The Hauntings Of Sugar Hill: The Complete Series

by M. L. Bullock

  I would have to locate someone, a servant, or a friend, someone to take Devon away from Sugar Hill. I covered his ears in preparation for the gunfire and walked quickly back the way I came. I could have walked up the road and tried to find someone, but it would have taken me too long to get back to the attic. When I circled back to the front door, I was surprised to see a small carriage and a huge black horse, and an angry-looking Doctor Montrose. The horse snorted when it saw us. Animals didn’t particularly like me.

  “Ah, the witch of Belle Fontaine. What are you up to now?”

  Three…two… We all flinched at a sound of gunfire. Devon seized my neck tightly, and I felt a rush of fear.

  “You’re right, Doctor Montrose. That’s exactly what I am! You can’t help Mrs. Dufresne or me. The only one you can help is this boy. Take him away from here.”

  “Who has been shot? What is going on here?” He rubbed his oily-looking mustache and frowned at me as he tried to climb out of his carriage. I raced to block him. Prying Devon’s hands loose, I handed him the boy.

  “I don’t know, but you were right, Doctor. This place is cursed. Save the boy. Take him away from here before it’s too late.”

  “I have to see Mrs. Dufresne. I can’t leave her in your care. I know all about what you did to the other Mrs. Dufresne.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was willing to play along if it helped me solve this problem. “Take the child and leave, or it will be worse for you.”

  He accepted the squirming boy and eased back into his seat. I thought he would speak again, but there was no time for further argument. I had to get to the attic quickly.

  “Do as I say, Doctor Montrose, or I will use my skills on you.”

  He made the sign of the cross, reached for the reins, and hurried his carriage down the driveway. Devon cried for me and waved his hands, but I dared not linger.

  As I stepped into the house, I sensed the change. The place felt electric. As I hurried past the spilled kerosene and the soil and ran up the stairs, my legs felt like they had weights attached to them. As I cleared the top step, I felt unbalanced, so dizzy I almost toppled back.

  And then I would be dead. I would die here in this time. I would die and be lost forever. My vision blurred, the effects of the time travel, surely. But the portal was close. I didn’t know if I could find it, and even if I did, it was only me now. How had Jessica managed to use the portals by herself? She must be one powerful witch to not need the power of two. But then again, I could be wrong about everything.

  A sharp pain in my stomach brought me to my knees. Oh, God! I am dying. I am Dolly Jane Dufresne, and the year is 2019, and I’m going to die before I have my first kiss. I am going to die as a middle-aged woman, not a young teenager at the start of her life.

  I laid on my back, tears sliding down my face. At least Jessica and Mike were safe now. It would all be worth it. It would all be okay now. I might even make it to heaven. How did that bible verse go? No man loves more than when he lays down his life for another? No, not quite right.

  “I don’t want to die,” I whispered to the empty hallway. I lifted my left hand. It felt like lead, it felt so heavy. Suddenly I wasn’t by myself anymore. He was there.

  You cannot die, Dolly Jane.

  Arms encircled me, invisible arms, and suddenly I was back on my feet. A loud buzzing filled my ears. Time was running out.

  Run, Dolly Jane!

  With no time to think, I clawed my way down the hall and up the narrow staircase that led to the attic. I was crying now. I couldn’t think clearly, and the buzzing was growing louder. The door did not want to open or my hand wouldn’t work; I couldn’t figure out which. I pushed against one more time with the last of my strength.

  Again, I thought I would collapse. So tired… I’m so tired… I can’t die here.

  I could feel the air move just a few inches away, but I couldn’t walk. I fell to my knees and reached out. Yes, there it was. The shimmering. The doorway. The thinning.

  But now I had no strength. Danforth had been right, and so had Summer. But at least Jessica… Oh, I am so tired.

  And then those invisible arms were around me again. Holding me, lifting me.

  Let me help you, sweet Dolly Jane. We will go together. The power of two. That’s what it takes. It takes two of us. No longer will I be banished to the past. I will go with you and love you and be true to you all your days.

  No words formed in my dying mind. I could not articulate a refusal or offer any sort of tongue lashing. All I could do was sink back in those arms and wait for Death to come. It would come for me. I am dying.

