Before Harper could respond, Jackson was gone. Harper looked around her old room. The furniture had been updated from the little girl princess bedding and décor to a more modern shabby chic. The room was large, taking up nearly the entire front of the home. The queen size bed had a natural wood headboard with two end tables flanking each side. There was a chest of drawers and a longer dresser with a mirror. The window seat was adorned with the same white, light lilac and gray pillows that were on the comforter and bed pillows. The light gray curtains were the perfect match for each of the windows. Harper was happy to see that her aunt had kept the reading nook. There were conformable oversized chairs and a table between them.
Harper closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The events of the last few months were finally catching up to her. So much had changed. She thought she was ready for this new life, but she felt a bit overwhelmed. One step at a time, she reminded herself.
She heard Jackson’s hammering start back up. There was something oddly comforting knowing she wasn’t alone. Not one for living in a mess, Harper got down to unpacking. She put clothes and shoes away and some personal items in the drawers. She tucked other items neatly in the closet and hung a few pictures she had brought from New York.
A couple of hours later, she stood back and appraised the neatly arranged room. Harper was exhausted but happy. She heard doors being opened and closed and her Aunt Hattie’s voice downstairs. Harper took a quick peek in the mirror, reapplied some lip gloss, straightened her honey-colored long hair and went to greet her aunt.
As Harper hit the landing in the middle of the staircase, she admired the bright blue and gold flower-designed stained-glass window and intricate detailing on the dark wood staircase. She turned and took the last several steps to the first floor of the home. Turning left, she headed to the back of the home to the kitchen. As she approached, Harper heard her aunt having a conversation with someone. But no one was responding. Her aunt would say a few words, pause, and then start speaking again.
Harper peeked her head around the corner into the kitchen. “Aunt Hattie, I’m here.”
Hattie jumped at the sound of Harper’s voice. She turned and opened her arms wide. Harper went and hugged her aunt. Hattie said, “Jackson called me and told me you were getting settled. You look lovely. Is your room okay?”
“Thank you. I feel a mess. The room is wonderful. I appreciate you letting me move in.” Harper pulled back and looked around her aunt. She asked, “I thought I heard you talking to someone. Who’s here?”
Hattie hesitated, seemed to fumble for a response. Finally, Hattie waved her hand. “You know me, just talking to myself. I’m an old woman, we do that.” Hattie went back to the center island and pulled groceries out of the reusable bags.
Harper went over to help. She pulled oranges out of the bag and put them in the fridge along with some milk and cheese. Turning to Hattie, she joked, “Just don’t tell me there’s ghosts here. That would be more than I can take.”
Chapter Four
Hattie was as sure as she was standing there that Harper was going to catch her talking to herself again, and there would be more questions she wasn’t ready to answer. She wasn’t really talking to herself though. Harper had been exactly right. The girl just didn’t know it. Hattie was talking to her late husband, Clive Beauregard VI, simply known as Beau. His family was the original owners of the house – Beauregard Manor – as it was known in Little Rock.
The house, built right around 1900, was on an oversized plot of land at the corner of Hawthorne and Polk in the Heights neighborhood of Little Rock. The house’s huge backyard backed right up to the St. Joseph’s Catholic Parish. The parish grounds were massive. Visitors followed on Polk, which ran down the right side of Hattie’s property line, to the entrance marked by a brick archway and a large wrought-iron gate that was usually open. Directly back was the large Catholic church with an elementary school to its right along with an administration building. On the left was the church rectory, the place where the parish priest resided. Behind that was just woods.
There was a narrow walkway flanked by trees that connected Hattie’s backyard directly to the side of the lawn of the church rectory. Hattie was raised Catholic but lapsed over the years. She knew her Spiritualism beliefs were a clash, but the parish didn’t seem to mind being that close to Hattie’s home. The parish priest, who oversaw the entire property including the church, school and administration, was Fr. Patrick McNally. He was new and had just started over the previous summer.
