Ghost Walk (9 page)

“Didn’t
we establish that you’re a bit abnormal, lass?  I mean --Jesus, Mary, and
Joseph-- you’re seeing ghosts.”

The
woman didn’t like hearing that opinion.  She heaved a pillow at him and only
seemed to get angrier when it passed right through his body.  “God!  You are
the most annoying person I’ve ever met!”

“Nonsense. 
I met that wanker Robert and he’s
far
more annoying than me.  Aunt Serenity
is right.  The man’s a complete asshole.”

Just
thinking
about him put Jamie in a foul mood, again.  His jaw tightened
every time he recalled the way Robert grabbed Grace’s arm, jerking her to a
stop when she tried to walk away from him.  It kept playing in his head on a
loop, reminding him that he was essentially useless to Grace.  The same way
he’d been useless when his bastard of a father had manhandled his mother. 
Robert could have harmed Grace right in front of his eyes and there wasn’t a
damn thing Jamie could’ve done about it.

“He’s
a bad man, Grace.  I donea know why you didn’t realize it sooner.”  Jamie
paused.  “Also his taste is just
abysmal
.  Both in furnishings and in
women, if he fancied that shrill pizza girl.”

Grace
hesitated for a beat, realizing there was a compliment buried in there
somewhere.  Large brown eyes blinked in surprise, just as they had when he’d
talked of her beauty back at Robert’s.  Even a small bit of flirting seemed to
befuddle her.  “Thank you.”  She said with a bemused frown.  “I think.”

Jamie’s
gaze traced over her amazed face.  “You’re welcome.”

Who
would choose another girl over Grace?  It made no sense, but he supposed he
should thank Robert for his stupidity.  Grace had left the wanker and that was
all that mattered.  Not only was Robert a dangerous man, but Jamie couldn’t
tolerate the idea of another male having a claim on her.  Maybe he
was
just a ghost, but he hated the idea of some living, breathing rival, who could
offer her things Jamie couldn’t.

The
woman was his.

“I’d
be happy to haunt the bastard, if you’d like.”  Jamie offered, helpfully. 
“Least I can do.”

Grace
drew in a deep breath and muttered something about cornfields again.  “I’m
trying
to be normal, alright?”  She said.  “Maybe it’s a work in progress, but I’m not
having you paranormally torment my ex and I’m
certainly
not helping you
CSI a two hundred year old murder case.  Those are not things normal people do.”

Jamie
wasn’t giving up.  “Someone
killed
those girls.  Two hundred years ago
or not, they were
real
people and they
really
died.  They deserve
to have their murderer brought to justice.”

“You
were
brought to justice.”

“
Except
I didn’t bloody do it!
”

The
two of them glowered at each other for a long moment and then Grace looked
away, her lips pressed together.  “Peaceful green cornfields.  Peaceful green
cornfields.”  She rubbed her temples.  “Peaceful.  Green.  Cornfields.”

God,
but she drove him batty when she did that.  Jamie sighed and got himself under
control.  The last thing he wanted was to antagonize Grace.  “I apologize for
shouting at you.”  He held up his palms.  “I just want you to believe me.”

“Well, I
don’t
.” 
She slouched down in her chair, brooding.  “And I’m right about the wigs, too.”

Jamie
threw up his hands at her slightly tipsy stubbornness.  “Bleeding Christ…”

“It’s
true!  They have a whole lecture on it at the Harrisonburg wig maker’s shop and
I’ve been to it
twice
.”

He
would never understand why twenty-first century mortals wanted to squander
their holidays in Harrisonburg.  Back in the 1940s, when the historical society
had first proposed the idea of becoming a tourist attraction, he’d laughed his
ass off.  How could learning about wigs and horseshoes
ever
be
entertaining?  The eighteenth century hadn’t been all that stimulating the
first time around.  He almost felt sorry for the modern world, if that’s how
they had fun.  He’d had
far
better ways to spend his time, when he was
alive.

He
wasn’t stupid enough to tell Grace any of that, though.  For whatever reason,
she liked dull things and he was in no position to burn bridges.  He backed
off, for the moment.  “Not everyone wore wigs.”  He said, going for a safer
topic and calmer tone.

