Eternal (16 page)

“I have a really bad feeling about her,” I said. “She thinks he messed up her car.”

Waylon blew out a hasty breath. “He probably did. That boy’s pretty protective of you.”

Again, a confusing mix of terror and excitement tickled my insides at Waylon’s assumption. I’d never felt protected before.

Waylon studied her. “She says she’s a ghost hunter.”

“Like those goofballs on TV?”

“I’m not sure. She tried to get me to let her group into Rippavilla but I wouldn’t do it.”

“Why? Did she say what she wanted to do there? EMF readings? Photography?”

Waylon’s forehead furrowed as he thought. “She said something about clearing the place.”

“Clearing? Like
getting rid
of the spirits there?” My voice rose an octave in tandem with my panic.

I dropped my fork. My stomach roiled. What if Briar had somehow
cleared
Jeremiah? My hands shook as I snatched up my backpack and searched for my cell phone. I had to get home. I had to make certain Jeremiah was all right.

“What’s wrong?” Waylon asked.

“I haven’t heard or seen Jeremiah since you were at my house Saturday,” I said, dismally. “I’m calling my mom to tell her I’m sick and need to come home.”

“Hold on a second, Wren. How could Briar do that?” Waylon asked. “How could she get rid of him?”

“I don’t know.” My hands shook so badly, I could hardly dial my mom’s number. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to breathe in and out for a count of five despite the overwhelming urge to hyperventilate. When I heard Mom’s worried voice, I nearly burst into tears. “Wren? What’s wrong? Why are you calling from school?”

“I don’t feel well,” I said, pitifully. It wasn’t a lie. “Could you please come check me out?”

The few seconds it took her to answer seemed like an eternity to me. “Sure. Wait for me in the office.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I said good-bye to her and snapped my phone shut.

“Is she coming?” Waylon asked.

“Yes.”

“Let me see your phone,” Waylon said.

Confused, I handed it to him. He thumbed across the screen, hit the contacts option and began typing on the screen. “I’m adding my cell number to your contact list. If you need me, call. Okay?”

My heart swelled. I batted my lashes to keep tears from falling. After everything, Waylon remained so wonderfully sweet.

I smiled my thanks as he handed back my phone.

“Let me know what happens,” he said.

“I will.” I stood and shrugged on my backpack.

Nine

When Mom didn’t slow down as she neared our driveway, panic swamped me again. “Where are we going?” I twisted to look back as we whirred past our house.

“David called. I’ve got to take him a file he left at the house,” she said, her eyes never leaving the road.

Groaning, I lay my head back against the headrest but then I got an idea. “Can’t you just drop me off?”

“This’ll only take a minute,” she explained. “Relax. Did you have lunch?”

“I didn’t feel like eating.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe a stomach bug.” With any luck, that would dash her hopes of taking me out for a mother-daughter bonding lunch. I had to get home. And when I did, I planned to plead, apologize, do whatever it took to get Jeremiah to talk with me. I had to know that Briar hadn’t done anything to him.

She glanced at me. “You do look awfully pale.”

I pressed the button to lean my seat back and closed my eyes. What if Briar had done something to Jeremiah? What if she’d cleared him or whatever she called it?

I focused, trying to feel, to grasp at the information but all I saw in my head was Jeremiah’s hand touching mine and the look in his dove gray eyes as he drew me into his arms.

That had been the single most romantic thing that had ever happened to me. I’d never forget the sound of the rain pattering the tin roof, the humid chill in the air or the way Jeremiah’s being made me feel alive all over. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way my hand felt next to his or the way my heart careened sideways when his thumb caressed the back of my hand.

“Are you getting out?” Mom asked, breaking the spell of my daydream.

My eyes snapped open and I saw we’d arrived at the hospital.

I got out of the car and shuffled alongside Mom. Although we’d driven by the hospital several times, I’d never been inside. This, however, was not the time to sightsee. Impatience urged me to get home and I sincerely hoped Mom would simply drop off David’s file so we could leave.

The automatic doors glided open as we approached and I couldn’t help but wonder what Jeremiah thought of all the modern conveniences we now possessed.

At once, that sterile hospital stench surrounded me along with the blaring loudspeaker paging various doctors by coded numbers.