Given the proximity to Hattie’s yard, she had seen the priest a few times. They were not necessarily friendly but neighborly. Hattie assumed he knew about her beliefs, and she clearly knew and respected his. They seemed to keep a mutual respectable distance.
For as out there as some people thought Hattie was, she was still harboring one secret. And she wasn’t sure that Harper was ready to hear about it. Hattie could speak to the dearly departed. She was a medium, but it wasn’t a skill she ever used outside of her house. She had enough going on with the living. She had no time to be chatting up the dead, too. Except, that is, for her husband Beau, who popped in and out, and kept Hattie company. There were other spirits roaming around the old house, relatives of Beau’s. Hattie knew she was going to have to explain eventually to Harper, but today wasn’t that day.
As Hattie busied herself making a salad for the dinner, she heard Jackson knock twice on the back door and then enter, calling her name as he cut through the porch. “Am I too early?” he asked as he entered the kitchen.
Hattie turned to him. “Not at all. Could you grab those dishes on the island and set the table? Harper just went up to take a shower before dinner. How did it go earlier?”
Jackson grabbed the plates and silverware. As he was arranging them on the table, he explained, “She’s wound a bit tight, but to be fair, I was giving her a hard time. She thought I was a handyman and demanded my help carrying her stuff.”
Hattie drew back, a wide smile on her face. “She had people in Manhattan that did almost everything for her. She had a driver, an assistant, and a concierge at her building. She’s probably gotten a bit spoiled. She’ll relax eventually. What do you think though? She’s pretty.”
Jackson stopped setting the table and looked directly at Hattie. “She’s very pretty, but that doesn’t matter. This is not a setup. We are both recently divorced. I told you, I’m in no state for a relationship.”
Hattie threw her hands in the air. “You only live once.”
“You only live once for what?” Harper interrupted as she walked casually into the kitchen. She drew up short though when she saw Jackson. She reached up and touched her wet hair. She took a step back.
Hattie saw the look on Harper’s face. “I forgot to tell you Jackson was coming to dinner, didn’t I? I’m sorry. He’s here most evenings.”
“It’s okay, I just didn’t dry my hair or put on makeup,” Harper said. “Let me go get myself more together.”
“No need to on my account,” Jackson offered.
“I guess I’m going to have to get used to you being around,” Harper said dryly and sat down at the table.
Hattie brought the salad to the big farm table that took up one entire side wall of the kitchen. She had made a salad and hearty chicken soup with some fresh Italian bread on the side. After they had all served themselves, Hattie said, “We need to get to planning on the Saints & Sinners Ball. I will need both of you to help.”
“I wish you had told me,” Harper whined. “I’m really in no mood for big festive parties. I was hoping to fly under the radar here at least for a while.”
Hattie felt for her. She really did, but she wasn’t going to let Harper sulk and shrink into oblivion. Hattie touched Harper’s arm. “Listen now, you went through some terrible things in New York. You need to regroup and get back out there. Besides, Fat Tuesday is March fifth this year and just ten days before your birthday. It’s time to celebrate.”
“
Not much to celebrate,” Harper said ruefully as she ripped off a piece of bread from the loaf.
“We can go together,” Jackson offered with a teasing smile. “I’ve got women chasing me all over this city that I’m trying to avoid. Didn’t you hear? I’m the new handsome bachelor in town.”
“I’m sure you are,” Harper said sarcastically and took a bite of bread, chewing deliberately while giving him a dirty look.
“Your New York attitude can help me fend them off.” Jackson laughed.
Before Jackson or Harper could say another word, Hattie jumped in. “See? All settled. You’ll go together to the ball.” Taking a spoonful of soup and a bite of bread, she added, “We only have four days left until Tuesday. The tents are coming tomorrow, the decorator is coming the day after next and the caterer and others. I need coordination help, especially with the shop.”
Turning to Harper, Hattie directed, “You can help here or you can always practice your magic and help out at the shop.”