  No, you are not, my rose. You will not die yet. I am with you. Ambrose will save you, and then you will be my heart forever. I will be yours, and you will be mine.

  I could barely see now, so close to death was I, but I saw him perfectly. The Lovely Man…

  Say my name, say “Ambrose.” If you say it, it will make you stronger.

  “Ambrose,” I could barely hiss the name.

  The room began to spin as he lifted me up, up, and up. We were moving toward the ceiling, but I could do nothing to shield my face from being smashed by it.

  But I wasn’t going to be smashed.

  I was falling, still in Ambrose’s arms, still safe and secure.

  And I would be in those arms forever.

  Epilogue

  Dolly Jane

  It was misting rain, and the moisture washed Sugar Hill in a sad gray hue. It did feel sad here, sad and broken. Everything was gray—the sky, the water, even the small boat I lay in. Who would paint a boat gray? This wasn’t a battleship, just a wooden boat for a tiny pond. My dress felt damp, but at least my hair was pulled up in a ponytail. However, if I stayed out here too long, I would be drenched through. Sitting up carefully so I didn’t flip the boat over, I reached for the oars and began rowing toward the tiny gazebo in the center of the pond. The many times I’d visited the family home, I had never ventured out here, even though I had searched every other nook and cranny of Sugar Hill. Now I had another chance.

  It was so hard to believe I had been gone for three years. Three whole years since Lucas found me in the garden that night, the night we brought Jessica Chesterfield back. It felt like a lifetime ago. The night I returned, I was immediately whisked away from Sugar Hill, but I had been glad to be with Aunt Summer. Now that time was over. Things were “in flux,” as Uncle Eric liked to say.

  I faced some serious decisions now, some of which I hadn’t expected before I came here. Mom had returned to rehab, but I had no illusions about her. Once her court-mandated time was up, she’d be back in the bars, but I had made sure my father wouldn’t return. It was easy to hire a few men to remind him he was no longer welcome in Belle Fontaine. Ever again. Yep, that had been easy as pie. Mom had her faults, but no one deserved to be beaten like that. And now she wouldn’t be anymore. I had made sure of it. Me and Aunt Summer.

  I eased the boat to the shore and dragged it up to keep it from drifting away. I slid the oars into the bottom of the boat and brushed off my dirty hands. The sun appeared overhead and melted the mist , but on the shore, just a hundred feet away, it was raining. How odd. Then again, things were always odd here at Sugar Hill. I closed my eyes and basked in the sunshine for a moment.

  His voice startled me. Hello, Dolly Jane.

  My eyes flew open, and I instantly spotted him inside the gazebo. Not fully him, but his shadow. “Why are you here? Are you letting people see you, Ambrose?”

  I only want to be seen by you, my lovely flower. No one has seen me, and I have waited, just as you asked me to.

  “If they see you, you won’t be able to stay. You do know that, don’t you? They will force me to send you back, and I will do it. I would never betray Avery or Summer.”

  I know this, but I wanted to see you. I had to see you. Only you, now and forever. I am lonely without you.

  As he spoke, he became clearer to me. “Ambrose,” I
whispered as he smiled. And yes, my speaking his name did make him stronger and clearer, just as Vertie’s journals had revealed. What would Aunt Summer think about my being here with him? She was happy with her dashing military husband, Eric Richards. I felt a twinge of jealousy but refused to dwell on it. Ambrose shimmered slightly. He was not a shadow anymore, I could discern his outline now. I walked into the gazebo and sat on the center bench, unable to take my eyes off him.

  I wondered if Ambrose knew I was studying him. I still had the power to send him back, but that power was fading. I hadn’t made up my mind yet what I would do. I never intended to bring him back, but it had happened, and now Ambrose was mine if I chose to keep him. And he had power of his own. He had demonstrated that, hadn’t he?

  He could drive a man mad! What would he do to me?

  I would never harm you, Dolly Jane. I only want to love you and serve you.

  I leaped off the bench in surprise. “You cannot read my mind. Do not do that! My mind is my own, Ambrose.”