The waiting room overflowed with miserable looking people from babies to the elderly. A cartoon Ella watched at home played on a television mounted in the corner of the waiting room.

After my accident, I abhorred the hospital. Just the sight and sounds of emergency rooms started me staving off a panic attack. I counted as I breathed and mentally tried to travel to the happy place my counselors had laid out for me. But all I saw was the shadowy attic and Jeremiah’s glowing hand.

“Hi, Mrs. Lewis!” A short blonde wearing pink scrubs waddled through the emergency room with her armload of files. Even though they’d been married for six years, it still struck me as funny to hear my mom being called by David’s last name.

Mom stood out, dressed in her Buckhead boutique ensemble, and looking at her amongst scrubs and jean clad Tennesseans, I noticed how attractive she really was. Tall and thin, she wore stylish, brown suede boots and a chocolate leather coat. “Heather, have you met my oldest daughter, Wren?” Even Mom’s voice carried an air of country club class.

Heather scrutinized me. Doubtless, everyone who worked here knew why David had relocated to this Mule Town from his far more prestigious position in Atlanta. Nevertheless, she flashed me a cheery smile. “Hi, Wren.”

“Hi,” I muttered in that shy way that made Mom cringe.

I tensed at the approaching wail of sirens. As if sensing my building panic, Mom slipped her arm around my shoulders and drew me close. I always found Mom’s hugs comforting but at that moment, I ached to feel Jeremiah’s ethereal energy enveloping me.

Beginning to tremble, I hoped the sirens belonged to a swarm of fire trucks or police cars. No such luck.

An army of scrubs-clad hospital employees flocked to the doors. Codes blasted through the speaker system.

Heather’s gaze lifted as she listened. “I’ve gotta run,” she said. “Looks like we’ve got a wreck coming in.”

My head swam. The emergency room and its occupants temporarily faded from view and then returned with nauseating force. “I’ve got to sit down.”

Mom walked me to the nearest chair and I sank into it, not caring about the very sick looking old man sitting next to me. I focused on Mom’s face. She squatted in front of my chair. “I’ll run this back to David’s office and I’ll be right back. Will you be okay?”

I nodded but I wasn’t certain.

Mom left and I leaned my head back against the wall and concentrated on my breathing. The sirens echoed louder and louder in my head and I fought to keep my consciousness from being dragged back to the time Kira and I were wheeled into the emergency room on stretchers.

But something inside me whispered that I’d soon be the one rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

I chased away the psychic hunch.

“Jeremiah,” I whispered, longing for the comfort of his presence.

“Did you say something, honey?” the old man asked.

“No,” I whispered. “I just don’t like the sound of ambulances.”

“Wait’ll you get to be my age.” He patted the back of my hand which forcefully gripped the armrest.

The doors opened and my eyes riveted to the horrific sight of three stretchers rolling in. Nurses ran alongside carrying the fluid bags high. Blood stained a white blanket covering one of the victims and suddenly I drifted outside my body, watching myself being wheeled in on that stretcher.

I blinked and suddenly a bedraggled woman appeared floating beside one of the stretchers. Immediately, I knew she was dead.

Her horrified gaze flicked to mine. “Help me!”

My consciousness slammed back into my body with heart-wrenching force. My earlier fear dissipated, and I rose and walked toward the ghost woman. So much commotion flurried in the emergency room, no one took any notice of me. The lady walked behind a stretcher, desperately pleading with the nurses to listen to her. “Please help him. Please don’t let him die.”

A boy about my age lay on the gurney, motionless. Pale. He looked dead but I couldn’t see his spirit.

“Tom,” the woman wailed. “No!”

Suddenly, two spirits loomed before me but the second wasn’t the boy on the stretcher. It was a man who appeared very shocked.

“Don’t leave him,” the woman pleaded. “Stay with him, Tom.”

The befuddled man evaporated.

“I’ve got a heartbeat on the older male,” a nurse yelled but my gaze drifted to the third stretcher wheeling past me.

The ghost woman’s physical body lay lifelessly on it. I stared, stunned.