“No to the shop and your witchy ways,” Harper grumbled. “I don’t plan on going there anytime soon, but I’d be happy to help here.”
Hattie smiled. She was not happy Harper was still down on the magic but pleased she’d be spending more time with Jackson. Hattie informed her, “You’ll need a gown for the event. It’s formal evening attire. I have a beautiful mask for you upstairs.”
“Mask?” Harper asked confused.
“It’s a masquerade ball,” Hattie explained.
Harper smiled for the first time. She said excited, “You didn’t say I can hide and pretend to be anyone I want.”
“I guess that’s true for everyone,” Hattie agreed.
“You can pretend you’re a sweet southern belle instead of a grouchy Yankee,” Jackson offered, finishing off his soup.
Harper shot him a look, but he wasn’t even looking at her. The effect of her annoyance fell flat.
Chapter Five
The days flew by in a scurry of activity. Harper barely saw her aunt. Hattie had been working long hours at the shop and then came home to continue preparations for the ball. Over the last few days, people had been dropping off items for the silent auction, and it was giving Harper a chance to meet a few people. What initially felt like being thrown to the wolves was proving to be a good way to jump into life in Little Rock.
Harper had been amazed at how little time it took her to feel settled into Hattie’s house and her new city. She hated admitting he was right about anything, but what Jackson had said proved to be true. Little Rock was very different from Manhattan, and for that, Harper was thankful.
With the preparation out of the way, they eased right into the evening of the ball. Harper was standing in her room, putting the finishing touches on her makeup and curling the wisps of hair that framed her face. Her hair was pulled back in a stylish chignon. Her gown was dark purple chiffon, strapless and floor-length that pulled in at her waist and showed the small curve of her hip. The gown had a sparkly beaded embellishment around her middle and a slit that went up high on her thigh. She’d never wear something that daring in Manhattan. The intricately-designed silver mask Hattie had bought her was perfect.
“You look amazing,” Hattie commented as she stepped into Harper’s room.
Harper turned to see her aunt. Hattie was wearing a lovely, floor-length gray chiffon gown that had a sheer sleeve. It was plain, but Hattie had dressed it up with a diamond necklace and bracelet. Hattie’s short, stylish gray hair was the perfect cut for her. The whole look was understated but looked spectacular. Harper hugged her. “You look pretty amazing yourself.”
“You’re not angry because I told Jackson he could be your date?” Hattie wondered.
“At first,” Harper admitted. “But he’s been really helpful the last few days. I’m getting adjusted to his sense of humor, too.”
“He doesn’t mean any harm. I know that much. But I am having a bit of a rough time figuring him out,” Hattie admitted as she checked herself one last time in the mirror. “He’s a good man. I think just a bit closed off.”
Harper nodded. “I’m just not used to anyone teasing me.”
“How are you feeling?” Hattie inquired, changing the subject.
“I’m fine, why?”
Hattie rubbed a hand across her stomach. “Something isn’t right about tonight, and I can’t quite place it.”
“Are you worried something will go wrong with the event?”
“No, nothing like that.” Hattie hesitated and then went on. “I sense danger, but there’s nothing rational to indicate that. I pulled a few Tarot cards, and I got death a few times. It doesn’t make sense. Just keep your eyes open.”
Harper reached out and squeezed her aunt’s hand. “It will be okay.”
Hattie leaned in and kissed Harper’s cheek. “I’ll see you outside. Don’t forget to put your mask on. Jackson is already downstairs waiting for you.”
Harper applied a little more lipstick and slipped on her heels. She put her mask on and tied it behind her head. It covered a good deal of her face and allowed Harper added anonymity, not that many people knew who she was anyway. But it was a freeing feeling.
She carefully walked down the stairs in her dress. Reaching the first floor, Harper saw Jackson waiting for her across the hall in the living room. He stood near the fireplace dressed in a tailored dark navy suit with a buttoned vest, jacket and tie. He had a crisp white shirt underneath and a striking copper metal Roman warrior mask. It had points at the top and looked medieval. Overall the look was striking, stylish and handsome.
