Heartbeat Echoes

by Brittany Yeats

  As Anna turned and flounced out of the room, she had already started to make plans on how to reverse her daughter’s outrageous behavior.

  “Well, that wasn’t anything I wanted my mother to know. Grace, can you do me a favor and run to the nearest place that sells boxes? I need probably about two hundred of them. Mostly garment and shoe boxes.” Melissa beamed a smile at Grace, knowing Grace would be rolling her eyes the minute she was out of Melissa’s eyesight. Grace didn’t approve of Melissa’s department-store-size wardrobe.

  As Grace walked from the room, Melissa turned to her desk. Filled with mountains of papers and books and all assorted types of random items that Melissa didn’t know where else to put. To Melissa’s mind, now was as good a time as any to clean it out.

  The desk was a twin of the big gorgeous mahogany in her father’s office. A present he gave her after he found her sitting behind it so many times. Her mother had tsked, but Melissa had been overjoyed to share yet another thing with her father. It had seven drawers in total. Melissa figured it was the best plan to start at the bottom and work her way up. She opened the bottom-right hand drawer and finally realized that she might just have too much stuff. The drawer was crammed to the brim with papers and journals. The books were all blank. Something that made her wonder if her life had been about nothing? Settling down with a garbage can and the availability of all the time in the day, Melissa began to sort and play the fun game of save or toss.

  Four drawers later, Melissa was ready for lunch. She decided to take a break when her hand hit the bottom of the now empty drawer and instead of the solid thunk of wood, she heard the hollow sound of empty space under the bottom of the drawer. Melissa reached to the back of the drawer and found a latch. She unhooked it and the false drawer bottom popped up. Under the wood were more papers and a journal.

  They were yellowed with time. Melissa opened the first journal gently. It was the date that caught her eye. The year said 1871. The handwriting was fancy looking, like a lot of schooling had gone into making sure the writing was always extremely neat. Melissa took everything out from the drawer and carried it to the window bench. Forgetting all about her stomach, she sat and began to read about the past.

  Her heritage was not as prestigious as she had thought. There were letters, between her great-great-great-grandparents from when he was away on business and his wife missed him. The words were flowery and sweet. He wrote back even more sweet and loving words. Their feelings for each other made Melissa thaw a little toward marriage. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she had thought. Pushing her own worries aside, Melissa kept reading. As the letters went on, Jillian, Melissa’s great-great-great-grandmother began to write of the house feeling haunted, as if something was inside the walls, or under the ground. It mirrored how Melissa felt, as if there was something off about the land and the house. Melissa read James’s, her great-great-great-grandfather’s response, curious about how angry the words on the paper sounded. He wrote of how insane Jillian sounded and made her swear that she would never speak of these things to anyone. The letters ended after that conversation.

  ~ ~ ~

  Daydreaming, it took Jillian Yard several minutes to realize Edwards, the very dependable, yet sometimes crabby, butler was softly calling her name. She turned from the window and was taken aback by the usually composed man looking frazzled. Jillian smiled sheepishly.

  “I apologize, Edwards, my mind seems to want to do nothing but wander on this beautiful day. What seems to be the matter?” She had not yet rung for luncheon, wanting to wait for James to come home from town, and Jillian patiently waited for Edwards to explain his presence. Loath to further disturb his mistress with a happening he personally found rather odd Edwards cleared his throat and stepped father into the room.

  “Pardon my interruption, my lady, but there is a young woman here requesting an audience with you. I was quite insistent that you were busy, however she is quite inflexible in her determination to meet with you.”

  Jillian narrowed her eyes as she picked up on the tone of bewilderment in his voice. “Is there something wrong with the girl? Does she need assistance with something?” Jillian was alarmed by the peculiar expression that was etched on his face. He shook his head and again cleared his throat.

  “She seems healthy enough, she looks to be a lady as yourself, but she’s dressed . . .” He trailed off, searching to find the right way to describe the woman in the parlor. Jillian lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Edwards to continue. “She’s dressed as a savage, my lady, there are feathers in her hair and paint on her face. The dress she’s wearing is covered in beads.”

  Jillian’s eyes widened at the implication. “Are you implying that a young woman of breeding has turned savage and is sitting in the parlor? There must be some mistake, Edwards. If such a happening had occurred, James and I would have been notified to be able to take the proper precautions.”

  Edwards looked in the direction of the front of the house again. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I know how to spot a heathen. All of the domestics in this area were taught what to look for so we can sound the alarm and prevent attack. This young lady, other than being delicate-looking has all the signs of being . . . wild.”

  At the hesitation before the word wild, an unusual combination coursed through Jillian’s blood. Fear, puzzlement, and an insatiable curiosity danced down her spine, making Jillian want to run away from the house and waltz into the parlor all at once.

  “Warn the rest of the household. Go and get William from the stables. Tell him to get the shotgun from the pantry and have him go in first. I’ll walk in after him.”

