Even that.
Now was not the time to be testing his equipment, but if any one thing was going to assure him that he was all right, that would be the thing. He pushed himself away from Corrie's soft embrace and tried to get up.
"Not so fast, big guy. You took a pretty big jolt. And I'm sure it wouldn't hurt for you to get yourself checked out by a doctor in the morning." Corrie laid a strong, sure hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.
The firm touch was enough to subdue him and the burgeoning desire he hadn't been able to control. "Yes, ma'am," he murmured. What could be wrong with lying in the arms of a beautiful woman?
"I have something to tell you," Corrie whispered. "And it would probably best be heard sitting down."
Ben didn't know what to make of that statement. It could have meant anything from a declaration of love to the big kiss off. Somehow, he doubted that either extreme was likely. "All right," he answered carefully. "I'm all ears."
Corrie drew in a deep breath, and the rise and fall of her soft breast beneath his head set the blood pooling again where it didn't need to be. "You know, I've always said that I'd never seen any ghosts, and I didn't really believe that there were any here." She paused. "Until you came. Even when guest registers and pitchers were flying around, I was still skeptical."
"But you're not now."
She shook her head.
"Go on." Ben held his breath. He didn't know what to make of that statement, but he guessed he would soon.
"I saw them, Ben. Cory and Ham. Right here. In this room."
Ben pushed himself away from the comfortable position cradled in Corrie's arms and turned toward her. "Tell me. What did you see?" It would be too much to expect that Corrie could have seen anything that would corroborate his experience and would change the outcome of his story, but he could hope.
"I saw Cory standing there." Corrie pointed to the same spot on the oriental carpet where Ben had seen her. "She spoke to me. She told me that you would be all right. And then, if that wasn't enough, I saw Ham rising from your body. It was if he'd been a part of you."
"Knew it," Ben announced jubilantly. "I knew it. They are using us to complete their unfinished business." If he was right, they had finally done it.
"Yes, that's what Ham said. He said that he had used you to save me and, by extension, his Cory.
"Can you imagine going on for one hundred years with the knowledge that you might have saved the one you loved if you'd only been there an instant sooner?"
"It would certainly be the cause for a soul to linger earthbound until he could somehow rectify things. Ham must have sensed what was going to happen and did what he could to prevent it." Ben shuddered to think how he would feel if Ham had not been able to impress upon him the need to get upstairs when he did.
"Yes," Corrie answered quietly. "They're at rest now. I saw them go," she whispered dreamily. "It was just like in the movies and the books. They went into the light."
How Ben wished that he had seen it, but Corrie's description was good enough. "Did they say anything?"
She nodded. "Ham said he had to save Cory. But I don't understand why they waited so long and why nobody else ever saw them."
"Are you so sure nobody did?"
"I don't know. If they did, they didn't talk about it. But why now? Why us? And if saving Cory was the reason they'd lingered, why the mischief with us?"
"Now is easy, Corrie. It's the anniversary of their wedding and deaths. Remember, I told you that anniversaries were often significant. And, as for us…" He raised his hand to cup Corrie's chin and brushed a strand of silken hair out of her eyes. "All you have to do is look in the mirror."
"And the other…"
Ben couldn't really see her, but he'd bet her green eyes were clouded with doubt.
"Well, I have a theory about that too." He wasn't sure how well Corrie would take it, but she'd handled the rest exceptionally well. "Let's suppose Cory and Ham each had their own agenda. Ham told you that he needed to save Cory."
"A man thing, I suppose," Corrie murmured.
"Yes. Honor, commitment… love."
"And Cory's." She paused. "No, don't tell me. I think I can guess. She was a virgin on her wedding night, and she didn't want to go without finding out what it was all about."
And had left two tiny drops of blood on the bedding to prove it, Ben suddenly realized. "I think you're right."
****
The night air pressed down on her, still and dark without the aid of the air conditioner or even a fan to temper its heavy thickness. Corrie had managed to make temporary repairs to the broken door and, using the cell phone, had notified the electric utility about the situation. Though the storm was winding down, they hadn't assured results before morning, if not later than that. All she could now do was wait.
Corrie lay in her lonely bed, wide awake, covered only with a thin sheet. Her nightgown stuck to her weary body, damp with sweat. After what had happened, she wasn't certain she'd be able to sleep. Or, if she dared.
Though she had hovered, Ben had managed to make it into the Magnolia Room mostly without Corrie's help. He'd assured her that except for a headache, he felt well enough and that all parts appeared to be functioning properly, but still she worried. It wasn't natural for a human being to take as many volts of electricity as he had, and Corrie couldn't help wondering if there would be residual damage.
Her pulse raced and her heart pounded against the walls of her chest, whether because of what had happened to Ben or because of Ben himself, she didn't know. How could she have borne it if something had happened to Ben when she had finally found him?
Finally? That made it seem as though she'd been waiting for him forever. She'd only known him for a few weeks, but it seemed as if she'd known him for a hundred years.
Could there be something to the theory that everyone had his perfect other somewhere in the world?
