The thought made Sophia squirm with dread. What kind of malicious spirits would emerge from the sealed tomb once the front cover was broken? The same feeling of unease that usually assaulted her when she was inside the manor house pressed down on her psyche. Funny. She hadn’t felt the sensation of being oppressed as long as Collin was inside the house with his work crew. She had almost forgotten she’d ever experienced it, so caught up was she in her snooping around the front bedroom.
Fog had settled into the lower reaches of the swamp just beyond the cemetery, giving the scene a surreal quality. The tops of the cypress trees appeared to float on a sea of mist. The urge to run hit her hard. “Let’s go back to the house. This place gives me the creeps.”
A woman emerged from the fog only a few feet away from her. Sophia jumped as if she’d been bitten and pressed her hand against her chest. Collin stepped around her, putting his body between her and the woman.
The woman’s tattered clothes appeared somewhat modern, yet the woman had the aura of being ancient. Her eyes glowed bright in the semi-dark, and her mouth twisted into several almost inhuman shapes before she finally spoke. “No need to fear me. I ain’t a-gonna hurt ya.” She moved a step closer.
Sophia gasped her question. “Where did you come from?”
The woman pointed toward the swamp. “My place is down the bayou a ways.” She smiled. “My name is Chlotilde.” Her eyes shown with recognition when her gaze fell on Sophia. “I’ve been expecting you, child.” She shook her head. “You ain’t gonna find your man here. He didn’t come this way last night.”
“My man? I don’t—”
“Don’t fool yourself, girl. You and that man were made for each other.”
Sophia’s backbone stiffened. She didn’t need a stranger to poke her nose into Sophia’s business, so she pretended to misunderstand. “Collin and I…we aren’t together.”
“Not this man, although he’s a fine looking one. If I was younger, this ‘un wouldn’t be safe.” The old woman dared to cackle and wink at Collin. “No, girl. You know which one I mean.” Her expression suggested that Sophia was being silly or stupid. “When he comes around again, you should give him another chance before you lose him.” Her smile softened. “He’s your heart, girl. Don’t lose your heart.”
Collin coughed, and the sound echoed in the woods beyond them. “So you haven’t seen a man wandering around the woods hurt or out of his head or anything?”
“No, he hasn’t been this way, but she’s here.”
A creepy, crawly feeling wiggled up Sophia’s backbone. “Who’s here?”
“Why, Celia, of course. She’s been waiting for you to find her.”
Sophia pulled her failing courage together. “Where is she?”
“Open your eyes and look for her. You’ll find her. It’s in your blood.”
“What do you mean it’s in my blood?”
The fog seemed to roll back, opening a gap in the woods near them. A bright white mass formed in front of her, shimmering and swirling, until it took on the shape of a woman. Sophia’s mind churned into overdrive. So many new thoughts zoomed through her consciousness. Several women had claimed over the last hundred years to be Celia Wakefield. Which Celia had just appeared out of the fog?
Collin wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her toward the path back to the house. She resisted with all her strength, leaning away from him. With her other hand, she reached back toward the cemetery. Her heart knew before her mouth spoke. “Celia? Is that you?”
Nothing spoken. Just a soft breeze blowing across her psyche. Free me.
Sophia planted her feet. Collin’s pleading voice barely reached her ears.
“How?”
You know.
The light splintered and retreated into the swamp. The ghost and the old woman had disappeared, but Chlotilde’s high-pitched laughter could be heard bouncing off the cypress trees, pounding Sophia’s eardrums. Chlotilde shouted her warning from what seemed like a far distance. “Tell your man…Beware the curse.”
The darkness surrounding the cemetery became thick and velvet and almost touchable. Panic sunk its claws into Sophia’s psyche. Too much. It was too much to bear. A scream ripped out of Sophia, surging up from her deepest, darkest fears.
Collin swept her off the ground in strong arms thick as oak branches and rushed her up the path toward the house.
