Thirty-Three

I called ahead and made an appointment for Angus at a veterinarian clinic convenient to my house in Charleston. I stayed with him for the exam and shots and then left during the grooming to run errands. When we showed up on my aunt Lynrose’s veranda a few hours later, we were both freshly bathed and looking our best.

My aunt lived in a narrow two-story house built deep into the lot, as was the custom in the historic district. She’d bought the house years ago before the real estate market exploded and could undoubtedly net a small fortune if she chose to sell it. She never would, even though she was forever complaining about the taxes. I loved the house and the shady street she lived on. It was very quaint and charming. Very old South.

Her eyes widened when she opened the door and saw me through the screen. As always, she was dressed elegantly in off-white linen slacks and a wheat-colored tunic embroidered with flowers. I caught a whiff of her perfume through the door, and it took me right back to all those summer twilights when I had sat at that open window listening to her and Mama.

A hand fluttered to her heart. “Goodness gracious, girl. I wasn’t expecting to find you on my doorstep. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? I’d have made lunch. Or ordered out,” she said with a wink. Her gaze dropped to Angus, and her eyes widened even more. “What in the world is that?

“My dog. His name is Angus.”

Your dog?” She gave a delicate shudder as she came out on the porch. “Good Lord, what happened to the creature?”

“He was in a dog-fighting kennel. Then they turned him loose in the woods to starve.”

“Oh, dear.” She gave him a tentative pat. “I suppose you’d better take him around to the back. Your mama’s in the garden. Take care you don’t frighten her half to death with that…with Angus. I’ll go pour us some tea.”

She disappeared back into the house, and I motioned for Angus to follow me down the porch steps and along a narrow path that led through thick beds of fountain grass already sprouting cotton-candy plumes. Mama might keep a perfect house and set an elegant table, but my aunt had been born with a green thumb. The back garden was spectacular this time of year with the last of the summer roses mingling intoxicatingly with the tea olives, all encased in boxwood hedges that wound along stepping-stones and low brick walls shimmering in the afternoon light.

My mother reclined in a green-stripe lawn chair with an open book on her lap. She sat very still, head turned into the cushion, and I thought she might be asleep. I watched her for a moment, a pain in my heart at the sharpness of her cheekbones and the gray tinge to her complexion. Like my aunt, she’d always been very thin, but now she looked gaunt, and I could see new lines in her face and a tremor in her hand as she roused to turn a page. Months of chemo had taken a toll, but she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. As sick as she was, her wig was perfectly coiffed, and I could see a pale pink sheen on her lips. She wore a floral skirt and a pretty blue cardigan even though the day was hot and humid.

I said, “Mama,” very softly and she looked up with a start.

Then she smiled in a way I’d seldom been accorded, and it made me very happy that I’d come.

“Amelia! How long have you been standing there? I didn’t even hear the gate.”

“I came in just now.” I went over and knelt beside her chair. She lifted her hand to brush the hair back from my face. It might have been my imagination—or wishful thinking—but I thought her cool fingers lingered for a moment. Then she spotted Angus, and like Lynrose, a shudder went through her.

“Amelia Rose Gray, what on earth?”

“His name is Angus. I found him in the mountains and I’m keeping him.”

She lifted a brow. “Well, of course, dear, if that’s what you want. You have your own home, your own rules.” She paused. “Poor thing looks like he’s been through the wringer.”

“You could say that.”

“He has my sympathies.”

Angus, bless him, was on his best behavior. He didn’t growl or bark or try to encroach. He hung back, sensing Mama’s reticence. Even when she put out a reluctant hand, he didn’t come forward to nuzzle. Instead, he retreated to a spot beneath the angel oak and watched us warily.

“Lyn said you’d been out of town. You had a restoration somewhere?” Mama asked as I settled down in a nearby lawn chair.

“Yes, ma’am. She didn’t tell you where I was?”

A frown flitted across her brow. “She may have. I don’t remember if she did.”

I was just about to tell her myself when Lynrose came out the back door with the iced tea. “You should probably get that dog some water, Amelia. It’s a hot day even with the breeze. I can feel a storm brewing. You feel that air? Thick as molasses… .”

I left her going on about the weather as I filled a bowl from the water hose and took it to Angus. By the time I rejoined my mother and aunt, they’d moved on to a new topic.

My aunt handed me a glass of tea. “I was just telling Etta about an acquaintance of yours I ran into the other day. I was standing in line at the grocery store when I heard someone behind me mention that she grew up in Trinity. Well, naturally, I had to strike up a conversation. Turns out she was a grade or so behind you in school, but she said the two of you had crossed paths just a few months ago.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ree Hutchins. Do you remember her?”

