by Bryn Donovan
Aaron said, “I think Polly’s husband buried her in the garden.”
Nicole’s throat tightened. “That makes sense.” She swallowed. “The things that happened with the flowers. And—you know before I went outside the other night, I felt scared that she was out there.”
Aaron nodded. “She’s got to be.”
“How do we make her go away?” A horrible thought popped into her head. “We don’t have to dig her up, do we?”
“I don’t think so. When my grandmother was young, they had a ghost on the farm.”
“No way.”
He gave her a look of mock offense, though his eyes twinkled. “You’re calling my memaw a liar?”
“No!” After what Nicole had been through the last couple of days, she could hardly judge. “What did she do?”
“Asked the ghost real nicely to leave. I think we should try that.”
Nicole’s mouth went slack. “Are you kidding me?”
From the look in his eyes, he wasn’t. “Unless you’ve got any other ideas.”
Nicole was about to shake her head when inspiration struck. “Your dad’s a minister. He’ll know what to do.”
“He won’t even listen to talk about a ghost.”
“Oh,” she said, deflated. They needed an expert. But how did one find experts in ghost removal? “Can we ask your grandma how she talked to a dead person?”
“’Fraid not. She’s dead herself.”
Nicole cringed. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault.” This last bit struck her as an odd thing to say. “She told me how she did it. She learned it from her grandmother.”
“Really? You have an interesting family.” Irish Protestant? They sounded more like witches.
“On Mama’s side, they were all superstitious, that’s for damn sure.”
Nicole asked, “So what did your grandma do?”
Aaron frowned. “I was eight years old when she told me about it, but I remember. She waited until sundown and lit six black candles, stuck in the ground in a ring. Then she called the ghost three times by name—like Polly Shepps, I summon thee.”
“Don’t say it!” Nicole said, loud enough to startle a middle-aged couple walking by. The two men exchanged glances with one another and smiled, as if to say, Young people and their drama.
“I wasn’t going to,” Aaron said. “What do you say? We give this a try?”
Nicole sighed. “Where do we get black candles?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aaron told Nicole that a store called Mystic Light might be a good bet. In the truck, he explained that he’d never set foot in the place himself, but his sister had frequented it in college when she was into Tarot card reading. He wasn’t sure it would even still be there, but they arrived to find it open, with multicolored ribbons fluttering in the breeze outside the door.
In the front of the shop, huge displays of crystals glittered. Nicole ran her fingers over a sphere of clear quartz. “Oooh.” She looked back at Aaron. “Aren’t they pretty?”
Drawing nearer to Nicole, he pointed at one of the little signs in the display. “And they have magical powers.” The man behind the counter shot him a dirty look.
“We’re here to get supplies to talk to the dead,” Nicole reminded him. “We can’t exactly judge.”
“Good point,” he admitted. The man behind the counter went back to his task of portioning out a dried herb into small plastic bags.
Nicole picked up a hefty geode full of pale blue crystals, like a miniature enchanted cave. “Blue calcite,” she read off the sign. “It’s so sparkly.”
“Like your eyes,” Aaron said.
The compliment and the warmth in his low voice sent a thrill through her. “Thank you,” she breathed.
What if her resolve to be alone was timed exactly wrong, just as she met someone very right? Flustered, she returned the rock to the glass shelf. “We should, um.” What had they come here for again?
Aaron asked the man at the counter, “Do y’all have black candles?”
“In the back.” He gestured with his thumb. Aaron and Nicole passed resin and brass statuettes of Buddhas, warrior women, and elephant-headed gods to gather up their provisions.
As they approached the cash register, Nicole said to Aaron, “I’ll pay for it.”
“Nah, I got it. You can get lunch.”
“Okay.” Wait—they hadn’t discussed going to lunch. She wanted to go with him, though, and not only because she was hungry. Wherever they went, the meal would likely cost more than the candles and the packet of herbs, but that was all right.
Aaron made a detour to grab something at the front of the store. He set the blue crystal geode down on the counter next to the other items.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she demanded. “You can’t get that for me.”
“Who says I’m getting it for you?”
“Oh. Okay.”
The man behind the counter rang it up. Aaron gave Nicole a look of amused disbelief and then signed the sales slip. “Of course it’s for you.”
Delight warred with reluctance inside her. “You shouldn’t—”
“Come on, it’s nothing.” He took her hand and set the geode in it.
As they walked out of the shop into the fall sunshine, Nicole’s spirits sparkled as brightly as the unexpected gift in her hand. Maybe her life in Savannah had gotten off to a rough start, but new beginnings were often that way.
They at least had a plan to deal with the ghost, and for all she knew, it would work. That would give her an amazing story to tell forever. And if it didn’t work, well, maybe she could find an apartment fast. No matter what, it wasn’t like she’d live in Francie’s house forever.
A cloud passed over her thoughts. Aaron did have to live in that neighborhood, or at least until he sold his place and moved. Would Polly keep hanging around if Nicole left?
