Read The Ghost Online

Authors: Danielle Steel

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Sagas, #Romance, #Contemporary

The Ghost (35 page)

BOOK: The Ghost
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Hello? She answered the phone sounding worried. No one ever called her at that hour. In fact, with rare exceptions for Monique, no one called her.

I've just seen a ghost, and I'm terrified. It was ten feet tall and had horns and red eyes, and I think it was wearing my sheets. Do you want to come see it? He sounded like a naughty child, and she couldn't stop laughing as she listened.

You're awful. I meant that. People do see ghosts. I hear about it all the time at the historical society, and some of them can be identified. I've done research on it myself. She was trying to be serious with him, but she was still laughing at what he'd said when he called her.

Good. Then come identify this one. I'm locked in the bathroom.

You're hopeless, she said, smiling at her end.

You're right. That's the problem. I'm going to write to Ann Landers in fact and sign the letter Hopeless.' I've met this woman and I want to be her friend ' and I think maybe we're attracted to each other, but if I say anything about it to her, she'll hate me. There was a long silence as she listened to what he was saying, and he wondered if he had blown it with her forever. He hoped not.

She won't hate you, she finally said in a soft voice, she just can't do anything about it ' she's too scared by what's already happened to her. She sounded very tender and he wished he could put his arms around her, but she probably wouldn't have let him, and he knew that.

I'm not sure I believe that. I know you do, he said gently, and I'm all banged up too. I'm not a pretty sight these days, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I haven't been out here in the world in ten years ' more than that ' eleven ' It had been ten months since Carole left him. And I've been saying all the same things you are ' but one minute I'm crying over Carole, and the next minute I'm ' I'm talking to you, and feeling something I haven't felt in a long, long time ' it's confusing. Maybe all we'll ever be is friends. Maybe that's all I have a right to. I just ' I wanted you to know ' He felt like a kid again, and he was blushing, but so was she, at her end. I just want you to know how much I like you, he said awkwardly. It was more than that. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.

I like you too, she said honestly, and I don't want to hurt you.

You won't. It's already been done by experts. I'm sure you'd be an amateur in comparison.

She smiled as she answered. So would you, Charlie. I really appreciate how nice you've been to us. You're a good person. And Pierre wasn't. Fantasy or no, she knew that. He had used her shamefully, and taken terrible advantage of all her decency and kindness and feelings for him. And no one else was ever going to do the same thing to her, not if she could help it. Can't we just be friends? she asked sadly, she didn't want to lose him.

Sure we can, he said gently. And then he had another thought. How about letting your friend take you and Monique to dinner on Monday? You already turned me down for tomorrow. You can't say no again, I won't let you. A quick dinner after work Monday night. We can have pizza in Shelburne Falls. There wasn't much she could object to, and he was accepting her terms on their friendship.

Okay, she relented. He drove a hard bargain.

I'll pick you up at six again. Okay?

Okay. She was smiling. They had survived the first skirmish. I'll see you then.

I'll call you if I see another ghost. He was glad he had called her. It had been worth it. And just before they hung up, he stopped her.

Yes? Francesca sounded a little breathless, and he loved it.

Thank you ' he said softly. She knew what he meant, and she was still smiling when they hung up. They were just friends, she told herself. Nothing more. He understood perfectly ' or did he?

And at his end, Charlie sat back in his chair with a smile. He really liked her. She wasn't easy. But she was definitely worth the effort. And he was so pleased with himself, and the fact that she'd agreed to see him again, that he picked up one of Sarah's journals to reward himself. He hadn't read them in days. And he had really missed her. And he wanted to know what had happened to her. But now, when he opened the small book, and saw her familiar handwriting, it felt like a celebration.

Chapter 17

TRUE TO HIS word, Fran+oois de Pellerin came back through Shelburne again in August, and when he did, he came to see Sarah. She was working in her vegetable garden when he arrived, and she didn't see or hear him approach. He came on silent feet, as he always did, and suddenly he stood beside her. She turned with a start, and looked up at him, first with surprise, and then obvious pleasure.

