Chapter Fifteen
Emily opened her eyes and realized that the light coming through the window wasn’t quite right. Suddenly she sat up in bed. It was nine o’clock! She had never slept this late. She scrambled for her clothes, not bothering with a shower and ran straight up to the office.
Rebecca was sitting at her desk working on a novel. She looked up as Emily came through the door.
“You look terrible! Go back downstairs and do something about it.”
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I didn’t take time to clean up.”
Rebecca laughed. “I can see that. You’re going to feel awful the rest of the day if you don’t go take a shower and put some makeup on. I can spare you for a little while.”
“I’ll work later this evening.”
“That’s not necessary. We aren’t on a strict time table. If you need extra time, just ask.”
“Oh, today is the day I’m going to go see Mr. Connelly. The long lunch, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. Just go get cleaned up and come back and work a couple of hours. Then you can go see him. Do you need to take the rest of the day off? There’s not really that much that I need you for today. Why don’t you just work until lunch time, then take the rest of the day off. That way you won’t feel rushed if you and Jarrod really get into some interesting history.”
“Thanks, Rebecca. I really appreciate that. I can’t wait to talk to him.”
Emily took a quick shower and worked until 11:30. Then she borrowed one of Rebecca’s cars and went into town for her lunch appointment with Jarrod Connelly. They were supposed to meet in a little café in the middle of town.
She walked into the Waterfront Cafe and looked around. She spotted Jarrod Connelly at a table by a window. She went over to him and he stood up as she approached.
“Hello, Mr. Connelly. I’m so glad you could meet me today,” she said, shaking hands with him.
“Please, call me Jarrod. I was so happy that you called. I don’t get to talk about history as much as I used to. People don’t seem to be as interested in the past as they once were.”
“I’m very interested in the history of the McCulloch house. I hope you will have some things to tell me.”
Jarrod smiled. “I definitely have some information. But first, let’s eat. Then we can discuss our business.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I woke up late this morning and didn’t have any breakfast. So I’m starving!”
“They have a great Swiss and bacon quiche here. And no, it’s not true that real men don’t eat quiche!” he said.
Emily laughed. This man was a lot of fun; this was going to prove to be an interesting day.
After they finished their quiche, Jarrod pulled out some papers from his briefcase.
“I have all the information on the house in these papers. However, I would like to discuss everything with you, then let you read the papers on your own when you get home.”
“Ok, that sounds good. So what can you tell me about the McCullochs and the house they lived in for two centuries?”
“Well, to start with, the first McCulloch to live there was Gregor McCulloch. He came over here from Scotland in 1801 with his family and built the house. For the next 200 years or so, McCullochs have always lived in that house. Rebecca Winslow was the first person to own the house who wasn’t part of the family.”
“That house is really old, isn’t it? It held up well.”
Jarrod smiled. “Those old stone houses last forever. The inside is all that’s really changed.”
“I’m interested in some things that may have happened about 150 years ago. Anything about forbidden relationships or tragedies. I have these letters and journals that I found and I’m really intrigued by them. I was hoping I could find out some things about these people. I don’t know who they are. Also, I have found some paintings. There are a lot of landscapes, but also there is a picture of a woman and another picture of a man. The woman is wearing this ring that I have on my finger. The painting of the man says that it’s a self portrait.”
Jarrod looked at the ring on her finger. “That ring is a love ring. That type of ring was common in this part of the country during that time period. Just around this part of Maine. Usually it meant a betrothal, or at least a profession of undying love.”
“I thought it might be something like that. I think maybe the man and woman in the paintings were lovers.”
“Let me see those letters and the journal.”
She handed them over and he looked through a sampling of the letters and flipped through the journal.
Emily pointed out the last entry in the journal and the letter with the latest date. “Look at this. Something bad must have happened. Not only is it obvious by the contents of the writing, but also, it’s odd that there are no more entries after that.”
“Well, I think I may be able to shed a little bit of light onto this mystery. In 1850 there was a scandal concerning the family. There was a McCulloch that was engaged to a young lady whose family and the McCullochs were friends. She was staying at the house at the time. The young lady started acting strangely and her fiancée started wondering what was wrong with her. She was jumpy all the time, and pale….”
“Wait a minute. How can you know all this?”
“There are a lot of journals and legal documents from that time. People kept journals a lot back then, so the stories can be pieced together from other people living in the town. Also, there was an inquiry into the events…wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“I’m sorry. Go on with your story.”
“Anyway, this young lady was acting strange. Then, in late October of that year, the tragedy struck. The young man was found dead upon the rocks right down below the house. I think there is a stone path that leads down there from the garden.”
Emily’s face went pale at the mention of the path that she had walked on so many times. “Go on.”