As Harper entered the living room, Jackson didn’t take his eyes off of her. Harper knew men well enough to know what the look meant, but all he squawked out was, “You clean up well.”
Then he looked down at the floor and back up at Harper. He shrugged his shoulders and admitted, “I feel a bit foolish in this mask, but Hattie gave it to me and said it would be perfect. This isn’t how I’m used to dressing.”
“The mask is perfect for you. It’s masculine and rugged, and a bit jagged on the ends like your personality,” Harper offered with an overly sweet teasing smile. He could tease, so could she. It was true though. The mask fit him perfectly. She’d even go so far to admit he looked sexy, but she was never going to tell him that.
Instead, she admitted, “This isn’t a dress my father would have allowed me to wear.” She did a little spin and laughed, trying to break the tension. “I hope it looks okay.”
“More than okay,” he smiled. “You ready to do this? There are people out there already. If you want to bail and come back inside, I’ll make an excuse for your exit.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I think I’ll be okay.”
The two headed for the front door, and just as they were crossing the threshold into the evening air, a slight chill ran down Harper’s spine and a sense of dread took hold. She shivered. It was a fleeting feeling, passing as quickly as it came. Jackson raised his eyebrows at her, but she didn’t have a response. He offered her his arm, and she took it. Harper hated admitting it, but she felt good on his arm, comforted almost.
The big white tents covered nearly all of Hattie’s backyard. Harper saw a number of guests arriving, leaving their keys with the valet who would find places to park the cars in the local neighborhood and with businesses who had offered up their parking lots for the evening. Harper had been to more formal events and balls than she could count, but she had never attended a masquerade. Harper was enjoying seeing the colorful and intricately designed masks that the guests wore. Mardi Gras was apparently a much bigger deal in the south than she was used to in the northeast.
Jackson guided them into the tent, which was enclosed. While it was early March and the weather was warmer, it was still a bit chilly in the evenings. They weren’t in the tent five minutes when a woman, probably in her fifties if Harper had to guess, approached. She had on a tight gaudy pink dress that was so tight her cleavage came spilling over the top and a feathe
red pink mask. It was such a sight Harper wasn’t sure where to look.
“Jackson, you better save me a dance,” the woman crooned. She reached out her hand and ran it down Jackson’s chest. She shot Harper a nasty look as she touched him. Harper couldn’t help but smile at the audacity and ridiculousness of the woman.
Jackson took a visible step back from her. “Belinda, sorry, no dancing this evening. I’m here with my date. This is Harper. She’s new in town.”
Harper started to say hello but was cut off.
Belinda said sharply, “I know she’s Hattie’s niece. We don’t really need any more of her kind here.”
“My kind?” Harper inquired angrily. Jackson reached down and squeezed her hand. Harper looked at him in annoyance. She knew he did it to silence her.
“Witches,” Belinda hissed.
A sarcastic laugh escaped Harper’s lips. She looked down her nose at the woman. “I assure you, I’m not a witch. But I don’t think you should be here at my aunt’s home insulting her.”
Before the woman could say another word, Jackson pulled Harper away and to the other side of the tent. “Can’t have you getting in catfights already. You haven’t even been here a week.”
“Well, she shouldn’t insult my family.” Harper regained her composure. She wasn’t sure why she was so easily triggered. She’d never been in a fight in her life. She certainly wasn’t going to start now.
Once she calmed down, Harper looked at Jackson with disgust. “She was awful. Tell me she isn’t someone you’ve dated.”
Jackson’s laughed. It was a full belly laugh, too. Loud enough for people around them to look. “Absolutely not. Her name is Belinda Danvers, and she’s been in your aunt’s shop a few times, always looking to hex some poor guy. She’s tried to make a move on me before. That’s why I asked you to be my date, I needed a good cover.”
Saints & Sinners Ball Page 2