Chapter 12
Eric stretched out his back and then leaned again against the door cutting into his spine. But there was no way, even if he had a bruise for the next week, he would ever complain about sitting there, holding Charlotte. Indeed, he felt no pain.
But answering her question wouldn’t be easy. Moving, he sat in the seat with his legs dangling over the edge. At least his shoulders were against the stuffed back of the padded seat.
She curled into him again, this time on his lap.
“Well, once upon a time, my family ran a prosperous dairy. It’s one of the oldest and few-remaining family-run dairies around Sugar Creek. Everything was going great until my father died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you.” He coughed to let the emotion out of his throat. “My dad ran an efficient dairy. He treated the cows and workers well, paid the workers what they were worth, and offered a great product.”
“He sounds like a great dad.”
“He would’ve liked you.” He winked.
She ducked her head. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. He liked smart women. Obviously—he married my mom. My mom can do anything. She quilts, she makes apple cider, she used to sing in the church choir years ago, and played the flute.”
“She multi-talented.”
He gave her a little squeeze. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“I’d love to.” Charlotte clutched his hand.
A warmth spread over him.
“So, you came home because your dad died?”
“Sorta.” He shifted again. This was where the story really got hard. “After he died, my older brother James took over the dairy.”
He focused on the seat in front of him. How could he talk about James? “He, uh, didn’t honor Pa’s wishes to run the dairy as he had. Instead, he let a lot of things go. When I confronted him about it, I wasn’t very nice.” He paused. “I suppose it was probably the grief talking.” He inhaled. “But I said some unkind things, accused him of not wanting to uphold the family name.” Tears pricked his eyes. He wiped them before Charlotte could see, not that she could in the dark. “But, then James left.”
“He just left?”
“One morning I went out to the milking shed to bring in my ladies, and he never showed. My words drove him away.”
“That must’ve been hard.” Charlotte reached up and soothed his cheek. Her touch was wonderfully healing.
He couldn’t even bring himself to tell her the rest. Where he once felt bliss, anger flooded his chest.
Her support meant more than anything right now.
“Anyway, now the dairy is struggling. And if the southern part gets annexed to Sugar Creek, then the little money we do have will get eaten up in city taxes. We’ll be taxed twice. Once by the city and once by the county. We can’t survive that. We’ll have to fold.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn’t even mention the burden of buying a new pump. Had he told his mother yet? And there were some debts. His mother was vague on the details. “The thing that breaks my heart is that my dad wanted this dairy to take care of her. And now, we’ll all be destitute and looking for jobs.” He didn’t have any college education. How would he make his way in the world? Maybe he could find another local dairy to take him on as a dairy foreman.
Charlotte sat silent for a long time. “I understand now why you want the proposition to fail. I’m so conflicted, but at least let’s not be enemies anymore. Truce?”
“Truce.”
“Shall we shake on it?”
“I’d prefer another means to seal our newly minted deal of not being enemies.”
She smiled from his lap. He bent to kiss her. Her face lit by the dawn creeping over the hills like a thief.
A rose-colored sky filled the windows while they kissed.
The sound of car tires digging into the road didn’t stop his caresses. He didn’t want to be saved. Not yet anyway. He focused on Charlotte.
Somewhere nearby, a car door slammed. “Blood? What happened here?”
Angie’s voice.
“Eric? You guys alive in there?” Angie banged on the truck. “Looks like someone died out here.”
Finally, he broke from Charlotte. He’d better let his sister know what happened before she panicked. “I’ll be back.” He opened the door to a flood of sunlight.
He faced Angie. “A bear wandered in here last night.”
“A bear?” She glanced around as if it were still here.
He pointed to the spot in the bushes. “He came in from over there, climbed the tailgate. Broke into the cooler. Ate the last of the steaks.” The smell of meat and bear musk hung heavy on the quilts.
Angie looked on the mess in the bed of the truck. “Mom will be mad her quilts are ruined. Would’ve been nice if you had your keys.” Angie held out her palm, the keys dangling from her fingers. She produced a guilty smile. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, thank you.” He snatched them and started for the front of the truck. He needed to get home and oversee the milking at the dairy.
“Also, I thought you’d like to know.”
He turned, walking backwards.
“James is back. He came home early this morning.”
His heart thundered. Now he would have to face James.
Charlotte rode home with Eric, holding hands over the center console. He was unusually quiet. What did his sister say to him outside? She couldn’t quite hear. Whatever it was, his mood changed drastically. Instead of talking, he kept his gaze on the road and stared intently out the windshield.
At last, they got to the Laurent mansion.
Charlotte, exhausted though she was, wouldn’t have traded last night for anything. The closeness she’d shared with Eric was a night she’d treasure for a long time.
But what kind of future did they have? It wasn’t like she could stay in this small town and help orphans overseas. How could she fulfill her dream from Sugar Creek? Even law school would be impossible.
She slipped her hand around the doorhandle and propped open the door.
“Wait.” Leaving the engine running, Eric jumped out and held the door for her.
