As the brakes gripped the rails, the train’s momentum began to slow amidst the squeal of metal on metal. And as it slowed, it began to shake and shudder beneath Ashlyn’s feet. But what riveted her attention was the conductor. He had also started to shake, impossibly fast it seemed to her. Then she realized he wasn’t so much shaking as flickering, as though he were here on this plane, but just barely. Another dimension had a grip on him. He flailed against it, as if beating back unseen demons of his very own.
Then the whole train began to flicker. It had almost stopped now, the screech of the brakes fading. Finally, it shuddered to a complete stop. The train was flickering so fast now, Ashlyn’s stomach pitched sickly. One second the train’s deck was beneath her feet, and the next she felt suspended in nothingness above the empty rail bed. And the conductor’s face! As he screamed soundlessly, agonizingly, his reality flickered from the full-fleshed conductor Catherine Brennan would have recognized to the flashing white bone and sinew and sunken red eyes Ashlyn was familiar with. Then, in an explosion of light, he was gone.
Then the train itself was gone, and Ashlyn was falling through the air.
It was only a couple of feet, but it was like stepping out into midair without making the conscious choice to do it. One moment, the train was beneath her, and the next she was falling. It was just good luck that she landed on her feet, albeit with a spine-jarring jolt. Instinctively — maybe those breaking moves Hoopz had tried to teach her were finally paying off — she bent her knees deep, then went with her momentum in a forward roll.
She came to rest some distance west of where she’d landed, and oh God, everything hurt. Her back, her knees, her ankles, her left hip, her skinned elbows. But nothing hurt badly enough to drown out the other injuries, which probably meant she was all right. She flexed her ankles and knees successfully, and then sat up. She was shaky, rattled and skinned up, but everything worked. Nothing was broken.
That’s when she spotted Caden running toward her. He was coming around a bend in the tracks, laboring hard, and she realized he must have been chasing the train from the moment she climbed onto it. He’d let her go to face her destiny, but now he was coming after her.
“Caden!” She climbed to her feet.
He stopped, obviously seeing her for the first time when she stood. “Ashlyn? Omigod, Ashlyn!”
Then he was running like he had wings. Like he hadn’t already covered miles of track at top speed.
Ashlyn started running toward him, her pains forgotten. Her chest was pumping for air by the time she reached him, and she couldn’t begin to imagine how much his lungs must hurt, how badly his muscles burned. But it didn’t stop him from catching her in his arms and lifting her off her feet in a bear hug.
“Oh, Ash, you’re all right! You are all right, aren’t you?” He let her feet touch the ground again. “Oh, God, say you’re all right.”
Standing on shaky legs, she clung to him, panting and laughing and crying. “I’m better than all right. I did it! The train is gone, Caden. I pulled the emergency brake and the train’s brakes locked, and then it started shimmering and shuddering until it just … disappeared.”
“And the conductor?”
“Same thing. He just flickered like crazy when the train stopped and … well … sort of shorted out in a big explosion. And Caden, he was terrified! His soul was definitely going someplace he didn’t want to go.”
“Good.” His arms tightened around her and she felt the hard shudder that went through him. “Oh, God, Ashlyn. I was so scared.”
Ashlyn’s throat tightened as she returned his fierce embrace. Then his mouth was on hers and she tasted the salty taste of tears. His, hers.
Blindly, she kissed him back with an answering desperation. His hands swept her body as though to assure himself she was unbroken. Then they raked over her again, this time with unmistakable carnal purpose, and Ashlyn responded.
For long moments they surged against each other, sliding, building a sweet, sweet friction. Then he slid his thigh between hers and gripped her butt to pull her tight against him, and she thought spontaneous combustion was a real possibility. She wanted him now. Right now. She wanted him to pull her down right here beside the tracks in the ultimate life-affirming act. And so lost was he to this tumult of emotion, she knew she could have her wish. All she had to do was not stop him.
