Spirit of Love

by Duncan, Alice

  On the one hand, this let him off the hook. Hell, he supposed he could just march off, having offered to do the right thing and been rebuffed.

  On the other hand, it didn’t really let him off the hook at all. The fact still remained that he had taken Georgina Witherspoon’s virginity.

  “Damn.” He wished he wouldn’t react like a randy bull every time he thought about Georgina naked. He told his body to calm down.

  At any rate, he’d bedded her, and now he was prepared to pay the price for his folly. He hadn’t even considered what he’d do if his proposal was rejected, because he hadn’t imagined it would be. Shoot, what was he supposed to do now? He backed up another foot or two and leaned against the porch railing. He couldn’t see inside the house because the curtains were drawn across the windows.

  If it were any family in the world but the Murphy-Witherspoon clan, Ash could probably just go away and wait until they cooled off. But he didn’t trust those two females to come to their senses. He wasn’t sure they had any. But surely they’d see there was only one alternative in this circumstance.

  Something occurred to Ash, and it made him straighten up as if he were a bowstring and somebody’d just pulled him taut.

  Good God, what if she was with child? It only took once, and yesterday might have been it. It had not happened with Phoebe, but Georgina wasn’t Phoebe. Besides, Georgina had enjoyed it, unlike Phoebe. Not, of course, that that made any difference. Still . . . Oh, Lord, he’d bet good money those two silly women hadn’t thought about the possibility of a baby. He walked to the door and knocked again He remembered his hat in time to remove it politely.

  This time when Maybelle swung the door open, she carried a shotgun. Ash frowned at it. “You aren’t going to need that, Miss Maybelle. For God’s sake, what do you take me for?”

  “A good-for-nothing scoundrel, a low-down toe-sucking rat, and a bastard son of a bitch.”

  “Sorry I asked.” Miffed, Ash sucked in a big breath. “Anyway, I don’t think you’ve considered all possible aspects of this situation, Miss Maybelle.”

  “Like hell.”

  She was being very difficult. Ash probably should have expected it. “Yeah? Well, did you think about what would happen if Georgina turns out to be with child? What then?”

  “Then she’ll have a baby, won’t she? That’s what generally happens in cases like that, isn’t it’?”

  Ash stared at her, incredulous, for the first time feeling something akin to Henry Spurling. “But—but—”

  “But what? Listen here, you snake in the grass. You just get out of here, or I’ll blow a hole where it’ll do some good.”

  Since she was aiming the shotgun at his crotch, Ash didn’t have to ask where that was. He scowled, plopped his hat onto his head again, and walked down the porch steps. “You haven’t heard the last of me, Miss Maybelle.” Good God, he sounded like old Henry. Well, he couldn’t think about that now. “And you can tell that granddaughter of yours so, too!”

  “She doesn’t have to tell me anything!” sang a familiar voice from behind Maybelle. “I heard every word.”

  Frustrated almost beyond bearing, Ash hollered, “Confound it, I’m trying to do the right thing here, Georgina!”

  “You can take your good intentions and go straight to the devil with them, Ashley Barrett!” Georgina hollered back.

  She sounded awfully damned pleased with herself.

  Ash was so upset, he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t about to give up and ride away. Instead, he stormed up the road between the pecan trees on foot, cursing and muttering to himself. When he got to the end of the road, he turned around and stormed back the other way. Then he stormed out to the barn and hit the side of the barn with his fist three or four times, startling the resident horse and mule into a frenzy and the chickens into a flutter of clucks and feathers. He turned around, walked over to a big mulberry tree, hit it, hurt his fist, looked up into the sky, shook his fist at God, turned around, folded his arms across his chest, and slumped back against the mulberry trunk, deflated.

  “Dammit,” he muttered, wondering what to do now. He wouldn’t give up and go away. There was too much at stake here. His honor, for instance. Not to mention Georgina. Lordy, she might still up and marry one of those idiotic bankers, and then where would that leave Ash? Alone. That’s where it would leave him, which was exactly where he wanted to be.

  He couldn’t account for the ache in his chest every time he thought about facing the long future without Georgina to pester him

  “Don’t give up the fight, boy. It’s your life you’d be throwin’ away if you give up on our Georgina.”

