Ghost of a Chance

Chapter 4 The Moon

Brendan hadn’t meant to knock over the end table. He had been watching her paint like a mad person, painting after painting. She painted half of his face in one then threw down her brush, tore the paper off and sketched just his eyes with charcoal. She tore the paper off again and again all following a crazed episode of drawing him. She was in a trance.

She had finally stopped and just stared at the blank canvas. He thought that she was done. Then she started drawing very slowly. She was mumbling something under hear breath that he couldn’t understand. He walked away. Not sure what to do. He couldn’t let her continue this fanatical episode. When he turned around and saw what she had drawn, the two of them together as only he had imagined, he had started toward her, to stop her somehow, and ran into the table.

He saw her eyes then. She was frightened. He didn’t understand why, but when the color left her face he knew that she was going to faint. He ran to her and caught her before she could hit the floor. He tucked her into her bed then left her once again. This time he put the paintings and drawings up stairs where she would never see them. And even went as far as hiding her art tools. He didn’t see the point of her going through it all over again.

Is this what she had been doing in the back room? He had peaked in and saw the paintings of himself, of Liza, and of Mary Ann on the walls. He had never watched her go through her trance. He didn’t know how she knew what they all looked like, but seeing their faces reminded him of a past long ago that he didn’t want to think about. He loved those women with all of his heart. He couldn’t bear to look at them so he stayed away from her drawing room.

If he had known what was happening to her when she was painting, he would have stopped it long ago. He made a mental note that he was going to have to keep an eye on her. She obviously needed protecting, maybe from himself, he wasn’t quite sure. Was it his ghostly presence that was causing her insanity? He didn’t know for sure. He knew that if it was that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He would do what was in his power though to keep her from going insane.

Drew woke alone in her bedroom. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there. She opted for a bath to snap her out of whatever she had fallen into. She could hear the piano playing in the living room. It was a very sad tune. It made her want to cry. The bath was very relaxing as usual. She closed her eyes and listened to Brendan play. She was lost in her own thoughts again and didn’t hear the music stop.

“Why are you so hateful to your mother?” Brendan said.

Drew almost jumped out of the bath. It took her a moment to collect herself. “Great. You are silent for a week and then when you do speak you want to talk about my retched mother?”

“Let’s talk about the paintings then. Do you know the man in your paintings?” Brendan said quietly, almost fatherly. Drew felt the tug of a hair brush through her wet hair then. It should have freaked her out, but it was very relaxing so she laid her head back and enjoyed the moment.

Drew felt herself slipping into a trance. She closed her eyes. “I’m not sure. I feel like I do. I don’t even know his name.”

“I heard you tell your friend that you were in love with him.” He said even quieter.

“I know. That’s silly isn’t it? I don’t even like men. They scare me.” She said sleepily.

“I don’t scare you, yet I am a man.” Brendan said as he continued to brush her hair gently.

She felt his finger tips along the edge of her hairline now and opened her eyes. “I didn’t think of you that way before I guess.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? Most women scream at the thought of a ghost and swoon at the thought of a man. You are a strange one, Miss Drew.” He stopped brushing her hair then and she could hear his footsteps walk towards the door.

“Will you come back after I get dressed?” Drew said. She didn’t know why but she didn’t want him to go. “I think I may have some wine and I wouldn’t mind some company.”

“Aye.” Was all that he said and he shut the door.

What was she doing to him? She was stirring up feelings in him that he hadn’t felt for a very, very long time, inside and out. Was it even possible for a ghost to be aroused? The feel of her hair on his skin, the smell of the lavender in her bath, how was it even possible? had moved things around but He had played the piano, he he had never literally felt

anything since, well he didn’t like to say died but it was true. He had died. He had no sense of smell, he had not once had any sense of touch in one hundred and fifty years yet he felt her.

He had been watching her all week. She was definitely different than the women from his time. She spoke to him a lot and he was afraid to answer her. She spoke to herself a lot which confused him because he wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or not. He had learned a lot about her in such a short time and yet really didn’t know her at all. He had wanted to touch her though so many times.

