by Cindy Stark
“Much better. But it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have suffered through the most excruciating pain just to be next to you.” Nothing could have kept him from her. “You’re my own personal painkiller.”
She laughed. “You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted.”
“Never doubt it. You’re wanted.”
He caught the unmistakable scent of lavender, and he buried his nose in Erin’s hair to see if that was the source of it.
Nope. Maybe it was lotion. He leaned up and sniffed her shoulder.
She squirmed against him. “What are you doing?”
“I smell lavender, but I didn’t notice it earlier this evening. All I smelled then was sugary-sweetness.”
“From the candy shop.” She laughed. “The lavender is Rosa. Don’t you know? She haunts this place.”
He chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”
“No, really. Ask Annabelle. Rosa has been following me around since I arrived. I actually heard her once, the day you made me an omelet and then stormed out of the kitchen.”
“I didn’t storm.”
“Well, you were sure in a hurry to leave.”
He nuzzled against her again. “That’s because it’s hard to be around you for very long without losing my head and wanting to do to you what I just did.”
She snorted. “Could have fooled me.”
“You were too big of a temptation to be nice to. I knew the second I let you in, I’d be lost.”
“And you were waiting for Melinda,” she said softly.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt to hear her name. “I was trying to do the right thing, while she was out doing the wrong thing.”
“She cheated on you?”
He paused for a moment, playing back his recent history with Melinda. “I don’t know if she cheated for sure, but I think so. I rarely talked to her, and she wouldn’t let me visit her.”
Erin turned in his arms, facing him. “I’m sorry she hurt you. But I’m glad that you’re no longer attached.”
He chuckled. “You are, huh?”
“Yes, because now we can do this.” She ran a hand up his chest before she slipped it behind his head and pulled him toward her. Her lips met his with a fierceness that surprised him. He was hard in an instant.
No doubt he’d made the right decision by letting Melinda go.
He pushed Erin back on the mattress. “You think you can do whatever you want?”
She laughed and wrapped her legs around him as he settled between her thighs. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”
He grinned. “Oh, yeah. That’s exactly what I’d like.”
Chapter Nineteen
Erin woke to the sound of pounding on the bedroom door, the ferocity of it startling her and sending her heart racing.
“What the hell?” Rick sat up, reminding her they’d spent the night curled against each other in her little bed.
He walked to the door and opened it. Light from the hall rushed into the room, and she pulled the blanket over her naked body.
“Where’s Erin?” Hans’s distinctive voice echoed in the quiet.
“She’s in here with me.” His answer was harsh and possessive. Obviously, the man didn’t like being awakened too early in the morning.
“Annabelle’s not responding. You’d both better come.”
“What?” Erin threw back the covers, not caring if either of the men saw her as she groped through the pile of clothes between the beds.
“We’re coming,” Rick said and shut the door in his face, turning on the light.
She found her shirt and flew into it before jerking on her pants. “Oh, god.” She opened the door with Rick right behind her, and they sprinted down the stairs toward the glowing lights.
She stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. Blood pounded through her veins in sludge-filled thumps as she caught sight of Joel performing CPR on her dear aunt.
She rushed forward. “Oh my god. What happened?”
“We don’t know.” Hans answered. “She got up early with us to make breakfast before we head out for training. She was standing there talking, and then she kind of gasped and dropped.”
“Where’s your phone?” Erin asked Rick, desperately searching for something to stop the impossible scene playing out in front of her. “We need an ambulance.”
“I’ve already called the emergency number,” Hans said before Rick could respond. “The sheriff’s coming.”
Joel paused long enough to check her pulse before shaking his head and continuing.
“No,” she whispered, turning to Rick as a bottomless ache began to consume her. She gripped his hand as tremor after tremor rocked her. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not after she’d finally found the one person in her family who understood her. Rick pulled her into his arms, and she crumbled against him. “Help her.”
Rick crushed her with his embrace as though clinging to her might save Annabelle.
It seemed like hours before the deputy EMTs rushed into the house and relieved Joel. One guy placed his fingers against Annabelle’s neck while the other pulled a small green box from their supplies and began to prepare the defibrillator.
“Stop.” Rick released her and stepped forward, addressing the EMTs. The room grew silent.
Shock vibrated Erin’s body, and she struggled to makes sense of what was happening.
“She has a do-not-resuscitate order,” Rick continued. “It’s in her room.”
“No.” Though she spoke, her voice sounded distant and hollow. “You love her as much as I do. Let them help her.”
Rick turned to her with a tortured expression. “It’s not what she wants, Erin.”
“You let Joel try. Let them try. I can’t lose her now.”
He came to her and took her by the shoulders, tears sliding down his cheeks. “I should have stopped him, too. She made me promise, Erin. She said when her time came, she was ready for the next adventure.”
Erin shook her head, staring at him through watery, accusing eyes, her throat so tight it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Then suddenly, the energy caused by the frenzied, frantic moments evaporated and a solemn hush took its place. The EMTs began to pack up their belongings, no longer in a hurry. They lifted Annabelle onto their gurney and covered her with a sheet, leaving her face still in view.