  With a sad smile, he nodded and shimmered slightly. Ah, my anger weakens him. Good to know. I know that now, Ambrose. Your selfish reaching has taught me something about you. He nodded again, but his dark eyes were fastened on me. He became even clearer. I could see all of him now. His black pants, his half-open white shirt, his flowing dark hair and red lips. He was lovely. Yes, he was truly the Lovely Man.

  You are not afraid of me. Not like the others. Even poor Susanna was afraid of me. You remind me of her in so many small ways.

  “If I let you stay, you have to remain here in the gazebo. You have to stay where you abandoned Susanna. You cannot come to Sugar Hill.”

  I only want to be with you, Dolly Jane. Susanna is gone, but I am here. Love me. Let me love you.

  A soft, warm breeze carried his words to me, and he flashed an elegant smile. The wind picked up a few loose tendrils, which slapped my cheeks. The breeze tugged on my dress too, in a slow, seductive way. I felt my face warm, but luckily for me, my mind always spoke louder than my heart or anything else. At least until now.

  “I know what you’ve done, Ambrose. I know how you betrayed the others. As soon as another girl was born, you abandoned the Matrone. You should know that I will not have children. You must know I cannot. My body will not allow it.” It was a hard truth, but one I had come to terms with a long time ago. The disease that had crippled me as a child had taken that hope from me.

  I love you, Dolly Jane. Only you, just as you are.

  He faded now as if my doubting his intentions hurt him. Perhaps it did, but perhaps he only wanted me to believe that it did. He could be a trickster at times. I’d seen all of Grandmother Margaret’s videos even though no one knew it, and I’d read all of Vertie’s journals. I had spent my young life studying the Lovely Man. People had talked so freely about him in front of me when I was young, as if a cripple would never catch his eye.

  Why keep it from Dolly Jane? He will never come for her.

  But he had come when I was young. I was only ten the first time I saw him. It was here at the first family picnic I ever attended. I’d ventured into the Mirror Room on my horrible crutches and seen his handsome face looking back at me from one of the mirrors. I was not afraid of him.

  And then he was gone, banished by the Dufresnes, but I’d brought him back. I hadn’t intended to, but I, the most powerful Dufresne yet, had achieved that. I had crossed time twice, but I could never do it again. If I did, it would be for the last time, or at least, that is what I suspected. How many times could one person cheat death?

  Yes, I knew all about pretty, pretty Ambrose. “You know you are dead, don’t you?” I asked as I took my seat again. I crossed my legs and let my hands rest in my lap.

  No. Not dead because you are here. I am alive. Touch me, my sweet Dolly Jane. You are all I’ve ever wanted.

  He held his hand out to me, but I did not reach for it. I was still undecided.

  “Avery says she will live at Thorn Hill forever, and Summer has renounced you and Sugar Hill for her mortal husband.” He did not wince, but he withdrew his hand. “Avery will eventually make me Matrone. It is the logical conclusion.”

  Ambrose said nothing, and I read only longing in his eyes.

  “You must never harm Avery, nor are you to approach her for anything. And you must not let Summer see you, or it will be the end of you. She is strong too.”

  Yes, Dolly Jane. Let me love you. Please. I am so hungry for you.

  “I know, but we must talk. Listen to me, Ambrose.”

  I listen, dearest. I wait for you and listen.

  “Why did you leave Susanna here? She loved you, I think, until you betrayed her. Why? I must know.” He vanished, but he wasn’t gone. I felt the wind blow.

  Susanna is gone. She is no more.

  “I know, but why did you do it? You destroyed her. I must know why. If you don’t tell me, I will leave, Ambrose.”

  His outline reappeared. I hurt for Susanna. I loved Susanna. She failed the test.

  “When you love someone, you do not test them. You trust them.”

  I love you, Dolly Jane.

  “You love where it serves you, Ambrose.”

  And then he was in front of me, on his knees. I could see his face before me. His red lips trembled as he watched me. His vivid brown eyes searched mine as his hand cupped my cheek, and his thumb grazed my bottom lip. Oh, this would cost him. He was using so much energy. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as he enjoyed the sensation of touching me. Yes, he enjoyed it. I could feel his desire. He wanted me to experience what he experienced.

