The Widow's Walk (27 page)

“I will do my best,” she answered.

As Garrett watched, Constance quickly ordered four of the male slaves to hold Missy down by her hands and feet. Once Missy was secure, Constance again placed her palms on Missy's abdomen, but this time with a different intent. While pressing down, and amid Missy's plaintive screams, Constance turned her hands clockwise, trying to reposition the fetus. After trying three times, Constance stood up again and nodded.

“I think that I have done it,” she said. She then looked down at Missy's face again. “Very well now, if you want this baby, then your time has come.”

Constance went to the end of the cot, where she got down on her knees between Missy's splayed legs.

“Now!” Constance said. “Push now!”

Entranced, Garrett watched the process play itself out as Constance continually egged Missy on while Missy screamed and pushed. About fifteen minutes later, Missy's son was delivered into Constance's arms. At first he did not cry, causing Constance to quickly clear his airway with one finger. At last the infant boy let out a good long scream, and everyone rejoiced. Constance then tied off and cut the umbilical cord, and handed the new baby to his mother. Crying joyfully, Missy held her child close, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

Letting go a tired sigh, Constance, her hands still covered with blood and fluid, finally stood and wiped her forehead with the back of one arm. She then turned and looked at Adam, a radiant smile upon her face. Adam immediately went to her and took her into his arms.

“How fine ye are to me, wife,” he said.

Exhausted, Constance laid her head upon her husband's shoulder.

“And how fine ye are to me, husband,” she answered.

While Garrett stood watching, he again realized that not a single soul in the subterranean room knew that he was here. And although he could clearly see how much Constance and Adam loved one another, what he had just witnessed caused him to want Constance even more than before. She was an amazing woman and he would do his best to never let her go, neither in this time, nor in the future.

And he now realized something else. Unlike when he had experienced the other flashbacks, this time he understood that this had been a product of the
mora mortis,
and although he had never considered these episodes to be good things, at least some good had come from this one. Constance had saved two lives this night, and seeing her do it was something he would never forget. For some unknown reason, the
mora mortis
had wanted him to witness the birth of this child, and Constance's part in it.

And also because he knew these things now, when he suddenly felt faint again, he realized that it was because he was being returned to his own day and age. Except this time he welcomed the journey.

Chapter 28

The following Saturday Garrett found himself sitting in his college office, nervously waiting. It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon, and he would soon have a visitor.

Yesterday he had received a very surprising e-mail from Dr. Brooke Wentworth, asking that he please be here at this appointed time, because she had some personal correspondence for Garrett. It was something vitally important that she would not trust to the usual methods, and so William, her butler, would be delivering a note in person. She then apologized for not coming herself, adding that although she still liked traveling, being confined to her wheelchair made it difficult. Her cryptic message also warned that although the decision was of course his alone, he might not choose to share this information with Constance. For that reason she had not mentioned it on the day of their visit, although she wished that she could have done so.

Puzzled, Garrett stood from his chair and went to his office window. It had rained rather heavily all day, the uniformly dark clouds unwilling to part for so much as a moment. He had absolutely no idea why Brooke was contacting him. He would better understand after he read her message, he supposed. Even so, he couldn't imagine any sort of news he might not wish to share with Constance. They had grown so close that he kept nothing from her; especially something so important that it need be personally delivered by Brooke's trusted butler.

Just then there came a knock on the office door, causing Garrett to take a quick look at his watch. It was 2:00
P
.
M
. exactly. Given what Garrett guessed was William's strict sense of punctuality, he wouldn't have expected anything less.

When Garrett opened the office door, William stared back at him placidly. Today he wore a navy suit beneath a rain-splotched, London Fog raincoat. Despite not being in butler's livery, his air of professionalism still shined through.

“William,” Garrett said politely, “won't you please come in?”

Before replying, William closed his umbrella then tapped its tip several times against the hallway floor to shake off the rain.

“Thank you, Dr. Richmond,” he answered. “It's a pleasure to see you again.”

“You too,” Garrett answered. He beckoned William toward one of the guest chairs opposite his desk. “Please sit down.”

William removed his raincoat and took a seat.

“It's my understanding that you have something for me from Dr. Wentworth,” Garrett said.

William nodded as he removed an envelope from his suit jacket. Garrett saw that it was made of the same expensive vellum as the departing note Brooke had given him that day at Fairlawn. Rising briefly from his chair, William handed it over.

“My instructions are quite simple,” William said. “First, I deliver that letter to you. Second, I am to make sure that you read it in my presence.”

Wondering, Garrett ran his fingertips over the sharply creased envelope. Brooke had written his name on the front in fountain ink, and the back flap was securely sealed with red stationery wax.

“You don't know what this says?” he asked William.

“That's correct.”

Garrett used his pocketknife to slit open the envelope. When he removed its contents he saw that Brooke's note was handwritten, encompassing one full page and half of another. After settling back in his chair, he began to read.

William watched with interest while Garrett perused Brooke's letter. At first Garrett showed no emotion, but as he continued reading, a look of outright astonishment soon overtook his face. By the time Garrett had finished, his breath was coming in ragged gasps and his face was flushed. It was quite clear to William that the note had affected Garrett deeply, perhaps even irrevocably.

Several moments later Garrett read the note again, as if doing so would somehow lessen the terrible tension he was feeling. With trembling fingers he finally replaced it into the envelope. When at last he looked back at William, his eyes were fearful, incredulous.

“I say, Dr. Richmond,” William asked. “Is something wrong?”

Before answering, Garrett walked on shaking legs to his office window and again looked out. The rain was coming harder now, the uniform clouds even darker than before. As the drops assailed his window they created tiny rivulets, curiously distorting everything that lay beyond.