He loved the way that she would tuck that pink strand of hair behind her ear and bite her thumb nail when she was really thinking. Or, the way that her face would bunch up when she was reading what looked like a love story, as if she were confused. He didn’t know what made him finally go in and talk to her; he just knew that it was time.

Drew dried off and found a long silky white night gown that Liza had given her as a way to tell her to girly up after having to borrow sweats to sleep in. It still had the tag on it. She was feeling like a woman and wanted to look beautiful for some reason. Normally, jeans, a t-shirt, and boots or cotton sweats and a tank top were her cup of tea but she was feeling a little feminine this evening and Liza’s gift was the perfect thing to set it off.

She lit candles and even added a little rouge to her cheeks. The mirror in her room had been turned around to face the wall the first time she came into the room just as all of the other mirrors in the house had when she moved in. She turned the hair dryer on and closed her eyes as the heat relaxed her yet again. She hadn’t realized how tired she was.

He would have to tell her about the wine cellar he supposed. For tonight though he would bring her what he knew that she liked as she had brought it from the outside and put it in that strange box that kept things cold without ice. It was a chilled strawberry wine that had been bottled in Ponchatoula he noticed.

When he heard the hair dryer he knew that she must be dressed and let himself in. He almost dropped the tray that to the human eye would seem to be floating in midair. She was absolutely beautiful. She stood in candle light facing the mirror. Her eyes were closed and the air from the dryer blew her long gorgeous blonde hair away from her face. The white gown that she wore made her look even more like an angel. He was glad that she couldn’t hear the moan that he had just uncontrollably released from somewhere deep within. He saw her eyes start to flutter open and quickly moved before she could see him in the mirror. He wasn’t quite ready for her to see that he was literally the man of her dreams.

He set the wine glass and bottle of wine on the night stand and watched as she put the hair dryer in an ancient drawer. She then brushed her hair again with the antique silver brush that he had remembered to be a gift from his parents to his sister.

How he had missed his sister. They had been very close and he would have killed the murderer himself if he had only known who had done it. Even more he would have kept her safe from harm if he had known that she was in any danger at all.

Drew laid the brush down and looked around the room. She could feel his presence, but had no idea where he was exactly.

“I know that you are in here. Where are you?” She said.

“By the night stand and I brought you some wine.” He said still watching her.

“Thank you. That was very sweet.” She walked towards the night stand then. “Have I ever, you know, walked through you?” She said hoping that she wasn’t doing that at the moment.

He laughed a deep laugh that gave her goose bumps, the good kind that make you want to grab someone close and hold on to them. She wasn’t use to those kinds of feelings though for men and she really didn’t know how to react to them.

“No, you haven’t. Someone did that once and it wasn’t very pleasant. So, I try to avoid it as much as possible.”

“I see.” She said a little uncomfortably. “Well, please excuse me then while I pour myself a glass of wine.” She poured the wine and sat on the bed. She knew at that moment that it wasn’t going to take long for her eyes to close for the night.

“Why is it that your Irish accent comes and goes, Brendan O’Keefe?” She said after taking a sip of wine to calm her nerves.

“How is it that you know my name?” He asked her.

“You first, we can take turns if you like. I have a million questions.” She said excitedly.

“As do I. Fair enough then.” She felt him sit beside her on the bed. “I suppose it comes because I was born and raised in Ireland. I moved here just ten years before…well, you know. I suppose it has been quite a while since I have been home so it fades now and then. Now you, how is it that you know my name lass?” She smiled as she was sure that he added lass in there on purpose, as if to prove to her that he still had a little Irish in him.

“From the… library, I did some checking after I learned that I had a roommate.” She didn’t really want to tell him about the cemetery yet. He had paused several times as to not say that he died she assumed that he didn’t really want to talk about it.

“Really? They have information about me at the library? What information do they have exactly?” She felt the bed move as if he had sat up straight.

“Nope, it’s my turn. What made you decide to let me stay?” She asked, taking another sip of her wine and trying to think of what in the world she was going to tell him about the library when it came time to answer his question as she knew that he would make her come back to it.