“Yes,
they did.”  The woman clearly couldn’t hold her liquor worth a damn.  It
brought out the confrontational side that she claimed not to have.  T’was quite
adorable.  “Is that even your real hair?”

“Aye,
every strand.”

“Because
it’s a very beautiful color.”  She sounded irritated by that, too.  “I’ve never
known anyone with hair that was all auburn-y gold like that.  I saw a picture
of you in a history book and I thought it had to be a wig. 
All
of you wore
wigs back then.”

“I
didn’t.”  His mouth curved, liking the fact that she liked his hair.

Grace
made a face.  “I should have bought more wine at the supermarket.  One bottle
clearly isn’t going to be enough to make you tolerable.”

“No
one should
ever
buy wine at a supermarket.  Life is far too short to
settle.”

“Oh
Lord.  Tell me you’re a wine snob, too.”

“Well,
if I could still eat, drink, or taste, I’d surely be more selective than you
are.”  He paused, still irritated by Robert’s very existence.  “Being a wee bit
more discriminating in
all
areas of life would benefit you greatly, if
you want my opinion.”

“I
am
discriminating.”  She snapped.  “Incredibly, seriously,
amazingly
discriminating, for your information.”

Jamie
arched a brow.

“Well,
how was I supposed to know that Robert was such a louse?”  She demanded,
correctly interpreting his skepticism.  “That doesn’t count against me.  He
seemed pleasant enough and totally safe.”

“Pleasant
and safe.  A rousing endorsement for any man.”

Grace
glanced away.  “All I’ve ever wanted is to feel safe.”  The words were barely a
whisper.

Jamie’s
heart hadn’t beat in over two hundred years, but he swore it gave a lurch at
that soft confession.  His lips parted wanting to offer her his protection. 
…But that was pointless.  What bloody good could a ghost be?  He closed his
mouth, calling himself a fool.  The woman should have someone
alive
. 
Some solid and respectable gentlemanly partner, who could provide her with security
and a happy future.  Jamie knew that.

But
he needed her too much to care.

He
shook his head refusing to even consider the deeper ramifications of claiming
Grace for his own.  If he thought about the impossibilities of it, he might
discover something he didn’t want to find.  She was
his
.  That was all
that really mattered.

Grace
was rallying again.  “Anyway, I was very happy to go out with someone so
husband material-y.  His behavior is
very
disappointing.  Plus, now I’m
going to have to take back the birthday gift I bought for him, which will be a
real pain, since I didn’t keep the receipt.  What am I going to do with a beige
tie?”

Jamie
made a face at her vaguely inconvenienced tone.  “You would have been miserable
with such a man.  You just caught him cheating on you and you’re barely caring
at all!  Obviously it wasn’t a love match.”

“Maybe
not, but after the year I’ve had, I needed some stability, alright?”  She
frowned in deep thought.  “But, the next time I get a boyfriend, I’m going to
hold out for a guy who wakes up the pizza-tramp part of me.  It seemed like it
would be a lot more fun.”

Jamie
wasn’t even going to touch that comment.  “What happened last year?”  He asked
instead.

Her
lips compressed into that familiar mutinous line.  “Nothing.”

“Is
that ‘nothing’ the reason you burned up?”

“Burned
out
.”  She muttered and ate some more ice cream.  “And that’s none of
your business.”

Jamie
tried not to notice the way her tongue licked over the spoon.  For a fleeting
second it occurred to him that he’d been wrong before.  The worst aspect of
being a ghost was being unable to kiss Grace Rivera’s lush mouth.  To feel
those perfectly shaped lips beneath his, tasting the essence of her and
swallowing the gentle sounds she made.

Of
course, even if he was still alive, he wouldn’t have been allowed to touch
her.  Ladies like Grace were looking for “husband material.”  Someone normal
and pleasant to keep them safe.  Jamie was nothing more than a passing
diversion to everyone he met.

God,
but that pissed him off.

“You
might as well tell me what happened to you.”  Jamie flopped down in the seat
across from Grace.  “I’m going to be here for the next seventy years, so
there’s no sense in keeping secrets.”

