approached and instead of going around James, walked right through him.
What the bloody hell?
His question went unanswered. He heard himself scream as he felt his chest explode from within. Electronic beeps echoed in his head, and then he heard a subtle thumping, like a heartbeat. A group of people with masks over their faces stood around him as the brilliant light faded to a glare of intense artificial light from lamps hanging above his head. One person stared down at him with wide-eyed wonder.
“Doctor, I have a pulse!”
***
Standing at the small pauper’s grave stone, April gave her power one last chance. Kneeling with her hands flat on his tombstone, she focused on finding James’s essence. But like every other day over the past few weeks, nothing happened. No matter what she did she couldn’t bring James back to life. His spirit wasn’t here. Her gift no longer worked. Throwing herself onto his stone she pressed her cheek against the cold, hard marble, letting her tears and anguish take over again.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she feel him anymore? Her heart constricted painfully. Why couldn’t she have died in the fire, too? Where was all the live energy she’d had only weeks ago when she’d met him? The only time she felt any connection to the past was when she read Catherine’s journal. But those memories brought on heartache all over again. She couldn’t even find Catherine anymore. There were no more ghostly visions, no more haunted house, nothing to connect to.
The fire inspector had claimed faulty wiring as the cause of the fire. But she knew differently. It was the ghost of Henry Samuel who’d started it. He’d been trying to get to Catherine and kill her spirit. She’d angered him by revealing his secrets at the festivities. Aunt Vickie was able to discern at least a portion of information when she’d studied the remains from the fire. She’d sensed Catherine was no longer there and Henry was where he needed to be.
Thanksgiving had come and gone. Beth invited her entire family over for dinner before April’s mom went back home to her condo in Rockville. Grandma Dottie invited Aunt Vickie to stay with her in her riverfront home in Annapolis. April was staying with Beth until she could figure out what to do next. The Kings Mill historical society was going through many changes, and Beth needed an extra hand, desperately. There was so much left to do. Too much for one person to get the new historical society opened by the first of the year. Beth hired her on to help record information and make final preparations.
Working at the Historical Society was the only thing keeping April from feeling empty. The remaining ledgers
they’d found in the crates of historical documents belonged to Henry Samuel. They were exactly as Catherine stated the night of the festival—the truth was in the numbers, or lack thereof, as the case ended up being. Henry’s funds had dwindled in games of chance and risky investing. The only way he could have gotten the land was by stealing it, or doing what he’d done to James and others over the years.
But some good came from her research. Catherine’s journal was a font of information. Catherine had given birth to a child who’d lived. As Beth researched indentured files in the southern counties of Maryland, she realized she may have been a descendant of Catherine and Daniel’s child. The connection made perfect sense to Dr. Freelane, and she took the knowledge as gospel.
Beth now had a new historical subject to research. Catherine’s plight as an indentured servant had inspired Dr. Freelane to begin documenting the lives of early colonial servants along the Chesapeake. April hoped to be able to shed more light for her through the journal but there wasn’t much to go on. Still, Beth hoped to one day have the opportunity to meet the ghost of Catherine Samuel personally. April didn’t hold out much hope. She was sure all her ghosts had moved on.
April dried her tears on her already tear-soaked knit gloves wadded up in her hands. Kissing her fingers with trembling lips, she placed the tips to James’s stone. Sighing, she knew it was a lost cause to try and hope for James to return to her. But hope was all she had. And lately, it was diminishing. Looking up she realized the sky had turned overcast while she was here. Like my soul? Now huge snowflakes the size of breadcrumbs began to fall. Reluctantly, she turned away and walked back to the office.
“It’s about time you showed up!” Dr. Moreland greeted her as she walked into the Historical Society, shaking snow from her cap and coat before hanging them on the coat rack.
“Dr. Moreland,” April replied with a brief smile.
“You do know we are on equal terms now. You can call me, Bob.”
“Old habits.” She shrugged. “It’s good to see you. What brings you to Kings Mill?”
They’d spoken only briefly since he’d called her with the news of Kenneth Miles’s accident. He’d called upon hearing from one of Mr. Miles’s representatives that Kenneth would be postponing his trip until a later time. Well, yeah. The man had suffered severe head trauma and had been pronounced dead during an emergency operation. April didn’t think he would be very active in such a short amount of time.
In the past few weeks, the news followed the medical reports of his miraculous return. Even the doctors were stunned at the rapid rate of his recovery, saying it was Kenneth’s own determination moving him on. All April knew was she’d seen his stocks fish-flop due to the uncertainty of his health. The media reported the NYSE had his secretary and account reps on speed dial.
Dr. Moreland placed a finger to his lips. “I have some exciting news, but I wanted to wait for Beth before I announced it. She’s coming down in a minute.”
Beth walked down the stairs and made an entrance. And what an entrance she made. Her normal neutral business attire was replaced with a pair of casual, flowing black slacks, a deep teal silk blouse, and waterfall-style sweater. This accented the silver blonde crop of hair she’d styled recently into a short, pixie cut framing her long, narrow face beautifully. April raised her brow in amazed appreciation. The look Bob gave her and the slight blush Beth returned told April all she needed to know. Something was going on between the two. More than just a visit from a professional colleague was accounting for the ‘new look.’