I'm going to have to fasten a bell around your neck if you continue to do that. And then she blushed slightly and wiped her face with her apron as she remembered to thank him for the bear claws.

Have you been well? she asked as he smiled down at her. Her face was brown, and her raven-black hair was in a long braid down her back which made her look almost like an Indian squaw. And he noticed as they walked slowly back to her house, that she had the same regal carriage as Crying Sparrow. Where have you been since we last met? she asked him with interest as they stopped at the well for some water.

With my brothers, he said simply. In Canada, trading with the Huron. He did not tell her he had been to the capital, to meet with Washington again, to discuss the continuing problems with the Miami Indians in Ohio. He was far more interested in her, and what she'd been up to. She seemed to be flourishing in Shelburne. Have you been to the garrison to see Colonel Stockbridge? he asked conversationally, as she poured a cup of cool water and handed it to him.

I've been too busy to go to the garrison, she answered. We've been planting for the past three weeks. They'd been planting tomatoes and squash and pumpkins in large quantities, and they hoped for a good-size crop before winter.

She had heard from Mrs. Stockbridge by then, begging her to leave Shelburne and return to civilization, and she'd had a letter from the Blakes as well, giving her all the news of Boston. But she was far happier here, and Francois could see it. Where are you off to now? she asked as they stepped into her sitting room, it was still somewhat cooler than it was outside, as that part of the house was shaded by elm trees. The men who had built her house for her had planned it well, and it suited her to perfection.

I have a meeting with Colonel Stockbridge. The colonel was still concerned about the Kentucky volunteers who had sacked and burned several Shawnee villages the year before, and the fort that had been built at Fort Washington in violation of several treaties. The colonel was sure that there was going to be retaliation. Blue Jacket had already taken vengeance by crossing the Ohio River into Kentucky, and there had been numerous attacks on settlers there. But the colonel was afraid of more widespread warfare, as was Fran+oois. He had said as much to Washington when he'd seen him. And Sarah listened with interest as Fran+oois explained it.

Is there anything you can do to stop it? she asked calmly.

Very little now. Blue Jacket still feels there has not been adequate retribution. He's a hard man to deal with. I've tried several times, but he doesn't like the Iroquois any better than the white man. He knew from firsthand experience in a meeting he reported to Stockbridge, when he first met Sarah. All we can do is hope he gets tired of it, and feels he's had enough scalps to make up for the men he lost. I can't see how we'll stop him, unless it becomes a war involving several nations, and none of us wants that, he said calmly. He seemed to have a wise overview of things, and a sympathetic sense for both sides, although more often than not, his sympathies lay with the Indians, rather than the white man. The Indians had suffered more, and in Fran+oois's view, were usually more honest.

Is it not dangerous for you to be negotiating with Blue Jacket? she asked, with obvious concern, as he smiled at her. He must see you as white rather than Iroquois.

I'm not sure it matters to him. I'm not Shawnee. That is enough to make him angry. He's a brave warrior filled with fire and anger, he told her, with obvious respect, and a certain amount of fear, which was not unfounded. Blue Jacket was not afraid to bring a whole new Indian war down on his people.

They talked about it for a long time, and when they went outside again, it was cooler, and as she always did, she asked him if he'd like to walk to the waterfall with her. It was a daily ritual she never missed. And they said very little to each other, as they walked the easy mile to where the cascade fell in all its beauty and glory. And when Sarah sat down on her favorite rock and looked at the water tumbling down so jubilantly, Francois looked down at her with pleasure. He wanted to tell her that he had been thinking about her a great deal, about the things she had said to him the last time, and what he had gleaned himself over dinner. He wanted to say that he had worried about her, and was anxious to see her again, but he didn't. He simply stood there, and watched her and said nothing.

They sat that way for an hour, lost in their own thoughts, communing silently, and then she turned and looked at him, and she smiled as their eyes met. It was good to see him. He looked brown and healthy after his time with the Iroquois, and it was difficult to believe he had not been born among them. And as they walked slowly back to her small farm again, she felt his bare arm brush against her.

