Mathias rubbed a hand across his chin and nodded. “I believe so. We’ve yet to test the theory to the fullest extent possible. We’ve certainly never traveled the entire breadth of the United States. But in the years following our deaths, the lads visited the homes of their relatives from time to time. Well, they did until they no longer stood on their foundations. Then, a few times during the War Between the States, we traveled quite extensively to assist the Union in their effort to keep this country united. Such is the cause for which we fought and died. Therefore we vowed to do all in our power to keep it the way our founding fathers intended.”
Jo’s mouth dropped in response to the revelation. “You helped the Union Army? How? Did you gather intelligence from the South and pass it on to the North, or just what?”
“We gathered information on several occasions,” Mathias replied. “But we discovered that it’s not always easy to get the living to hear us when we speak to them in our spiritual form. And we can’t just pop in on the officers and report our findings.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, most would run screaming out of their tents at the mere appearance of a ghost.”
“But, couldn’t you have just walked in, appearing to them as I see you now—as more—mortal looking?”
“No, that wouldn’t have worked either. We’d have to adhere to all military protocols. They would ask for our sources of information, the names of our commanding officers and such. And then one always has to worry about physical contact. The pat on the back, a hand extended in friendship or respect. So, no, we couldn’t appear solid.”
“That makes sense I suppose. Well then—” Jo cleared her throat. “What did you do?”
“During the course of the war, we discovered at various times, plans the Confederate army made to advance on the Union troops. Some of those times, the Union army didn’t have the strength of numbers needed to meet them in battle. So, we gathered some of our otherworldly friends, and sort of convinced the rebels to take an alternate route to their destination. Thus, we gave the Union army time to strengthen,” he said.
“And just how did you convince them?” she asked, wanting far more than just that.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope, sorry,” she said, giving an apologetic shrug.
“We simply obstructed their path.” He chuckled when she sighed in exasperation and then added, “By using some of the skills you witnessed today.”
Jo had to laugh as she envisioned some very determined Revolutionary War ghosts impeding the way of the Confederates. “Then what you’re telling me is that you purposefully scared the dickens out of the Southern army. Probably even made some of them scream for their mamas and run for home—”
The corners of Mathias’s lips twitched over her comments. “Some of them did, I suppose. Of course, Jed would have to take the credit for most of that, once he started with the war cries.”
“That reminds me, I’ve yet to hear Jed’s story concerning the Indians.” Her mind skipped to today’s “training exercises” and the youngest Ranger’s look of deadly concentration as he swung those tomahawks at his opponent. “Care to enlighten me?” she asked.
“I suppose I could start out by telling you that as a Methodist minister, Jedediah’s father spent a great deal of time preaching among the Indian people of New Jersey. He, along with his family, lived with them for a couple of years before coming to Pennsylvania,” Mathias said. “Jed developed a friendship with several of the lads in the Lenni-Lenape tribe. They made him an honorary brave and taught him all manner of skills, like hunting, fishing, tracking, and of course, the war cries.”
“Yet, for all that I think it such a shame that he lost his life, at such a young age,” Jo said. “He should’ve had the opportunity to get married and raise some children. In fact, you all should have.”
The notion gave her pause. None of the boys ever mentioned girlfriends, wives, or children. Yet, they might’ve left a family of their own. They certainly were of an age for such an occurrence. Did they find the subject painful to discuss? Yet, she found the idea of Mathias leaving a wife and children behind difficult to consider. Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why something that happened centuries ago should bother her now. Jo held his gaze before she added, “Or did you?”
“Did any of us ever get married? No, we didn’t. And now that you mention it, I don’t recall Jed ever talking about anyone in particular prior to his death. That’s not to say he didn’t have his eye on a couple of young women while he lived. He just didn’t take the time to pursue them, given the circumstances of our time. Alexander probably got closer to getting married than anyone else, but unfortunately, his woman died of smallpox before the scheduled ‘I do’s’ could take place.”
“Oh, how sad! Tell me about her,” Jo said. As she settled a little deeper into her chair and waited for Mathias to continue his narrative. She truly loved hearing him speak. He possessed a wonderful voice, and his unique accent must have been common during his lifetime, at least within his community. After all, she detected the same inflection in Sam’s voice.
“Charity Jenkins, daughter of John and Abigail Jenkins, was the youngest member in her family. I remember her being a tiny little thing, big blue eyes and blonde hair, always a bit frail, though. She possessed a sweet, gentle disposition. Everyone loved her. Unfortunately, she and her mother contracted the illness, after nursing some of their afflicted neighbors. They both died within a week or so of each other,” Mathias said. “Their deaths devastated everyone, of course. But most especially Alex, as I’m sure you can imagine. I don’t think he ever fully recovered from her death.”
“And Sam?” she asked, wanting to hurry past the sorrow that filled his eyes. Her question returned his smile.
“I’m not so sure if Sam had lived to the ripe old age of one hundred, he would ever have found one woman in particular to settle down with. Sam loved all the ladies, often and well, but he never lost his heart to any of them.”