Once on the ground, he leaned her against the car, one hand on the window over her head, blocking the morning wind. With the other, he stroked a piece of her hair near her chin. “I had a great time tonight, even if it was a little scary and a little cold.”
“I only remember being hot.” She looked up through her lashes, a shy smile on her face.
He grinned, ducking down for a kiss.
The warmth of him against her warmed even her chills from the cool metal at her back. He kissed her top lip then her bottom lip in sweet undulations.
Breaking from him, she glanced up. “I’d better go. I don’t want to, but I have to.” She wouldn’t be doing any campaigning today. She would have to talk to Preston. Maybe there was another solution to Proposition 11.
“Can I take you to the Fall Festival?”
“What is it?”
“It’s tractor pulls and corn mazes, tug of war, pie-eating contests.”
“Sounds like fun. When is it?”
“Pick you up October 8th. And then maybe we can go to the costume ball later in the month.”
“Sounds great!”
He nodded. “We can discuss the details later. I better jet.” He snatched her hand and walked her up to the door, where they kissed again under the great porch window. With a longing glance over his shoulder, he walked back to the truck.
When she opened the door, heat poured over her. She tiptoed upstairs, in case Preston was home, and fell into bed without removing her clothes and without caring whether her ghost was there or not.
When she awoke, her limbs felt like sandbags. She blinked blurry eyes and sat up. Again, the history of Sugar Creek book sat open to a page on her nightstand. She hadn’t read it.
Goosebumps pricked her skin. Standing she slapped the book closed and ran into the bathroom.
All alone in the house, she washed and dressed, checking outside the shower curtain every once in a while, just in case. Feeling a little better after a shower, she went downstairs for… She checked the time. Half-past noon. Lunch?
She opened the fridge and grabbed leftovers to microwave. She opened the door of the built-in, and when she closed it, she noticed the reflection of a man again.
Yelping, she jumped and turned. No one was there.
She must be imagining things.
Then the whispering started.
Despite her fear, she called out, “Who’s there?”
No answer.
“Preston if you’re playing some Halloween joke on me, it’s not funny.”
No answer but the wind.
She glanced to the steam on the inside of the microwave door.
HELP ME, PLEASE
She gulped and she tried again.
“If you’re trying to communicate with me, I’m not scared.” Yet her voice wavered. “You can talk to me. I’ll listen. Show yourself, and I promise I’ll be patient.”
Nothing.
She shook her head.
Then she saw him.
On the back porch, a man in a bowler hat and suspenders stood in front of the glass doors.
She stared, unable to move.
He looked at her.
Dropping her leftovers, she screamed.
He disappeared.
Rattled, and with hot splatters on the kitchen floor, she covered her face in her hands.
“What is going on? I can’t help you if I don’t know who you are. I’m sorry. I am scared. Help me not be scared.”
Nothing happened.
Trembling, she grabbed a paper towel and wiped up her fallen lunch.
When she turned, she saw the history of Sugar Creek book again—on the counter, open to a page.
She froze.
She’d left it in her room.
Quietly, she crept over to the book, hair rising on her neck. Something important must be in the book. The ghost wanted her to see.
Then she saw it. How did she not before? A man with the same mustache and bowler hat as the man in the picture standing with a group of people. She searched for his name.
Jules Laurent
She almost dropped the book.
He was a relative. Of course he was. Why else would he be here in their house? She needed to find out what he was doing here. And why he’s still haunting the place. “Hello? Are you there, Jules?”
The phone rang, shattering the silence. With trembling hands, she checked the caller ID. A picture of her and Westley flashed on her phone. She hovered a finger over the answer button. Her heart twisted inside. Did she really want to talk to him? She hadn’t even listened to the last voicemail.
After what Eric said in the car, perhaps it was time to let him know she was over him.
She clicked on answer. “Hello?” She struggled to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
“Charlotte. I’ve made a mistake. I am so sorry.”
She glanced around to see if she could see Jules.
“I want you back in my life.”
“I, uh.” The apology caught her off guard. But this was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Her imagined future with Westley could be hers. But what about Eric? “I’m not sure I’m ready to come back to Toronto.”
“I want you to think about it. What is there for you in Maple Creek?”
“Sugar Creek,” she corrected him. He didn’t even know where she was? But he had a fair point. What could Sugar Creek offer in her future? Her stomach roiled along with her thoughts. She sensed Jules’s presence still around, watching her, listening to this conversation, although she couldn’t see him.
She thought about what Eric said, his words strengthening her spine. “One apology won’t make me come back.”
“I get it. Take some time to think about it.”
A sharp snap came from the other side of the kitchen. Something fell. “Um.” Should she say she was interested in Eric? Should she confront him about the woman at the Opera House? Should she pluck him like a weed? Did he deserve more grace than that? Before she could answer, she heard him say, “All right. See you soon. Bye.”
He was gone.
Still in thought, she put down her phone and walked over to the far side of the kitchen. A rolling pin had fallen to the ground. Had Jules done that?