Maybe not. As far as Aaron knew, the ghost had never bothered anybody before. It seemed as though Nicole’s own presence had caused the problem.
“Aaron!” A high-pitched voice interrupted Nicole’s thoughts. A young blond woman faced them on the sidewalk.
Aaron tensed. “Chelsea?”
“Oh my God, how are you?” She squeezed his arm. “I keep thinking we should get together.” She was gorgeous in the most girly way, with glossy pink lipstick that matched her nails. Her white sundress showed off a flawless golden tan.
Aaron gave a tight smile. “Yeah, we should. Nicole, this is Chelsea.” He added to the young woman, “Nicole’s new in town.”
Although he made the introduction, he neglected to provide any clue about who Chelsea was. She said to Nicole, “I’m sure Aaron will do a wonderful job of showing you around.”
Chelsea didn’t appear particularly jealous, at least. Nicole peered at Aaron. She’d never seen him look so awkward.
“Y’all have a nice day,” Chelsea said, and added to Aaron, “Call me!”
As he and Nicole walked to the truck, Nicole hazarded a guess. “Ex-girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” They got in and put on their seat belts, and Aaron started the engine.
Then he paused. “Actually, no. I know her from group therapy.”
Although Aaron managed to sound casual, as he pulled out of the parking lot, his heart stammered. Why was he telling her this?
He never told anyone. Not his friends in college, even after the breakup with his girlfriend. Not his coworkers, although a few of them had owned up to their own mental health issues, milder than those of the patients and under control.
She asked, “You’re not in therapy anymore?”
Such an ordinary question. Her voice and expression conveyed interest, not alarm. “No, it was in high school.”
Nicole glanced out at the road. “Hey, where are we going to lunch, by th
e way?”
He blinked. In fact, he hadn’t even considered it. “There’s a good brewpub near here.”
“That sounds perfect.” After a moment, she asked, “What were you in therapy for? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
He started with the much less scary thing. “I used to have this, uh—thing about counting. Like I wanted to count to ten all the time, and make things add up to ten. When I was a kid, if there were nine questions on a test, it would drive me crazy. I’d add an extra credit question and answer it.”
“Huh, I never heard of that.” Nicole looked down in at the crystal geode in her hand, turning it slightly in the light. “Is there a name for it?”
“It’s a kind of OCD,” he told her.
“Oh, okay,” she said. “But you don’t have the kind that makes you neat.”
That made him smile. “I really don’t.”
“You don’t do the counting anymore?”
“Not usually. When I make coffee I still have to make ten cups.”
“Ohhh.” She laughed, and then caught herself. “Sorry. I just—”
“It’s fine,” he said. “It is kind of funny.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem so bad,” Nicole said. “Everybody’s got their own little quirks.”
“Oh, yeah? What are yours?” Although he kept his voice easy, his shoulders were still tensed. He was changing the subject because maybe he’d already told her enough for one day.
“I don’t have to tell you mine!” she protested.
He brought the truck to a stop at an intersection. “You’re obligated to tell me at least one, since I was honest.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. I write these little—” She stopped and shielded her face from him with one hand. “No, this is too embarrassing!”
“Come on, it can’t be that bad.” Now he was genuinely curious.
“All right, all right. I have this journal where I write down these affirmations for myself and repeat them in my head to make me feel better. Or sometimes I say them out loud.”
“Like what?”
“Like—oh my gosh, it’s so stupid. I am strong, I am brave...stuff like that.”
His heart warmed. She had no idea how adorable she was. “Nicole, that’s not stupid.” He turned into the parking lot of the brewpub. “That’s good for your mental health.”
“Really?”
“Sure,” he said. “Positive self-talk.”
“Huh.” She gave him a bright smile that made him want to grab her and kiss the daylights out of her. “Okay, I feel better.”
She left the crystal in the truck. As they walked to the entrance of the restaurant, Aaron reached out to take her hand. The worst she could do was draw back.
Her elegant fingers wrapped around his. Aaron’s heart beat harder. He itched to put his arm around her waist and draw her closer, to feel those sweet curves up against him. Even better, he visualized taking her to bed, stripping off her clothes to see and touch and kiss every inch of her lovely body.
“So we’ll do it tonight?” Nicole asked.
Aaron started. The ghost. She was talking about the ghost. “Yeah, I think so,” he said as he held the door to the brewpub open for her.
The hostess seated them at a booth and brought their menus. Nicole scanned hers for a moment, and then looked up and said, “I’m kind of surprised you even needed therapy for the counting thing. It sounds annoying, but not that bad. Annoying for you, I mean,” she added.
He’d hoped they were done talking about this. “There was other stuff, too.”
“What other stuff?”
As long as he was being truthful, he might as well go whole hog. For better or worse, something in him didn’t want to lie to her.
“I used to get scared that I’d uh, hurt somebody. Or kill somebody.” Nicole’s eyes widened.
Shit. He already regretted this. He cleared his throat. “If something bad happened to someone, I’d even start thinking I did it. When I was a kid I thought maybe I, uh, poisoned my grandma and killed her and I didn’t remember. And I was afraid I’d sleepwalk and kill somebody...things like that.”