  Edwards wanted to protest and suggest to send the woman away. But there was no arguing with the mistress of the house when she made up her mind. Edwards nodded and left to comply.

  Jillian waited until Edwards had left the room before she let her hands shake. It was not lost on her that the situation she suddenly found herself in had the potential to be very dangerous. Even if the savage was a white woman, there was no way she could be trusted. The door opened again and William stood looking exactly as she wanted him. Fierce and strong, a little rough in working clothes and holding a big gun in his hands.

  “Go ahead in. Don’t say anything to her. I’ll be right in.”

  William opened his mouth to protest. Jillian held up a hand to silence him before he got a word out. Knowing it was fruitless, William nodded and left the room. Jillian squared her shoulders and followed in his wake.

  Jillian was struck by two things about her visitor; how young the girl looked and how breathtakingly beautiful she was. Then Jillian toughened her resolve. Innocence could be a treacherous mask for danger. The girl’s eyes widened at the sight of William and the gun in his hands. Jillian was glad the right message was perceived. The pale skin and hair were almost invisible in the sunlit-washed room. The young lady was sitting on the floor, making strange motions with her arms and hands. Jillian cleared her throat, and as the girl looked up, she sat in one of the floral wing-backed chairs near the door.

  “My name is Jillian Yards. I am mistress of this house. What do you want?” Wondering if the girl spoke English, Jillian inhaled to speak again, when the girl took a breath and spoke.

  “A few months ago, I was sitting in this exact spot making my husband and me dinner. Our dwelling was tethered here.”

  Jillian leaned forward but was stopped by William’s hand on her arm. She nodded at the warning in his eyes and rose to stand closer to him, in case the girl made any unwarranted movements. “My name is River Turtle. One day he went into town and he never came home. I was forced from this land by a band of men. I came here today to see your big house standing tall. I can feel my husband here in this house. It beats with life because I know his was taken to get this land! I want justice!” River Turtle leapt to her feet with her last sentence, making William flinch and raise
the gun into a position where he could actually use it.

  “How did you come to be with your husband? Is he one of the vicious savages that have been plaguing this area?”

  River Turtle snapped her eyes to Jillian’s, the look fierce and aggravated. “I was not kidnapped, if that is what you are insinuating. He came to my family’s property peacefully, a liaison for his tribe boarding our land. He was always very sweet to me, he was kind to our family. I knowingly ran away for love and now he is dead.”

  Jillian was still focusing on the girl’s looks. River Turtle was willow slim, with an air of fragility coated over a layer of strength. Her eyes dominated her face, a crystal blue that put the sky to shame. Her pert nose and slightly pointed chin added to the image of wealth and upper-crust breeding that went with her pale hair and delicate skin. Suddenly, it dawned on Jillian.

  “You’re Bianca Kensington. Your family prayed you had been taken. After the heartbreak had passed we were warned to treat you as dangerous as those of your tribe. We were cautioned about who to let onto our properties and around our spouses and children. Are you implying that this was your land? Your husband’s tribe was spread out ten miles to the east. There’s no logical reason for you to be this far west. My husband purchased it so we could build our future here.”

  River Turtle took another step toward Jillian, a look of pure fury turning her eyes dark.

  “This spot was supposed to be my future. We were building a home and a little farm and planning a family. My husband was gifted this land from our chief, this whole area was claimed by his tribe. We were making our home, and I wanted children. Now there’s nothing left of the dreams I had. It is unfair. One day you will have to answer for what you and yours has done. The blood must be repaid!”

  ~ ~ ~

  Melissa refolded each letter carefully and turned her attention to the book. It was James’s own journal. Filled page to page with all types of entries. Some of them were pages of well-thought-out writings of day-to-day activities and feelings. Other pages were full of ramblings of someone who seemed like a raving lunatic. Then Melissa’s eyes fell on a page that made her blood turn to ice. It was a group of entries covering the first few days of the house she was sitting in being built. Each entry was three or four pages long, detailing something that James had done to preserve his position in life. “‘For my family. For my future.’”

  Melissa read the words and had to suppress a shiver. The paragraphs detailed a horrific act that was committed. Melissa pressed her hand to the window and could feel it beat. As if the house had its own heartbeat. When the knock sounded at the door, Melissa jumped three feet off the bench. Grace poked her head in.

  “I have your boxes out here in the hall. I hope they fit everything. Shall I start filling them?”

  Melissa couldn’t remember how to make her brain work. She nodded absently and after gathering all the papers around her up, she rushed from the room, intending to go to the library and see if there were any records of what her ancestors had done.

  ~ ~ ~

  Jillian cringed away from the shout. She was about to make the girl leave when William intervened.

  “Do not come back to this house again.” He tugged the girl to the front door and out of it.

