Chelsea Lane (Haunted Hearts Series Book 5)

by Denise Moncrief

  Never had Chelsea felt such a strong connection to another human being.

  She finally understood why Jordan had searched so hard for his sister. He had to make things right with her, so Chelsea spoke for him, as if she had seen straight into his soul. “It’s okay. He’s not angry with you. He’s just sad that you’re gone.” She paused and listened to the voice whispering in her heart. “I’ll tell him that you forgive him. You can leave. Go get your rest. I promise I’ll never forget. I’m gonna live the rest of my life trying to keep this from happening to other women.”

  And she meant it. Somehow, someway she’d find a way.

  Nothing audible met her ears, but Kristie communicated with her as if they were alone and having a normal conversation. It was as if no one else existed.

  He’s the one.

  The trembling began in Chelsea’s hands, raced up her arms, centered in her gut. “What do you mean?”

  You need him.

  She had no doubt the ghost of Kristie Godchaux was referring to her brother Jordan. And she had no doubt that Kristie was right.

  Promise me.

  “Promise you what?”

  Never leave him.

  She couldn’t lie to the ghost. In that moment, the truth swelled from a deep place inside her until it burrowed into her heart and soul. She didn’t want to leave Jordan. But was that her choice? He had a mind of his own, and maybe he didn’t agree with his dead sister about a woman who had a past association with murderers, thieves, and drug dealers.

  The face zoomed toward her. The voice roared in her head. You owe me. Promise me.

  Her whispered answer fell from her numb lips. “I promise.”

  Fingers dug into her upper arms and shook her. The light coalesced into a bright orb and drifted toward the ceiling until it disappeared. Then, it was as if her eyes were opened for the first time, and she envisioned what a normal life might look like…with Jordan.

  He was shaking her hard, yelling at her. Courtney stood behind him, fear plastered all over her face.

  “Chelsea, wake up.” Jordan’s anxious voice penetrated the miasma that had seemed to envelope her.

  Tears swelled in her eyes, and for once, she let them fall uninhibited. “I promised her.” She gazed into his eyes to see if the promise was okay with him, but he didn’t seem to understand what she meant.

  “Promised her what? Promised who?”

  “You didn’t see her?” That scared her more than the experience.

  He glanced back at Courtney. She shook her head as if dazed and bewildered.

  “You spoke to her.”

  Courtney’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. It was as if my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth.”

  “It was as if you were in a trance. You started freaking out and speaking in a language I’ve never heard before. You scared the hell out of me.” Jordan did appear shaken.

  Chelsea spoke to Courtney. “She went to the light.” She was so grateful to the woman for being there, for voicing what she had felt in her heart but couldn’t express.

  “You mean Kristie?” Hope rang in Jordan’s question.

  She nodded. The words she needed to say couldn’t make it past the emotion clogging her throat.

  “What did you promise her?” Jordan asked with a catch in his throat.

  She couldn’t say it. Not yet. She stared at him, mute and incapable of deflecting his curiosity. Trapped, on the verge of revealing something that might crush her if she let it slip past her lips and out into the atmosphere.

  “Chelsea, what did you promise her?”

  Self-preservation struggled with her conscience. He deserved to know. Kristie was his sister. He needed to know why Kristie was finally able to make the transition to the afterlife. Chelsea had to give him something, if not the complete truth.

  “She wanted to make things right with you before she left. She said she forgives you, and she wanted you to forgive her. She knows you didn’t mean the last thing you said to her.” That wasn’t exactly what Kristie had said, but it was what she meant, simplified and succinct.

  Jordan’s face clouded with pain.

  Her heart ruptured for him. “She didn’t want you to be alone.”

  His eyes brightened with understanding. “So she’s not worried about me anymore?”

  The connection that Kristie had forged between Jordan and her scared Chelsea more than anything ever had. “I had to make the promise. That was the only way she would leave.” Now Chelsea had to keep her promise. “She’s depending on me.”

  Jordan brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. His husky voice massaged her battered psyche. “Thank you.”

  The admiration reflected in his blue eyes nearly slayed her. She didn’t want him thinking too much of her in case she did something to disappoint him, which was entirely possible. It amazed her how one stupid mistake had led her to a life that was beyond her control. Now that she had the ability to take back her life, she was scared of all the possibilities.

  Shaw burst through the open door. “Are ya’ll okay?” He addressed the room but focused on Chelsea.

  “Sort of.”

  Chelsea blinked at him. He must have seen something. The pale pallor of his face suggested what he had seen had frightened him.

  “What did you see on the monitor?”

  He shivered. “It was kind of freaky.”

  Interesting. He could have chosen a multitude of words to describe the ghostly encounter, but freaky seemed to be the only word he could manage. Chelsea didn’t think she’d ever seen the man tongue-tied.

  “I want to watch the recording.” She didn’t know if she really wanted to or not, but she felt compelled to do so. The request slipped past her lips sounding more like a demand.

  “Are you sure?”