“No!” the woman yelled, her gaze flicking back and forth at something I couldn’t see. “I’m not ready to go. I’m not ready—”

Then I watched as the brilliant glow around her spirit intensified until it was so bright I could hardly look at it. I shielded my eyes, squinting, unwilling to look away until suddenly, the light was gone. I blinked at the bewildered ghost lady who stood gaping at the spot where the beam of light had been.

She hadn’t gone. She’d refused.

Just like Jeremiah.

Hands clamped my shoulders, startling me.

“Wren,” Mom urged. “Wren, come away from here.”

Numb, I stumbled along as she led me out the door. I craned to see the ghost woman but she was no longer visible.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” Mom said as she guided me into the car.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled unconvincingly as I dropped into the seat and strapped on my seat belt.

Neither of us said another word on the short drive back to the house but when I saw the white columns and the giant fanlight window come into view, my heart beat with renewed anticipation.

Our pea gravel drive crunched under the tires as Mom rolled up the driveway, and as soon as she stopped the car, I burst out and headed for the front porch.

Gratitude swept through me that the front door wasn’t locked. After I pushed it open, I rushed up the stairs as fast as my feet would carry me. Both excitement and dread vied for prominence as I neared the attic door. Mentally, I willed Jeremiah to come to me. He’d told me he could read my emotions so I projected the strongest one I felt for him.

Love.

The attic door swung open with an menacing groan. I looked back to make certain Mom hadn’t followed me and then I hastened up the stairs.

When I reached the top and saw him, relief swamped me with such force, tears began to pour down my cheeks.

Still, there was something…

Jeremiah sat on the attic floor, his arms resting on the tops of his drawn up knees as he stared straight ahead. I battled the desire to run to him, to throw myself into his ethereal arms.

Even despite his aloof demeanor, at that moment, I knew I would never love another man the way I loved Jeremiah Ransom as long as I lived—and even after that.

“Jeremiah?” My voice came out in a garbled whisper.

His shoulders rose slightly and then fell as he blew out a deep breath.

Couldn’t he feel me? Couldn’t he feel that I overflowed with love for him? I tried to swallow but couldn’t. I drew in a rough breath. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

He stood and turned his back to me. “I could never be angry with you.”

Cautiously, I moved closer and with every step, I became glaringly aware of the magnetic push and pull of his energy with mine. “Then why—”

In one sudden movement, so quickly I hadn’t seen him move, he faced me. My words stuck in my throat.

His eyes glittered like steel. His sensuous mouth was set in a straight, determined line. And all I could think was how extraordinarily beautiful he appeared with the light streaming through the window and shining through him.

His gaze searched mine. “I apologize for frightening your suitor.”

I shook my head, too choked to speak.

“He seemed like a sincere young man.” He spoke as if he was trying to convince himself rather than me. “You should be with someone who can care for you. Someone who’s…alive.”

“No,” I rasped. “Jeremiah, please…I—” The words hung on my lips to tell him I loved him but I was too terrified to utter them.

“You mustn’t spend so much time up here,” he said.

I shook my head again.

“You should be with the living. With your family. Your friends. With that young man who wishes to court you.”

My heart was breaking.

“But I—”
Oh God, why couldn’t I say three simple words?

His eyes softened and he took another step closer to me. I could have easily reached out and touched him but fear paralyzed my both my body and my vocal chords.

He seemed stricken. “You don’t want to while away your days with…with a…dead man.”

I nodded vehemently. My gaze dropped to his chest. “But I do, Jeremiah. I do. When Waylon…when he…kissed me, all I could think about was that I wished it was you, instead.”

Before I could draw my next breath, I reeled into his arms and he lowered his mouth to mine. My heart beat like a wild bird’s wings as his lips found mine. At first, all I felt was an energetic pressure and then it was all-consuming. His kiss was hard and soft at the same time until I couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and mine began.

Trembling fingers pressed into my shoulders. His mouth devoured mine and I opened for him. This kiss was the most intense kiss I had ever known. The gravity of it all penetrated me with the knowledge that this would be the most memorable moment of my life. So memorable, this one kiss temporarily eradicated my fears about Briar, the pain and guilt I felt over Kira’s death and erased the scars marring not only my face but my soul as well.