Epilogue
I can’t believe we’re here,” Rachael said, holding a map of the 150,000 acres that MJ now owned along with the plantation house and several outbuildings.
Maddie pulled at the strap of the hardhat on her head. It was tight and uncomfortable, but MJ threatened to punish her if she took it off. She wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but she was tempted to toss the hardhat to the floor to find out.
He stood with Merrick and Joan at a drafting table, pouring over blueprints. He hadn’t told her what he was going to do with the property, but she knew he was making it into a business like Rachael and Merrick had done with Turtle Tear. MJ told her it was a surprise and he wasn’t ready to tell her just yet.
It was Maddie’s second visit to the plantation, but her father and Rachael’s first. MJ and Merrick had lugged a big steamer trunk down out of the attic. Along with some dead bugs, there were photographs, diaries, a few ornate silver pieces, and enough history on Ingrid and Archibald’s family to keep Rachael entranced for days.
“Lookie here,” Maddie’s dad said, shuffling over to them with an old newspaper. “This is from 1974. Read this article.” He tapped the side panel of the paper, handing it over to Maddie.
Ghost of Woman Communicates From Beyond
Outside St. Petersburg sits an old antebellum plantation house that used to be home to the Weston family. The Weston Sugar Plantation operated from the 1830s until 1865 when the mill burned down near the end of the Civil War.
Attempts by the current owners to renovate the plantation house have been thwarted at every turn by a ghost they call Ingrid.
Legend has it the woman is Ingrid (Burkhart) Weston, wife of Archibald Weston, son of the original owners of the plantation. The Weston’s and the Burkhart’s were Florida’s Civil War version of the Montague’s and Capulet’s, making Ingrid and Archibald true star-crossed lovers.
Archibald built a home for his beloved on Turtle Tear Island in the Everglades where they lived and raised their own family. Although Ingrid died while staying at the Weston Plantation, her body is said to be buried on Turtle Tear Island.
“She’s not with her body,” the current plantation owners say of Ingrid’s spirit. “She’s here, but she wants to go back.”
How do they know Ingrid’s wishes? She’s told them.
“Take me back to Turtle Tear was written in the condensation on the attic window after a storm,” they say. “She’s written it in the dust on the attic floor too, and every time we bring a crew in to remodel the attic she shows herself, scatters their tools, barricades the stairs and scares them away.”
“I feel bad,” the current owner says of Ingrid’s predicament. “I’d take her to Turtle Tear if I knew how.”
For now, she’s stuck at the Weston Plantation, desperate to get back to the island home her Romeo built her.
“We have to help her,” Rachael said, taking the newspaper out of Maddie’s hand. “We have to take her back.”
“How? I mean, it’s only a legend.” Maddie didn’t want to discourage Rachael. She knew how tightly Rachael’s heart was wrapped up in Turtle Tear’s history.
“I don’t know,” Rachael said. “But the answer is here somewhere.” She lifted both hands, palms to the air. “Ingrid’s here somewhere. Maybe she can tell us.”
“Maybe so,” Maddie’s dad said, limping away. She couldn’t tell if he was serious, or if he thought Rachael was nuts.
Maddie wasn’t so sure herself, even if she was a self-proclaimed ghost hunter show addict. MJ had told her the ghost in the west wing of the Rocha Estate had been Nadia. Somehow, she thought she’d known all along that the girl was real, and faced with the possibility of a ghost in real life wasn’t something she was prepared to deal with.
“Find anything good?” MJ called, watching her from across the room.
“We found some interesting things.” She smiled, wishing everyone would disappear and she could be alone with him.
Since he’d been working on the Weston Plantation, she’d seen a side of him she never knew existed. She saw the man she always knew he’d be emerging.
She was changing too. Trusting him to be strong for both of them. Trusting her instincts. Letting go and opening herself, becoming vulnerable to him.
Their love had grown because of everything they’d been through. They understood it was worth fighting for and wouldn’t always come easy, but they knew it was a love that very few people ever found. The once-in-a-lifetime kind.
The Rachael and Merrick kind.
The Archibald and Ingrid kind.
“I’ll be right back,” MJ told his dad. He took his hardhat off, rounded the drafting table and strode toward Maddie.
Merrick glanced over his shoulder and winked at her. Rachael tried and failed to hide a wide smile, diving into the trunk with both hands. Maddie’s dad seemed to be the only one who wasn’t in on whatever the others knew.
Grinning, she stepped back as MJ reached her. “What is this? What’s going on?”
He grabbed her hands and pulled her to him, taking her hardhat off and kissing her. “Come with me for a minute.”
MJ held her hand and they walked out the grand, double front doors onto the wide covered porch with huge white columns running up to the roof. She walked down the brick front steps beside him into the bright afternoon sunlight.
The grass was emerald green, the sky a bright autumn blue. It was her favorite season. They walked down the front path. The breeze blew her hair. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.
He looked back over his shoulder at the house and stopped. “Right here. Turn around.”
She spun and took in the tall, sprawling white house. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe it’s yours.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took her hands and faced her. “When I look at this house, standing right in this spot, do you know what I see?”
“What?”
“I see you in a big, white dress. You’re standing right here with your dad. I’m at the bottom of the stairs waiting for you.”
Her eyes prickled with tears. He smiled and brushed her hair back over her shoulder.
“Music starts to play—not Beck unless he gets a lot better by then—and your dad escorts you down the front walkway. When the two of you reach where I’m standing, he places your hand in mine.”
Maddie couldn’t hold her tears back. They flowed freely down over her cheeks.
“Mads, I want this to be our home. Not a business. I want to bring our five kids home from the hospital here. I want to have holidays here. I want to get old with you here.”
He knelt down and took her hand. “This is not a proposal. Not yet. The next time I go down on one knee it will be.” He took a silver ring out of his pocket and held it up to show her. A tiny, antique heart shaped lock and key were mounted on the filigree ring. It took Maddie’s breath away.
“I’m asking for your heart,” he said, “before I ask for your hand.”
Maddie fell to her knees in front of him. “My heart could only be more yours if I took it out of my chest and handed it to you. I would love to make this a home with you MJ. You’ve always been my home.”
He held her hand and slid the ring in place on her finger. Then he kissed her, the promise between them strong and solid