She
froze, her gaze jumping back to his.  “
Seventy years?
  Wait, what do you
mean seventy years?”

“Well,
you’re --what-- thirty?”

“Thirty-two,
but…”

Jamie
cut her off.  “Still very young for your century.”  He assured her.  “Now, I
donea understand all of the medical advances of this time period, but I’ve seen
that they work wonders.  A hundred-and-two will be a perfectly average age,
when you’re an old woman.  I’ve no doubt that you’ll live to see it.”

“Even
if I do,
you’re
certainly not going to be there.  You have to
go
,
Jamie.”

That
was the first time in nearly a quarter of a millennium that someone had
addressed him by name.  The sound of it melted Jamie’s insides and hardened his
resolve.  For whatever reason, this girl had been given to him.  Handed into
his care.  He wasn’t sure why or how, but he knew she was a gift from Heaven
itself.  Without Grace, he was nothing at all.  Just a lost voice, screaming
into a void.

Prickly
or not, he would never,
ever
leave her.

“Oh
no, lass.”  Jamie shook his head.  “As long as I’m stuck in this plane, I’m
going to be right by your side.  And since I sure seem to be stuck here until
my name is cleared… and you won’t help me clear my name,” he shrugged
helplessly, “it looks as though we’d best be getting used to each other’s
company.”

He
reached over to give her knee a pat and that strange electrical charge zapped
through him again.  Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but Jamie still released a
shuddering breath.  He hadn’t been imagining it before.  He could feel her. 
Jamie’s hand couldn’t make contact with her skin, but he could
feel
her.

And
she felt better than anything he could imagine.

So
many times, over the decades and centuries, he’d tried to recall what it was
like to be alive.  To be able to touch someone.  To have them know he was
there.  To
feel
them.  As hard as he’d tried to cling to the memories,
the reality of it was overwhelming.  Feeling Grace Rivera was simply… magic.

Maybe
she really was part fay.

Grace
felt him, too.  She jerked back, looking frantic.  “No!  I mean it, no
way
are you staying here.  I have a nice, normal life to live and it can’t be
infested with spirits.”  She waved a hand around.  “I don’t care how sexy your
accent is, you’re
leaving
.”

Jamie
decided to focus on the positive aspects of that rant.  “I like your accent,
too, lass.  Southern ladies always have the nicest drawls.”

She
appeared ready to strangle him.  Too bad the lynch-mob had beaten her to it.

“I
don’t have a…”  She stopped and took a deep breath.  “No.  This isn’t going to
work.  I see what you’re doing, but, no matter what you threaten or try, I’m
not
helping you solve those murders.”  She staggered to her feet, hampered by her
bulky bathrobe and the unaccustomed quantities of wine she’d consumed.  “I just
can’t, okay?  I’m sorry.  I wish you luck, but I’m afraid our association is
over.  I am going to go in my room and close the door.  Come morning, you will
be gone and I’ll pretend this was all a dream.”

“No,
I donea think so.”  Jamie stacked his hands behind his head and leaned back in
the chair.  “I’m content to stay right here in my new home.”  He looked around
with sigh.  “Granted, it’s not the furniture
I
would’ve chosen, but
we’re both making compromises in this relationship, so I’ll endure.”

Emotion
put color into her face and made her even lovelier.  “We don’t
hav
e a
relationship and this
isn’t
your home!
 I’m
the one who pays rent
and I want you gone!”

“You
say that
now
, but I’m a grand fellow to have about.  Very witty and
full
of useful advice.”

“I
don’t want your advice!”

“Open
your mind, lass!  I can help you select your next beau, so you donea end up
with another rotter like Robert.”  Lie.  He had no intention of letting any
other man near her.  “I can follow along on your job each day, so you get all
your historical facts straight.”  Another lie.  Grace needed to find other
employment, because being a tour guide was clearly crushing her spirit.  “Oh
and I’ve got a tremendous singing voice.”  Damnable lie of there ever was one,
but pirates weren’t known for their scrupulous honesty.  “Why, in a few
decades, you’ll wonder how you ever got along without me.”