Chapter Fourteen
Dylan trudged up the drive toward the manor house. He’d been gone long enough. It was time to face the wrath of Sophia. The longer he’d stayed gone, the more he had harangued himself for staying gone so long.
Keeping his distance wasn’t going to change her opinion of him. If he ever wanted to make it up to her for the mistakes of the past, he was going to have to start by standing up and accepting responsibility for what he’d done, even if that meant taking whatever punishment Sophia dished out and begging for mercy.
As he approached the house, the sound of silence met his ears when he expected the ring of hammers and the buzz of saws. Had the house finally belched out Collin’s crew as if strangers had given it a bad case of indigestion? The whole bunch of them had acted skittish from the first day of work. Maybe something had finally spooked them enough they bolted.
He headed toward the trailer, bracing himself for whatever hard words Sophia might have been practicing for his return. He deserved every bit of her anger and disappointment in him. Even while he succumbed to Audrey’s blackmail, he had wondered if he was being foolish believing her. Sure, he’d taken the easy road. He’d been a coward. Afraid to stand up to Audrey. Afraid to confront Sophia.
Just as he reached the steps, Collin McVey pushed the door open. Before Dylan could react, Collin had slammed it shut behind him and dragged him away from the trailer. “Where have you bean?”
“You mean where have I been?” It always amused Dylan when Collin pronounced the word bean instead of ben. “Never mind where I’ve been? Where is your work crew?”
Collin’s eyes narrowed. “We finished laying your floor. They weren’t going to hang around just to be harassed.”
“Harassed? What do you mean?” He asked although he could probably guess.
Collin nodded toward the house. “My men start fights over nothing.” He snapped his fingers. “Hammers moving and tools disappearing. They’ve never been a bunch to throw a punch before. Jackie said Brian cursed him behind his back, and Brian said it weren’t true and called Jackie a liar. Now, Brian has a black eye and Jackie has a busted lip. I think the spirits are messing with them.”
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck where his skin prickled. “Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”
“They didn’t want to quit the job. You know how hard it is for these guys to find work.” Collin pointed toward the highway. “When you didn’t show up this morning, they all left. I couldn’t stop them, and I didn’t want to.”
Dylan understood Collin’s dilemma. “So why are you still here?”
“I stayed with Sophia while you were gone. She’s scared out of her mind.”
Dylan’s heart stuttered. “Why? Has something happened?”
“She chewed her fingernails down to the bone worrying about you. After the crew left, we went to look for you.” Collin made a noise of disgust. “We didn’t find you, now did we? But we did find the Wakefield cemetery and the old woman who lives back there in the swamp.” He pointed in the general direction.
“She said she’d been expecting Sophia and that finding some woman named Celia was in Sophia’s blood. That’s when everything went crazy. I swear we saw a ghost. It freaked Sophia out so bad she’s still shaking.” He punched Dylan in the chest with his finger. “You better have a good reason for disappearing. You should never make a woman mad when she’s got that much red in her hair. Never a good thing.”
Dylan suppressed a smile. Collin rarely strung so many words together at one time.
“She’s not gonna be happy with me.”
“No, I don’t think so.” With those words rising and falling on the breeze, the Irishman marched to his truck and drove away.
Dylan stared at the trailer door for a long time, digging deep for the courage to face her. Before he could twist the doorknob, she had flung the door open, nearly hitting him in the face.
Grasping fingers twisted into his shirtfront, yanking him toward her. She almost tumbled down the short set of steps as she leaned toward him with her face inches from his. “Where have you been?”
Irresistible. Even when the woman was spitting fire at him, he had the strongest desire to pull her into his arms. So he did, but she pushed him back with her fingers still wound in his shirt.
“No, no, no. I want to know where you’ve been and why you thought it was okay to leave me alone out here…at night…by myself.”
He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms, forcing even more distance between them in case she decided to take a swing at him. “I promise I didn’t intend to be out all night. Please try to settle down.”