  Ash leaped away from the tree and glanced around wildly. That was Devlin O’Rourke’s voice! He’d recognize it anywhere. God knows, he’d listened to it often enough over whiskey and yarns at the Murphy kitchen table.

  Then he saw him Devlin. Big as life. Only he was transparent. And he wasn’t alive. Ash could see the tree right through his body.

  He pressed a palm to his forehead. “Hell, I’ve lost my mind.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You haven’t lost your mind. boyo. But you’re going about this thing all wrong.”

  Ash rubbed his eyes. Lordy, he never knew stress could mess up a man this badly. Hoping the apparition was an optical—and auditory—illusion, he walked away from it. If he pretended he didn’t see it, it would probably disappear. Not that it was there to begin with. He suppressed a miserable groan and devoutly prayed his sanity would return soon.

  “You can’t get away from me, Ash,” Dev said, following along right behind him. “I’m here, and I’ve got a good deal to say to you.”

  Wonderful. Just what he wanted to hear. Ash didn’t turn around or acknowledge the ghost’s presence in any way. It was an illusion. It would go away. He just had to keep pretending it wasn’t there.

  “Pisht, Ash, don’t be a fool. You’re making a big mistake. I know, because I made the same one, and I’m payin’ for it. Every day of my death, I’m payin’ for it. I don’t want to see you go down the same road.”

  Dammit, the thing was chasing him! Ash gave up his dignity and started running toward Shiloh.

  “It won’t work, Ash!” Dev called. “I can keep up with you and your horse and a dozen like you. I’m no longer confined by space and gravity like you are!”

  “Hell.”

  Realizing it was useless, not to mention unmanly, to run away from a figment, Ash stopped running and turned abruptly. It was clearly too abrupt for Dev, because his essence sailed right through Ash’s stomach, creating a really odd sensation in his middle.

  Ash covered his stomach with his arms and wished he could go back to bed and start this day over again. Better yet, he wished he could go back and start yesterday all over again. He’d try harder to resist the temptation of Georgina if he had to do it over. He harbored an unhappy suspicion that his resistance would crumble no matter how many chances he had at that particular temptation.

  “What are you?”

  “That’s better. Come over here, boyo.” Dev floated off toward a small stand of live oaks, beckoning to Ash as he went.

  Ash hesitated for several seconds, his mind racing. Mainly, he supposed, he was hoping this manifestation of Devlin O’Rourke would vanish. Ash knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Dev was dead, for the love of God.

  It didn’t disappear. When it looked at him over its shoulder and shook its head as if it intended to float back and scold him some more, Ash decided to spare himself that misery, at least. He followed it. Slowly.

  Dev smiled and settled himself on a low branch of the nearest oak tree. “There. That’s not so bad now, is it, lad?”

  Ash eyed the thing slantwise. If this wasn’t so bad, he’d like to know what was. Offhand, he couldn’t think how it could get much worse. “What are you?” he asked again, not really expecting an answer.

  He got one anyway. “I’m the ghost of Devlin O’Rourke, of course.
I’m exactly what you see with your own two eyes. You might as well believe in me, boyo, because I’m not going anywhere until you see the light.”

  Now, there, in Ash’s opinion, was a really frightening threat. And here he’d thought his day couldn’t get any worse. “Um, and exactly what light would that be?”

  “The light of your sweet Georgina, is what light, you fool boy!” Dev laughed heartily.

  Ash didn’t. He continued staring at the ghost, wondering what he could do about getting rid of it. Nothing occurred to him He said, “Sweet?” for the sake of saying something. Sweet wasn’t the first adjective that occurred to him when he considered Georgina Witherspoon.

  “You know she’s sweet, boyo,” said Dev, answering Ash’s tone rather than his question. “She’s the sweetest thing on this earth for you, lad. Not for everyone, mind, but for you, she’s the one.”

  Another depressing thought. Ash eyed the ghost suspiciously. “And how would you know anything about it?” He felt like an ass, talking to a figment. Since the figment seemed to expect conversation, however, Ash guessed he’d better go along with the phenomenon until sanity returned, or they came to lock him up in a lunatic asylum, whichever came first.

