Ghosts of the Falls (Entangled Ever After) (3 page)

Chapter Four

Dutch ached. He assumed his corporeal body to mask his presence and sat on the porch of Jade’s cabin, listening to the viola, trying to will the pain away.

He’d never felt sensation of any kind without his physical body prior to the invisible chains created by Jade’s words. Stuck underground in the hollow of his own grave, he’d forced himself not to struggle against the sensation of being beaten over every inch of his body. But the exorcism hadn’t come. Hours passed. When the searing pain ebbed, he’d fought and struggled until he’d broken free.

But discomfort lingered. He longed to head for the cold water of the river, but he remained outside Jade’s cabin, drawn to the rhythmic sounds of the viola. He’d grown up with music of this kind and hadn’t heard the like in decades.

She played for an hour, but all too soon, the melodies silenced and the light from the window blinked out. He retreated to a section of the river far from the park guests and waded into the soothing water.

If only she’d finished the exorcism, all of this would be over. But of course she’d stayed her hand; or rather, her words. She’d seen through his “bad-spirit” charade, and she possessed too much heart to exorcise an innocent. Question was, did she have enough compassion to exorcise a spirit who asked it of her?

…

The morning sun warming his back, Dutch knelt at the base of a hollow tree and pulled out the suitcase a tourist had forgotten at the park years ago. Inside, he kept the items he’d gathered over the years from Hutchinson Park’s Lost and Found and from vacant campsites. It amazed him what people managed to forget. Trying his best to keep up with the times, he would toss items and replace them every decade or so. Today, the effort would finally pay off.

He changed into shoes, a pair of jeans, and a button-down shirt. Unsure of how much he needed, he pocketed all the money.

An hour’s walk brought him to the park entrance and the small market across the street, where he purchased two coffees and cinnamon scones. He made his way to Jade’s cabin and knocked, then called out, “Morning. I brought breakfast.”

Jade opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a blue tank top. Her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms, glowering.

“Coffee?” He held out the tray that supported large paper cups. “Peace offering.”

After a pause, she blinked and took one. “Thank you.”

“There’re scones, too.” He set the paper bag on the porch table.

“You can eat?” She removed the plastic lid of her coffee, one delicate eyebrow arched.

He grinned. “You’re the ghost expert.”

“No one in my family has encountered a spirit like you in my lifetime.”

He settled in one of the weathered plastic chairs and sipped the hot, over-sweetened liquid. When you only bothered to eat once every few decades, why go light on the sugar? “I can eat, but I don’t have to. All I have to do is revert to my incorporeal state when hunger sets in.”

She took the chair opposite him and broke a scone into pieces. His attention followed as she brought a morsel to her lips.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” He forced his attention away from her mouth. Small calluses gave texture to the tips of her fingers on her left hand.

“You listened to me?” The words came out clipped.

He scratched his chin. “Ah, yeah. Sorry. I checked to make you sure you’d made it back okay, and then I couldn’t resist listening. You had me entranced.”

“You like that kind of music?”

“I lived in the late eighteen hundreds, and some habits never change. All this modern shit the park staff and visitors listen to is noise to me.”

“Mmm.” She studied her scone for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “So. You lied to me several times yesterday. Time to clear the air. The car trouble lie is obvious. You don’t have one.”

He nodded.

“I asked what happened the day the ghost died, other than the traumatic death itself. You said you didn’t know.” Challenge filled her gaze.

Long-buried pain clawed at him. He forced the memories down. “What happened doesn’t matter.”

“You tried to trick me into exorcising you.” Her voice hardened. “You owe me some answers.”

“I didn’t call you because of my death. I called you because of my afterlife.” He set the coffee aside. “I want an end to this, Jade. I’ve been here since 1890. ‘Lonely’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’ve made the best of this existence for decades, but it’s gone on too long. I’m asking you to help me.”

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “It’ll destroy you.”

“I’m aware.” He held her gaze. “Will you please think about it? I don’t need an answer right now. I admit, there is something else I feel compelled to do.”

“Such as?”

“Are you still willing to have dinner with me?”

“I should be too furious with you for deceiving me.”

“But you’re not?” He leaned forward.

“Oh, I am.” She folded her arms. “But considering you spent most of yesterday bound to your grave, I think we’re even.”

“Excellent.” He ran his fingertips over the back of her hand. “Because I meant it when I said I’d love to have dinner with you. Actually, I’m going to make you dinner.”

…

Jade registered with the park to stay another night, relieved no one else had claimed the cabin for the weekend. Intent on enjoying the stolen day, forgetting the stress of the last week and the hell to come when she had to deal with Aaron and Jeremy once again, she switched off her cell phone and met Dutch for a hike.