Just like this revelation from Brooke has suddenly distorted everything I thought I knew,
he thought.
I now understand that my entire life has been . . .

At last Garrett summoned enough composure to turn and look at William.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “You may tell Dr. Wentworth that I have read her letter in its entirety, and I understand. Please also tell her that I thank her.”

William nodded.

“Then my work here is done,” he said.

Upon rising from his chair he donned his raincoat and grabbed up his umbrella. When he reached the door he stopped and again looked at Garrett with an expression of concern.

“Forgive me, sir,” he said, “but are you quite sure you're all right? Dr. Wentworth will want to know.”

Garrett walked back to his desk and sat down. Given everything that he had just learned, it felt good to have a sturdy chair beneath him, rather than his trembling legs.

“Yes, William,” he answered. “Please be sure to have a safe trip home, and give my best regards to Dr. Wentworth.”

“As you wish, sir,” William said. “I bid you good day.”

“And to you,” Garrett answered.

William left Garrett's office and quietly closed the door behind him.

Still stunned by what he had just read, Garrett suddenly took a little gulp of air. For some reason his office seemed quite unfamiliar to him now, as if he had just stepped into it for the first time. Like some awful beast that had suddenly been released from its lair, a terrible sense of panic gripped his heart. With the coming of Brooke's letter, his plight had suddenly been complicated to such a degree that he could barely make any sense of it.

Even so, he also realized that Brooke had been right to send him this letter in confidence. Would he disclose its contents to Constance? No, he decided. If they succeeded, he could always tell her later. Conversely, if neither of them survived, then what possible difference could it make? He felt deceitful, but it had to be this way.

He now also understood how the information in Brooke's letter fit into all of this. Like the last piece of some gigantic puzzle, it seemed to finally pull all the other pieces into place, but the picture that emerged was far more complex than he could have ever have imagined. Even so, everything Brooke had so far told him had come true, thereby leading him to trust the veracity of this latest revelation as well. As tears began forming in his eyes, he shook his head with frustration.

Could it be possible?
he wondered.
I've never believed in such things. But if it is true, then this changes everything. Worse yet, despite its supreme importance I must keep it a secret from the only woman I have ever loved.

Suddenly feeling the need to move, Garrett returned to the office window and stared out blankly, seeing both everything and nothing. And then, despite how unsettling Brooke's letter had been, one part of it gave him an idea . . .

Chapter 29

Two days later, Constance again stood before the old window in the barn. This was the same window from which she had gazed so many times over the past seventeen decades, wondering if she might ever be released from her terrible purgatory. Yet now that a chance for freedom had come, she hesitated.

She had returned to her corner spot on the barn's second floor to think about what to do. Given that she was now living in the house, it had been some time since she had visited here, and she had missed this little place. Perhaps that was because she had spent some of her most difficult times here, amid the rather sad collection of personal items that had always comforted her. But the only things remaining were the mattress and the full-length mirror, neither of which she wanted.

When she considered looking into the mirror, she hesitated. She had not gazed upon herself for some time now, for fear of what she would see. She knew she was dying, and she felt a little weaker every day. She also knew that she did not have much time left in which to make a decision, and that knowledge haunted her.

At last she gathered up the courage to step before the mirror. Her clothes hung straight down upon her form loosely. Her hair looked brittle and dry, and her skin showed additional lines and wrinkles that had been absent only days before. If one looked hard enough, the beauty that had once been hers could still be seen, but soon even that would be gone. And despite it all, Garrett still professed his undying love for her. Nearly two weeks had passed since their last flashback. At the time she had not known that Garrett shared in the experience, and when he told her she had been surprised.

Turning away from the mirror, Constance again gazed down at the old mattress. How many times had she cried herself to sleep there? she wondered. How many times had she come to lie there, seeking quiet? And how many times had she gone to her knees there, praying to God to set her free? An answer had come at last in the form of a man named Garrett Richmond. But now that he was here, how could she ask him to risk his life for hers?

That question had haunted her since the moment they left Brooke Wentworth's mansion. Neither she nor Garrett had any lingering doubts about the things Brooke told them. That is, the only path to freedom was for the two of them to hurl their bodies from the roof of Seaside, not knowing whether one or both of them might perish, or what might happen to them, even should they live. Time after time her mind returned to that terrible, wonderful, frightening, and reassuring idea. This course of action might actually save her, and also keep Garrett from entering the same sort of purgatory that she had suffered for so long. But should they do it? she wondered.
Could
they do it?

She had no doubt that Garrett would go through with it if she agreed. Yet still she hesitated, because of her highly conflicted feelings regarding him. And so it was that she had decided to return to this familiar spot today, and hopefully make some sense of everything.

She had always done her best thinking here. But before she could do so again, she first needed to understand something that had bewildered her for some time now. As best she could, she needed to ascertain her true feelings for Garrett. For only then would she be able to give him a final answer.

Truth be told, she had been conflicted about Garrett since the moment they met. In many ways he was perfect. He not only understood and appreciated the times from which she came, but he was also intensely dedicated to restoring Seaside. Had the flashbacks not begun, she remained firmly convinced that by now she would be deeply in love with him.

But each of her flashbacks had sent her back in time to Adam, cruelly reminding her of how much she loved him, then only to return her to the present. And each time she returned, there stood Garrett—ready, willing, and able to love her with all his heart, and even to risk his life to help free her. Every time this happened, her confusion grew, and sometimes she felt like she was going mad over it. Was it possible for a woman to love two men at the same time? she again wondered. And if so, did that somehow make her evil?