  “Because I know you, lad. And I know our Georgina. She’s the one for you. No doubt about it.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Oh, I know all about your problem, lad. You’re scared to death of the married life. Don’t say as I blame you. But look at me!” Dev pointed at his chest.

  Ash blinked when Dev’s finger slid in his chest all the way up to the first knuckle. This was a very unsettling experience. He hoped it wouldn’t last long. “Er,” he said, “yes. I see you.” He didn’t mention that he fervently wished he didn’t.

  “Oh, aye, you see me. But you don’t know what you’re seein’.”

  He could say that again. Ash didn’t tell him so, but merely nodded.

  “The reason you see me, in fact, is because I made the same mistake you’re making now. It’s no fun being a ghost, let me tell you.”

  It wasn’t any fun being visited by one either. Ash just nodded again.

  “And the reason I’m still hovering between this plane and the heavenly one is because of the mistake I made and that you’re making now.”

  Ash cleared his throat “And what mistake was that?”

  “It’s in not declarin’ your love to the girl, boy! You love her. Madly and passionately! But you won’t admit it. Not even to yourself, you bullheaded idjit.”

  Dev was beginning to remind Ash of Maybelle, and he didn’t appreciate it. He and Dev had always been friends, and now Dev was calling him names. “Now wait a blamed minute here, Dev—”

  The ghost held up a hand to stop Ash’s protest.

  “You don’t have to tell me, lad. I know all about it.”

  That made one of them. “Yeah? Well, why don’t you tell me, and then we’ll both know.”

  “That’s precisely what I aim to do, boyo. You just sit down there and listen to me.” The ghost pointed to a spot behind Ash’s back.

  Ash looked around. Sure enough, there was a big rock close behind him, so he sat on it. “Go on.”

  “It’s because of Phoebe, boy. That’s your problem.”

  “You’re telling me.” If that was the big revelation, Ash wished Dev had spared them both the trouble.

  “No, no, no,” Dev said, sounding exasperated. “It’s your bad experience with Phoebe that’s coloring your opinion of Georgina. You aren’t seeing our Georgina right because your vision’s filtered through layers of Phoebe.”

  “Is it?”

  “It is. And you’d know it if you’d stop being scared for a minute and actually think about how you’re feelin’.” Dev tapped his head, again losing half of his finger.

  The effect was very disconcerting to someone who’d never encountered a ghost before. Ash grimaced and looked away.

  “You think that because you loved Phoebe and she turned out to be a shrew, all women are like that. But they aren’t, lad, and I’m here to tell you so.”

  Ash rose from his rock. “All right. Thanks, Dev. You’ve told me. Now I’ll just go back home.” He took a step in the direction of his horse hoping he’d be able to escape.

  His hopes came to naught.

  “Wait just a minute there, Ash. You’re not going anywhere until I’m through with you, so you might as well resign yourself to it.”

  Great. Just what he wanted to hear. Ash sighed deeply and settled back down onto his rock. “All right. Go on.”

  “You made a mistake in marrying Phoebe, Ash. You know it. Hell, everyone knows it. She wasn’t cut out for life away from a big city.”

  A brilliant observation. Ash nodded again. “Go on.”

  “But because Phoebe broke your heart and shattered your dreams, you’ve got into the habit of thinkin’ all females are like she was.”

  “And you’re trying to tell me they’re not?” Ash’s disbelief came through loud and clear.

  “Exactly. Precisely. All you have to do is look at my own darlin’ Maybelle if you don’t believe me.”

  Ash squinted up at Dev, who still resided an oak branch. “Maybelle?” When Dev nodded, Ash spent a moment comparing Phoebe with Maybelle. “You’re right. So what? Georgina isn’t like Maybelle, either.” He might have added a thank God, but he wasn’t sure what this figment could do to him if it got mad at him.

  “She’s more like Maybelle than she is like Phoebe. Which you’d see for yourself if you’d only get your head out of the sand and look.”