“There was some kind of head injury, but the official cause of death was drowning. It was thought that he must have hit his head and was knocked unconscious. Then he fell into the water and drowned without regaining consciousness.”
“Was it an accident?”
“That’s what the inquiry was about. The young lady was seen with him the evening before, walking down the path from the garden. However, no proof was found that she had anything to do with his death, and she swore he was alive when she saw him last.”
“Do you have any idea what their names were?”
“Let’s see, the names are here in these papers. Ah, here it is. The young lady was Bridgett MacKenzie and the young man was, let’s see…yes, Patrick. Patrick McCulloch.”
Emily thought the floor was going to drop out from under her. The room started spinning and she saw spots before her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor and there was a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. Jarrod Connelly was hovering over her, a worried expression on his face.
“Are you alright, Emily?” asked Jarrod.
“Yes, I think so. What happened?”
“You fainted. You gave me quite a fright, I must admit.”
Then everything came back to her. The story that Jarrod told her was what triggered her fainting spell. She felt her stomach tie up in knots and found it hard to catch her breath.
“Emily, you’re turning pale again. What’s wrong?”
“Jarrod…I can’t tell you right now. You would think I was crazy.”
“Young lady, I have lived on this earth for over 75 years. I don’t think there is anything you could tell me that would shock me.”
“Oh, I think this might.”
“Why don’t you give it a try? What harm could it possibly do to talk to me about this?”
“Well, you might just have me committed to the psychiatric ward of the hospital.”
Jarrod frowned. “Why don’t we go back to my house? You can relax there and maybe you will feel like telling me what is going on. If not, at
least you may start feeling a little better.”
Emily agreed to accompany Jarrod to his home. They rode together in his restored 1957 light blue Chevrolet. The car just seemed to suit him.
They arrived at a modest but pleasant looking one-story house about 2 miles from the café where they had eaten. He led her through the foyer and into a cozy room with a fireplace and two big comfortable chairs. He made sure she was settled into one of the chairs, then he made a pot of Earl Grey tea.
Emily took a sip of the hot tea and felt the warmth seep through her body. She had seemed to pick up a chill, and she didn’t know whether it was the October weather or the shock she had gotten in the café. In any case, she was grateful for the tea and the kindness of Jarrod Connelly.
“Alright, young lady, suppose you tell me what’s going on. Why did you faint in the restaurant? And why do you believe that I will think you’re crazy?”
“Oh, Jarrod, it’s the craziest thing! And it may be a complete coincidence, the name being the same. But it all seems to add up now.”
“What, my dear? Don’t be afraid to talk to me.”
Emily felt a weight lift off of her as she began to tell the older gentleman about Patrick, and the events surrounding the two of them. And what she now felt like was the real truth.
“Jarrod, it all makes sense. I always felt like he had feelings for me, but then he would suddenly do a complete about face. Then he told me later that there were reasons we couldn’t be together and how he was protecting me. He said I wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. And the way he just seemed to appear out of nowhere. I thought that he was just good at sneaking up on me. Because I was daydreaming a lot when I was at the rocks. But now I see that maybe he was just…I don’t know…materializing.”
“Emily, are you trying to tell me that you think this Patrick you have met is the same Patrick that lived 150 years ago?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I know it sounds crazy and I could be wrong, but it just all fits together!”
“Do you really believe in ghosts?” he asked.
“I never did before. I never even entertained the possibility of ghosts. You either go to Heaven or Hell. No roaming the earth because of unfinished business. But now I think I believe it. I can’t explain it, but I believe it.”
“Hmmm. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility. I like to keep an open mind about things. This time I’m having to open my mind a bit wider than usual. But I’m not saying it’s not true. It does seem to make sense.”
“I need to talk to him! I really need to find out if it’s true,” said Emily.
“And then what will you do? You said you had feelings for this man. And you also seemed to think he had feelings for you, although he had a funny way of showing it sometimes. So now that you believe he has been around for about 150 years, what do you think your relationship could possibly be?”
“I don’t know! I just know that I can’t just go on not knowing. He kept saying that we couldn’t have a relationship. This must be why. He thought I would freak out if I knew the truth. I can’t blame him for thinking that. I’m sure most people would have trouble being as calm as you and I seem to be about this. I wonder if there is any possibility of a relationship between a live person and a ghost.”
“Emily, are you listening to yourself? Do you really think that you can just be with him as if he is a normal everyday person?”
“No, I guess that isn’t possible. But I can touch him. He feels as real as you and me. So why can’t we be together?”
“He’s a ghost, for crying out loud! How can you even entertain the idea of having him as a lover?”
“I don’t know, Jarrod. I’m so confused. I’ve been in love with him for awhile. Now that I know, or at least suspect, that he’s a ghost, my feelings haven’t changed. It hasn’t changed who he really is. He’s been the same person all along. I just have to look at things from a different perspective.”