“We’ll need to transport her to the morgue in Sage,” said a younger man with a dark goatee. “Would you like a few moments with her first?”
Despair overwhelmed Erin as she stared at the man in front of her.
“Yes, please,” Rick said from somewhere behind her.
Everyone in the room cleared out with Hans and Joel offering condolences before they departed. She stood in the now oppressive kitchen, quiet settling over her like a suffocating blanket. She struggled to breathe through her tears.
Rick stuffed tissues into her hands, and she wiped her face, still struck by the sudden, overwhelming loss.
She approached the gurney and took one of Annabelle’s frail hands between hers, disbelief and agony leaving her fighting for a breath. Her aunt’s flesh was cool, her spirit already off into the ether without a care of what she left behind.
She couldn’t lose her. Not now.
“Come back,” she whispered. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet someone like you. Please don’t go.”
Rick wrapped an arm around her. “She’s the best woman I’ve ever known.”
She tried to shake him off, not wanting comfort, but he held tightly to her. She didn’t want his compassion. The only thing she needed was for Annabelle to open her eyes.
Her throat constricted, and she had to swallow several times before it would open enough to let words out. “I love you.”
After that, she couldn’t speak anymore. Only tears and grief would come. Rick held her for a long time, both of them sharing their pain and loss.
Finally, the EMTs interrupted, and Erin allowed them to re
move the body from the house. Annabelle was never coming back. She’d never share a laugh with her again. Never share another shot of whiskey, and no one would tell her stories of the past like her aunt.
How would she ever survive?
With numb blood running through her veins, she and Rick followed the EMTs out the door. They stood on the porch as the medics loaded Annabelle’s body into the ambulance before driving away. The moment they were out of sight, Rick pulled her back into the house and shut the door.
The comforting scent of lavender filled the entryway, and Erin glanced around. “Rosa’s here.”
Rick nodded. “I smell it, too.”
The thought suddenly dawned on Erin that only Annabelle’s body had driven away in the ambulance. Her spirit could be anywhere. “Do you think she came for Annabelle?”
He nodded. “Maybe so.”
* * *
Hours later, after the sun had long-since set, the house finally quieted down. People had come to the notorious house on Black Street to share their love and stories of Annabelle with Rick and Erin. There were so many dishes of food that the fridge was nearly bursting. The only difference between this day and a party was that the guests had cleaned up after themselves.
A solemn emotion crept through Erin. She’d cried and laughed so much that she was certain she had nothing left. Out of respect, Hans and Joel had found another place to stay with someone else in town, leaving only her and Rick in the house.
“I think I’m going to bed early,” she said as Rick rejoined her in the atrium after locking up the house. Exhaustion owned her, and she’d have to spend the following day planning the cremation and whatever else would follow.
“Me, too.” He held out a hand and helped her up from the chair where she’d sat most of the day.
They walked together in silence through the house and up the stairs.
“It’s so empty without her,” Erin whispered, surprised that tears had filled her eyes once again.
“Yeah.” Rick took her hand and squeezed it as they reached the top of the stairs.
Erin stopped, not sure where she should sleep. She didn’t feel like changing the sheets in her newly-vacated room, and sleeping in Annabelle’s bedroom just felt wrong. “Is it okay if I room with you for one more night? I just…” She lifted her shoulders and let them drop in defeat.
An empathetic smile curved his lips, buoying her spirits, giving her the tiniest sliver of sunshine in the darkest of days. “Come on.” He tugged her toward his room.
Erin took her pajamas and toothbrush to the bathroom, and then returned to slip into her bed as Rick passed her in the hall.
She was sure she’d fall asleep immediately, but she laid awake long after Rick returned and shut off the lights before crawling into his own bed. What a difference a day could make. Yesterday at this time, she explored a new lover, wondering exactly where he would fit into her heart. Today, that same heart lay quivering and quaking, and she wondered if she’d ever feel whole again.
A sudden, powerful wave of grief stole over her, and she curled into a ball, trying not to vocalize her pain. She’d wanted to learn so much from Annabelle, to share far more memories than their short time together had allowed.
The mattress next to her sank with Rick’s weight as he climbed into bed beside her. His chest was solid and warm against her back, and her body softened as he pulled the blankets over both of them and wrapped his strong arms around her.
“Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m here, and we’ll get through this together.”
She gripped his forearm, hugging him against her. “I hope so,” she whispered into the darkness that seemed like it would never end.
* * *
The residents of Argent Springs held a splendid memorial for Annabelle at the town hall. Her wildly flamboyant friends insisted that it be a celebration of Annabelle’s life instead of a dour, depressing event. Her service consisted of a few prayers, Sakima reading a poem she’d written, and a theatrical review by Agnes of Annabelle’s accomplishments including a small bit directed toward Erin and Rick about how glad she was to have had the two of them in her life.
At the end of the short service, Allen presented Erin with an urn holding Annabelle’s ashes that she was to secretly scatter in the hills above Argent Springs. She took it with shaking hands, sure that once spring arrived, Rick would accompany her in this task.