  “That’s silly, Dev. She’s a city girl, too. Hell, she’s even more of a city girl than Phoebe was if it comes to that. She’s from New York City, for Chrissakes!”

  “Pisht!” Dev waved New York City away as if it were a pesky gnat “It’s not the girl in the city, lad, it’s the city in the girl. Georgina’s primed and ready to hack out a new life for herself in an untamed land. Phoebe wouldn’t have been ready for anything but featherbeds and cushions if she’d been born in a log cabin in the wilderness.”

  Ash mulled over Dev’s comparison for a second. He wasn’t ready to admit to anything, because the rest of his life was at stake if he came to the wrong conclusion. It occurred to him that, after yesterday, his whole life was at stake anyway, and despair swamped him for a second. He managed to shake it off, but it was an effort.

  He decided to hedge. “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t much, but Ash, who’d known Dev for years, thought it was probably enough to set him going again. He was right. Ash couldn’t recall a time when Dev had been at a loss for words.

  “Pisht, lad, is that all you can say? Compare the two women yourself for a moment, if you will. For one thing, would Phoebe have come all the way out here, on her own, to help an aunt she’d never even met care for a woman everyone assumed was crazy?”

  The idea of Phoebe doing anything at all for another person was so absurd, Ash actually barked out a short, harsh laugh. “Hell, no.”

  “Point number one,” Dev said in a voice full of satisfaction. “Point number two, would your precious Phoebe ever have volunteered to cook a meal or make butter?”

  Ash pondered that one. Phoebe used to cook and make butter, but she’d never liked doing it. She’d had servants in Galveston, and wanted them in Picacho Wells, too. Never mind that there weren’t any to be had or that, at the time, Ash couldn’t have afforded servants if there were servants standing around on the street corners. Not that there had been any street corners in town at that time, anyway. “No.”

  “There’s point number two. And then there’s the matter of the quilting society. I don’t recollect your precious Phoebe—”

  “Confound it, she’s not my precious Phoebe!”

  “Ah, but she was once, lad, and that’s the whole problem.”

  “It is?” Ash didn’t get it.

  “Of course, it is. Think, boyo! If you hadn’t loved the woman, and if she hadn’t broken your heart into little bitty pieces, woul
d you be balking now at taking the lovely Georgina as your bride? Not for a second, you wouldn’t, and you’d know it if you’d stop being a coward and think!”

  Ash scowled, disliking the coward part. He also didn’t believe it, and he told Dev so.

  The ghost shook his head as if he’d never encountered a more idiotic specimen of humankind in his life. Or his death, for that matter.

  “You’re being ridiculous, lad. You love the girl. Admit it.”

  Ash’s stomach seized up and he had to slap a hand over it. Lordy, this was awful. If the mere word “love” made hint sick, what Dev wanted him to do was impossible.

  Dev tutted. “Jay-sus, boy, you’re worse than I was.”

  “Oh?”

  “I wouldn’t tell Maybelle I loved her, and now she refuses to tell me she loves me. And so I’m hanging out here in this abominable limbo, not one thing and not another, not in heaven and not in hell, suspended between heaven and earth, and for what? For a damnable lie! Because I did love her! I do love her! She was the light of my life and she’s the hope of my death! I can’t go to my eternal rest without knowing she’ll be joining me there! For God’s sake, man, don’t make my mistake! Save yourself while there’s still time!”

  Good God, the ghost was crying. Ash stared at him, unnerved. He’d seldom seen a man cry, let alone a ghost. And all this because of love? He snorted, thinking Dev, far from persuading Ash to declare his love—if he had any—for Georgina, was confirming his opinion of the exalted emotion. Love stank.

  Dev wiped his transparent cheeks with his transparent fingers and eyed Ash, disgruntled. “Oh, aye, I know what you’re thinkin’, boyo.”

  “You do?” Ash doubted it.

  “Oh, aye, I do. You’re thinkin’ I’m a foolish old dead man who doesn’t know what hell a female can create in a man’s life. You’re thinkin’ I don’t know what it’s like to love a female beyond bearing and to have your love thrown back in your face as if it was garbage. You’re thinking you’ll never submit yourself to that kind of pain and humiliation again.”