“Okay.” I found a couple of seats in the crowded waiting room nearest the door. I wasn’t going far—I wanted to know what was going on with my husband, and I wasn’t about to let it go. If they thought they could ignore Carrie Jo Jardine Stuart, they had another thing coming. “How did you know I was here?” I asked her.
“You’ll never guess. I got a phone call from Lenore. She told me to come here, that you needed me. Said if I didn’t get my ass up here, she’d haunt me the rest of my life.” She smiled and rubbed Baby Boy’s back as he curled his fingers around the neck of her vintage video game t-shirt. Her new pixie haircut suited her big dark eyes and soft-looking skin.
“You’re joking, surely.”
“I wish. I picked up the phone, and it was Lenore. I guess we’re not through working together after all. She says something big is coming our way and she wants us all to work together. Says she’ll be protecting us from her side, as much as she can.”
“Did she say anything about Ashland?”
“No, but she wanted me here, and both Mom and Gran are praying for you. You can’t imagine how many candles Gran’s lighting right about now.” She dug in her pocket, pulled out a piece of gum and offered it to me. I shook my head. “Don’t blame you. These things are nothing but sugar, but I keep them because I’m trying to quit smoking.” She rolled her eyes at herself.
“You? Smoking?” Squinting in disbelief, I reminded myself to refrain from passing judgment. To this day, I didn’t have the full story of what Rachel went through with Angus. Big Scottish jerk.
“I know, Carrie Jo. Heartbreak does strange things to us. Not that you know anything about that, right?” she said sarcastically. I could still hear the jealousy in her voice, but at least it didn’t make me flinch. “I’m sorry, CJ. You don’t deserve that. You’ve been nothing but good to me. I am doing something new, though, and I think you’ll be happy to hear it.”
“What’s that?” I asked with a small smile.
“I’ve joined the Brotherhood. They’ve approached me about finishing up the Idlewood project, and they promise to teach me so many things. I can travel the world, see interesting places.”
I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “David—I mean, Austin—warned me about the Brotherhood. Please be careful, Rachel.”
She leaned forward and looked me deep in my eyes. “I’m going to be like you someday, Carrie Jo. I want to be a dream catcher too. Nathan from the Brotherhood says I have the ability, but it’s dormant. Can’t you see that this would be a good thing? Now there will be two of us.”
“Oh, I am happy for you, Rachel. Never doubt it.”
“Mrs. Stuart, if you’d like to come back. Unfortunately, your son has to stay here.”
Rachel stood up and in doing so woke up Baby Boy. He fussed for a few seconds, but when he realized who held him, his little arms encircled her neck and he refused to let her go. Rachel’s tears at that moment were proof that deep under that thick layer of crocodile hide she’d wrapped around her heart, she could still feel. She nodded at me and whispered in my son’s ear.
“I’ll be right back, you two.” With one last look, I followed the tall, gray-haired doctor into a curtained room. Was I prepared to hear whatever it was I was about to hear?
In the words of my late friend Bette, not damn likely.
Epilogue—Carrie Jo
My husband looked so helpless lying on the hospital bed with the IV pumping fluids and medications into his body. But at least he was awake this morning. They’d be hauling him back to the operating room soon, and I wouldn’t see him. Maybe ever again. I sat in the chair beside him, laid my head on him and cried my heart out. The doctor hadn’t given us much hope last night, but I told Ashland about all the people praying for him, Jan, Bree, Rachel and Jan’s entire church.
“Well, if an entire church can’t make a difference, then there’s no hope for me.”
“Don’t say that, Ashland James.”
He reached for me as if to comfort me, despite the fact he’d been given a twenty percent chance of making it through this very complicated, very long surgery. We had a choice to take a Life Flight to UAB, but Ashland wanted to stay in Mobile. “I was born here, and I’ll die here, if it’s my time,” he’d said.
“Come on,” he said, touching my cheek. “I’m going to be fine, but I know you’re worried, babe. I know. It’s all right. It’s going to be okay. You have to be strong for Baby Boy, all right? He’s what matters right now.”
“No, you matter. I love you, Ashland James Stuart. I love you with all my heart. I am so sorry it had to be this way. I should have left the past alone. Then this would never have happened.”
“That’s bull, and you know it. These things happen sometimes, for no rhyme or reason. My doctors know what they’re doing, and they’ve got me on some pretty good drugs that keep the pain down as much as they can. At least I’m not forced to take laudanum twenty times a day. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill Lafonda with that stuff.”
“That’s what her father said too. Things got mixed up, the wrong person died, the wrong person got sick. I don’t know. This whole past and present thing is enough to make my head spin. I’m really sorry for all this. You must be wishing like heck that you had married a normal girl.” I considered telling him about Lenore’s phone call but decided against it. If Lenore was calling Rachel, chances were good she’d be visiting Ash soon too.
“I’m not wishing that at all. And I’m not sorry. Don’t you see, Carrie Jo? With the medicine they had back then, Lafonda would never have made it. She wouldn’t have. You said yourself that she died once already. This, whatever is going on with my brain, isn’t her fate. She’s not supposed to die from this. You read the records; she lived a long, happy life, in our house. We have to honor that and make sure that happens. I will not push this condition off onto someone else. It’s not right.”
