Stay a Little Longer (35 page)

But then more than one silhouette appeared in the frosted glass of his office door, and before Zachary could regain his feet,
it swung open, revealing his unexpected visitors: Carlson’s potbellied sheriff, Walter Kirby; one of his many deputies, a
man he had once been introduced to but whose name he had long since forgotten; a battered and bruised Travis Jefferson, his
eyes never wavering from the floor; and…

No! No, it cannot be! It simply can’t!

Mason, his older brother, his
long-dead
brother, stood in the doorway. He was much as Zachary remembered him, except the hideous scarring that covered one side of
his face. The very sight of it repulsed Zachary. If he had had such an affliction, he wouldn’t be able to show his own face
in public ever again. But what unsettled him the most were Mason’s eyes, still a smoldering blue, staring straight through
him, seeing him for what he was.

“How… how are you… here?” Zachary questioned in confusion.

No one said a word in answer.

“This isn’t possible,” he went on, giving a nervous laugh, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding. “I must be dreaming.
You just cannot be here! You’re dead! Do you hear me? You’re dead!”

“Do what you need to do, Sheriff Kirby,” Mason said simply.

“You heard the man, Clifford.”

At the sheriff’s words, the deputy walked over and grabbed Zachary by the shoulder, his grip as tight as a vise, and began
hauling the overweight banker toward the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Zachary thundered. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“That ain’t what your man here’s been sayin’,” Sheriff Kirby explained.

Travis Jefferson had spilled his guts to the law! In that instant, Zachary realized that all his plans were for naught; his
contract with the Gaitskill Lumber Company would go up like so much smoke, all of his anticipated riches lost in a sea of
scandal; but, more important, he would lose his grip upon the Carlson Bank and Trust, forfeiting the wealth and power he had
spent the last eight years painstakingly acquiring.

“Mason!” he shouted at the door, fighting feebly against the relentless march of the deputy, desperately hoping that his brother,
who he still couldn’t bring himself to believe was somehow miraculously alive, might still have some shred of compassion for
his younger sibling. “Mason, you know me! You have to know that what you were told is nothing but lies! Please, dear God,
you have to believe I wouldn’t be a party to this!”

For a moment, Zachary believed he might have reached Mason, for he halted the deputy before he could reach the door. Stepping
before his brother, Mason smiled wanly.

“I knew you would listen to reason!” Zachary rejoiced, even as he winced at just how disgusting the scars on Mason’s face
truly were. “You always were—”

Before he could manage another word, Mason drove a ferocious punch directly into the middle of his enormous paunch. The blow
knocked all the wind out of his lungs, sent him crashing hard onto his knees, and eventually to his side, wheezing for his
next breath. Pain the likes of which he couldn’t remember crowded his senses, making his eyes water, before a steady darkness
marched in from the edges.

The instant before Zachary slipped into unconsciousness, Mason bent down to where he could see his face. “You are going to
pay for what you’ve done, you no-good worthless shit,” he snarled. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, there will be a reckoning.”

And then he was gone.

Rachel was waiting, Charlotte at her side, when Mason came down the steps that led to his brother’s office. Even as the sheriff
and his deputy hustled the two accomplices past them to an uncomfortable cell in Carlson’s tiny jail, she could see the toll
the night had taken on Mason; fatigue was etched upon his face. His skin was streaked with soot as he favored the gash in
his forearm. Still, she felt intense relief that their ordeal was at an end.

“Is it over?” she asked hopefully.

Mason nodded and gave a weak smile, walking over to tousle Charlotte’s hair. “There’s nothing more that Zachary can do to
any of us. Where he’s headed, he’ll have a lot more concerns than trying to figure out how his brother managed to return from
the dead.”

“Then where do we go from here?”

This question had been rolling around in Rachel’s mind from the moment that Mason had rescued Charlotte from the burning boardinghouse.
With his surprise reappearance among the people of Carlson, there would be no end to the questions that would inevitably surface
about his whereabouts for the last eight years. Witnesses had watched as she had leapt into his arms, and since Alice was
her beloved sister, tongues would undoubtedly be wagging. All that she wanted was some guidance, some idea that Mason knew
what to do.

“We go wherever we want to,” he answered simply. “A good place to start would be to my father’s house. He’ll need to be reassured
that he didn’t imagine my late-night visit. Besides, with my brother’s impending imprisonment, someone will need to look after
the bank.”

“And that will be you?”

“I hope so. I hope that I can regain everyone’s trust.”

“If my daddy says he can do it,” Charlotte piped up, “then that’s what he’s gonna do.”

Mason smiled. “I’m glad someone believes in me.”

“She’s not the only one.” Rachel moved closer to the man who had returned from the dead, rose up on the tips of her toes,
and gently placed a tender kiss upon his cheek. Mason put his arm around her and pulled her tightly against him. His kiss
was all-consuming. It went on and on, stopping only when Charlotte insistently tugged on his arm.

Though the night had been filled with surprise and devastation, Rachel believed that Mason was right, that they could go wherever
they wanted, rebuilding all that had been lost, reacquainting themselves with old friends and family members and making new
ones. They wouldn’t run from the past but embrace it, not stopping for any hardship, but overcoming all obstacles.

Their love for one another would see them through.