Which was why she pulled away. He’d been the strong one for her all along. Surely she could be strong enough for both of them this one time.
He didn’t exactly let her go, but he loosened his grip to allow some space between them. She looked up at him, and because she knew it was there in her face for him to read, she said, “I love you, Caden Williams. I’m not sure when it happened, but there you go. And I’m not saying that just so you’ll have sex with me.”
He choked out a laugh. “That’s good. ’Cuz I love you too. So much it feels like my heart could burst with it.”
“That’s the running,” she offered helpfully, and he laughed again. “Seriously, I know you love me. I could feel it. When I was on the train, when the conductor was trying to get me to take a ticket, I swear I could hear you saying that.”
“Oh, baby, I was saying it, in my prayers. All I could think was I love you, come back to me. And you did.”
He kissed her again, but Ashlyn drew back reluctantly. “We’d better get back. Rachel will be going crazy with worry.”
He straightened. “Oh, crap. Yes.”
They jogged back, not at the breakneck pace Caden must have set for himself, but an easier, more sustainable pace. Even so, they had to stop every half-mile or so for Ashlyn to catch her breath. But when they rounded the last bend, Caden caught her hand and drew them to a stop.
“It’s okay. I’m good to keep going,” she panted. “We’re almost there, aren’t we?”
“Look,” he said pointing down the tracks.
The shades! They were all milling around the area where they’d left Rachel.
Had they started escaping the train the moment Ashlyn pulled the brake, and just drifted back to congregate there? Or had they, when the train disintegrated, just automatically materialized at the very spot where they’d boarded?
And what was that stuff blowing around? Some sort of litter fluttered around in the moonlight. They looked like bits of paper….
“Tickets! Oh, Caden, those are their tickets!”
Caden laughed. “They’re free,” he said. “Finally free.”
Then one of the shades broke away from the others and started making his way toward Ashlyn and Caden.
Patrick Murphy, still clutching his ticket.
Ashlyn’s stomach clenched.
Her father was coming down the tracks to meet her.
Chapter 21
“IT’S HIM.” ASHLYN COULD feel the tears on her cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them away. “Oh, Caden,” she quavered. “That’s my dad.”
“Go, babe. You’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“Only my whole life.”
Ashlyn took off in a jog toward the figure coming toward her down the tracks, while Caden lagged a respectful distance behind. Patrick still held the ticket in his hand as he walked toward his daughter. He hadn’t been blasted straight to hell like the conductor had tried to make her believe would happen. He was here. Right here, standing before her as Ashlyn drew to a stop.
Patrick Murphy looked very … real. He’d been just the shade of his soul on that train, but here, now, he looked somehow more substantial. More … person-like. Not fully flesh, but less translucent. There was color to his complexion. Depth to the curls in his hair. A definite sparkle in his brown eyes.
And though Ashlyn knew she couldn’t reach out and touch him, under the bright and full moon of the October sky, she could see him clearly. She felt incredibly blessed to have that much. He looked just like his yearbook photo, right down to that crooked smile that now warmed her heart. His eyes were filled with affection, and yes, tinged with fatherly pride.<
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“You’ve got your mother’s eyes,” he said.
“And … your chin.” Ashlyn stammered. “Mom always said I had your chin, and I can see it now.”
Even as she said the words, she was thinking, My God, he’s just my age.
Patrick Murphy laughed. “You … you remind me so much of Leslie.”
“The Caverhill green eyes,” she acknowledged.
“More than that.”
Ashlyn wet her lips. “Is that how you knew I was your daughter? Because I looked so much like Mom? Like she used to look?”
Patrick shrugged. “I’d know you anywhere, baby girl.”
“You never met me.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re mine.”
Tears ached in Ashlyn’s throat. Years’ worth of lonesome welled up inside and spilled out with her words. “Then … then why did you leave me? Why did you get on that train all those years ago? Why did you take that ticket out? Away from me? Didn’t you want me?”