Ag gravated he replied, “I didn’t seem to have much choice. You are a stubborn one, Miss Drew. I couldn’t scare you and I would never hurt you. So, how else was it that I was supposed to get you to leave?”

Something told her that it was more than that. She knew that there was no point in pushing it though. Not right now anyway.

“Now, tell me about the library. What did you learn about me?” He asked.

“Well, I…” She didn’t know what to say.

“It’s fine, I promise, Love. I need to know what you have learned, please.”

“Ok,” she said still uncomfortable with the whole death topic, “I read that your sister was murdered by your lover and that you hung yourself afterward.” She said it quickly then cringed, waiting for him to explode.

“Why do you draw back as if I were to hit you?” He said calmly, the Irish fading in and out again.

“I didn’t think that you wanted to talk about death. If you want to it is fine with me I guess. I wish that I could see you. It would make it so much easier to talk to you.” She said looking for him. She didn’t really know how she would react to him appearing in front of her, but she wanted to see him.

“Nay, ‘tis too soon and I can only show myself in the mirrors. So, do you believe all that ye hear, Miss Drew?” He stood upoff of the bed then. “Or read shall I say?”

“No, I don’t. Given the circumstances and the fact that I know absolutely nothing about ye, what else would ye have me believe? I’ve only heard one story and it was obviously not yours.”

He laughed at her mockery of his fading Irish accent. He supposed after hundreds of years things would be apt to change a bit, and he also knew that she was right about not knowing anything about him. He didn’t know anything about her either. How could she believe anything he would have to say to her and vice versa?

“I would have you believe the truth.” He finally said after thinking it over.

“A nd how would I know that you were telling me the truth? I can’t even see your eyes.” She yawned with the latter. She wanted to see him, but her eyes would barely stay open to see anything. The back of her own eye lids were what her mind and body were telling her she needed to be looking at.

He couldn’t have shown himself to her if he wanted to, only by having her look through the mirror at him. He only wished that he knew what he would look like to her. He had seen himself in the mirrors, but he had turned them all around or had them covered many years before. It wasn’t until tonight that he had caught his own reflection again. It was exactly as he had remembered himself though, after such a long time not much had changed about him, in the mirror that was.

“If seeing me will help you to believe in me than here I am.” He stepped in front of the mirror and turned it towards her. He then saw that her eyes were closed and the glass of wine she held was just about to tip out of her hand. He reached down to grab it and laid it on the nightstand beside her.

“Miss Drew?” He said quietly.

“Hmm?” She mumbled back still with her eyes closed.

“I am here for you to see. Would you talk to me now?” He asked near her ear.

“Of course.” She said and fluttered her eyes open.

“My Prince Charming, you’ve come to save me from the evil sorcerer.” She said smiling right at him as if she was looking right into his eyes and then she drifted off to sleep.

He knew that she didn’t really see him and lay down beside her. He also knew that she was out of it and pressed his luck a little further by putting his arm around her and snuggling close. He thought that he would just enjoy the warmth of a human being, the feel of a beautiful woman next to him for just a moment, but somehow, someway, he slept for the first time in one hundred and fifty years.

Drew woke the next morning feeling more rested than ever. She felt absolutely, wonderfully fresh and clear headed. She still had a lot to do around the house and was ready to get started. Trimming up the yard and the cemetery were the first things on her list. She also had some more dusting to do. A swim in the pool would feel great after all of that. What she really wanted to do was to stay away from the paint brush for a couple of days though she just wasn’t allowing herself to admit it.

She made it a point to call Liza first thing though. She had to let her friend know that she was doing just fine. Liza didn’t act quite as suspicious as the day before, but she wasn’t really up to completely believing that everything was ok either. Drew calculated that Liza only asked her about ten times if she wanted to come and live with her. Drew calculated that she told her about fifteen times that she was fine. So, one of them had to finally give in.

As soon as she hung up the phone she headed for the kitchen. Drew decided that it was time to start eating on a regular base as well. She didn’t want to lose her mind again. (If indeed that was what had happened.) After cramming down a bowl of Special K and a banana she was energized and ready to go to work.

She started out the door and realized that there had been no sign of her new friend that morning.

“Brendan?” She called out. “Brendan, are you here?”