Her eyes blazed with fresh anger. “Oh my God, I hate it when a man tells a woman to settle down. Like a woman doesn’t have a right to be mad when a man does something stupid. Like we lose the ability to reason or be logical just because we’re mad.”
Was she really trying to pull some sort of male versus female crap into the conversation? “I can see your upset.”
“Of course, I’m upset.” She practically hissed at him. Her mouth moved after that but no more words came out.
He drew in a deep breath before speaking again. “I walked down the road and found a path that led into the woods. I must have gone a half-mile or so when I saw a guy sitting on his deck in front of his mobile home. After I introduced myself, he offered me a cold beer. I was only intending to stay awhile and then head back.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “I just wanted to be gone long enough to let you cool down a little.”
She tightened her grip on his shirt. “Well, how long did you think that would take? Because you’ve been gone nearly all day.”
It was barely mid-afternoon.
“I guess I drank too much. I passed out on his deck and woke up there this morning. Bobby was too easy to talk to. He asked me about my woman troubles—”
“Your woman troubles? I swear to God you haven’t got woman troubles. Not yet anyway.”
“Maybe I don’t have woman troubles yet, but I can tell they’re heading at me like a hurricane.” He loosened his grip and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “So…you were worried about me? I can take care of myself, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed and shot darts of ire at him. “Sometimes you are so…so…irritating. Brandon Wakefield is out there somewhere. You might be able to take care of yourself, but Brandon won’t fight fair. Don’t be such an arrogant jerk.”
“I got the idea you didn’t care much what happened to me last night.”
She huffed and puffed, and he was certain she was ready to blow his house down. “I never said I didn’t care what happened to you.”
“So you still care?”
“Don’t twist my words, Dylan.”
Enough teasing her. She would never come around if he kept acting like a turd. “I’m sorry I scared you, but you can see I’m all right.”
“That’s it. That’s all you have to stay to me.”
The panicked look on her face sobered him quickly. She hadn’t yet told him anything about her experience in the cemetery. All of her upset had been about him being absent without leave. Had the fear of something happening to him scared her more than seeing a ghost? The look on her face fractured his heart. The last bit of his male pride shattered, at least that part of his ego that had to do with her and their ruptured relationship.
It was time to say what he needed to say. “Sophia… What do you want from me? Tell me what I should do to make things right between us again.”
She spluttered, unwound her fingers from his shirt, and pushed her hair away from her face. Her hands planted on her hips while she gazed over his shoulder presumably at the road behind him. She stood on the top step, giving her enough elevation to meet him eye to eye. When her eyes turned back to his, her expression had changed. Practically unreadable. Never had a look on someone’s face scared him so much. Not that her face was devoid of any expression at all. He just didn’t know what it meant.
Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. “If you ever, ever hurt me again, I’ll…I’ll…”
When he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t push back, but her back remained stiff. Maybe she wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he was making a mistake… His mouth hovered near hers for an interminably long moment. Did he dare kiss her?
“I swear I’ll never hurt you again. Not on purpose. I can’t promise I’ll never do something stupid, but I hope to God, the stupid things I do aren’t things that will break us apart. I don’t think I can stand losing you again. I think it would kill me.”
His mouth covered hers. At first, her lips were unyielding. Not like the night they’d pretended to lure Wakefield out. No, every bit of doubt and uncertainty she still harbored in her heart molded the stiff contours of her mouth. His heart nearly ruptured with disappointment until her lips softened. Her body curved into his, and before he could take another breath, he’d lifted her off her feet. Relief swept over him, and if he wasn’t mistaken, moisture formed in the corners of his eyes. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he thought he might die from the sheer joy of being with her again.
She pulled her head back just a smidgen and breathed sweet words into his mouth. “I’ve missed you so bad.” Then she tightened her hold on him. “Kiss me, Dylan. Don’t stop kissing me until all my anger is gone. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”
“I don’t want you to hurt. Never again.”