Soft laughter accompanied her nod. “I can accept the truth of that statement. Samuel Fraser is an outrageous flirt, no doubt about it. So, what about William, did he have anyone special?”
“I’m certain William would’ve found someone eventually. But during his life, something always precluded him from courting anyone for any length of time. One woman after the other would tire of waiting for him and find someone else. Then the war started,” he said as his voice trailed off.
“And—what about you?” Once again, Jo held her breath while she awaited his reply.
Mathias gave her his full attention then. His gaze bore into hers. He sought something, but she couldn’t guess. Nonetheless, the look in his eyes at this moment fanned the embers that had settled into her belly. Finally, he spoke.
“I never found anyone special—while in my mortal state,” he said.
His answer pleased her. “Oh,” however, was all she could think to say in return. Should she add, “Gee, that’s too bad” when she truly didn’t feel that way? She opted to say nothing more.
“And you?” he asked.
The question caught her off guard. How could she explain what she herself could not? She clasped her hands together, laid them on her lap, and toyed with her fingers. The intensity of Mathias’s gaze compelled her to form an answer. “I guess I’m still waiting around to find the unique kind of love my parents shared. I’ve yet to find it.”
He considered that for a moment before he said, “If it isn’t too painful, I’d really like to hear about your parents. We’ve never talked about them.”
Jo put a hand to her mouth as countless memories flooded her mind. “Oh, I wished you could’ve known them, Mathias,” she whispered past the lump forming in her throat. “And really, it’s such a shame they didn’t get the chance to meet you and the boys. I think they would’ve loved you all. My parents—Edward and Florence Michaelsson—are two of the finest people who ever walked th
is earth. They had such a deep abiding love for each other and for each of us kids. I just wished they could’ve stayed with us a little bit longer than they did.
“But—several years ago, a terrible car accident took both their lives. They died almost instantly they say.” Jo managed a short, quiet laugh before she added, “And not surprisingly, they were found holding hands. So, believe me when I tell you that for them, they could’ve asked for nothing finer than to exit this world together.”
Mathias understood her sadness. Despite the fact he departed mortal life first, he took great comfort in knowing he could still remain with his family and watch over their daily interactions. During his sojourn, he witnessed their joys, and provided them a semblance of comfort during their moments of sorrow. Even though they remained ignorant of his presence, it hurt when each of them, one by one, left mortality and him behind. And one day, for one reason or another, Jolena would leave him as well. Unfathomable pain accompanied the notion.
“Mathias?”
Her voice cut into his thoughts. The expression on her lovely face verified she understood his mood, even though she couldn’t know the cause. She extended a hand toward him, in an obvious desire to provide some kind of comfort. Then seeing the impossibility of her actions, she drew back at the last moment. Would that she didn’t have such a restriction.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said as she tucked her wayward hand into her lap.
Mathias responded with a quiet chuckle he hoped masked his torment. He appreciated the intention of her gesture, regardless of outcome. “Nothing to apologize for. I appreciate the fact you cared enough about my feelings to make the offer.”
Her discomfiture faded. Curiosity took its place. She carried that same expression when she first learned of his existence.
“You have a question,” he said. “Go ahead and ask it.”
“Mathias, would I feel anything at all if I touched you—without trying to go through you, that is? I know a spirit lacks solidity. But, while growing up along the coast of Oregon, I had no difficulty feeling the moisture of an early morning fog, Yet, I could still go right through it. I just wondered if I tried not to pierce your form—”
Mathias raised his hand in silent invitation. As he did so, he recalled the times when inadvertently one of his previous tenants walked straight through him, and he could feel the sensation of the passing. Yet, he never stopped to consider whether they could feel anything in return.
Jolena spread her fingers, mirroring them with his. They looked so small in comparison. Nevertheless, he twined his fingers around each one of hers first, and then for several minutes she traced the outline of his entire hand. She presented him with a dazzling smile as she did so.
“I can feel you. The sensation is hard to describe, it’s kind of like—like soft down feathers when they barely graze the skin, with just a touch of cold—um—crispness. Or maybe the sensation feels more like thin strands of cool silk with a touch of early morning dew. Then there’s just a hint of something else I can’t quite put my finger on— Oh, I know I’m doing a horrible job of explaining this. But really, there aren’t any words to describe it. Can you feel me?”
“Yes, I can. But likewise, I have no words to express how it feels when I touch you. I can tell you it’s a very pleasant experience.” A true enough statement and nothing more needed saying.
She smiled in response to his words and dropped her hand into her lap.
“So,” Mathias said, breaking the lengthy silence that followed, “do you have any more questions or experiments you’d like to conduct?”
She studied him for a moment, took in a breath, and then said, “Just one question. I don’t know if you remember this or not, but right before I left on tour, Sam said something. I didn’t understand what he meant by the comment and it has nagged me every day since.”
“Really? What did he say to you?” he asked.
“He didn’t say anything to me. I just overheard the comment.” She lifted a single shoulder and then said, “His remark had something to do with the timing of my trip. He said it worked to your advantage or something like that. What did he mean?”
