Greedy Bones (36 page)

"I should replace these stones," I said. "Something more representative of--"

"They serve a purpose."

I couldn't argue with that. "I like the older ones, the
flutes and angels and ivy columns. They tell something about the person."

Jitty, with a columned stone topped with ivy, a lute,
and
an angel, was buried beside my great-great-grandmother Alice. Friends in life, survivors of the nation's most tragic war, they'd been laid to rest side-by-side as the partners they'd been.

"Why are we here?" I asked.

"This is just a place, Sarah Booth."

"That's where you're wrong," I told her. "This is a destiny."

Her laugh was soft and warm. "Your mama would shake you 'til your teeth rattled for such foolishness."

At last, she made me smile. "Death and taxes--the only certainties."

"There's this moment. There's this land and these dogs and those horses. And that man asleep in your bed in that house."

"And in a next few seconds, it could all disappear." I ran my hand across the top of the smooth stone on my mother's grave. I would have a new one done. One that symbolized who my parents were. And Aunt Loulane, too. She'd gone for the simplistic approach when she'd preordered her own marker.

"Would you really want to know when it will end?" Jitty asked. "Madame Tomeeka gets a glimpse sometimes, but she doesn't know. And even that is TMI." She held up a hand like a sassy character in a TV commercial. "You don't want to know the time line of your life."

"I had everything. For a couple of months . . ."

Awareness dawned in Jitty's eyes. "I see now what ails you. Once before in your life, you had ever'thing. You had it all, love and safety and joy. Then your parents died, and you lost it. Since then, you've been tryin' to pull
all of that back into your life. Then you had it again, until that Peyton Fidellas took it. But Doc says you're fine and healthy. No lingerin' ill effects. It's all still there, Sarah Booth."

"And what do I do to protect it?"

"The gettin' and the havin' are two very different positions to hold." She nodded. "Requires a different skill-set."

I sighed. She'd hit the nail on the head. "So what do I do? Every decision I make in the future could be the one that destroys it. Like when I decided to go with Peyton . . ."

"Self-doubt isn't the bed partner you want." Jitty's face had gone stern. "You took every precaution. You did your job to help Oscar. Ain't no profit in beatin' yourself up for the actions of a vile man."

She was right. Jitty was most often right. But the doubt still gnawed at me. "If I'd only--"

The live oak that shaded the cemetery whipped in a sudden wind. The branches rattled, throwing wild moon shadows over the tombs. "You keep that up and you'll surely lose everything." Jitty was stern. "I came out here to make a point." She held up a hand and took an operatic stance, her pure voice floating on the night. "All the longing, striving, seeking, waiting, yearning . . ." She stopped and walked closer to me, her gown and hair a pale shimmer in the moonlight. "For 'tis love, and love alone, the world is seeking," she sang on. And then she spoke. "'Tis the answer, Sarah Booth. Now get in that house and stoke the fires of love. Because of you, Tinkie has a man to hug up on. Because of you, she has the life she almost lost."

I felt the wetness on my cheeks, but I wasn't crying. The pain was simply leaking out. "Thank you, Jitty. I'd
expected you to be angry with me. I mean, you've waited so long for a Delaney heir."

She shook her head and indicated we should amble homeward. "I hate to see you suffer, Sarah Booth. But I have faith. In you and in the future."

I realized that she'd grown transparent. I could see Dahlia House through her beautiful gown. "Don't leave," I requested.

"Oh, you don't want me around." Her chuckle was soft and slightly wicked.

"What?"

And then I heard Graf calling me. He came out the back door, a flashlight in his hand. "Sarah Booth!"

"I'm here," I answered. My feet skimmed the wet grass as I moved from a walk to a jog. The jarring sent shock waves up my arm and ribs, but Graf flicked on the back door light and I could see him, silhouetted against the house that I'd grown up in and loved. Sweetie ran forward, baying a greeting.

"I woke up and you were gone. What are you doing outside?" He came down the steps and softly brushed my hair from my face.

I'd worried him, and it was good to be the focus of his concern. "I couldn't sleep. I went out to the cemetery."

His arm came gently around me. "Come inside, Sarah Booth. I'll make you some cocoa laced with a little Kahlua." His body was warm against mine. "Remember when you were little and your parents read you to sleep. I'll read that script Federico sent to you."

I nodded, taking comfort from his strength. "That sounds like a plan."