Now he had spoken to her as if he had seen her. No one had ever done that and Lord knew, Millie tried to be heard. With so little effort, this stranger had smiled and asked her a question. She sat against the wall, by the attic window, buried her face in her hands and rocked herself. That’s when the memory took her, drawing her into its sticky web.
Millie felt herself move through time, her consciousness pulled back to 1938. She wasn’t in the refuge of the attic. The smell of lilacs and baby powder perfumed the air around her, and she squeezed her eyes tight against the dainty floral wallpaper that no longer hung in the room she had been transported to.
The forlorn wail that assailed Millie reminded her there would be no way out of this memory; she had to go through it. Resigned to it, she opened her eyes. Her mother knelt beside the bed, hands clasped together in prayer.
Her shoulders quaked with the force of her tears. “Why’d you take my baby, Lord? Haven’t I been good enough? She was a strong girl, but you broke her down so low, she couldn’t stand it.”
Caught in the memory’s spell, Millie rested her cold hands on her mother’s slumped shoulders, just as she had done that day. “I’m here, Ma. Look at me. You were good enough; it was me.”
Her mother pulled her black shawl tight about her, moaning as a fresh wave of tears overtook her, but she stayed there on the floor unmoved. Millie wrapped her arms around her mother to comfort her. The grieving matron shivered violently.
Millie pressed her lips to her mother’s damp cheek then whispered, “Ma, I’m still here beside you. Just turn and look at me. Please don’t cry anymore—I won’t leave.”
Her mother’s hand pressed to the spot Millie had kissed, her eyes darting around the room wildly as she dragged herself up off the floor. “Don’t taunt me, Lord. You took her, but you let me feel her.”
Millie looked around the room, silent tears rolling freely down her own face as she searched for a way to make her mother see, as she had that day they buried her broken physical form. Her gaze rested on the photos lined up on the dresser. She spotted the one of her, dressed all in white, standing in front of the house. Millie reached out and pushed the picture slowly across the dresser. Rather than take the sign for what it was, her mother screamed and ran from the room.
With the bedroom empty and her mother’s continued despair echoing down the hall, Millie felt the familiar rage rise within her. Where had this strength been while she was living, when it might have aided her? But no, she’d been a coward, hadn’t she. Reaching out, she swept the frames off the dresser and screamed out her rage. No one would hear it anyway.
noah made his way up the attic stairs, careful to tread softly. He hadn’t meant to startle her. He had been aware of her that first day while they toured the house. Of course, it was difficult not to be conscious of her when she screamed at their real-estate agent. It was also hard not to laugh. When she started arguing with Claire to buy the house, he knew that it would be safe for them here. She seemed to crave the company.
Now he stood, watching her. She sat with her back to the far wall, hugging her knees to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her head, she rocked back and forth like a frightened child, hiding from a nightmare.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” He held his position at the top of the stairs. “My name is Noah.”
For several minutes, nothing changed, as though she hadn’t heard him. He opened his mouth to try again but stopped when her pale form shuddered and flared like a light bulb flickering before settling back to its initial wattage. She lowered her hands and raised her head, her body rigid as she stopped rocking.
“You can really see me,” she whispered.
Noah inched his way closer to the frightened spirit, his hands raised to show he was harmless. “I smiled directly at you that first day we were here. I assumed you could tell.”
“No one sees me here. No adult ever has.” Her hands shook as she pushed her silver-framed spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “My name is Millie.”
“I’m glad to meet you, Millie.” He held his hand out to her. She stared at it like it would bite her if she touched it.
“That woman you were with, you called her Claire. Can she see me too?” Millie asked.
Noah chose to read between the lines and answer the question he guessed she really meant. “Don’t worry; she didn’t hear what you said.”
Millie slumped forward and let out a sigh in apparent relief.
He sat down a few feet away from her, crossing his legs in front of him. “She also doesn’t know that I can see you or that you’re here.”
Millie leaned forward, and her gray eyes streaked with gold flashed with interest. She was beautiful. Her lack of modern makeup did nothing to lessen that effect, and she seemed completely unaware of it. Sweeping her chin-length wheat-blonde hair back behind her ears, she licked her lips and pressed them together.
“How is it that you can see me?” Millie asked tentatively.
He shrugged. “I’ve always been able to. As a kid, my dad would get angry because I used to talk to ‘invisible friends’. Mom understood that I didn’t make it up because she saw spirits too. She explained that I couldn’t do it in front of other people because they wouldn’t understand.”
“Do you mind that I’m here?” Millie began to fidget with the hem of her skirt. “You’re not going to try to make me leave are you?” She gazed up at him through dark lashes that fluttered like delicate butterflies as she asked.
He didn’t want to force her from her home; she had been part of the attraction to buy the property. He loved Claire, but there was something about a conversation with a piece of the past that his fiancée couldn’t match. Millie might want to go. If that were the case, he would help her. She may never get this chance again. “Do you want to leave?”
Millie shook her head slowly. “No, and I’m not sure that I could go.”