“Oh, Ashlyn.” His warm brown eyes filled with pain. “I wanted you more than I ever wanted anything. Right from the start, from the very moment Leslie told me she was pregnant. You were mine then. There was no question about keeping you. Never. I didn’t get on the train to get away from my responsibility. I wasn’t trying to get away from you. Never from you.”
“Why did you do it then?”
“I got on the train to save you.”
Ashlyn stumbled a step backwards, then steadied herself as her world whirled around. She’d been so sure her father had taken his life because of her. But now….
But now she didn’t know.
“Ashlyn,” he said. “The radio—”
“You can hear the radio?”
“No, but Leslie always could. We had no secrets between us and whenever she heard the radio, we went downstairs. She repeated every word, sang every song that the radio played, so I could hear it too.”
“Maudette let her listen?”
“Well … not exactly. Maudette was working at the bank. I’d walk Leslie home every day after school. She’d invite me in and we’d — er, study.”
Ashlyn grinned. Right, study.
Some things never changed.
“That radio told us so much,” her father continued. “Accidents about to happen, football games lost or won. My father was up for a promotion, and we knew he got it before he did. And before Leslie even suspected she was pregnant with you, the radio told us you were a girl.”
“That must have been scary.”
“Not at all. Your mother and I, we knew we loved each other. Knew we wanted to marry and have a family. Even as we sat on those basement stairs that very day the radio told us you were on the way, we started picking out names. I was the one who wanted to call you Ashlyn. The name fit you somehow even then. My God, it fits you now.”
She wet her lips. “It’s Ashlyn Patricia.”
Patrick smiled. “Leslie named you after me.” Her father drew a deep, deep breath, as if the night air was the first he’d pulled into his lungs in … a lifetime. Her lifetime. “Despite how elated your mother and I were, our happiness was short lived,” he said. “The radio started telling us other things. Your mother hesitated as she repeated the words to me, and I knew she was scared. But still, she told me everything that the radio said about our baby. About you, Ashlyn. About your future. Your fate.”
“What did it say?”
“It sang of you. It sang of the little green-eyed girl growing up and—”
“Let me guess,” Ashlyn interrupted. “She’ll get on board the train, and her life won’t be the same.”
“And the conductor would be there to greet you when you came.” Patrick shook his head. “I knew the legend of the ghost train. And the conductor. Everyone around here did. I … I couldn’t let that happen.
“Leslie swore we’d fight this fate. We’d move away from Prescott Junction and never come back. We’d leave the state. The country! Heck, we were even ready to head to Australia. That was our plan. And we thought, absolutely, we’d do whatever we had to to make sure you were safe.”
“But the radio didn’t let up,” Ashlyn said. “The lyrics didn’t change.”
“No, it kept singing how you’d get on board the train. Even as we packed. Even as we planned how we’d get away. The song kept repeating no matter how we tried to change the fate. I didn’t know when you’d board that train, Ashlyn. But I knew if the conductor wanted you bad enough, he’d pull you to him someday, somehow. No matter how far away Leslie took you. And I knew I had to be there for you when he tried to. I had to get on board myself, so I’d be there--”
“To save me.”
“To save you.”
Ashlyn’s eyes filled with tears. “But why did the conductor want me so badly? I’m nothing special.”
“Ashlyn Caverhill with the Caverhill green eyes. Everything started with your great-grandmother. I don’t even think she knew how powerful of a psychic she was. But it was her powers that made Prescott Junction a place where the train would always return. It’s in your blood Ashlyn. In your genes. Probably as rare as that shade of green in your eyes, but every bit as real. And when the radio sang to Leslie of how the train could only be stopped at the end of the line, Leslie didn’t want to believe it. But I had to. That meant you. You were the conductor’s only threat. If you hadn’t stopped him, nothing would have. He needed for you to take a ticket. Lure you in. I had to board the train. I had to be there. If ever you needed me, baby girl, I had to be there.”
Caden came to stand beside Ashlyn, slipping an arm around her automatically. Then he snatched his arm back, as though suddenly realizing the young man he was standing before was her father.