A steep trail led them up the mountain in the center of the park. At the top, a swinging bridge connected twin peaks, offering a view of forested foothills for miles in all directions. The bridge swayed and trembled underfoot, making Jade’s palms sweat. She clutched Dutch’s arm as they made their way to the halfway point.

“They say this is an extinct volcano.” Dutch pointed straight down. “The caldera. Well, what’s left of it after tens of thousands of years of erosion.” He paused, staring at her. “Do spirits erode on earth? Is that why so many become violent?”

Jade eyed the slopes with renewed respect, but a strong crosswind rocked the bridge, riveting her attention to the lack of ground beneath her feet. She tried to focus on the conversation instead. “I think that’s a good metaphor, yes. You’re different, though.”

“But why?”

“This place. It has to be this incredible place. It doesn’t just make you powerful, it keeps you alive.”

“Alive? No, Jade, I’m most definitely not alive.”

A chatty tourist couple with two daughters—one a scowling preteen, one a wide-eyed younger girl—crossed the bridge from the far side, making their way back toward the trail. The bridge shuddered and groaned under their progress as they passed.

“You’re hurting my arm.” Amusement filled Dutch’s tone. “Would you like to turn back?”

“Not yet.” She turned her face into his shoulder. The earthy scent of the woods clung to his shirt. Unlike the bridge, Dutch held her steady, an unyielding source of support.

He wrapped his free arm around her back and rested his chin on her head. The breeze—chilly at that altitude despite the warm day—put his warmth in stark relief. She took in the view in her peripheral vision. An eagle swooped down the lush valley, aimed at a distant lake. With Dutch at her side, she calmed enough to enjoy the beauty around them.

“I’m terrified of heights.”

“No kidding?”

She smacked his arm, no enthusiasm behind the strike. His chest shook with silent laughter and he tightened his hold. “Sorry. You face malevolent spirits for a living, yet here you are in my arms, afraid of a perfectly good bridge. Pardon me while I gloat.”

“Humph.” She hid her grin against his shoulder. “This view is incredible. Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to stand out here by myself.”

“Anytime,” he said quietly.

As they walked back toward the trail, leaning against each other, she studied his face. “Heights don’t bother you?”

“Naw. I was a logger. Not a job compatible with that sort of phobia. And I’m dead.”

“You fell.” Her curiosity forced the words from her mouth.

His lips thinned. “Yes. It was over in a few seconds and I didn’t feel a thing. There are far worse ways to go.”

“Why are you here, Dutch? What else happened?”

“Honestly?” Solid ground underfoot, he stopped walking and turned to face her. “You’re right, dying wasn’t the worst thing that happened to me that day. However, I don’t think I’m still here because of that. The gorge…there is something about it. Another logger died on the job and became a ghost with a heartbeat, like me. For one day, that is. When they removed his body for burial in his hometown, he lost that ability. He eventually vanished altogether.”

“Interesting. There must be much more to this place than natural energies. Much more. Perhaps moving your grave is a solution, as opposed to being exorcised.” Her own words dried out her mouth. Even if he had a way to move on without an exorcism, she wished he wouldn’t move on at all. And how selfish was that?

“It might have been possible, decades ago. But I didn’t even have a coffin. I’m inseparable from the soil and the trees these days.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Back then, I wanted this false life. It was a second chance. Incredible freedom. But, loneliness has a way of accumulating and compounding over the years.”

“Annabel!”

Jade turned toward the shout. The father from the tourist family who’d passed them on the bridge hurried along the path, shadowed by thick balsams.

The man stopped, panting, when he reached them. “Have you seen a little girl? She’s six.”

“No, sorry—”

The father took off again, headed for the visitor’s shelter near the bridge.

“Wait here. This’ll only take a moment.” Dutch stepped into the shadows of the trees and vanished, the strong energy of his incorporeal form washing over her skin like electric current. The scent of burnt sugar filled the air. His shirt landed in a heap on a rock.

His presence vanished like a gust of wind. Shivering, Jade leaned against a tree and rubbed her tense shoulders. The way a spirit could travel, he’d be able to locate the girl in moments. Hopefully, alive and unhurt.

The father came out of the shelter, shoulders slumped, face flushed. His voice hitched as he yelled, “Annabel!”

Dutch’s presence returned. Jade’s clairvoyant senses, guiding her like infallible intuition, drew her gaze to the panicked father and she knew Dutch stood at the man’s side.

Rubbing his eyes, he started back down the path, then stumbled as if he’d been pushed. He paused, staring into the woods to his left. He took a step and stumbled again. The spot didn’t stand out from what Jade could see, but the father ran into the trees. “Annabel?”