“Where else would I be?” A voice answered from what sounded like the top of the stairs.

“Oh, right. I don’t know, maybe Heaven (or Hell).” She said the latter part quietly.

“Actually,” He said very close to her ear all of a sudden, “I have been patiently waiting for either one for a very long time. Unfortunately, for some unknown reason I am stuck in this God forsaken house. For all of eternity it seems.”

“You can’t leave the house?” She said half embarrassed that he heard her and half pitying him that he was stuck there.

“No. Every time I try I end up back in here.” He said annoyed.

“Well, I was going to go clean up the yard and the cem…e…tery.” She said slowly. “Sorry.”

“What cemetery?” He asked.

“Yours, Lezetta’s, and your sisters.” She said sadly.

“I see.” He said. “Why don’t you have a servant to do those things for you? A lady has no business in working the grounds.”

“Well, I am what you w ould call mid to lower class and mid to notta on the lady part. I guess mostly lower class now since I am unemployed. Either way, I can’t afford a servant. Plus, this is the 21st century. Women do a lot more for their selves than they use to.” She replied.

“I see, and how is it that you managed to end up here if you have no money. This house was built for the upper class. It is a very expensive home. I can’t imagine that a woman, lady or not, would be able to afford it without a proper dowry.”

“Well, I did have some money saved up, and I did have a job. I purchased this house with my own money. It was very cheap because a very boisterous tenant came with the home. I got a great deal because no one else wanted it in other words.”

She felt his breath on her neck now. It was cool at first then it felt warmer, she assumed the closer he got. She closed her eyes.

“And why is it that you want it, Miss Drew?” He said his lips against her skin now.

“Want what? Oh, the house, you mean.” She said a littleembarrassed then opened her eyes. “There is something I have to do here.” She said almost a whisper. “I mean,” She said louder, “I don’t know why I said that.” She cleared her throat and took a step back towards the door. “I needed a place to live and this was perfect. It spoke to my heart. If you will excuse me I have to go now. I have a lot of work to do today.”

She went out of the door quickly then, leaving it opened behind her. He wanted to follow her but; he knew that he couldn’t, of course. He tried to holler after her but somehow his voice was trapped inside just as his soul was. He didn’t care how trapped he was though he knew that his heart followed her and he had no idea why. He did know that he wished that it wouldn’t.

Drew pushed the lawn mower with one hand and carried the weed eater in the other hand through the cemetery gates. It felt colder there somehow even though it was only nearing September. She picked up the branches that had fallen from the trees around the cemetery and the candles that lay around the grave of Lezetta. They had been newly lit she noticed. Why would anyone be worshipping a no name witch one hundred and fifty one years after her death? She wondered.

She felt a warm breeze blow by when she headed for the smallest grave. She now knew that it was probably Brendan’s sister’s grave even though she hadn’t really given it a second glance either time she had been there before. The trees there were beautiful yet sad. The moss that hung from their crooked branches made them look even more mystical, like they had a story to tell, a very old story that she wanted so badly to hear.

Mary Ann O’Keefe 1840 to 1859 the tomb read. “Beloved sister, May you fly in peace with the Angels.”

“You were only nineteen years old.” Drew said to the grave that lay before her. “I’m so sorry sweet heart.” She felt her eyes tear up as she saw the child Angel on top of the tomb holding a bird with its wings spread. It reminded her so much of herself when she was young for some reason, before her stepfather. “So, Lezetta held his heart what does the bird stand for? Freedom I suppose. Were you not so free here?

Why would Lezetta still hold his heart if she murdered you? You were his sister after all, and he had to bury you first. There is more to the story isn’t there? Did she really murder you?” Drew continued to speak to Mary Ann as she brushed the leaves off of the tomb with her hand. She felt like she was talking to a child even though she knew Mary Ann hadn’t really been a child anymore.

“Maybe I will have to find out the truth. Maybe that is why this house fell so easily into my hands.” She said aloud as she looked back at the house. “Your brother is very nice. I wish I could have known him in his time. I would have been an outcast then I suppose. I’m not much on being proper and such.”

