A Spirited Love (A Five Senses Short Book 2)

by Gemma Brocato

  Jem flipped the corners of the book’s pages under her thumb. “Did she have any children?”

  “Eventually. With Edward gone so often, it took them a while. Mary devoted her time to the Baron charities and decorating her home. Her one great wish was to fill the house with kids. Their only child was born after Edward perished at sea. Our records indicate that Mary’s daughter, Olivia, died during the Spanish flu epidemic. I believe she was three at the time of her death.”

  Deep sadness crested over Jem’s heart. Her ancestor loved children but had been denied the gift of many of her own. And to lose the one child she did have at such an early age. Tears prickled behind Jem’s eyes. “That’s horrible. Poor Mary.”

  “She never remarried, although she remained in the home until her death in the forties. Since then, only three other families have owned the house, the last being the O’Malley’s. We don’t know much about them except they abandoned the house in the middle of the night. A fact that has fueled rumors the place is haunted.” Amy snorted derisively.

  “I’ve heard those rumors.”

  Amy shook her head and pursed her lips. “A bunch of malarkey if you ask me. There are no evil spirits here.”

  Maybe no evil ones, but Jem believed she’d seen an apparition of Mary Baron. Tapping her fingers on the book, Jem asked, “Is there a photo in here of Mary?”

  “Hmm, oh, yes. Her wedding portrait is in the front.” Amy stepped away from the mantle and sidled up next to Jem.

  Jem flipped the book open and turned the first few pages until she reached the sepia picture. She stared at the image of the woman dressed in silk and lace, a half smile on her lips, holding a nosegay of daisies and lilies. Strands of her blond hair curled in corkscrews around her face while the bulk of it had been swept into an artful bun. A tiara held a lace veil in place.

  Amy peered over her shoulder and gasped. “Oh, my God! She looks just like you.”

  Chapter 6

  Jem’s ears rang, and her head spun, making it feel like the top of her head was lighter than any other part of her body, floating free. The picture matched the vision she’d had the first day she’d entered the house. Jem outlined the woman’s face with her fingertip. She smiled. “Or I look like her.”

  “The likeness is uncanny. But if you’re related, it makes sense.”

  “Distantly related. But this is exactly what I expected her to look like.” Jem dragged her gaze from the picture and focused on Amy.

  “You’ve seen her, too?” Amy demanded, a tiny smile lurking on her lips.

  “Too?”

  “Mrs. O’Malley insisted she’d seen her sitting in front of this fireplace a couple of times.” Amy gestured to the empty area where Jem had seen the apparition. The very spot Clooney stared at with unwavering intensity. Amy pointed out the front window where sun streamed in, illuminating dancing dust motes. “Other people claim to have seen her elsewhere on the grounds as well.”

  Jem tipped her head to the side. “Have you seen her?”

  Nodding, Amy walked toward the doors to the solarium. She tapped her fingers on one of the remaining leaded glass panes. “I’ve seen her in here. It was her favorite place to spend an afternoon. She’d entertain afternoon guests, serving tea, lemonade, and those delicate little finger sandwiches. It offered her the best view of any ships entering the harbor. She’d wait for Edward to return from his voyages.” Amy’s eyes took on a dreamy look. “Imagine her seated on a wicker settee with a heart-shaped back. Unfortunately, he perished at sea.”

  Amy spoke with so much confidence, it was as if she knew Mary personally. Curiosity got the better of Jem. “Is that documented? That this is where she’d wait?”

  With a shuttered expression, Amy flicked her gaze over Jem’s shoulder toward the fireplace. “Not in so many words.”

  “You’ve seen her more than once. Oh, my God! Do you see her now?” Jem spun to face the spot Clooney stared at, then her gaze swung to the fireplace. There was something about the paneling above the mantle that drew her.

  In spite of the construction noise going on, Amy’s footsteps clacked against the hardwood floor. It was as if they were in a cocoon, sheltered from the world around them. She laid her hand on Jem’s arm. “No, she isn’t here now. You’ve seen her here in front of the fireplace, haven’t you?”