He began with her lips and trailed kisses along her jaw, behind her ear, across her brows. Savoring her until he thought he’d burst with his need for her. His hand reached for the doorknob behind her, intending to take her inside and finish what they started.
A car honk startled his intentions right out of him. Her legs loosened enough she almost slid down his legs. When she opened her eyes, planted her feet on the steps, and stared over his shoulder, she groaned. “Couldn’t they have waited awhile longer to show up?”
He twisted to find out who had invaded his happy moment. Jordan Clark smiled at him from behind the steering wheel. The guy’s timing had always been awful.
****
Dylan set a box lid heaped with boiled crawfish in the middle of the table. “Start shucking if you wanna eat.”
Sophia and Jordan dug into the pile and dropped a handful onto a paper plate in front of them. Chelsea kept her hands in her lap. Dylan glanced at her. Of course, she was hesitant. She had probably never seen a boiled crawfish before. Was her man really going to make her figure it out for herself?
Dylan licked the juice off his fingers and then pointed at the pile of red crustaceans. “Jordan, show her how to do it or else she’s gonna starve.”
Chelsea shook her head. “No, no. I’m okay. I’m not hungry.”
Sophia snapped the head off a tasty-looking specimen and dropped it on the table. “You haven’t eaten boiled crawfish before, have you?” With her free hand, she smacked Jordan on the upper arm, leaving a slight discoloration on his shirtsleeve in the shape of her palm print. “Show her how to do it. What’s wrong with you?”
Jordan already had a healthy pile of shucked crawfish shells in front of him. He held a crawfish in front of Chelsea’s face. “Okay, first you pick one up like this.” He pinched the tail between the fingers of his right hand and the head between the fingers of his left hand. “Squeeze the tail and yank the head off…like this.” The head separated from the tail, leaving a juicy piece of brain meat inside of the shell. “Now some folk suck the brains out of the head…” He demonstrated, making a slurping noise.
Sophia shuddered. “Aw, come on, Jordan. That’s just
gross.”
“Are you for real, Sophia? That’s the best part. It’s got the most fat in it. Absorbs the most crawfish boil.”
Chelsea’s eyes had grown as wide as two butter plates. “That’s…that’s…just…barbaric.”
Jordan dared to chuckle. Chelsea shot him a mean glare.
Sophia took up the tutorial. “The meatiest part is in the tail. Break it like this, and the meat comes right out. See?” She offered Chelsea the choice meat she had just extracted.
Chelsea sniffed the meat before she licked it. She studied it for a long moment before inserting it into her mouth. After she had chewed and swallowed, she collected a few crawfish and placed them in front of her, never uttering another word while she worked on her meal.
Jordan pointed at Dylan’s pile of empty shells. “I’ve shucked more than you have.”
“Don’t even. You know I’m faster than you are.”
Chelsea grabbed a paper towel and wiped her mouth. “How do you guys do that so fast? I’ve barely managed to eat…” She stopped and counted. “Ten. Just ten. How does anybody get enough to eat? This is a lot of work.”
Sophia smiled. “But isn’t it worth it?”
Chelsea shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on if I ever get full or not.” She lowered her head as if to hide her grin.
Jordan shifted and bumped shoulders with her. “I’m gonna turn her into a Louisiana girl.”
“Humph.” Chelsea kept working her meal.
When the box was empty except for a few fish whose tails had uncurled, Dylan leaned back and rubbed his stomach. “I haven’t had boiled crawfish in forever. That was good.”
Sophia rose from the table and dropped the remains in the black trash bag next to the open door. A cool breeze rustled the curtains on the window and played with the tendrils of hair around her face. The longing to be alone with her raged inside of Dylan. If only Jordan had waited another day to arrive.
The Unmistakable Scent of Gardenias (Haunted Hearts Series Book 6) Page 17