Ashlyn bit down on the giggle. Caden actually looked older than Patrick Murphy. Or at least he would have if he weren’t looking so nervous.
She drew a breath. This was it. She was finally going to introduce a young man to her father. It would have to be the introduction of a lifetime.
Maybe it would be.
“Er … Dad?”
He smiled widely at her use of the dad word. “Yes?”
“This is Caden Williams. My boyfriend.”
Ashlyn held her breath as Patrick raised a scrutinizing eyebrow and looked Caden up and down. It struck her then that her father had been stuck on that train for 18 years, while society’s mores evolved. If Caden’s family constituted the majority of the black population in Prescott Junction today when a black president led the country, how foreign and frightening would the prospect be for her father? On the other hand, he would have shared that train for 18 years with Caden’s great uncle’s shade….
Patrick’s gaze returned to Ashlyn. “Is he good to you?”
She smiled tremulously. “The best.”
She moved close to Caden’s side, sliding an arm around his waist. He put his arm around her again.
“Then he’s all right by me.” With a shrug, he gestured to Caden. “I’d shake your hand but….”
“No problem, sir. I want you to know … I really love your daughter.”
Ashlyn squeezed him closer.
“You’re standing on these tracks with her,” Patrick said, “tonight of all nights. You must love her.”
With tear-misted eyes, Ashlyn watched her father turn his gaze upward, toward the stars that sparkled — surely just for him. He drew another breath, this one deeper still. A look of complete peace came over his face. Of glowing calm. Of soulful rest. “I’ve got to go, baby girl.”
Ashlyn felt a tug down inside her heart. She wanted to beg him to stay. Just for tonight. Just for a little while longer. Just for … forever.
A tear slid anew down her cheek as she watched the rapture on her father’s face. “Thank you. For saving me. For warning me. For getting on that train all those years ago so you could be there for me tonight.” She drew a shaky breath. “For loving me.”
“I’ve always loved you, baby girl. And I always will.”
Caden wrapped his arms around Ashlyn and they both took a step back, but she couldn’t take her eyes off her father. Suddenly, and with a whoop and a great laugh, Patrick threw his ticket up into the air. It turned in the bright night, then just disappeared. Joy overflowed from Patrick Murphy as his shade slowly ascended. Then slowly disappeared.
“My dad loves me, Caden.”
“He always has.”
Ashlyn slid her hand into Caden’s, wiping the happy tears away as they walked silently up the tracks. The empty spot … the father-shaped one she’d carried for so long, didn’t seem that empty now.
“Oh, wow! Look!” Caden said. They’d just stepped onto the train bridge, and the station was just coming into sight.
“More souls!” She laughed. “More free souls!”
She and Caden raced to the station. Hundreds of shades wandered around the tracks, the station yard, even along the platform before them.
As her father had, many simply marveled at the night. Some of them smiled or laughed out loud. Some of the shades embraced each other.
A couple of them — what had to be young soldiers judging by their clothing — were standing beside Rachel. Rachel was raising her hands to them in what could only be construed as a ticket-throwing gesture. All at once, they understood. And it was a peaceful look that claimed the soldiers’ faces as this troubled girl showed them how to throw their tickets away.
“Omigod … it’s Gramps!”
It was Caden’s turn to dash away now, and Ashlyn could barely keep up as he ran toward the station. When he jumped up onto the platform, she hung back, just as he had when she met her father. She felt tears welling again as Caden approached an elderly black man — obviously his grandfather, Davis Williams — standing alongside the tracks. The elder Mr. Williams looked a little confused and very tired. Oh, but he looked joyous! For he watched the shade of a tall, straight-backed young soldier marching directly toward him.
The shade stopped a few feet from Caden’s grandfather, and there was a moment of absolute recognition, and then one of pure elation.
“James!” Davis exhaled the words on a sigh. He raised a shaking hand. “You … you’re—”
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