This piqued Noah’s curiosity. “What makes you think that?”
She looked away. Her chin trembled with suppressed emotion, and her translucent cheeks brightened in a rosy glow. This little spirit presented a puzzle. Did she blush from shame rather than shyness? Skittish as she was, this was not the time to press her.
“I…” Mille hesitated, took a deep breath and whispered, “I took my own life. I don’t think—maybe they won’t let me into heaven. I woke up here and never left.”
Noah’s smile faltered. He reached out a hand to reassure her but stopped short. Surprise didn’t cover his feelings. Maybe honor might. It was a privilege that she would divulge something so personal, and he had forgotten himself. Words felt like an inadequate compensation to him for such a confession.
“It’s okay,” he said at last. “You don’t have to talk about it. And I’m not going to make you leave. We’ll keep each other company.”
millie peered up into Noah’s kind blue eyes, which reminded her of a cloudless summer sky with their brightness. They held her gaze, steadying her frazzled nerves. He wanted her company too. Such an idea never occurred to her, but she was glad of it.
“Would you like to watch TV while I unpack the living room boxes? You have seen television right?” Noah asked.
She liked Noah’s smile, the way it turned up the corners of his mouth in such an easy way. It was kind like her father’s had been.
She nodded. “I’ve seen it, but it has been a very long time. The previous owner preferred the radio and seldom turned hers on.”
“Well then, you’ve got a lot to catch up on.” He stood and walked to the stairs, watching her over his shoulder. “I think I know just what channel to put on for you.”
She followed him down, keeping a safe distance. Her lonely heart wanted to trust him, to enjoy the first adult conversation she had participated in since she died, but the part of her that suffered at the hands of her husband, Harold, cautioned her against trust. He too had been charming in the beginning.
Millie clung to her focus on the present, t
o Noah. As they made their way down to the front room, she pushed aside the fleeting comparison to Harold. Memories lay like traps throughout the house. All it took was one unguarded thought and high-strung emotions to spring it them into action. The last thing she wanted was to find herself sucked inside of one while she was with Noah. Besides one trip into the past was enough for one evening.
They made it without incident to their goal. Stacks of boxes and oversized furniture dominated the room. The centerpiece of this mess was an overstuffed sofa. Noah gestured for her to sit on the monstrosity. She skirted it reluctantly and then sat on the very edge.
He cast a crooked smile in her direction as he dug into a small box. “Get comfortable. It won’t swallow you.”
Millie scooted back, her hands brushing against the worn leather. She stroked the supple material, soft like a baby’s smooth skin. On reflex, she snapped that inner door closed. That way lay heartbreak and danger.
“Got it.” He held up a slender black device, triumph in his voice. “Found the remote. Now we’re in business.”
He pointed it at the large black screen that dominated the wall between the two windows. Leave it to a man to hang the TV first. Of course, the very idea that you could hang a TV on the wall was a fabulous innovation. How much else had changed in the outside world? She always wondered, and now, Noah was giving her the chance to find out.
“The cable guy was out this afternoon and got us all set up.”
Cable, she turned the word over. Certainly wasn’t something she had ever heard of, at least not in the way Noah must have meant it. He pointed the handheld device at the black panel on the wall, and it flared to life. Her eyes grew round with wonder as pictures of food and scantily clad people began to fly across the screen, counted off by glowing white numbers in the corner.
“You should see your face right now,” Noah laughed. “I thought you’d seen this before?”
Millie nodded absently and leaned towards the images. She had seen TV before, but it hadn’t been this vivid or varied—old Mrs. Roosa had only watched four channels. Here there appeared to be dozens. This was a better window to the world outside then she could have hoped for. She could see places she had only ever imagined in books.
The images came to rest on the scene of a house and four people walking towards it. “What is this about?” Millie asked.
She glanced up at Noah. He stood beside the large screen, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching her. His head tilted to the side as though he considered a riddle. “They help people find a new house and then remodel it.”
“Oh, like you’re doing to my house, right?”
“Yes, exactly.” He set the remote down and moved back to the stack of boxes in the corner. “You’re okay with that, right? I mean you sounded like you didn’t have a problem when you were lecturing my fiancée.”
Millie tried to focus on the people taking down cabinets and knocking down walls. He was going to be doing those same things to her childhood home.
“It’s a good thing you’re doing—truly. It will make it easier for me.” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
Noah turned back to her from where he stood unloading books onto the shelf. “Easier? What do you mean?”
A moment’s distraction and she was already spilling secrets she had never intended to share, not that she ever had the chance before this. She hugged herself, rubbing her hand up and down her other arm and shrugged.
She stared ahead at the TV, not wanting to make eye contact. “Just that if the house is all fixed up, someone will want to be here. I don’t like always being alone.”
It was the truth, even if it was only part of it. He stared at her, his blue eyes narrowed in thought. Did he believe her? He let out a distracted “hmm” before returning to his box. He carried it to a table with drawers on the far end of the sofa and sat down on the floor with it.