“So what’s the news?” April asked, eager to find out why Bob was so excited about sharing news he’d waited this long to tell them. She could see by the way Beth was dressed they had plans for later. Dinner maybe? She felt bad for not knowing what was going on in Beth’s life. She’d been so wrapped up with her own. Still, all she wanted to do was return to her desk and finish her work today, before she left for her small bedroom to face another night without James. She wasn’t the best company lately. Gee, I wonder why!
“Sit down. This news is so big, you’ve got to be sitting to hear it,” Robert Moreland gushed in excitement. He was not typically a gusher, so unless he’d found the Holy Grail, unearthed Atlantis, or located the Fountain of Youth there wouldn’t be much for him to be excited about.
“Kings Mill Historical Society is getting a million dollar donation!”
She and Beth looked at the man as if he’d just grown another head and replied simultaneously, “Get outta town!” and “You’re full of crap!”
“Nope.” Bob reached into his breast pocket with a grin on his face and pulled out a folded piece of letterhead. “Guess who it’s from?”
“Bill Gates? He would be one of the only ones who might be able to,” April said with jaundiced surprise, getting an eye roll from Bob. “I give up, who?”
“None other than Kenneth Miles, and he’s coming to present it himself next week.”
“Miles is making his grand entrance back into society in Kings Mill, Maryland?” Beth gasped.
“Read it for yourselves. I received this letter yesterday and called to confirm. I talked with his secretary this morning.” Unfolding it, he handed it to Beth. “It’s real.”
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Beth read the paper thoroughly, as color drained her cheeks. She gasped. “April, we have a million dollar grant to make plans for.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
James Addison stood in front of a full-length mirror, primped and prepared to meet the public for the first time since the accident. He smoothed back his short, dark hair, much shorter than he ever wore it, but a more professional style according to the latest in men’s fashion.
It had all been a bit convoluted, coming out of a near death experience and awakening in a stranger’s body. But then, he’d been without a body for a long time. It wasn’t until he’d met April Branford that he’d felt whole again. His heart thudded excitedly in his chest. He would see her today. After nearly a month of recovery, he’d be with her again. It was the ability to see her that put him in the frame of mind to recover as quickly as he did.
“Your car is waiting, Mr. Miles.”
“Thank you, Peter.” He turned to his assistant Drew, who was taking a small lint brush to his suit coat still hanging on the hook. “Is everything in my briefcase?”
“Yes sir. I have the check and blueprints for the proposal to the site in there.” Drew came around with his coat and carefully helped him into it, taking care of his healing body.
Some days the aches and pains from the injuries of the car accident slowed him down. He didn’t want today to be one of those days.
“Good.” James grabbed the classic, silver-tipped walking stick he’d purchased to replace the cane the hospital had provided. His leg was still not healed completely, but a few more months of physical therapy should suffice.
“You need to take it easy while here, sir,” Drew commented. “The doctor didn’t think you should’ve taken this trip.”
“Are you judging my decisions, Drew?” He adjusted the collar on his coat and pulled at his sleeves to keep everything from bunching. “I need to be here. I owe it to Kings Mill and Dr. Branford for her research.”
He did. Not as James Addison, but as Kenneth Miles. He owed more to April Branford than he could ever repay with his millions. It was still difficult at times to distinguish between who he was and who he had been. He was James Addison. All of his memories were of James Addison, from his time in the 1700’s to his brief encounter with the present shared with April.
But a great part of him was still Kenneth Miles. It was as if he were both men in one body. It had taken him time to come to terms with what had happened. But he knew that fate had played her role. In a time when James Addison was due to finally move on, his descendant was scheduled to die. Perhaps it was meant to be—perhaps it was coincidence. But the timing of the souls merging into one man’s body couldn’t have been planned by anyone but fate. Weren’t th
ose the last words Catherine had said to him?
The limo awaited him outside the hotel. It was the same hotel he’d shared with April the night when Henry had angrily forced them out of the house. He swore they would share one of the suites again soon and continue where they’d left off.
They passed by Lilac Grove Cemetery on the way into downtown Kings Mill. It was Kenneth’s first time here, but James felt as if it were only yesterday that he’d been walking the streets aimlessly, searching for the truth and someone to give a damn. He’d found it all in one woman. His heart quickened and he took a deep breath to calm the excitement coursing through him. It wouldn’t be long now. The driver pulled up to the side of the courthouse and James looked out at the grounds.
A small group of reporters from Washington D.C. and Baltimore, along with CNN, Fox, CSPAN, and other national and international media were in attendance, their vans parked in various areas blocking the daily traffic. It was to be expected. This was Kenneth Miles’s first appearance in public since the accident and a rare appearance in general. Whereas after centuries alone, James enjoyed greeting people, Kenneth abhorred the masses.
Peter opened the door for him, helping him out as Drew handled the crowds gathering at breakneck speed, wanting the first glimpse and exclusives. James buttoned his long wool overcoat around him. Peter held a black umbrella over his head as a light sifting of snow began to fall.
“I want to take a minute to check something out, Peter.” James walked without a response from the man as he went in the opposite direction from the crowds of reporters.
Aunt Vickie’s house had been behind the county building. He’d walked these streets the first night meeting April, taking her home. He turned the corner to see the skeletal remains of what had once been a historical, stately home. Now it was just a pile of rubble and memories with the woman he loved. A small yellow earthmover and bulldozer stood silent sentry around the taped off area. Charred support beams and brick chimneys were all that remained. “Sir?”