She was gone.
Noah stood in the garden watching heavy purple and yellow blooms sway in the soft morning air. He gripped his coffee cup, clinging to it because there was nothing else left on which to hold. Not even the plantation. Margaret had left it to some sort of preservation group — a puzzling move considering she'd spent a small fortune updating and modernizing it. A visitor hoping for a glimpse of life in the eighteen hundreds would be sorely disappointed by the state-of-the-art amenities, but perhaps the grounds and outbuildings would prove to be a bit more suitable for tourists.
Even though the rumors regarding the deed to Hawthorne Manor hadn't been true and Noah wasn't granted the keys to the estate, Margaret had been more than generous with him, his father, Gil, and Abigail. Aside of leaving a small stipend for the house, Margaret split her fortune between them. They each had more than enough to start over, to leave Hawthorne Manor and its secrets and ghosts behind. After putting up with Margaret's demanding nature, the windfalls had arguably been well-earned. More importantly, they were much appreciated.
All that was left was goodbye.
"Found them car owners."
Noah glanced up, startled, to see Gil standing next to him. He hadn't heard the gardener approach.
The old man shuffled his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Even in the sweltering Louisiana summer, Gil stayed true to his uniform of overalls and long sleeve button up shirt. "They were hitchhiking. Said the car darn near drove itself to the estate. As soon as they got it stopped in the driveway, they hit the road and hoofed it. Don't even want the thing back."
"Is that so?" Noah hid a smile. "You know what they say about these old places. They all have ghosts."
"Mmph." Gil leaned down to pluck a weed from alongside a stone set on the ground. "Spirits. If we got any here, don't reckon they'll rest easy with old Missus Hawthorne barking orders. Can't see her leaving this place even now — especially not if that granddaughter of hers is still hanging around." He reached to brush the granite, his fingers lingering for a moment before letting go. "Terrible way to go, falling from such height. From what I hear, the old woman's spirit was dead and gone the day they lowered that child's casket into the ground."
"I think you're right, Gil." Noah couldn't vouch for Margaret, but he knew he'd lost a great part of his own being that day. They — whoever they were — said time had a way of healing old wounds, but it didn't seem much for erasing what his heart knew. Still, he'd been given his second chance.
Noah had found peace.
He knelt before the grave and took in the words, just as he had a thousand times before.
Emma Grace Hawthorne
Beloved granddaughter of Margaret Gray and Doyle Hawthorne
October 20, 1983 - June 30, 2001
A light breeze rustled the landscape, and with it came a breath of closure a decade in the making. Ten years had passed, but finally he sensed Emma Grace was free. Saying goodbye.
"I love you, Emma Grace." She wasn't around to hear the words, but he said them anyway. Then the wind curled around him, carrying the scent of honeysuckle, and his heart swelled.
Maybe she'd heard him after all.
About the Author
Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her.
She loves creating unforgettable stories while putting her characters through an unkind amount of torture — a hobby that has nothing to do with living with six children. (Really.) Though she adores nail-biting mystery and edge-of-your-seat thrillers, Sarah writes in many genres including contemporary and ghostly paranormal romance. To find out what she’s up to now, please visit her website.
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