A Rocky Path (11 page)

“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 whose 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.

Emily went back up the stairs to her room. As
she entered the room, she felt like something was different. She
smelled a pleasant scent, like fresh air and the sea. She looked
around, and then she saw it. Propped up against the wall next to
her bed was a canvas covered in a cloth. She walked over to it, and
with shaking hands, pulled the cloth off. She couldn’t believe what
she was seeing. There, on the canvas, was a likeness of her,
painted with the eye of someone who cared deeply about his subject.
Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor in front of the
picture. As she looked at it, she seemed to feel every stroke of
the brush that Patrick had held in his hand. If the picture of the
blond woman was good, this one was magnificent. He had portrayed
her with a dreamy expression on her face, as if she were thinking
of someone she loved. Her dark hair billowed around her face, her
cheeks were a little flushed, and her lips were slightly parted.
And on her finger was the silver ring. This was the most beautiful
portrait she had ever seen. He had to have painted her from memory
because this picture was not a duplicate of the one he had drawn.
And yet he had remembered every detail of her face. How could a man
paint a woman like this unless he loved her?

Emily saw something white peeking out from
behind the picture. She reached down and picked it up. She saw that
it was a letter. Her heart skipped a beat. It was from Patrick!

Dearest Emily,

I regret that we parted in the way that we
did. I know that I hurt you, but that was never my intention. The
more time we spent together, the harder it was for me to let you
go. I wonder over and over whether or not I made the correct
decision. The hurt look on your face will haunt me forever. But I
had to decide what was best for you, regardless of how I felt. It
tore my heart out to leave you. Every day I am tempted to come to
our special place, find you, and tell you everything about me and
why I am the way I am. As you go through your life, I want you to
know and remember this…you will always be loved. No matter how hard
I tried not to love you, I couldn’t stop my feelings. I love you
more than you will ever realize. I hope this painting will always
remind you of me and how much I love you. I have never painted
anything with as much love and care as I did this painting. Please
remember me fondly.

Love always,

Patrick

Emily wept long and hard that night. Her
heart was breaking, but a part of her rejoiced because Patrick
loved her. How could she find him? Would she ever see him again to
tell him that she loved him and that she knew what he was and that
it didn’t matter? Somehow, she would find him. There had to be a
way! Tomorrow she would do everything in her power to find someone
who could help her find Patrick. She wasn’t going to give up.

Chapter Seventeen

The next day Emily called Jarrod Connelly and
asked him if he knew anyone that could help her learn more about
ghosts.

“Emily, are you sure you want to pursue this?
Why don’t you just let him go? He told you he wasn’t coming back.
Just let him be. Don’t try to get in touch with him.”

“Jarrod, I know that you have my best
interests at heart. You are a very nice man, and you were very
open-minded about the whole ghost thing and didn’t scoff at my
ideas. Most men your age would have been a lot different. In fact,
most people of any age would have thought I had lost my mind. But
you have to understand that this is my decision. You don’t have to
help me if you don’t want to, but I will find some way of getting
the answers anyway.”

“You’re definitely a persistent girl. I know
you’ll do what you want to do no matter what I say. So I’ll help
you. Write this phone number down.”

He gave her the number of a lady that he knew
that studied ghosts and other paranormal phenomena. She wrote it
down and thanked him for his help. She felt like now she had at
least made a start.

After she got off from work that day, she
called the number that Jarrod had given her. The lady’s name was
Sarah Stone and Jarrod had told Emily that they were old childhood
friends.

“Hello, Mrs. Stone? This is Emily Adams. I
work for Rebecca Winslow in the old McCulloch house.”

“Oh, yes, I have heard about you. In a town
this small, everyone knows when someone new comes to town.”

Emily laughed. “I’m sure that’s true. Listen,
I have a very strange request. I would like to come to your house
and talk to you about ghosts. I would like to know what you know
about them and how they behave.”

“Do you believe in ghosts, young lady?” Mrs.
Stone asked.

“Well, I never did before. But I think I do
now. Please, would you let me come and talk to you?”

“Of course, dear. I would be glad to have the
company. But be warned…I don’t get to talk a lot about my
interests, so if you get me talking, you may not be able to get me
to stop!”

“I think I can deal with that,” laughed
Emily. “When will you be able to see me?”

“How about after dinner tonight? Maybe around
8:00 or so.”

“I’ll be there!”

Mrs. Stone gave her directions to her house
and Emily thanked her. Then she went down to dinner.

“Hi, Emily,” said Jamie. He still seemed
nervous around her. She wasn’t entirely comfortable around him yet,
either.

“Hello, Jamie.” She looked around the table.
“How is everyone tonight?”

Sam immediately started talking about the new
novel he was working on. Pretty soon, he and his aunt had their
heads together, talking animatedly about their writing projects.
Jamie mentioned a 1966 fully restored Mustang he had seen that day
and was excited about the possibility of buying it. Everything was
so normal, and Emily wondered what everyone would think if they
knew what was on
her
mind.