  When had their roles reversed? Chelsea felt a surge of confidence, and Shaw Bennett seemed uncertain. Had the world flipped upside down or something?

  She nodded and stood, headed for the door. She had to watch the feedback before she changed her mind. After the recording finished playing, she wished she hadn’t insisted on viewing it.

  ****

  Jordan fell back in his seat. The recording had just finished playback and he was stunned. “I saw none of that.”

  Courtney whispered her recollection of what had just happened. “I had no idea that was happening. That’s not what I saw.”

  Shaw wiped a hand over his face. “I’m surprised the video picked it up.”

  “What did she say to you, Chelsea?” Jordan expected an answer, a truthful answer. Chelsea hesitated and he sensed her reluctance. “Can you two leave us alone a minute?”

  Shaw made a noise like he was going to argue, but then wrapped his hand around Courtney’s elbow and pulled her toward the door.

  When they were alone, Chelsea broke down in tears. The intense emotion she generated tugged at his heart. Kristie had clearly said something that either wounded Chelsea or terrified her. Maybe both. She put up such a tough front, but behind the tough exterior she had a tender heart.

  She wiped her cheeks hard with the palm of her hands and sucked back her sobs. “I don’t know why she would ask that of me.”

  He waited for her to continue, giving her time to talk herself into telling him whatever it was she didn’t want to tell him.

  “She made me promise that I wouldn’t leave you.” She shook all over. “I don’t know why she’d make me promise something like that. It’s not really up to me, is it? I mean…how does she know you’d even want me around?” She emitted one more sob. “But you understand, I had to promise her. I had to. It’s the only way she would go. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to stay any longer. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I just wanted her to find some peace. That was the least I could do for her. You understand, don’t you?”

  “So you told her what she wanted to hear?”

  She nodded.

  “I
see.”

  He studied the curve of her mouth. The upward tilt of her nose. The stringy brown hair that would probably be pretty if it had a nice cut and style. The determination mixed with uncertainty flickering in her hazel eyes. Her soft voice belied the rough life she’d lived. The woman had steel in her backbone. Most women would have given up long ago and given in to despair.

  Chelsea was a fighter. She’d survived a lot. Been brutalized and minimized and pushed into doing things no decent human being should ever have to do. Still she hadn’t collapsed or dove into mental oblivion. She’d done what she had to do. How many people did the same thing? Only their circumstances were less harsh, less abnormal. Should she be judged because her circumstances were harder? She needed psychological help, not condemnation.

  He’d known for a long time he needed someone in his life. He’d pushed the desire down into the deeper reaches of his soul during his quest to find his sister, but now that he’d found Kristie, her ghost was confronting him with his loneliness. Still, he would have never chosen Chelsea to be the one.

  “Jordan, why aren’t you saying anything? Why are you staring at me like that? You’re scaring me.”

  He must have allowed some strange expressions to traipse across his face if she had a look of abject terror on hers.

  “You can keep your promise to Kristie.”

  A smile lit her face and for the first time he thought the woman was beautiful.

  “Really? I mean, you have a choice.” She seemed to search his face as if afraid he wouldn’t understand her meaning or that he might change his mind. “But I don’t. Not really.”

  Oh, he got it. If he told her to get lost, that would let her off the hook. She would have at least tried to keep her promise to his sister. But he wanted her to stay around until he knew how he felt about her. Too much was going on. Too much to distract them. Their lives were too unsettled. It wasn’t wise to form an emotional relationship in that kind of dysfunctional environment. Yet here they were. It seemed they were pushed together by forces beyond their control and drawn together by emotions they didn’t have time to dissect.

  He wished with all his heart they’d met in another time and another place.

  “I’m going to stay with you until I know you’re not in danger any longer, and if things happen between us before that happens, then we can talk about the promise you made to Kristie.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Until then, you owe it to her to do what you promised, and I’m going to make sure you keep your promise.”

  Strong emotion surged within him, that very emotion he needed to define. He hadn’t intended to, but he leaned forward. She met him halfway.

  The kiss was sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced, and he knew the answer to the question that hung over them. He was never going to let Chelsea out of her promise to his sister. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Not until she was ready to hear it. He wanted her to want it as much as he did.

  How could he explain that to her? His feelings for her didn’t even make sense to him yet.

  ****

  It was a four-hour drive from Fairview to Fayetteville, but Brett made the trip in record time. His truck had barreled down the four-lane highway, breaking all sorts of speed limits. For once, the Highway Patrol had been absent.

  He punched the button on the elevator that would take him to the top floor where Amalia had been given a private hospital room courtesy of the state of Arkansas. Of course, the immigration service had chipped in for the private babysitter. Brett didn’t know how he was going to get past the guard at Amalia’s door, but he’d figure that out once he got to her room. Shaw Bennett had asked around until he found out where she was, but beyond that he couldn’t pull any strings to get Brett on the approved visitors list.