She traced Mary Ann’s name with her finger then paused over the O in thought. “I will find out the truth for you Mary Ann. I believe that was why I was sent here.”

Drew felt a harsh cold breeze blow across her face, almost as if she had been slapped. If she hadn’t been living with a poltergeist she would have thought that was crazy. She was certain that she must have over done her welcome for the day. As she started to leave the cemetery, mower and weed eater in tow, she felt someone push her in the back.

She fell forward and then knocked the lawn mower over on its side as she tried to catch herself. The blades of the lawn mower lay less than an inch from her face. The lawn mower started up then just as Drew was reaching for it to lift herself. It cut the inside of her palm fairly deep. She screamed and felt someone else pull her back. She felt the tension in the air. It was so thick she thought she could cut it with a knife or, the lawn mower blade as it was evidently pretty sharp as well.

She stumbled her way towards the fence. She swore she saw the leaves move toward her as if someone was running and kicking them out of their path. Then she heard a young woman’s voice scream, “Run!” only it was more like the fading end of an echo.

She ran as fast as she could back to the house. There had only been one other time when she had been that scared in her life. As soon as she reached the house she slammed the door behind her. She didn’t know what the hell had happened in that cemetery. Whoever was there wanted to harm or even kill her and they had almost succeeded. It felt as though two spirits had been fighting over her. She looked down at her hand that was now shaking and covered with blood. She felt herself go limp and the world started to fade.

“Brendan!” She tried to cry out but it sounded more like a croak. And then she fainted.

When Drew woke she was in her bed. She felt the pain in her hand and looked down to see that it was wrapped tightly in one of her white tank tops.

“I don’t think Clorox is going to clean that up.” She moaned as she saw the start of blood seeping through.

“What the bloody hell did you do to yourself?” She heard him say beside her.

“I didn’t do it.” Drew answered him weakly.

“Well then who the hell did?” She felt him stand up off of the bed. “Who would cut your beautiful hand?”

She blushed. “Thank you, and I don’t know. I imagine it was either your sister or your dear Lezetta. Your spirit seems to be stuck in this house and they are the only other people buried in that cemetery besides yourself.”

“What?” She felt him sit beside her again. “You believe that Mary Ann and Lezetta’s spirits haunt the cemetery?” He said worried.

“I s it so hard to believe that you are not the only ghost in the world?” She said sitting up. “Are you that naïve or are you just that full of yourself?”

“Neither. I had just hoped that they were able to move on, to a better place.” He said sadly.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She said hatefully then stood up.

“Why are you angry?” He said.

“Well, let’s see. Where do I start exactly?” She went to the bathtub and turned it on.

“First of all, someone slapped my face when I was telling your sister that something fishy was going on. Then, as I was leaving, someone tried to kill me with my own damn lawnmower. Well, its Liza’s lawnmower, but you get the point.

Then, I pass out and when I wake up I find that not only the shirt that I was wearing is blood stained and that another innocent shirt that had absolutely nothing to do with it,” She held up her hand then as if to call attention to the shirt wrapped around her wound, “has been ruined as well.”

She took off the shirt she was wearing along with the one on her hand and threw them off to the side. She then stripped the rest of her clothes off and hopped into the bath.

He cleared his throat to remind her that he was still in the room. She didn’t hear him though nor did she seem to care as she kept on rambling.

“Now, you are upset because your sister and your lover are roaming around in the cemetery,which don’t get me wrong I completely understand, but hello, one of them tried to get me to join them in the land of the dead! I am so not ready to go there, especially after what I have seen of it the last few days. It doesn’t really seem to be looking all that promising after all.”

“I can see why you are angry.” He interrupted her.

“Well, good. Now, do you want to tell me what the hell happened one hundred and fifty years ago? The truth I mean! Whatever that dumb bimbo told me at the library can’t be the complete truth. Otherwise, my faith tells me that Miss Mary Ann would be flying around in heaven probably playing the harp right now and Miss Lezetta would be burning in hell. You? You may be in purgatory or something I haven’t figured that one out either. I’ve always heard that if you kill yourself you go to hell, but obviously not.” She slowed herself down then realizing that she had gone too far.