Jarrod sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing, young lady. I don’t feel comfortable about this at all.”
“I’m not real thrilled with this situation myself. But if I really and truly love him, and I believe I do, then I have to accept whoever and whatever he is.”
“You really are a remarkable young lady, Emily. I wish you the best of luck, whatever you decide to do,” said Jarrod.
“Thank you. I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on. Please, Jarrod, don’t tell anyone about this, ok?”
Jarrod laughed. “Who would believe me anyway?”
Chapter Sixteen
That night, after dinner, Emily walked down the path to the rocks that were so familiar to her. She knew Patrick wouldn’t be there. He had said that he wasn’t coming there any more. She had to find some way to contact him, but she had no idea where to start. A séance? No, that was ridiculous. She didn’t believe in séances anyway. Of course, before today, she hadn’t believed in ghosts either!
She walked dejectedly along the rocks. She went down a little farther than usual and found a place where the rocks leveled out and there wasn’t such a drop off. She was able to get down to the water there. She sat down and trailed her fingers in the water, thinking about Patrick. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t care what he was or how old he was. She still loved him. All this time she thought he was playing around with her heart, building up her hopes then tearing them down…he was really trying to protect her. He probably thought she would be repulsed by the fact that he was a spirit being.
She took her hand out of the water when her fingers were so cold she could barely feel them. She got back up and starting walking back down the shore again, more and more questions coming to her mind. She wondered how they were able to touch each other. How could ghosts be corporeal? Emily just wished Patrick would appear to her now. All he would have to do would be hold out his arms to her, and she would gladly let herself be enfolded into his embrace.
“Oh, Patrick, where are you?” she cried.
She walked until she was freezing. The night had fallen and it was very cold here by the water. She started back to the house. Clearly, Patrick didn’t really live anywhere near here, so there was no need to go farther, looking for his house. He had just told her that so that she wouldn’t think it was odd for him to be here. How many other lies had he told? But the lies were to protect her from knowledge that he thought would scare her. Did that excuse the lies? Should he have told her the truth all along? She thought so, but she could see why he wouldn’t.
When she got back to the house, she went straight to her bathroom and took a long, hot shower. She couldn’t remember when she had been so chilled. Most of it was the cold weather, but some of it was the strange world that she finally found herself in the middle of.
After she got out of the shower, there was a knock at her bedroom door. It was Sam.
“Hey, gorgeous, want some company?”
“Sure. I would be glad to have you.”
Sam grinned. “I wish that were true!”
She smiled at him. “Very funny!”
She had forgotten how much fun it was to be normal for a change. Sam was like a breath of fresh air after all the craziness that was going on in her life.
“What have you been up to today?” he asked.
“Well, I saw Jarrod Connelly today. He gave me some information about the history of this house. It was quite interesting, really.” That was an understatement.
“So, did you solve your mystery? I know you’ve been wondering about the letters and journals. Rebecca said you found it all intriguing.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did find out some interesting things.”
She told him about the young lovers and the misfortune that had befallen them. She, of course, left out the fact that she was in love with one of the characters in the historical account.
Sam frowned. “You still didn’t figure out who the letters were being written to. I’m assuming the letters were written by the girl whos
e fiancée died. But who wrote the journal? And did that affair figure into the tragedy? Did the two people who were engaged to each other quarrel over her indiscretion? Did she kill him because she had a lover and he confronted her with it? There are still a lot of unanswered questions.”
“Wow. I didn’t even know you were interested in any of this!” she exclaimed.
“I write detective novels, remember? I always love a good mystery!”
They talked for a long time and speculated about what happened. Little did Sam know how important the answers were to her! She had to talk to Patrick. There had to be some way to find him.
* * *
Down in the basement, Emily was staring at the picture of Patrick. She felt a longing in her heart that she couldn’t suppress. The longer she went without seeing him, the more she wanted him. This picture was definitely Patrick. How could she have thought that those sapphire eyes could belong to anyone else?
She put the paintings of the two lovers side by side and studied them. These two people were both very attractive. How could this woman have betrayed him with another man? Patrick was by far the most desirable man she had ever met. She could just look at him and her body burned for his touch. What other man could have caused this girl to want someone else besides Patrick?
She sighed as she thought about what had happened to Patrick 150 years ago. Why was he still here? Did he remember what happened to him? She had read about ghosts before and how they wandered the earth when there was unfinished business. She didn’t know if that was true or if it was just speculation. She needed to find someone who could help her know the truth about ghosts and why they were here. Maybe Jarrod would know of someone she could talk to. She wasn’t sure he would help her because he didn’t really approve of what she wanted. But he would probably help her anyway because he really liked her and wanted her to be happy.
A Rocky Path Page 8