  It wasn’t difficult to locate her room. The guard leaned back in his chair on two legs looking bored out of his mind. Brett approached him, presenting a demeanor as non-hostile as possible.

  The legs of the chair hit the vinyl, and the guard gave him a what-are-you-doing-on-this-hall glare. Brett ran his fingers through his hair and tried to act as casual as possible. It was hard for him to come across non-threatening. He was, after all, taller and bigger than most guys.

  “Look…” He stopped several yards away but close enough to be heard. “I know you can’t let me see her, but can you give her a message for me?”

  The immigration dude blinked as if he hadn’t heard Brett right.

  Brett put on a bit of desperation, just for show. “She’s my girlfriend, and I know you guys are sending her back. I may never see her again. Can’t you do a guy a solid? I’m not asking to see her. Just give her a message. That’s not breaking any rules, is it?”

  The guy didn’t budge in his stare down.

  “What if she was your girlfriend?”

  That didn’t seem to set well with the man. Condescension and disrespect flitted across his face. He was probably the kind that would never become involved with a foreign national. Or anyone that wasn’t his skin color. Or ethnic group. Actually, he could picture the guy with a Confederate flag do-rag on his head. What kind of person had the government put in charge of Amalia? She was just a broken woman. If she could escape their clutches, she probably wouldn’t even have the energy to try.

  “Okay, fine.” He walked away muttering to himself. Words like reporter and ACLU and discrimination.

  The immigration agent called to his departing back. “What’s your message?”

  Brett turned, and to his utter amazement, he managed to squeeze a tear out of his eye. “Tell her I love her, and that I’ll never forget her. Tell her I’m sorry I let them take her. If we hadn’t had that fight…”

  He amazed himself at what a con artist he was. Still the man didn’t seem to care about his pretend romantic predicament.

  From behind, a voice interrupted their non-conversation. “Don’t be ridiculous, agent. Allow the man to see his girlfriend. It’s not like she’s going anywhere. She can barely walk.”

  A moment of confusion flickered across the agent’s face. “Sure, doctor. I’ll give him two minutes.”

  He stepped back, and the doctor pushed past him and nudged the door open with his shoe. “She’s weak, so only take a few moments.”

  “Hold up a minute.” The guard made a show of searching Brett for weapons.

  He grunted his derision at the agent’s lame security measures. Brett could have taken the guy if he’d been so inclined.

  When the door closed behind him, he faced the bed. The dim glow from the lone backlight behind her bed cast shadows across her face. Amalia blinked and opened her eyes. A magnificent smile spread across her face.

  He was at a loss. How could he communicate with her? He had driven all the way to see her without a plan.

  “I know you don’t understand me, but maybe you can get what I’m saying.” He dared to place his hand on her head. Her hair was so soft. Someone decent had washed it for her.

  He was pleased that she didn’t flinch at his touch. Her eyes told him that she recognized him.

  She nodded. “I speak little English.”

  “Oh, you do.” He smiled.

  She held her thumb and index finger centimeters apart. Her smile would have provided power for the entire city of Fayetteville at that moment.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am…okay.”

  Relief surged through him. Since the moment Ashley Rivers had released her and she’d left Fairview in the back of an ambulance, Brett had not been able to get his mind off her. Even while he was watching Haskins’s house from up in the tree, his mind had strayed to the dark-eyed woman.

  He doubted if she was okay. The kind of treatment she’d endured…it would take a long time to recover from that.

  He pulled a paper from his pocket and squeezed it into her hand. “My address. Where I live.”

  She glanced at the paper and nodded as if she understood.

  “When you get to Mexic
o…”

  Her happy expression disappeared.

  He made the motion of writing. “Write me a letter. I will come to Mexico to find you.”

  She shook her head. “No. No.”

  He placed his large hand over her small one, the hand that held the crumpled paper. “Yes. I will come to you.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You are kind man. You come to Mexico…” She shook her head harder. “Not good.”

  He released her hand. No more words made it out of his mouth. The guard had stuck his head through the door.

  “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.” Brett left with one glance backward.

  His last glimpse of her weary smile melted his heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was the middle of the next day before Brett arrived back at the cabin to find Jordan and his sister sitting a little too close on a glider on the deck.

  His sister tore into him the moment she set eyes on him. “Where have you been? Don’t bother lying to me, Brett. I know you didn’t go back to the farm because I called the house twelve times and you didn’t answer.”

  He hadn’t seen her in years, but he still remembered how pissed off she could get when things didn’t go her way. She had a streak of their Grandpa’s temperament running through her. What could have been so important that the need to locate him was that urgent?

  Honesty was probably the best policy.

  “I went to Fayetteville to see Amalia.”

  Chelsea…he’d never get used to thinking of her by that name…simmered down quickly. “Oh. Is she okay?”

  “She’ll recover. They’re sending her back to Mexico, and she’s scared of going back. I can tell.”

  “I thought she couldn’t speak English.”

  “She spoke enough that we understood each other.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “She always pretended she didn’t understand any English.”