“I love you, Ashland. I just love you. I’m so glad you’re back. I’m glad Max is gone for good.”
He smiled a goofy smile, the drugs relaxing him for the moment. As soon as they wore off, he’d be screaming in pain again. I prayed they could remove this clot and he would make a full recovery.
“Sorry…babe…” And he was gone to sleep. Soon the nurses were in the room, ready to take my sweetheart to the surgery, the one that was supposed to save his life.
“Ashland, come back to me,” I said as I watched him disappear down the hallway.
Rachel’s slender arm went around my neck. “It’s okay, CJ. He’s going to be just fine. I can feel it. You can too, can’t you, Baby Boy?”
He smiled and said, “Bob Bob!”
“Fine! Let’s go watch Bob Bob, you little miscreant.”
I watched them walk away into the waiting room and heard Detra Ann’s voice behind me.
“There you are! I can’t believe you didn’t call us! What’s wrong with Ashland?” She and Henri stepped off the elevator and charged toward me.
“Where did you two come from? Last I heard, you were in some sort of trouble.”
“We’re getting it worked out,” Detra Ann said, cocking an eyebrow at her husband. She took my hand and said softly, “About Ashland…what’s up?”
I filled my friends in on our current plot twist, and then she hugged me. “We’re not going to let you guys go through this alone. Whatever you need, just say the word.”
I wiped a tear away and thanked her. “You two have been such a blessing in my life. I can’t imagine how I’d get along without you. But tell me, because I need something else to think about…how are you, really?”
Henri answered in a sad voice, “We won’t be losing our store, thanks to my wife’s intervention. However, we are packing up our house and moving back to the store apartment, at least until we get the financial details ironed out. Do you think we could stay with you while we’re packing?”
“Of course! It’s not like we don’t have plenty of rooms. The more the merrier, I say. I see you have some bat
tle wounds there, Harry. They suit you.” I smiled despite my worry. Henri allowed only Detra Ann to call him Harry, but this morning, he didn’t seem to mind. “Ash made it fine through the night. Rachel is here, can you believe it? He’s headed into surgery now, so please send your good wishes his way. We need this to go right. My husband needs to come home.”
“I have known Ashland James Stuart nearly all my life, and he’s one of the strongest guys I know. He’s taken much worse head injuries than this. He will do just fine, I promise!”
I started to respond when I heard Detra Ann say, “Uh-oh.” A splash of water on my sandaled feet surprised me. I looked down and saw the evidence of Detra Ann’s water bursting on the floor.
“Uh-oh is right! Henri! Take your wife downstairs to the emergency room! You all are about to have a baby!”
“Good God! Keep us posted on Ashland!” Henri raced over and without another word scooped up Detra Ann and took off running for the elevator. If I didn’t have so much to worry over, I might have thought it was funny.
Just then, a hospital employee came over. “You must be Mrs. Stuart. Please follow me.”
“All right, but I think someone should clean that up first,” I said, pointing behind me at the pool of water on the ground.
“Leave it to us, Mrs. Stuart. We do this kind of thing all day. I’ve arranged for you to have a private waiting area. The hospital insists on treating Mr. Stuart with every courtesy. His father and mother are still remembered here at Springhill Memorial. Right this way.” She waved me to a wooden door that led to a small but comfortable waiting room. “Oh, and you have a guest. He says he’s a friend of the family.”
I walked through the doorway and saw a young man waiting for me. He stood up as I walked in and watched me studying him. Who was this person with Muncie’s face but my eyes?
“Muncie?” The question fell off my lips, but I spoke in barely a whisper.
No, he answered me without speaking. My name is Marcus.
Wait…are you a dream catcher too?
With a slow smile he answered me politely, aloud this time. “Yes, ma’am, I am. And from what I hear, it runs in the family.”
I settled into the leather chair across from him and didn’t even try not to stare. “Tell me what you know. Tell me everything.”
“From what the nurse said, your husband’s surgery is a long one. I think I’ll have time to tell you what I know.”
“And what is that? Do you know about Muncie?”
“Yes, I’m his relative—as are you.”
I smiled to hear what I’d always known. Henri had told me that so long ago, but I didn’t know what to do with it back then. Now I wanted to forget about the danger that Ashland was in. I had to. What better way than to hear about the past, my past, Baby Boy’s past?
“Are you ready to know what happened, beyond Seven Sisters?”
“Yes, please. I do want to know.”
“Very well.” He got up and moved to the seat next to mine, and we stared at one another for a moment. It was like looking into Muncie’s face, a real Muncie, not the ghost of him. Then Marcus hugged me tight, and I hugged him back.
It felt good to know I belonged somewhere. It felt good to know I had a history. And whatever that history might be, I knew I would be proud of it and it would be mine. With tears in my eyes, I leaned back and smiled at him. “Tell me everything.”
And he did.
Blooms Torn Asunder
Book Three
Return to Seven Sisters Series
By M.L. Bullock
Text copyright © 2018 Monica L. Bullock
All Rights Reserved
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the real Carrie Jo.