Will you be staying at the garrison this time? she asked quietly as they reached her house.

I will, he said, looking down at her, I'm meeting some of my men there. And then she asked him to dinner, and he accepted. He knew he could spend the night in the woods, or in her barn, and go down to the garrison before dawn the next morning. He had no set appointment with the colonel.

He caught several rabbits for her, and she cooked them for him and the boys, and she made rabbit stew with vegetables from her garden. It was a delicious meal, and the boys thanked her enthusiastically before they left to do their evening chores, and she and Francois sat quietly in her comfortable kitchen. They spoke softly for a long time, and then they walked out into the moonlight. And within minutes they saw a comet.

The Indians say that is a good sign, he said, looking at her carefully. It's a good omen. You will be blessed here.

I already have been, she said, looking around her. She wanted nothing more than this. This was everything she had ever dreamed of.

This is only the beginning of your life here, he said wisely. You must go on, do many things, bring wisdom to many. He sounded very much like the Iro-quois as he spoke to her and she smiled at him, not sure of his meaning.

I have no wisdom to give anyone, Fran+oois. I lead a small life here. She had come here only for healing, not to teach others. But Francois seemed not to understand that.

You crossed a great ocean to get here. You're a brave woman, Sarah. You must not hide yourself away here, he said firmly. But what did he expect of her? She could not negotiate with Indians, or go to see the president. She had nothing important to say to anyone. She couldn't imagine what he was thinking. And then he told her that he would like to introduce her to the Iroquois one day, which surprised her.

Red Jacket is a great man. I think you would like to meet him. It frightened her a little bit, but she had to admit, it intrigued her too, and she knew that she would be safe there, as long as Fran+oois was with her.

I'd like that, she said thoughtfully.

Their medicine is very wise, he said cryptically, just as you are. He sounded very mystical, and she felt a strange, unspoken bond with him, as they stood in the moonlight, so much so that it made her nervous. It was as though, without a word, without a sound, without ever even touching her, he was drawing her slowly to him. And she knew she should resist, but she found she couldn't. She didn't even know where the pull she felt came from. It was almost like being ever so slowly drawn by mystical forces, as they tightened a rope around her.

And as they spoke, she walked him slowly to the barn, and when they reached it, he stopped and gently took her hand in his own and kissed it. It was entirely a gesture from another life, and something he would have done had they met in France in their other lifetimes. He was the oddest mixture of Iroquois and French, of warrior and man of peace, of mystic and human. She watched him walk silently into the barn, and then turned and walked back to her kitchen.

And in the morning, he was gone again, and when she went back to her kitchen, she found a narrow Indian bracelet made of brightly colored shells. It was pretty and she put it on, and as she looked at it, she realized that it was an odd feeling knowing that he'd been in her kitchen while she was sleeping. He was so silent and so strong, so handsome, with his shining dark hair, and she had grown accustomed to the buckskins and moccasins he wore. They looked completely natural on him. And she found as she went back to work in her cornfield that day that she missed him. She had no idea when he would come again, and she had no reason to wish him there. They were just friends after all. In fact, she reminded herself, she scarcely knew him. But he was so interesting to talk to, and his presence seemed so reassuring. They could walk along side by side for hours, without speaking. And at times, it seemed as though each knew what the other was thinking. He almost seemed to have mystical powers, he was so wise, and she was thinking about some of the more spiritual things he had said to her, as she walked back to the waterfall that afternoon. She hadn't been able to get him out of her mind all day, and her time at the waterfall was no different.

She was dangling her feet in the icy water, thinking about him, when something crossed the sun, and she looked up to see what had cast the shadow. She gave a little start when she saw it was Francois, standing not inches from her, blocking the sunlight.

I suppose you will always surprise me, she said, smiling up at him, shading her eyes with her hand, unable to hide her pleasure to see him. I thought you were at the garrison.

I have met with the colonel, he said, and she sensed that there was more, but for a long moment he said nothing. He seemed to be struggling with something very powerful and very disturbing, and she sensed it.

BOOK: The Ghost
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ads

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