She pressed a hand against her chest to try to still the frantic fluttering and sighed. Then her breath caught in a gasp. She had spent much of the night thinking about what could have happened to Ben, but now reality struck her with a wallop. Had it not been for Ben — and Ham, she had to acknowledge — she would be lying as cold and dead as the other Cory.
And history would have repeated itself.
Instead, with Ben's help, she had rewritten history and sent Cory and Ham on their way. She liked that idea almost as much as she loved Ben.
Loved Ben.
She'd thought she'd never be able to trust a man again after the number that Darrell had done on her, but now she wasn't so sure. Yes, she was, she realized with a jolt. She couldn't understand how it could have happened so quickly unless there really was something to her notion that she and Ben were meant for each other.
And with that thought in mind, she couldn't understand what she was doing downstairs when he was alone and hurt on the upper floor. Hurt? She remembered the way he'd turned away from her as though embarrassed by his reaction, when she'd helped him out of his damp clothes and into bed. If that was hurt, just imagine what feeling good would mean.
Then she remembered a dream from Cory and Ham's… Though Corrie was alone, she blushed.
Thinking about that dream and the possibility of making it reality, she crept out of her room and climbed to the top of the stairs.
****
Ben lay upstairs, sweating in the damp desultory breeze coming in through the open French doors. An occasional flicker of lightning was the only source of illumination to the room, but he wasn't really interested in looking at anything anyway.
His head pounded as though someone was using it for a drum, and he couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. He'd expected to see something earth shattering when Ham and Cory had been released, but he'd missed that. All he'd done was save a life.
He sucked in a great lungful of air. All he'd done? He'd saved a woman's life! That wasn't exactly nothing. Thanks to him, she was still here today and would still be he
re tomorrow for him to love. And the next day and the next.
Thanks to him — and Ham, he had to acknowledge — there would be more time to get to know Corrie. Ben managed a wry chuckle. Maybe, he would still get a chance to make love to her. And he'd be loving her as himself and not as a proxy for another man. Yes, that thought pleased him, and smiling to himself, he eased back into his pillows and closed his eyes.
But sleep eluded him.
His thoughts kept returning to Ham and Cory and the night they'd shared their love through Corrie and him. Though Corrie Wallace had seen the couple fade away, Ben couldn't help hoping they weren't gone forever.
No, that wasn't true. It was time that Ham and Cory Jordan were at rest. It was long past time for him to let Corrie Wallace know how he felt about her.
After all, if they had been destined to help Cory and Ham be together, wouldn't it follow that he and Corrie were meant to be together too?
He loved Corrie Wallace. He knew that now. He'd all but said it earlier, but it didn't matter unless Corrie knew it too.
He needed to go to her. To tell her.
As he threw off the bed clothes, he heard a gentle rapping at the door.
"Ben?" Corrie's voice asked softly. "I wanted to make sure you were still all right."
He smiled as he covered himself again. She had come to him.
****
"Come in," Corrie heard Ben say from behind the closed door.
It was hard to tell how Ben felt from the muffled sound coming through the door, but Corrie had to know. She pushed it gently open and stepped inside.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked as she advanced toward the looming shape of the canopied bed and the man lying on it.
"Just one thing," he answered huskily.
Corrie stopped. "What?" Her voice was little more than a breathless whisper thanks to her heart caught in her throat. Did he only need her to go down the hall for a drink of water or an aspirin?
"You," was all he said.
Corrie stood motionless for a moment, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. If she'd heard it at all. All she thought she'd heard was one small word.
But a word that meant everything.
Lightning flickered again in the distance. The storm was finally moving away, and in its retreat, it provided the only meager source of light with its occasional flashes. She could see then that Ben held his covers open.
She accepted the invitation and slid into the space between the sheets, uncertain what would happen next.
He lowered the covering slowly and gathered her to him, and Corrie welcomed the warmth in spite of the sultry night. "I just want to hold you," he murmured, his moist breath caressing her ear and making her shiver.
"When I think how close I came to los— To never having a chance to love you for yourself… and myself." His voice trailed off.
To love her. She knew that Ben was probably still too weak to do more than hold her, but that would be enough. The storm was over and they had the rest of their lives.
She turned in her arms and laid her head on Ben's chest. His heart beat clear and strong beneath her ear. "I'm so glad we're getting a second chance," she murmured. She ran a finger through the crisp, fair hair that sprinkled his chest and drew in a deep breath of air scented with Ben's masculine aroma and the smell of rain and bruised vegetation from outside. If she didn't say it now, she never would. "I lo—"
Ben stopped her with a kiss to the top of her head, and Corrie's heart skipped a beat. Didn't he want to hear it?
"Please. I want to say it first," he whispered huskily. "I love you, Corrie Wallace. I love you. And you can be certain that this is Ben Chastain speaking and not Ham Jordan."
"Oh, Ben." Corrie squeezed back a tear and choked back a sob. "I love that you love me. And I love you. I feel as though I've been waiting for you all my life."
"Me, too," he answered, his voice thick with emotion. "Maybe several lifetimes. Now, will you stop talking and let me show you something?"