When the guests had dwindled to a small amount, Livia pulled her and Rick aside. She held both of their hands, giving them a consoling smile. “I thought I would let you know that Annabelle had a will. It’s pretty simple. She bequeathed everything to Erin except the money, which she divided evenly between the two of you, giving you both just under a hundred thousand each.”
Erin gasped. “That much? She always talked about how she needed people to stay in the house to help with bills.”
“I think that came more from enjoying a steady stream of visitors than anything else,” Livia said. “She was happiest when her house was full.”
Rick’s eyes were wide as well. “I knew she had some money, but I never expected…”
Livia squeezed their hands. “She loved you both so much. She wanted the house to go to Erin so that it would stay in the family, but really, she considered you both her kids.”
Still, Erin felt like she was taking something she didn’t deserve. “But I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks. How could she be sure she’d wanted me to have so much?”
“Do you love her?” Rick asked as he faced her.
“You know I do.” She ached with loss.
“Then why do you doubt she could feel the same in that amount of time?” he returned.
“I don’t know.” She sighed, feeling an overwhelming amount of love marred by sadness. “She was just so amazing. I feel like I don’t deserve her.”
Livia hugged her then. “We all feel the same. She was a truly remarkable person. My advice? Take what she left for you and go have a wonderful life. It’s what she wanted. And if she contributes to that in anyway, she’d be more than pleased.”
“Thank you, Livia.” Relentless emotion clogged her throat, making it hard to speak. “I’ll try to do just that.”
* * *
The next couple of weeks were a time of healing for Erin. Annabelle’s money removed the need to go back to her miserable life. The dear lady had left her a house and a source of income from the bed and breakfast. Erin had decided she’d continue with the business and might even set up shop and offer massages at some point. She’d returned to Salt Lake long enough to pack her things, leaving most of her furniture for her roommate. After all, why would she want her rundown stuff when she had Annabelle’s priceless heirlooms?
After that first night, she’d moved back into her bedroom. Pursuing their romance seemed somehow disrespectful while trying to mourn Annabelle at the same time. Rick had been kind and given her space. Perhaps he’d needed a little of his own.
But the strong scent of lavender had followed her constantly for the past two days, becoming an almost tangible entity when Rick was near her, making her wonder if Rosa was somehow trying to send her a message. Or more, if Rosa and Annabelle now worked in cahoots with each other, continuing the matchmaking Annabelle had started.
Regardless, more and more, she’d found herself eyeing the curves of his muscles and looking for reasons to accidently brush against his arm while they cooked dinner or passed in the hall. She’d caught his eye a time or two and wondered if he had similar feelings.
Livia headed home after sharing dinner with them, and now Erin was left alone with Rick once again, both of them sitting in the atrium, her trying to focus on a book and him doing something on his laptop. The scent of lavender swirled around her, nudging her to make a move, as fat flakes of snow cascaded beyond the large picture window.
She stood, and his gaze immediately followed her. “I’m feeling kind of restless. I think I might go through some more of Annabelle’s things. S
he’s stored some amazing history.”
A look of disappointment flickered in his gaze, but he nodded. She sensed that he might be feeling the same way she was, wondering if and when they’d come back together as a couple. But each time she thought about saying something, it hadn’t seemed like the right time. Maybe tomorrow.
She entered Annabelle’s room and flipped on the lights, trying to decide where she should start this time. During her previous forays into all things Annabelle, Erin had discovered Annabelle’s collection of jewelry. She hadn’t taken any of it to a jeweler yet to be valued, because really the sentimental value meant more to her, but she was certain a good portion of them were genuine gemstones.
A whisper of a breeze passed by her, and she was suddenly certain she was no longer alone. She’d come to discover she didn’t mind Rosa’s presence.
She turned in the direction she’d sensed Rosa, her gaze falling on a large trunk in the corner of the room. The sturdy wooden box held together by bands of worn leather looked as though it might have belonged to the madam as well.
Erin dropped to her knees in front of it and lifted the latch. The hinges squeaked as she opened it, allowing overhead light to bring to life its contents.
She blinked, feeling like she’d just discovered the most valuable treasure. She gently lifted out a gorgeous red silk corset with black lace sewn along the edges. Beneath it laid another purple one followed by emerald one with a short black lace skirt that had been gathered for fullness.
Had these belonged to Rosa? God, they looked authentic. And there were so many other things in the house that had withstood the test of time, so why not?
She held the emerald corset up to her, running a hand down the smooth fabric before she inspected the inside of it. Tiny, hand-sewn stitches held together the silk, boning and lace, validating her assumption that it was handmade.
She stood, propelled by a sudden urge to know more about Rosa. She tugged her soft brown sweater over her head and tossed it on the bed. A shiver ripped through her, brought on more by excitement than the chilly air. Her nipples tingled in anticipation as she removed her bra. She loosened the laces of the corset as much as she could and gently slipped the garment over her head, careful not to hurt the heirloom.