  Jem nodded. “She was on a settee, holding a letter. There was a table with a teacup on it right next to her. God, the fire was even lit.”

  “There’s something about the fireplace. Something off.” Amy’s voice was whisper soft as she spoke. She moved to the wall, squatted in front of the charred opening, and ran her fingers along the edge of the stone.

  Jem joined her, head canted to one side, studying the line of the fireplace where it jutted away from the wall. Amy explored the masonry work surrounding the firebox. Jem’s gaze traveled up to the entwined hearts carved in the wood. The longer she looked, the more her eye was drawn to the left edge. She dropped the book on the sculpted wooden mantle. “You’re right, something is off.”

  As she stretched her hand toward the wall, Jack’s voice stopped her. “What are you ladies doing?”

  Excitement bubbled over in Jem as his voice wrapped around her heart. She whirled around to face him. “Oh my, God. Jack, I just found out I’m related to the original owners of the Sea View.”

  “No shit?” His voice rose along with the corners of his lips.

  “Mary Baron was a George. I look just like her.” She scooped the book off the mantle and hurried over to his side. She opened to Mary’s picture and jabbed it.

  “I’ll be damned. She’s the spitting image of you.”

  “And get this. Amy and I have both seen an apparition of her. It’s like we know her.”

  Jack spread his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “Jem, you’ve never believed in ghosts before. There’s no such thing. I’ve restored enough old houses to know.”

  “Quit being so pragmatic, Jack. I think there is a difference between ghosts and spirits. I think we’re seeing Mary’s spirit.”

  His eyebrows lifted as if skeptical, but his eyes twinkled in the sunlight. Amy rose, swiping her hands against her black pants. Streaks of dust smeared on the fabric as she moved toward them.

  She stretched her arm toward Jack. “I’m Amy Mastin.”

  “Jack Kerrigan.” Jack took her hand, his eyes widening before she released her strong grip. He turned to Jem and gestured to the fireplace. “So what were you ladies looking at?”

  Jem pointed to the upper corner of the paneling. “Look at it, Jack. The left edge, where it connects to the ceiling, juts out a tiny bit further than the right edge. It isn’t a straight line.”

  “It’s an old house.” Jack studied the wall.

  “This house is perfection. Everything is square. Every door, every window. Every cabinet.” Jem pointed to the joint between the wall and the ceiling. “Except this one spot.”

  His look told her she was right. He stepped closer to the structure and ran his hand along the side where it protruded from the wall. On the downward stroke, he stilled his hand, brows furrowed. “There’s a catch or something here.” He changed the angle of his elbow, lifting as if to give himself better leverage.

  Jem crowded behind him. “What is it?”

  Jack shook his head. “Don’t know. A secret compartment? Buried treasure? Pandora’s box?” He twisted his head and gave Jem a cheeky grin.

  Tapping him lightly on the shoulder, Jem said, “Don’t tease. Just open it.”

  Leaning his weight into the wall, Jack tried to force the catch down. He grunted with the effort. “Must be stuck, or rusty.” He jammed his fingers under the edge and tugged.

  Amy stood to one side, twisting her fingers together, and bouncing on her toes. “Oh, my God! This is so exciting. Anything could be in there. I can’t wait to get it open.”

  Dropping his arms, Jack moved to the other side and studied the corners. “You’re going to have to wait unt
il I can figure out how to open it.”

  Jem continued to study the corner Jack had been working on. Moving closer to the panel, she squinted her eyes and stared at the bump in the seam between the wall and the wood Jack had been pushing. It was just about eye-level. When Jem raised her arm and stroked her hand over the small pebble-like protrusion, a tingle started in her fingertip. To her surprise, the button gave with a tiny click.

  She gave a startled squeak when a rectangular section of the paneling receded a scant half-inch. “Oh! It opened!”

  A musty draft, spiced with a hint of lemon verbena, emanated from the narrow space behind the wall. A wave of longing brushed over Jem, odd, lonely, but strangely comforting. She turned her head to look at Jack who stood with hands propped on his hips, a look of consternation on his face.

  “How’d you do that?” he asked.