“What are you doing to the house first?” Millie said as she adjusted her glasses.
Perhaps the distraction would keep him from thinking too hard about what she said before. It would certainly help her to avoid making any more mistakes.
“The bedroom next to the largest bedroom is going to get split into a closet and a new master bathroom,” he answered over his shoulder.
“Mother’s room already has a closet,” she said practically.
“That’ll be my closet. The lady of the house requires something bigger.”
Millie scooted across the seat, closer to where Noah was working on unloading slim plastic cases from a box. “Why would she need something bigger? Are you two rich?” She leaned over the arm of the sofa, her arms crossed in front of her. “I wondered that when I saw you the first time. You were both dressed so fine. But if you are, I can’t image why you would want my house.”
Noah looked up at Millie; his eyes glittered with the smile that stretched across his handsome face. She felt that tingling in her cheeks again and a fluttering feeling that urged her to trust that unguarded look he had. Her mind flashed the image of another smiling face, and Millie frowned. She didn’t want to think of that man, not while she was with Noah.
In the pit of her stomach, the uneasy sensation of tilting on an imperceptible axis moved through her. The room slid away around her. She sat properly on her mother’s dainty floral sofa. Sunshine that shouldn’t be filled the room. She focused on the man sitting in front of her—the real one.
“Millie, are you okay?” Noah’s smile faltered. His eyes seemed to search hers.
She focused on his blue eyes, a lifeline to reality. Harold’s had been brown.
“I’ll be fine,” she lied.
“Aren’t ya a pretty little thing?” Harold leered at her, his voice quiet, just for her.
“What’s going on,” Noah said sharply. He started to stand. His brow drew together in a mask of concern. “Did I do something wrong?”
She was supposed to answer Harold, but he wasn’t really here. Noah was here. “Tell me why she needs her own closet.” Millie struggled to keep her voice even, not show the desperation welling up inside of her.
“Will ya let me talk to ya later?” Harold left his suitcase in the hall and walked towards her. “When yer mama’s not around? I’m new in town, and I was hoping we could be friends. Course a girl as sweet as you is probably too busy for the likes of me.”
That day, she had been flattered by his attention. At seventeen, no man had ever spoken to her like that. No man had ever noticed her. But she was revolted now and wanted to stay with the man that looked at her with kindness and concern, the man that cared how she felt about the house.
“You aren’t seeing me are you?” Noah followed her gaze to the living room entrance. “Who’s there, Millie?”
She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to explain it to Noah, to tell him how she suffered. She just wanted him to cover up the bad memories with change so she wouldn’t have to fall into them over and over again. If she weren’t so worked up about all this change, this wouldn’t be happening so soon on the heels of the last memory.
Noah reached out as if to steady her. For a precious second, it stopped. She was on Noah’s leather sofa, and she felt him, the impossible weight of his grip on her shoulders anchoring her to the present. How long had it been since someone touched her?
“I been wait’n my whole life to meet a girl like you.” Harold said.
Just like that, she lost it. Noah was gone, replaced by the day her life changed irrevocably. God, how she hoped Noah would tear apart this room, so she never had to live this again.
what channel would you like it on today?” Noah asked her, as he loaded his pockets with his keys and wallet.
“I like that one with all the reality shows. The way people live their lives now, it’s so interesting.” Millie nestled herself into her favorite corner of the sofa. The monstrous thing was growing on her.
This new routine between them was a minor miracle. She enjoyed the illusion of having a life. Noah
had offered to put something on for her nearly every morning in the last few weeks. He had come down for work that first morning and found her on the sofa where she had disappeared the night before. She expected him to push for answers, but he didn’t. He just changed the channel and smiled.
Noah chuckled. “I suppose it’s quite the culture shock for you.”
“Yes, it is. Thank you for allowing me the luxury. I’ve been learning so much. But I’m sure once your bride moves in this can’t continue.”
Claire hadn’t been in the house once. Millie couldn’t understand why she would stay away. Instead, there were nights when Noah left and didn’t come home. Millie came to hate those nights. It was as if her memories lay in wait and snatched her away.
Noah shrugged. “I’ll work something out. She’s coming by tonight to see the progress I’ve made upstairs. Did you want me to show you how the remote works before I go?”
“No, thank you. I’d rather not damage your TV or drain your remote.” Millie chose to address the easiest question first.
She had expected him to ask about the remote before this, but it was as if he used it to distract her from his other statements. Why did he want to divert her from the fact that Claire was coming?
“Thanks, a new one isn’t in the budget,” he said with a chuckle.
“Don’t worry, Noah. I won’t do anything to frighten Claire if that’s what you’re worried about.” Why else would he feel the need to announce it to Millie like that—sneaking it in? It was his home too.
Noah’s cheeks grew flushed, and he took a step back towards the hall. He looked at the front door and back at her. “You have a nice day.”
“Yes, you as well,” she said as cheerfully as she could muster. She hoped he would find it reassuring instead of the false note that met her ears.
Until Death Do Us Part: Haunted Romance Series Book 1 Page 2