“Brendan, either everything that I have ever been raised to believe is not true or everything that girl told me was a lie. So, what is it Brendan? I mean, my house and my property are being haunted by some really pissy ghosts and I want to know what the hell I did to deserve it!” She splashed the water then with her hands. It burned her open wound like an open fire making her scream, snapping her out of her rant. It also made her realize that she was stark naked and in the same room with a male ghost. She blushed and covered her breasts.

“Are you enjoying the show?” She said calmly.

“As a matter of fact.” He answered her. “Would you mind telling me what you learned at the library?”

“I already told you.” She said. “Could you please handme my robe?” She thought that she caught a glimpse of him for a split second as he moved across the room. He wore a long black coat and his hair was coal black, long and wavy.

“You have beautiful hair.” She said.

“As do… can you see me?” He asked warily.

“I only saw you from behind for a moment. You were turned around the whole time?”

“For the most part.” He said slyly.

She had to smile. He would be a gentleman she imagined, but the word gentleman still contained the word man. Somehow he had made her calm down though just hearing his voice. He was like a stress ball, only she couldn’t squeeze him. The thought of squeezing him however gave her goose bumps, the good ones again.

“My brother was the one with the beautiful hair.” He said thinking back. “The girls all flocked to him when we were just lads.”

“You have a brother?” Drew asked curiosly.

“Aye, we were twins. Danny’s hair was a bit darker than mine though. I suppose everything about him was a bit darker. The lad was troubled most of his young life. I am not sure what happened to him as a man. He disappeared when we were fifteen.” He spoke as he went for her robe.

“You told me that you read of me at the library. Who was the girl that you speak of?”

“Turn around” She said as her robe floated closer to her.

“Of course, my lady.” That made her smile again.

“I don’t know who she was.” She said as she stood up and put on her robe. She carefully placed her hand through the arm as to not touch her hand. Luckily she always kept a few supplies around as she was quite prone to burning or cutting herself. She dug into her vanity drawer and found the little box. There were some bandages and some Neosporin inside.

“Here, let me help you.” He said.

She felt his hand on hers. It was warm and a bit rough for a business man which she assumed he had been for as rich as he was. She always imagined that if you could feel a ghost it would be cold, but not Brendan.

“Put this stuff on it first. It will help keep it from getting infected.” She closed her eyes as it was a little strange watching Neosporin just squirt itself out of the tube and rub itself onto her hand.

“She was the librarian. She told me that Lezetta was jealous of your affection for your sister and that she was a witch. She murdered Mary Ann and then was burned for her witchery, and for the murder I suppose. She also said that you hung yourself a year later. Is that true?”

He remained silent as he wrapped her hand with the bandage. She opened her eyes to see the tape magically glide itself along the crease of the bandage.

“You should call for a doctor. That looks to be a pretty nasty cut.” He said still holding her hand. “I have money, hidden around the house if you need it for the doctor’s fee.”

She saw his eyes for a moment though they were transparent and she caught her breath. They were the biggest, darkest eyes that she had ever seen, besides the man from her dreams.

“Brendan?” She asked. “What did you do for a living, I mean, when you were alive.”

He let go of her hand and she heard his footsteps across the hardwood floor, walking away from her.

“I lived off of my parent’s money for the most part. I inherited quite a bit after they passed. I wrote music now and then, but not that anyone could see or hear. I suppose I should have shared it but ‘twas mine own.”

“Please show me yourself?” There was a slight prickling in the air. She could almost feel the power of the feelings as they started to grow between them. She knew that they were becoming friends. She also knew that if she wasn’t careful, those “friendship” feelings could get them both hurt.

He had made his way back to her silently and picked up her hands with both of his. It made her jump, more from surprise than being afraid. Just then she heard her phone ring. She felt his hands jerk in surprise as well just before he dropped them.

“Damn it. Liza, I called you this morning.” She said to herself as she dug through the pocket of her jeans that lay on the floor next to the bath.

It wasn’t Liz a though, she saw on the caller ID. It was her mother again. “Ugh, what did I do to deserve a call from her two days in a row?”