  “I just pushed the button, and it moved.”

  “I pushed the same button, and it didn’t budge.” His brows jutted upward.

  “Maybe I have magic fingers,” Jem teased.

  “Aw, sugar, you know I like...”He stopped, casting a glance to their visitor.

  Avoiding eye contact, Amy’s gaze was locked on the floor as if trying to be discrete for the public, private moment they’d just shared. Light pink stained Jack’s cheeks, as if embarrassed by where his thought must have taken him. Matching heat rose up Jem’s chest and neck.

  Yeah, he did like her magic fingers. As much as Jem liked his. A tingle traveled from her heart to stomach to the hidden spot between her legs. She gave herself a mental shake. She pointed to the door she’d opened. “Well, it’s open now, regardless of who pushed the button. Can you figure out how to get it open the rest of the way?”

  Jack moved closer until his body heat warmed Jem like a soft fleece. He peered at the slight depression revealed when the door slid back. “It looks like it’s on a track, like a pocket door.” He examined the right side, pushing lightly.

  The narrow piece receded farther, and Jack grasped the left edge and pushed. Metal screeched on metal as the entire panel disappeared behind the rest of the wooden wall. “It’s a wall safe. Wait, there’s stuff inside.”

  Behind Jem, Amy clapped her hands. “Really? What is it?”

  Giddy excitement coursed up Jem’s spine. A hand descended on her shoulder, the pressure firm but gentle. She turned her head to say something to Amy. Her heart skipped a beat when she discovered the woman standing five feet away from her. Jem clutched her hands to her chest and spun in a circle, but found no one near her. A frisson of awareness shuddered through her, but it wasn’t fear. It was more like an odd affinity for a presence she couldn’t see. A secret smile on her lips, she whipped her head back as Jack dipped his hand into the recess he’d opened. She raised her shoulders in anticipation.

  Jack held his phone up to the space and turned on his flashlight app. A glow washed back from the enclosure, illuminating his face. “Looks like just some papers…Wait, there’s a little box, too.” Jack finished on a mutter as he drew his hand back, clutching a jeweler’s box.

  “What’s in it?” Amy demanded.

  Jack sent her a wry grin and offered the box to her. “Too soon to tell. Why don’t you open it?”

  “This is so exciting.” Amy took the small square from Jack’s hand and cradled it in both of hers. Her eyes glittered.

  He reached back into the space.

  “Are those letters?” Jem asked as Jack pulled out a stack of papers with a pale green ribbon wrapped around them.

  “Looks like it.” After handing them to Jem, he turned to reach into the space once again. “Ouch.”

  “What happened?” Jem dropped the letters to the floor and crowded close to Jack.

  “Something sharp in there.” He shook his hand, then sucked on his fingertip.

  Jem grasped his hand and studied the injury. “You’re not bleeding. What did you hit?”

  He shined the light into the secret compartment. “Looks like a journal or diary. With really sharp corners.” He sent her a rueful smile over his shoulder and withdrew a slender, black book.

  Stooping, Jem retrieved the packet of letters she’d dropped. Mary Baron’s name was scrawled in spidery writing on top. After untying the ribbon, she flipped through the heavy parchment envelopes, seeing two different samples of handwriting. Some masculine, some feminine.

  Amy squeaked excitedly. “It’s a locket!” From the fabric interior of the box, she lifted an etched, golden locket suspended from a fine gold chain.

  Jem stepped to her side as Amy pried the miniature case open with her thumbnail. Once open, it revealed locks of hair, one fine and white-blond, the other coarser and dark brown. Both curled where they rested in the ornate enclosure.

  “That’s baby hair.” Jem touched the delicate blond strands with a fingertip. Tears gathered behind Jem’s eyes, hot and sad. A cool breeze caressed her cheek and ruffled the small curling locks resting in the locket. It was as if someone had brushed past her.

  Amy partially closed the locket to examine the top cover. “This was Mary’s. It’s got her monogram. Oh, God. I bet those are locks of Edward and Olivia’s hair. Keepsakes for Mary. No wonder she hid them.” Amy pressed the two halves of the locket together with a quiet click, then dragged her nail over the etched initials. She flipped it over, smiled, and held it up for Jem to inspect. “More hearts.”