Mathias suppressed his surprise. He had no idea she had overheard the remark and he’d rather not reveal the answer if he could help it. Despite his wishes to the contrary, she gazed at him intently, waiting for an explanation. But just then, as if the heavens understood his reluctance, a shooting star blazed across the sky, and he drew her attention toward it.
“Did you see that?” he asked.
Jolena gasped her delight as a second one followed the first. “Yes, I did,” she said. “Both of them.”
“You know, when we were kids, Sam and I had a neighbor lady who used to insist that every time a shooting star lit up the sky, it indicated that someone had died. She said it was their soul shooting toward heaven—or hell as the case may be,” Mathias said, hoping to shift the topic of conversation.
Jolena laughed as she set the rocking chair in a steady, slow motion. “Really? That’s funny. When we were kids, we always believed hell was way deep down in the ground somewhere, not up toward heaven. Deep, dark holes used to terrify us for that very reason. Kay and I used to think that if we weren’t careful, a devil would surface and yank us in.”
Several more shooting stars made their way across the sky, each more vibrant than the one before. All the while, he avoided her previous question by guiding the conversation elsewhere. Finally, Jolena smothered a yawn.
“I’m so sorry, Mathias,” she said, “I would love to stay out here with you all night and look at the stars. But I’m finding it very difficult to stay awake now.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” he replied. “Hopefully there will be many such evenings ahead of us.”
She looked puzzled by the comment. “What do you mean, hopefully?”
“Well, I don’t presume to know what your ultimate plans for this house are.” He shrugged and folded his arms against his chest.
“Plans? I don’t understand.”
“Well it seems not everyone keeps a house for an entire lifetime anymore,” he said. “Isn’t it possible that one day, you might want to sell this house and move somewhere else?”
“Sell my house? Are you crazy?” She sat upright in her chair and glared. “Why would such a notion even cross your mind? I fell in love with this house the minute I laid eyes on it. As you very well know, I put hours and hours of hard physical labor into restoring it. Part of me is in this house, and now part of this house is in me. No, Mathias, I will never sell it. This is my home, and just so you know, I intend to die here. How could you possibly think otherwise?”
Mathias tried very hard not to laugh over her indignation. He lifted a hand to appease her wrath. “All right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you all riled up. I can think of many possibilities for such an event, you know.” Like marriage to some doddering fool, he muttered inwardly.
“Well, there aren’t any circumstances I can think of,” she said. “I finally have a place I belong, and I’m staying right here until the day I take my last breath.”
Mathias touched his heart as he gave a nod. “I’m relieved you feel that way Miss Michaelsson. However, I truly hope you aren’t planning to die anytime soon.”
Jolena shook her head and fixed her gaze to his. “No, I’m afraid not. You’re just going to have to put up with me for years and years to come. You’re going to have to watch me get old and crotchety, and probably even senile in my dotage. People will stop by for a visit and think I’ve gone quite insane as I carry on the most amazing conversations with my furniture, because by then, I simply won’t care what people believe.”
Mathias chuckled in response to the imagined scene. “You? You’re going to get old, crotchety, and senile—hmm. Well, in that case, I think I’m going to have to hang around. I certainly wouldn’t want to miss the expression on everyone’s face when you hold those amazing conversations with your furniture.”
Jolena laughed and dipped her head to the side. “Well, let’s hope you don’t get your first taste of what that’s like during Nancy’s visit should I forget and speak with you in her presence. After all, my dear sweet sister would probably have me committed.”
Chapter 9
“Does everything look all right?” Jo halted just as she stepped past the archway and entered the family room. She took in every detail, looking for something she might’ve missed.
“There’s nothing else that needs doing, I promise you. Everything is immaculate,” Sam said yet again. “So stop fussing. Just go upstairs and tidy up a bit before they arrive.”
William sent a wink toward Sam and nodded. “That’s right, go up now and get yourself all prettied up. Your family hasn’t seen you in quite a while. Right? You don’t want them to see those dirt smudges on your face and wearing dirty clothes. So, go take your shower and change into something pretty, like that pale blue dress you wore to the summer barbeque. You look very lovely in that one. We can take care of everything else down here while you freshen up a bit.”
“Everything else?” asked Jo as she attempted to wipe away smudges that probably didn’t exist. “Did I miss something?”
“You’re going to want something nice playing on the stereo when they come in aren’t you?” He flashed a grin and leaned toward her. “It won’t take me but a moment to line up several of our favorite songs. We could have them playing one right after another with no interruptions of any kind, I guarantee it.”
“Don’t you dare, William Ferguson,” Jo gasped, feigning horror. “Despite our upbringing to the contrary, Nancy has never been a fan of Deep Purple or Foreigner, and she would surely think I had lost my mind if “Juke Box Hero” blared from the stereo the minute she walks through the door.”
“How about a little bit of the Beatles, then? Everybody likes them, right?” asked Alex. “Maybe we could put on ‘Come Together’ or perhaps ‘Revolution’ would be a more appropriate greeting, all things considered.”
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