She heard him snicker and she wished again that she could see his face. It would make conversations with him so much easier, and something about his voice made her believe that he wouldn’t be so bad to look at.

“Hello again, mother.” She said and rolled her eyes. She placed it on speaker phone and sat the phone down on her vanity. She picked up the hairbrush and began to brush her hair.

“Drew?” Her mother sobbed. “Drew, Honey there is something that I have to tell you.”

“What is it mother? Going through another divorce?” Drew had no sympathy for her mother’s broken hearted love affairs. It was her own fault; she sure knew how to pick them.

“Drew, I need to tell you something and I need you to listen very carefully. This is very serious.” She heard the sincerity in her mother’s voice this time. “I need you to know that I am here for you, ok?”

“Ok, mom, what is it?” Dr ew moved the mirror towards her now; she started to braid her hair, the best that she could with a sore h, and waited for her mother to speak. Instead she heard more sobbing.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” She dropped her hands. She watched the mirror turn itself around, but not before she caught another glimpse of that gorgeous long black hair and then felt her hair being braided where she had left off. She closed her eyes. Being pampered actually felt really good. It was something that she could definitely get used to. Plus, the throbbing in her hand appreciated it as well.

“It’s Jack.” Her mother cried loudly this time and Drew sat up straight in the chair. She felt the gentle tug of the braiding slow down. “What about him mother?” Drew said through her teeth as she felt the blood drain from her face. “You know that I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t even want to hear his name.”

“He was murdered. I always wished terrible things on him after I found him trying to rape my baby girl but…” Drew flipped the phone shut. She didn’t want Brendan to hear anymore. She didn’t want to hear anymore herself.

“Excuse me.” Drew said and ran for the toilet. She threw up. She had never felt sicker in her life.

She lay her head down on the toilet seat and cried. She cried for what seemed like an eternity. Then, when she couldn’t cry anymore she felt him lift her up off of the floor. She was floating across the room towards her bed. Once she was tucked into her bed she closed her eyes and laid her head back on the pillows. He brought her a warm rag and began to wipe her face with it.

“You are so sweet.” She sobbed. “I am such a child. I promised myself nothing would ever make me cry again and now I let that son of a bitch do it again. He doesn’t deserve my tears.”

“I’m sure that he doesn’t.” He said softly. He had brought her a glass of wine and placed it up to her lips now. She kept her eyes closed and drank deeply.

“Did you bring the bottle?” She asked. “Aye.” He laughed. “Would you like more?”

“Please.” She said.

“I didn’t hang myself.” He said as he poured more wine. She opened her eyes again though she didn’t see him.

“Let me see you.” She said again trying to hold back the tears that desperately wanted to fall again.

“Not now. You’ve had enough surprises for one day. Get some rest. I just wanted you to know that I didn’t hang myself. Or, kill myself in any other way for that matter.”

“I’m glad to hear that. What happened to you then?” Drew asked. Her mind was beginning to free itself of Jack. She knew that it was probably the wine, but it was Brendan’s doing as well and she appreciated it.

“I suppose you won’t be letting me get away without telling you now will you?” I don’t know to be honest with you. It was here in mine own home. I was upstairs in my study and just getting ready to call it a night when something struck me in the back of the head. I felt the blood run down the back of my neck and the next thing I know I’m looking through what seemed like a tunnel.”

He saw her reach for him blindly and he held her hand with his. She relaxed then. “Could you hold me while you tell me the rest? Please?” She said and sniffled again.

He put his arm around her then and she laid her head on his chest. It was strange but she felt so at home. She closed her eyes. He smelled of firewood and mints, a manly smell. She opened her eyes again and as if to look up at him, even though she couldn’t see him, and said, “Please, tell me more.”

“As you wish.” He whispered at first as his throat felt very dry. He wasn’t sure what was choking him up more, feeling her in his arms, willingly, or remembering the night of his death. They were both very different feelings. If a ghost could be emotional he was definitely in a whirlwind of it. “It was very cold, I was shivering. I could see that I was in my study. I saw no one there with me.