Dutch materialized at Jade’s side and she handed him his shirt. “The girl’s got a sprained ankle, but she’s fine,” he said.

Jade kissed his cheek.

They waited. After several minutes, the father emerged with the little girl in his arms.

“Sometimes, a parent just knows where to look.” Dutch winked.

They headed down the mountain. Dutch fell into silence, a distance in his eyes. When the path leveled off, he said, “I told myself I wouldn’t, because some things are best left in the past, but I want to tell you…”

“Hmm?”

He slid an arm around her waist. “After I died, the logging company sent a telegraph to my family. They traveled all night and arrived the next day. It was a relief to see them, but I didn’t show myself to anyone. I was expecting a beam of light or something to appear any second.” His tone hardened. “They collected the wages the company owed me, several months’ worth. Mother spared the body a glance and the sign of the cross, then they left me on the ground and took off.”

Jade rubbed the center of her chest. What sort of parents could do that to their son? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The loggers buried me. They even pitched in and bought me that stone. The uncouth sons of bitches took better care of me than my own family. I’m very grateful to them. And it’s nice to finally tell someone what they did for me.” He paused. “I’d rather focus on the present. I’m making dinner for a girl tonight, so we better hurry back.”

Jade hooked her arm through his and couldn’t help but wonder if enjoying Dutch’s company so much was wise. He wanted to be exorcised, something her conscience screamed against, but what would she tell her brothers if she refused? She’d lose the job she’d been immersed in since birth. Continuing being an exorcist on her own, developing an incantation to move spirits harmlessly to the next world, wouldn’t be possible, not without her family’s extensive library.

Spending time with Dutch would only make it worse—for both of them.

Chapter Five

“This is a very bad idea,” Jade muttered, meeting her own stare in the mirror. The knots in her stomach fluttered in anticipation. “Damn it.”

She took her usual braid down and brushed her hair until it fell in waves to her elbows. A job in the woods had not merited packing sexy clothes, so she selected a clean pair of jeans and a silken blouse—business clothes. The spicy scent of cooking drifted in through the open window from the grill behind the cabin.

“Jade?” Dutch called from the porch.

She checked the mirror one last time and hurried to the door. Dutch waited there, dressed in a dark green button-down shirt that brought out his eyes.

“Evening.” He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. “You look lovely tonight.”

The contact stirred her internal butterflies into a flying frenzy. “Thanks.”

“I hope you like fish.”

She inhaled. “Whatever that scent is, I like it.”

He squeezed her hand and led her around to the back of the cabin, a private yard surrounded by thick bushes. A small fire burned in a stone pit and a white cloth covered a picnic table. Two plates offered roasted fish, wilted greens, and fresh bread.

He pulled a bottle of wine from an ice bucket. “I caught the trout myself and picked the herbs in the woods. The rest I got from the market across the street. Sorry about the plastic dishes. It’s all they had.”

“Not at all.” She joined him at the table. “This looks wonderful.”

“I’m glad.” He poured the wine.

She touched a cluster of wildflowers set in a plastic cup in the middle of the table.

He cleared his throat. “At the risk of sounding corny, the flowers you left by my stone meant a lot to me. No one has ever done that before. Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell. Jade slowly ate the delicious food and cleaned the plate. As they finished the bottle of wine, they chatted about little things: The fish recipe that had been a favorite in the logging camps where Dutch had worked. How Jade had initially picked up the viola as a child just to annoy her brothers but had come to love it more than any other hobby.

The bottle dried up and she brought her the instrument outside.

“Any requests?” She stood in front of the fire.

He sat on the ground, dark-blue twilight framing him, and rested an arm on a bent knee. “Your favorite piece.”

She lifted the viola to her shoulder and began the slow, uplifting solo that had attracted her to the instrument when she’d been little. Her mother had played the song on an antique record player. Playing with her eyes closed to not get distracted by Dutch’s unwavering gaze, she gave herself over to the music. The piece took five minutes to complete, and as she prolonged the last note, his warm fingers touched her cheek.

She opened her eyes. Dutch pressed his lips to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw line, and paused, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers. She set the instrument and bow on the table.

A hand on her nape, he pulled her against his mouth, his other arm firm around the small of her back. His unyielding grip spurred her heart rate and filled her body with simmering heat.

Jade dug her fingers into his thick hair and nipped at his lower lip. His lips curved against her skin, and he lowered her into the grass on her back. Bold. But she trusted that he’d stop if she asked him to, and such confident passion in a man sang to her desires.