  Jem clutched the letters against her chest. “Can I keep these letters and the journal?”

  “Your house, your property.” Amy shrugged and dangled the chain from her fingertips as she offered it to Jem. It was heavier than it looked when Jem took it from her. Amy’s face was somber as she continued, “I would like an opportunity to examine them. Maybe sometime in the future.”

  “Absolutely.” Jem nodded.

  “From what I’ve read so far, this is Mary’s private calendar or diary.” Jack snapped the book closed and offered it to Jem.

  She juggled the letters on top of the book and slipped the locket over her head. The metal warmed instantly as it touched her chest and settled like a comforting weight around her neck.

  Jack slid the door back into place. “Finding this makes me wonder how many other secret hiding spots we might uncover here.”

  “Maybe there will be some clues in Mary’s book,” Jem offered as she scanned the rest of the room. Nothing else seemed out of kilter. But she’d be willing to bet there were other places. Hunting them down was an adventure waiting to happen. “It will be like our own little scavenger hunt to locate them.”

  “Well, you guys can figure that out. I have to get back to work.” Jack leaned over and kissed Jem. He lowered his voice and breathed against her ear. “See you at home later.”

  ‘Uh huh. Try to get home early.”

  He sent her a cheeky grin, then turned his attention to Amy. Extending his arm, he reached to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, Amy. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you. If we find any other hidey-holes, I’ll let you know.”

  “Great, thanks!” Amy grinned as she pumped his hand.

  Jem hid her smile as Jack walked away, flexing his hand to ease the woman’s punishing grip. She’d have to tease Jack later.

  In the meantime... “I’m going to read through these letters and notes. When I finish, I’ll let you know, and you can pick them up to look through them. Hopefully, there will be something the Historical Society can use.”

  “I can’t wait,” Amy said. She swept her gaze toward the entwined hearts above the mantle. “You won’t let them destroy the carving, right? I can have one of the contractors the Society uses for preservation work remove it while Jack’s remodeling and reinstall it when everything is done. I’d hate to see it damaged, or worse, gone.”

  Jem shook her head. “Not going to let any of the workers near that with a ten-foot pole. I’ll talk to Jack about protecting it. Although, I’m sure he’s already giving the guys instructions about leaving it intact.”

  Tuc
king a strand of hair behind her ear, Amy released a relieved sigh. “Thanks for letting me come over today. Mary’s diary is such an exciting find. I can’t wait to read it. I’ll get out of your hair for now.”

  “Listen, come by Taste around one tomorrow. You can have whatever I’m done with then. I’ll treat you to lunch. Philly cheese steak sandwiches on the menu.” Jem lifted her brows and smiled at Amy as she walked the woman to the front hall.

  “Don’t have to ask me twice. That’s one of my favorite meals.”

  Jem’s bones crushed together when Amy shook her hand. As Amy stepped out of the house, Jem flared her fingers behind her back. When the front door banged shut behind her, a gush of wind like a sigh filled the air. Jem caught the tart scent of lemons again as the hair around her face lifted in the breeze. The gentle wind didn’t bother Jem, although she wasn’t certain it came from the door closing.

  There was something more at play here. Jem let her imagination run free, considering the possibility Mary Baron’s spirit was keeping her company, whispering in her ear about how happy she was to have family in the house again. The thought made Jem snort-laugh. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, hiding her grin.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Malin about this. Mal was adventurous, but Jem wasn’t certain how she’d feel about the idea of a benign spirit occupying their new place of business.

  With the book and letters gripped in one hand and the fingers of her other hand wrapped around the locket, Jem glanced back into the front parlor for a moment, half expecting to see Mary sitting in a chair. “Clooney, come on,” Jem called. The dog trotted to her immediately. “Time to go home, fella.”

  Chapter 7

  After Jem dropped Clooney at the house, she returned to the café. She set aside the contents from the secret compartment. While Avery cleaned the kitchen, Jem got busy prepping for the next day’s breakfast.