I felt the back of my head for blood and there was nothing there. When I looked down at my hand I saw my body lying on the floor. There was so much blood. My vision was fading. I couldn’t see anything around me, just what lay right in front of me. I heard the footsteps walking away, but when I turned to see who it was it was too late. They were already gone. I was too stunned to chase after them right away. I turned around and just stood there, staring at my own self. When I came to my senses, if you could call it that, I ran after the being. The front door was left open. When I tried to follow I kept finding myself back in the study.” She felt him shiver.

“I’m so sorry, Brendan. You never found out who it was?” She asked.

“No. I never did. Why someone would say that I hung myself is beyond me. An autopsy clearly would have shown that I was struck in the back of the head.”

“Maybe there was never a n autopsy. Things were covered up back then a lot easier than they are now.” She sat up and reached for her wine glass. After she drank an entire glass in almost one gulp she asked, “Did Lezetta murder your sister?”

“I don’t believe so. I have no proof . They were both out that day. Lezetta’s alibi was not with me. They burned her on my property. I lost the woman that I loved and mine own sister on the same day, both on my land.” She felt him shiver again and held him tighter.

“They killed Lezetta the same day that Mary Ann was found? There was no trial?” She asked amazed.

“There wasn’t time for a trial. Some of the people that lived around here snatched her up and drug her out here where the cemetery is now. They tied her to a tree that once stood there and set her on fire. I was clueless as to what was going on. I was told that they put a sack over her eyes and stuffed her mouth with a rag soaked in lantern oil to keep her from cursing them. If she was an evil woman, a bad witch, than she bewitched me, as I never saw it.”

“Where were you when all of this was going on?”

“I was at the morgue, trying to find out what had happened to my sister. They told me that her eyes had been hollowed out and that some strange words and symbols had been carved into her arms and legs. Later I was told in secrecy that some of the markings had to have been made before the day that she was murdered. None of it made any since and to this day I am still baffled. I never got to see her body. They burned it as well because of the assumed witchcraft.” He paused and she felt his fingers rubbing her hands. “Who is Jack?”

“That is going to require another glass of wine.” She said taking a deep breath and sitting up again.

After she filled her glass of wine and took another large drink she cleared her throat.

“Jack was my step -father. I hated him from the first moment that I saw him. He was such a creep. I tried to tell my mother over and over again that she was a fool, she of course wouldn’t listen. She never did when it came to men. Love can be very blinding, I suppose.”

“You don’t really know though do you? Have you ever been in love, Miss Drew?” He asked brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Never before.” She said.

“Before what?” He asked, almost a whis per, he was sure that he didn’t want to hear the answer to that. As far as he knew, and he had been with her every day, she wasn’t courting any one.

“I was only twelve years old at the time.” She said, ignoring his question, “My mother had to work late and when she finally did get home she found him on top of me, so dangerously close to taking what every girl should hold precious to them.” She looked up to where she thought that his face may be again. “I know that times are different now than they were in your time, people don’t wait until they are married. It should still be special, you know?”

She felt his grip tighten around her arm. When she winced he loosened up and rubbed gently, absent mindedly where he hadn’t meant to hurt her. His body still felt tense next to hers though.

“No man should ever take what doesn’t belong to him. Not ever, no matter how badly he desires.” He said sincerely.

Neither one of them spoke for a very long time. He could feel her breathing getting heavier and knew that she had drifted off to sleep. He slowly moved his arm out from behind her and gently laid her head on the pillow. He bent down to kiss her very lightly on the forehead. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her lips. They weren’t his to take though, and he could feel his non beating heart breaking, knowing that they never would be.

Drew dreamed that night of a very tall man with coal black hair and eyes green as the Irish hills. They were walking through beautiful gardens that had been planted around the castle, holding hands in the moonlight. She wore a long evening gown of ivory silk and flowers braided into her hair, pink ones. She did love pink. He was charming in a dark suit, his long wavy hair tide back into a pony tail. He was so striking and in her dream he was hers. In her dream they had just been married and he would forever be with her. She pulled her head up to look at him and to claim the kiss that was placed on his lips for her. The moon shown in his eyes and in his eyes the moon melted and turned black. For the first time since she had been dreaming of this man she felt afraid for her life.