Nicole frowned. “Did you sleepwalk as a kid?”
“No.” He knew he sounded both disturbing and pathetic. He stared down at the menu.
Her silence tormented him. No doubt she was wondering how to get away from a homicidal maniac.
“I scared you,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to have lunch with me. I’ll call you an Uber.”
Nicole blinked at him. “What? No, no, I was just thinking.”
She was prolonging his rejection. It almost made him angry. “Just thinking what?”
“I can remember times when I’d think something awful, like—Ugh, I don’t even want to say. But only for a moment.”
“Intrusive thoughts,” Aaron said. “A lot of people have them—a lot of normal people.”
“I ignore them. But it sounds like it’s harder for you to ignore them.”
Aaron could hardly breathe, caught between shame and hope. “It’s not bad now. They used to take root and just—repeat over and over again.”
Her blue eyes fixed him in a steady gaze. “Have you ever hurt anyone?”
“I’d sooner die.” That had been part of the problem—the demon whispering in Aaron’s ear that he’d better take himself out to keep everyone else safe.
She was still sitting across from him. She hadn’t run out of the restaurant. “But it doesn’t happen to you anymore?”
“Uh, sometimes, but it doesn’t last. Like—” Was he really going to tell her this? “When you fell off your bike, I had a moment where, you know.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. Of course she didn’t know, because it made no sense. Then understanding dawned in her eyes. “You thought it was your fault? You know it wasn’t, right? I wanted to try bike riding again, and I suck at bikes.”
“Yeah. That’s just how my brain acts up sometimes.”
She studied his face, and Aaron forced himself not to turn away, though he couldn’t meet her eyes. He was sweating. God only knew what she was thinking.
“Maybe that’s why you’re such a good person now,” she said. “Because you wanted to make sure you weren’t bad.”
No one had ever suggested before that his illness might have had some positive effects. The idea shocked him.
But it couldn’t be true, and this was too easy. “Why do you say that?” The question came out like a challenge. “You just met me.”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “You became a nurse to help people. You adopted a dog nobody else wanted. You mow the neighbor lady’s lawn.”
Aaron had no words. Something inside him was cracking open. He’d expected fear, revulsion, or pity at best, and instead he was getting praise.
“Anyway,” she said, and smiled. “I’m glad it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“Thanks,” he managed to say.
She looked back at her menu, apparently unaware of how much her reaction had meant to him. After a few moments, she set it down and wrinkled her nose. “Do we really have to do this ghost thing at night?”
She didn’t think he was a freak. Just a nice, normal fellow ghost hunter.
Aaron shook his head. “I’m not sure of anything. But yeah, we may as well wait a few hours. I need sleep, anyway.”
“Oh, right. Nocturnal.” She gave a tense laugh. “I guess I can handle being in that house for a couple of hours.”
“I’ll take a nap over there,” he suggested.
Nicole only hesitated for a moment. “That would be nice.”
After lunch, they returned to Francie’s. “You can lie down in the guest room,” Nicole suggested, leading the way up the stairs. This gave Aaron an unparalleled view of her ass, swinging back and forth lik
e the pendulum in the grandfather clock in the entry.
In the bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and stretched out. Maybe he should be too worried about the haunting to rest, but he felt as though his body was sinking into the bed’s welcome softness.
Nicole hovered in the doorway. “Should I wake you up when it gets dark?”
“Yeah, if I don’t get up on my own. Thanks.”
“Okay. Well—sleep tight.”
He heard her footsteps go down the stairs. Sleep dragged him under. Before long, though, her voice roused him again to consciousness. “Aaron?”
“Hey, what’s up?” Immediately he was wide awake, waiting to hear what she wanted or needed.
“I’m a nervous wreck. Can I just lie down next to you?”
Aaron melted inside. “Of course.” She still wanted to be near him. She actually felt safer that way. He moved over on the bed.
She lay down on her side, facing him. “I don’t know why I’m so scared,” she whispered. “She can’t hurt me, right?”
“Come here.” Aaron drew her closer. With a sigh, she snuggled into his chest.
He stroked her hair. Tenderness and lust entwined within him, but his desires could wait. He’d give almost anything for her not to be afraid, and at the same time, it was a privilege to be the one to calm her fears.
She felt so good and right in his arms. In the middle of one of the strangest times of his life—and given his past and his career, that was saying something—he’d found this source of deep contentment and hope.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nicole had dozed off. When she opened her eyes again, long purple shadows enveloped the room. Not far from her ear, Aaron snored softly, which struck her as cute.
When she recalled asking to lie next to him, though, she squirmed with embarrassment.
Where was her strength, her independence? After resolving to act in one way, she’d turned around and done the opposite.
It would all be better once they took care of the ghost. Nicole shook her head. She could hardly believe what they were going to try to do. But on a psychological level, it was pretty simple. The poor woman just needed to let go of her pain and move on.