You’re out there, somewhere. I just know it.
All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.
We meet them at the door-way, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Excerpt from Haunted Houses, 1858
Prologue
Mobile, AL, 1881
Most girls in my social circle would have torn their hair out rather than wear the horrible yellow wedding dress my mother had selected for me. But I was not most girls. I was Memphis Overstreet Delarosa, wife of Jonatan Delarosa and future mistress of Seven Sisters. Donning the horrible stiff yellow dress with the cheap cream-colored lace at the collar and wrists did not diminish the victory I had achieved. What cared I whether I wore white, crimson or any color in between? Even the morning after, as the light of the rising sun poured through the windows of the overseer’s cottage, I had felt nothing but happiness and quite a bit of satisfaction. I, plain-Jane Memphis Overstreet, now Delarosa, had done the impossible!
Lying beside my sleeping husband all these months later, I did not care a whit about any perceived embarrassment I brought to my family. My mother’s refusal to dress me out in a white dress did not hurt my feelings in the slightest; she was only hurting herself. Not a soul besides our parents came to the wedding, for no invitations had been sent. Even my new sister-in-law was not present, which did upset Jonatan a bit. Only my parents, Jonatan’s parents and the minister were in attendance. I suppose making me wear yellow soothed my mother’s nerves. It made her feel important, as if by doing so she would hurt me, but she did not understand me at all and never had. All the money she had spent on my fine dresses, ridiculous painted fans, silly hair feathers and parasols—I never wanted any of them. But Jonatan…I wanted him with all my being. I would have walked down the aisle wearing a bees’ nest if necessary to marry him! The fact that he came with the most coveted home in all of Mobile was only icing on the cake.
From the first time I visited Seven Sisters, it felt like home. I belonged here. I should be the one who ensured that the rose garden bloomed perfectly. I should be the home’s overseer in every respect. I wanted to protect the fine wood on the staircase and keep the railings shining brightly. I, Memphis Delarosa, would keep the hallways swept and the chandeliers lit. I longed to arrange the precious treasures of her past in the alcoves and bookcases. I wanted that almost as much as I wanted Jonatan.
Jonatan was the man of my dreams, the only man I would ever love. And on his love, I could always rely. I was not such a great beauty as he; I did not delude myself into believing such a thing. Nevertheless, he would be true to me. My plain looks had caused my mother great disappointment over the years, but I was intelligent and loyal to a fault. Surely those things counted; they would matter to my husband. He would need me to protect him from the world. No, I wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the county—that award would certainly go to another—but I was the most determined.
I knew from the very moment he crashed into the ladies’ parlor at Seven Sisters chasing butterflies with Lafonda that Jonatan was different, like me. Not quite what he seemed. Oh, no doubt he was sweet and the most beautiful person I had ever clapped eyes on, but he had a simple mind—not that he wasn’t intelligent, in his own way. How amusing that my mother never noticed Jonatan’s differences. She too had been surprised by his beauty. But that I should be so moved by his handsome face and exquisite features was no more surprising to others than to me.
On the carriage ride home that first day, I told my mother that I would marry Jonatan Delarosa. She’d laughed at me, not in an openly cruel way, but she didn’t pretend to believe me. She patted my hand and said, “When the time is right, Memphis, your father and I will make a good match for you. A suitable match.”
I understood her veiled message: Jonatan Delarosa is far too beautiful for you, Memphis. If your sister, Ashley, had survived, she would have been suitable.
It was horribly sad ho
w we were not to mention Ashley’s name in Mother’s presence when I knew that my dead sister was all she ever thought about. She frequently rummaged through Ashley’s handkerchief drawer, sniffing the folded hankies and crying over them. All my sister’s gowns, even the new ones that she never had a chance to wear, were packed away in steamer trunks but remained in her rooms as if Ashley would one day reappear and go on a stylish vacation. On occasion, Mother would open the leather trunks and touch the garments like they were holy relics, but I refused to participate in such morbid sentimentality. Whenever these bouts of grief struck Mother, I left her alone with my sister’s things. She would emerge from Ashley’s rooms eventually, cast a disappointed glance in my direction and then go to bed for at least a day. Then she would join my father and me at the breakfast or dinner table pretending that nothing had happened.
Anne Overstreet would be the last person to believe I deserved such a beautiful husband. But I’d achieved my goal, even though I made a deal with the devil to do it. But then that devil, Max Davenport, died, murdered in Jonatan’s bedroom, no less. I did not have to guess who would commit such a crime. Jonatan never would. He cried once when he found a dead mouse in the cottage garden; he certainly was not capable of murdering another human being. And he loved Max, I think. There was only one person at Seven Sisters ruthless enough to commit murder—the current lady of the house, Jacinta Delarosa.
A fiercer woman I had never met, at least when it came to her children. With her dark hair, snapping black eyes and rigid frame, Mrs. Delarosa had an iron will, and rumor had it that her husband would deny her nothing. Like his son, Nobel Delarosa was amiable and friendly. I met him the day I married his Jonatan. Nobel was a fierce master at his shipbuilding business, but despite his wealth and beautiful children, there were whispers about him.
Foreign upstart. I heard he murdered his brother.
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