  River Turtle turned to speak again but William closed the door in her face. He waited until he saw her walk past the windows and off the property before returning to Jillian’s side. Jillian had moved to stand at the window overlooking the front of the house. He propped the gun next to the door and went to her, unsure of what he should say or do. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Jillian knew as soon as they locked eyes her veneer of strength would crack. When she felt his strong fingers lift her chin, a few tears escaped.

  “You don’t have to be so strong around me Jilly.” His softly spoken words were a hammer to the dam.

  Jillian prided herself on being a strong woman, but at that show of comfort, she started to weep. William scooped her into his arms and settled her on his lap. It was a dangerous thing to do, if anyone saw them that way, so intimate, William would be turned away and possibly even hanged. Jillian would be cast from the house and left with nothing but a reputation in ruins. Neither seemed to care about that. William rocked back and forth, willing relief to go into Jillian’s bones. He kept the fear that had made his blood boil in check. It wouldn’t do to let her know how strong his feelings about her were. It was best his love for her remained a secret.

  As he felt Jillian begin to compose herself, he loosened his grip and tried not to be too disappointed when she stood abruptly from his lap. She paced around the room, a filly pretending to be broken when really she was still full of fire and wiped the tears from her face. Jillian was desperately trying to find the words to hide the embarrassment she felt at losing her calm.

  “Thank you, William. I would have been too frightened to face her alone.”

  William smiled at the compliment, knowing it was what she needed to see him do. “I think you would have been just fine. You’re much tougher than you give yourself credit for.” He tipped his hat, picked up the rifle from the doorway, and just as quickly put it back down before he changed his mind. Jillian had time for one alarmed gasp before he strode back to her and crushed his mouth to hers.

  Jillian felt as if she had been sucked into a tornado. That was on fire. The rough passion radiating from William’s lips had Jillian’s head spinning. She was just caught up enough to throw her arms around his neck and put some effort into kissing him back. Jillian lifted onto her toes to bring their bodies closer. Her mind went utterly blank and she let her emotions rule, enjoying every sensation her nerve endings were picking up.

  Jillian responding to him brought William back to reality. He was kissing a married woman. The wife of his boss, no less. He loathed letting her go but he knew as soon as she realized what she was doing, she would never speak to him again. As if waking from a dream, William broke the kiss as slowly as he could.

  Jillian’s eyes fluttered open. As if he was a rattlesnake, she quickly released her hold of him and put distance between them. The room span wasn’t enough. Jillian lifted a hand to her swollen lips and fled.

  William bent to retrieve the gun and wondered if he should start looking for a new job.

  ~ ~ ~

  Melissa wondered if she had gone blind. She had been staring at articles, books, and online writings of every aspect of 1871 that took place in and around California. There was no murder ever reported, but then she wasn’t that surprised. The journal read that her great-great-great-grandfather had killed a Native American and since that group of individuals wasn’t highly respected back then, she didn’t find anything reported on them. There was a lot of news about her home. James and Jillian Yard were big news for the time. Getting the land, taming it, settling it, and starting a beginnings of her neighborhood back then. Once other rich individuals had seen what he did they all wanted to do it as well.

  Melissa had read some interesting reports on attacks from the local tribes. The leaders of them saying that the land was stolen and therefor cursed. Nothing had ever come of these allegations and Melissa began to wonder if it was true. As she continued her research, a hand slapped on to her shoulder. It was a credit to her willpower that she was able to stay in her chair. Joshua stood smiling down at her.

  ~ ~ ~

  Every task that had to be completed at the office had taken longer than James had expected. He’d missed his luncheon with Jillian and was now in danger of missing dinner as well. James held on tightly to keep from being too harshly jostled in the back of the carriage, willing his driver to push the horses faster. When the carriage pulled up in front of the vast house, James did not wait for it to stop. He opened the door and rushed into the house, startling the driver and the maid, who had come to open the door upon hearing the carriage. He stopped in his tracks, brought
up short by the utter quiet in the house.

  The dining room was dark and there was no noise coming from the servants’ section of the house. James went in search for his wife. He walked into their master bedroom and saw her sitting in one of her favored high-backed chairs in front of the fire. He saw a tray of food over her lap and that none of the food had been touched. When he placed a hand on her shoulder, James was astonished when Jillian jumped. She lifted her face to his, and James could see the tears drying from her cheeks. Before he could kneel to offer comfort, Jillian set her tray aside and stood.

  “I’m glad you’re finally home. Circumstances about our life have come to light, James, and I want an explanation.” She watched her husband wince and led the way into the library, knowing that wince was going to be about another matter entirely when she was done.

  “You did not make it home for our luncheon date today. Lucky for me, I still had company. A young lady came into this house. The young girl who had run away to be with the native man? Bianca Kensington, and she had some very interesting things to say. She told me her husband was murdered and she was forced from the land this house is sitting on. As she spoke the words, the whole house rumbled. As if it had a heartbeat. Is any part of what she told me true?”

  James looked at Jillian as if she had grown another head. The words coming out of her mouth were supposed to be buried along with the heart laying under the tree behind the house.