Stretched out at her side, he stroked her throat and claimed her lips again. As she returned and deepened the kiss, she ran her fingers from his rough hand up his arm to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt at odds with the hard angles and curves underneath.

He broke the kiss but stayed close. “Jade. It’s been over a century since I’ve been close to anyone. You can’t imagine what it was like to hold you on the bridge today. What it’s like to hold you now.”

She lifted his wrist from her shoulder and ran her fingertips slowly down the inside of his fingers, across his palm, and up the hairless underside of his arm. Following the path with her lips, she made her way to his neck. She licked the soft skin below his ear and blew across the spot.

He shivered and lifted her into a sitting position. He kissed her, his lips and tongue relentless, his sugary, wine-tinged taste addictive. Tilting her head back with his hands, he dropped his mouth to her neck, licking and pressing her skin between his teeth, certain to leave marks.

“More,” she groaned. She trusted her instincts and her body. She’d wanted this before the first drop of wine had passed her lips. Hell, she’d been drawn to him the first time they’d spoken.

In an effortless motion, he laid her back down in the grass and held her gaze, his fingers on the top buttons of her blouse. She nodded, and he parted her shirt, baring her skin and her white lace bra. The friction of his rough palms against her belly made her arch into his touch. He bent forward and pressed his mouth to her left breast, licking her nipple through the thin lace. She hissed in a breath through her teeth and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

He returned his ministrations to her lips, though he pressed more of his weight onto her body. Warm pressure.

“So lovely,” he said against her mouth as she drew in air.

She smoothed her hands under his shirt, up the planes on his stomach, and pressed his nipples between her fingertips. The groan from his throat bordered on a growl.

Shoving the cotton out of the way, she licked first the right nipple, then the left, dragging her fingernails along his back.

He stiffened in her arms. Gasping, he jerked away from her and collapsed on his back.

“Dutch!” She sat up and knelt at his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Not again…” He stared at her, his brow furrowed. He sucked in a sharp breath, faded and vanished. Jade lost her balance and fell forward on her hands. His clothing lay abandoned beneath her palms.

“Dutch, are you still here? Answer me!”

The silence lengthened, and she scrambled to her feet. A faint voice reached her ears, the rhythmic sound rising above the buzz of the evening crickets.

Aaron. Oh, shit, what had her brother done?

Every muscle in her body tensed and adrenaline seared her veins like an acid wash. She took off full tilt toward the river.

…

Running in the fading light of evening, Jade stepped on a loose rock in the path and went down hard, face first into the gravel. Pain shot up her leg. Her cheek burned. Cursing, she shoved herself to her feet. Her brother’s voice, louder now, guided her down the narrow side path. She reached the edge of the river.

Her brother, silhouetted by a lantern, knelt on a large granite outcrop, facing the rapids. He held a book close to the light and read out loud in Latin.

“Stop!” She reached him and snatched the book from his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

He stared up at her with a tight grin, his severe features made more so by his cropped hair and the shadows cast by the lantern. “You’ve never seen an exorcism before?” He lifted his fingers to her injured cheek, giving her a rare glimpse of the caring brother beneath the cold exterior. The brother whose leg still bore scars from protecting her from a dog when they’d taken a shortcut through the wrong yard as kids.

“What happened?”

“I tripped, running down here in the dark.” She clutched the book to her chest. A far more gifted clairvoyant than Jeremy or herself, Aaron didn’t need the benefit of the ghost’s presence or the grave. But he did need the book.

“Why is your bra showing?”

Her heart leapt up and clung to her throat. She furiously buttoned her blouse. “I was getting dressed after a shower.”

He folded his arms. “Jeremy told me the exorcism hadn’t been completed and figured I needed to head out here.” He held out his hand. “Give me that.”

She tossed the book into the rapids, using all her strength to get good distance.

His eyes widened. “That was one of our great grandfather’s handwritten copies.”

“This spirit is different, Aaron. He can assume corporeal form and is in no way hostile. He set up the motel fire to get an exorcism, but we’ve…” Heat seared her cheeks. “We’ve gotten acquainted.”

“Corporeal form? Interesting.” He pursed his lips. Silent seconds ticked by. “Go back to wherever you’re staying, little sister. I’m going to call Jeremy, and we’re going to finish this in the morning.”

He strode off up the path in the moonlight, leaving his lantern with her. She bent forward, hands on her knees, and caught her breath. Thank God he’d left without much of a fuss, but he clearly intended to proceed with the exorcism as soon as he got another copy of the text. Her pulse hammered in her ears and her knees trembled. A tear dripped off the end of her chin.

“Dutch?” she whispered.