Carlson, Minnesota—June 1928

R
ACHEL
crossed the bedroom and stood before the open windows as a gentle breeze pushed the curtains in a soft dance, kissing her
bare arms with a comforting coolness. The late afternoon sun was just about to disappear over the far horizon and the sky
was already dotted with the first twinkling of stars. Crickets and cicadas had begun to call out.

Leaning down into the cradle Mason had built, Rachel adjusted the blanket over their sleeping infant daughter. Christina Tucker,
who had come into their lives only five months earlier, bubbled only slightly at her mother’s touch before settling back into
her peaceful slumber. Born with a full head of jet black hair, she bore a strong resemblance to Rachel, save for the piercing
blue eyes that undoubtedly came from her father.

“Our little angel,” Rachel whispered.

Thinking back on the strange events that had returned Mason to her life, Rachel could only marvel at all that had happened.

In the aftermath of the boardinghouse’s destruction and Zachary Tucker’s being revealed as the person responsible, much in
Carlson had changed as the scandal reverberated through the community. Both Mason’s brother and Travis Jefferson had been
found guilty by a jury of their peers and had been sentenced to many long years behind bars. While their departure had meant
the failure of the negotiated financial deal with the Gaitskill Lumber Company, a new compromise had been found, one that
brought a new spur to the rail line and money to fill Carlson’s coffers.

With Zachary removed from his position at the Carlson Bank and Trust, there had been some initial worry that his departure
would signal the end of the once proud institution. But into that void stepped Mason. After he had returned to his father’s
home, proving to Sherman Tucker that his son’s appearance before him wasn’t a dream, he had resumed his previous duties at
the bank, inspiring confidence and pursuing an honest, scrupulous way of doing business. Though there was the occasional stare
at the scars on his face, most everyone came to see him as the man he was on the inside, paying no heed to how he might look
on the outside. While Sherman had made a brief recovery after Mason’s return, showing a happiness in his eyes that had been
thought long gone, it was unfortunately short-lived; less than a year later, he died peacefully in his sleep.

One of the first things Mason did upon resuming his duties at the bank was to help finance the rebuilding of the boardinghouse.
Besides his own connection to the family, he believed that since Zachary had played an active role in its destruction, the
bank held some responsibility.

With nearly the whole community chipping in, the building Eliza’s father had long ago constructed was rebuilt. With Eliza’s
self-imposed exile in her room ended, she had introduced herself back into the society life of Carlson with a vengeance. The
parlor of the new boardinghouse was opened to gatherings and socials, with coffees and teas, and all the gossip anyone could
ever hope to listen to.

Since his sister had resumed such an active role in the running of the boardinghouse, Otis quietly and happily returned to
his old habits, neglecting his work and drinking. Most nights he could be found sitting on a stool at the local tavern, regaling
anyone who would listen of how he had managed to save everyone from the burning building.

Downstairs, Rachel smiled as she heard Mason, Charlotte, and Jasper burst into the house in a storm of laughter. Though she
worried that they might wake Christina, she knew that the poor baby would have no choice but to get used to the noise.

From the moment Rachel and Mason had declared their feelings for each other, their love had grown each day. At first there
had been some criticism about their relationship, mostly from those who found it unseemly for a woman to become involved with
her dead sister’s husband. Undeterred, Rachel and Mason found sweetness and joy in their romance. By the time they were married
in a simple ceremony at the shore of Lake Carlson, everyone in town had come to realize that their love was real and true.

After they moved into Mason’s father’s home, the place where he had been born and raised, Rachel was soon pregnant. After
what Alice had endured, there was nervousness in the family. But Rachel hadn’t been one of those worried; for her, carrying
her first child was serene, pleasant, and full of moments she would undoubtedly cherish until the end of her days. When the
day came for her to give birth to Christina, Dr. Clark had attended; her mother had been present, but her vow never to deliver
another infant into the world remained steadfast.

Charlotte had benefited the most from her new family; where once she had been an irascible child, often seeking her own devices,
she had embraced Mason as her father. She had become more sociable with the other children at school, improving her marks
in every subject. Though she and Jasper were still apt to dash about the woods, poking their noses where they shouldn’t, Rachel
no longer worried as much about her. Now that she was someone’s big sister, Charlotte had some new responsibilities, ones
she was proud to bear.

Still, Alice had never really left their lives. But instead of taking flowers to her grave on the anniversary of her death,
on Charlotte’s birthday, they would visit when it felt right: on Christmas, Rachel’s birthday, or an autumn afternoon resplendent
with a spectacular sunset. In that way, Alice’s absence no longer hung heavily over their heads; they included her in their
lives. Though Rachel knew Mason still harbored feelings of guilt for what had befallen Alice, she saw that he no longer lived
solely in the past, but embraced the present and the future.

Alice is watching us from heaven above…

“I hope we didn’t make too much noise,” Mason said from the doorway.

Rachel turned to him and smiled. “It sounded like a bunch of wild horses had been let loose.”

“That would have been Jasper.” He chuckled. “He gets so darn excited.”

“As if he were the only one.”

Mason walked over and put his arm around his wife, looking down into the crib as Christina slept on, unaware of how much her
parents adored her. Something wonderful had happened to bring her into the world, something that would sustain them all.

“I love you, Rachel,” Mason said softly, kissing her forehead.

Rachel smiled in answer… she knew no words were needed.