  I serve you, Dolly Jane. Always. I have waited for you, my flower. The last flower of my lovely garden.

  Even though I knew what he meant, that he was referring to the small cemetery behind Thorn Hill, his collection of Dufresne women, I found that I could not resist him. I had never been kissed. I had never done anything romantic, in fact. I was too sensible for that, but now…now I could not think clearly. I knew I should object, but as he drew near, I did not.

  I love you, Dolly Jane.

  His husky voice was in my ear, and then his lips were on mine. Warm, living lips. What if it was true? Jessica had crossed time to find the man she loved, although she had not been allowed to stay there. What if I was meant to be with Ambrose? Yes, I wanted him. I wanted him for my own.

  I felt his hand in my hair as our lips touched, lightly at first. I could smell sunshine and rain on his skin. And then, without fear, I kissed him fervently. This was no ghost but a man, a living man with warm flesh, a man I desired. I gave into that desire without regret, without withholding anything.

  Dolly Jane… he whispered in my ear.

  “Ambrose…” I dared to speak his name again. I felt him breathing. Yes, he was breathing! We kissed again, and all my worries fell away. I could only think of him.

  When I woke later, I was alone. My dress was on the ground next to me, and I reached for it and quickly pulled it on. My hair was unbound and had leaves in it, but that was not my concern now.

  The boat!

  I raced out of the gazebo expecting to see the boat gone, but it was not. I leaned against the doorframe and breathed a sigh of relief. I was not a good swimmer, and the thought of swimming across the pond made me nervous.

  “Ambrose, why did you leave?”

  I am still here, but I am not strong. I love you, Dolly Jane.

  “Will you be strong again?”

  Yes, you make me strong. Wait a little while, and I will show you how strong I am.

  His flirtatious voice echoed around me. My body warmed with desire again, but I refused to be a slave to it. There would be time later to think about all that had happened, but I dared not do so in his presence. I needed to think without worrying that he would hear me.

  “I cannot stay. I have to go back. Avery is waiting, and I must give her my decision.” I combed the leaves from my hair with my hands, quickly tilted my head, and pulled my hair into a ponytail
again. Hopefully, nobody would be the wiser. For the briefest moment, I felt a twinge of guilt.

  Do not leave me. I am lonely without you.

  “I must go now, but I will come back.”

  When, beloved? When? I sensed his frustration.

  “Soon,” I said as I closed my eyes. “You must stay here, Ambrose. Do not follow me. Stay here in the gazebo, and I will come to you.”

  No. Do not leave me here. You cannot leave me now. I am yours, and you are mine.

  “You will stay here. I command it.” As if to testify to my words, I pictured a wall around the tiny island. “You must stay and not cross the wall.”

  NO! That is not fair, Dolly Jane. I must be with you.

  “You must stay. If you truly love me, as you say you do, you will stay.” I climbed into the boat and began to row away. With all my heart, I wanted to stay with him, but I could not linger because I would weaken, and he would grow stronger. I would have to be careful. I could not allow him to escape, not if I wanted to keep him safe and keep the family safe.

  Return to me, Dolly Jane. Do not leave me here forever. I saw him briefly, weeping, his open white shirt fluttering in the breeze, and then he disappeared.

  “Soon, Ambrose. Soon,” I said one more time before I began to row in earnest. By the time I reached the shore, I could not hear him crying anymore.

  The world was as silent as the grave, and Ambrose was all mine.

  Author’s Note

  Writing anything concerning such a tumultuous time period in American history is stressful, but this story needed to be told. The world of left-hand and right-hand wives should not be forgotten. Who would believe that once upon a time in our early American culture, it was perfectly acceptable for men to take two wives, one to serve on his left hand and another on his right? How many of you knew the stories of the placées and the Serenes? I sure didn’t, not until I dug a little deeper into the history of New Orleans’ Rampart District. It is a rich and troubled history we share, fellow Americans. And the practice wasn’t limited to New Orleans. This happened in many places. As fellow human beings, we should face our shared history and learn from those tragic mistakes, not forget our past sins or close our eyes at our past offenses.