"What?" Corrie held her breath. What could Ben possibly want to show her now?
"Just how much I love you," he said as he touched her cheek with his huge, strong hands and tipped her face up towards his. He captured her lips in a kiss that shook her to her core.
****
The sound of birds chirping and the crunch of car tires on the oyster shell drive woke her, and Corrie opened her eyes to the brilliance of an azure blue morning. If she hadn't been through the storm, she might have wondered if it had been real.
If any of this had been real.
But the warm, strong man in her bed and the litter of leaves and branches blown up against the window assured her that both events had happened. Corrie stretched and rolled toward Ben. She slipped naturally into his arms and rested her head on his chest. As much as she'd hoped they'd make love, she was relieved that they hadn't. After all, there would be plenty of time for that.
Ben kissed her gently on top of her head then whispered, "Corrie, I think Vanessa's here. If you don't want to embarrass yourself, maybe you'd better get up. She must know I'm here. After all, my car is in the drive."
Corrie leaned in for a real kiss. Satisfied, she rubbed her eyes. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, the white cotton sheet pooling around her waist. Now that she was fully awake, she wasn't sure how to act. "Ben?"
He grinned. "In the flesh," he answered slyly.
Corrie smacked him lightly on the chest. "You dog. I'm all for history repeating itself, but that embarrassing part, I'd just as soon forget." Though he had said nothing to reassure her, Corrie felt that Ben's teasing attitude had addressed all her doubts. "But, I won't be likely to forget last night." She smiled, remembering how he'd proved he loved her by holding back. "And I am not likely to want to."
The car door slammed outside, and Corrie clutched the sheet to her as though someone would come bursting in at any second. Ben chuckled. "I think you have time."
This time they hadn't been pawns in the plan of two amorous ghosts, but she still didn't want Vanessa to find them in such a compromising situation.
"I think I'll go down. There's no sense in slapping Vanessa in the face with it. She's likely to come to the wrong conclusion." Corrie straightened the rumpled bedcovers and wished she had worn her robe last night.
"You don't mind me leaving you now?" she asked as she straightened her nightgown.
"No," he answered huskily. "Not if this is going to be the start of something instead of the end."
Corrie grinned as she slid off the bed. "The next time, Ben Chastain, I want to try out the bed in the Honeymoon Suite, and I would like to be able to remember it."
She hurried toward the door, glancing over her shoulder for Ben's reaction.
He shook his head.
"No?" Corrie stopped. Was he turning her down after everything that had happened?
He reassured her instantly with a smile. "The next time I sleep in that room it will be for real. On our honeymoon. Is that all right with you?"
The smile on her face could have rivaled the morning sun. "Oh, yes," she answered. "That's more than all right."
"Then go down and tell Vanessa your plans." Ben shooed her toward the door.
Corrie gave in to another smile as she heard Vanessa yoo hoo to her from the kitchen. She guessed it was pointless trying to hide her happiness and went to tell Vanessa her news.
About the Author
Bonnie Gardner grew up all over the world as an army brat. She married her high school sweetheart and followed him all over the country during his air force career. No wonder most of her ten previous books have a definite military slant. She is a wife, mother, grandmother, avid gardener and a breast cancer survivor.
Also from Astraea Press:
Chapter One
Why hadn’t she stayed at the hotel? Why had she been so stupid?
Snow crunched beneath her feet, sinking into the sides of her shoes. Dress heels weren’t exactly designed for a mile-lo
ng hike through the southern Indiana hills during one of the worst snow and ice storms in the last decade. She’d never be able to wear them again. If she lived. And wasn’t that the question?
She should have stayed at the hotel. It wasn’t like she’d ended up anywhere else, anyway.
She’d made it a third of a mile down the road from the hotel before the car had decided it, at least, was too smart to get out in the storm. The car had died mid-road and no matter how she cajoled it, it wouldn’t start up again. Dead in the water.
Or snow, rather. And ice. And a little bit of rain. General all around southern Indiana December nastiness.
Staying in the car hadn’t been an option. Walking the remaining two miles to her house hadn’t been so hot of an idea, either. Not with the windows and doors icing over so quickly she’d barely been able to get the driver’s side open in time to get out.
Greta wasn’t completely stupid — she’d carried emergency supplies, but nothing like she needed to survive what was being called Stormzilla on the radio. The hotel staff had spoken of nothing but the approaching storm and the trouble it would cause. Still, the mile between her car’s final resting place and the hotel seemed longer, darker, and colder than she could ever have imagined.
She should have just stayed. It was standard policy at the hotel that in the case of inclement weather, employees on the clock could be comped a room. This served a double purpose — it kept the employees safe, and it ensured that there was staff present to run the hotel for any current guests who were marooned at the hotel. What kind of example had she set for the rest of the staff — the staff that were now looking to her for direction?
There weren’t many guests booked and she gave thanks for that now. Horrible weather and an even more horrible economy had hit the tiny hotel hard where it counted. Unless the conventions department could bring in more company retreats and seminars, it looked even grimmer for the hotel’s next year.
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