I took a sip of tea. “Ree? Yes, I remember her. She came to see me about Oak Grove Cemetery.”

My aunt looked stricken. “Oh, Lord. She wasn’t involved in any of that terrible business, was she?”

“No. She was interested in the history of the cemetery.”

“Oh. Well…she was with a very good-looking young man. Hayden something-or-other. She said he was a lawyer.”

“He’s also a ghost hunter,” I said.

A brow arched. “You don’t say. He seemed so normal.”

“I’m sure he did,” I murmured.

“Anyway, Ree told me about some of the awful things that went on at that mental hospital where she worked. Abuse, illegal testing, patients admitted under false names by wealthy families who just wanted to forget about them. It was all over the news last spring. I’m sure you saw it. I don’t remember all the particulars but someone was murdered by a doctor—Farrante, I think his name was. He was quite famous, and apparently his grandfather before him had conducted all sorts of gruesome experiments at that place.” She shook her head. “Blood will tell, as they say.”

As my aunt prattled on, I kept glancing at my mother. Her head had fallen back against the cushion, and her eyes were closed.

“Mama, are you okay?”

She smiled faintly. “I’m a little tired. Would you think badly of me if I went in to rest for a little while?”

I set my glass down. “Of course not. Can I help you?”

“No, dear, I’m fine. It’s just…I don’t have much energy these days.”

“It’s that blasted chemo,” my aunt grumbled as she helped Mama to her feet. “Well, never you mind. We’ll get you all settled in for a nice nap.”

“I’m perfectly capable of turning down the covers myself, Lyn. Stay out here and visit with Amelia. I feel terrible deserting her when she only just arrived.”

“Don’t worry about that. We can visit later,” I said.

“Will you stay and eat with us? We’ll go out somewhere. I wouldn’t subject that poor dog to Lynrose’s cooking.”

I smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Now, you hush up,” my aunt scolded good-naturedly. “I haven’t heard you complaining lately about my cooking.”

“Because I have no appetite,” Mama countered.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?” I asked.

“No, you two have a nice visit. I’ll join you later.”

After she disappeared inside, I turned to my aunt. “Oh, Aunt Lyn, she looks so frail. Even more so since I last saw her, and that was only a week or so ago.”

“She’s had a bad few days, but the doctor is still optimistic with her progress. Setbacks are to be expected.”

“I guess. But she just seems so…I don’t know. Old.

My aunt’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare say that to her!”

“Of course, I won’t! And, anyway, she’s still beautiful.”

My aunt’s eyes grew misty. “The prettiest girl at the dance. Always was.”

I reached over and patted her arm. “You’ve taken such good care of her. She’s so lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have her, too. If anything happens, I don’t know what I’ll do without her—”

“Don’t say it.”

“I know. I know. She’s going to pull through this.” My aunt lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

“Aunt Lyn, has Papa been here this morning? I drove by the house on my way in and the front door was locked.”

“He may have gone into town for something. You probably just missed him.”

“Does he ever come by to see Mama?”

“You know Caleb. He lives in his own little world. Just like you. Two peas in a pod, Etta used to say.” I saw a shadow in her eyes before she glanced away, and for a moment, the air quivered with something unspoken. I didn’t know why, but I felt a momentary panic. I took a sip of tea to calm myself.

“Does Mama know where I’ve been working?”

My aunt traced a bead of condensation down her glass. “Didn’t you tell her?”

“No, I called here before I left, remember? I told you that a job had come through and I would be working out of town for a few weeks. Mama was resting and you said you’d let her know. But you didn’t say anything to her, did you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a lot on my mind these days. We all do.”

“Every time I called this past week, she was always resting or napping. You never let me talk to her.”

“Never let you? What a thing to say. As if I would deliberately try to keep you from talking to your mama.”

“Maybe you didn’t want her to know that I was working in Asher Falls.”

“Why on earth would I be concerned about that?” But her fingers had tangled in the string of pearls at her throat.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

She said, almost angrily, “You make it sound so manipulative and sinister. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t want her upset, is all. I knew where you were, and if anything happened, God forbid, we could always reach you on your cell phone.”

“But why would it upset her to know that I was in Asher Falls? What happened up there, Aunt Lyn?”

She was on the verge of another denial. I could see it in her eyes. Then she seemed to deflate, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Amelia, why can’t you just leave it be?”

“Leave what be?”

“I knew nothing good would come of you going up there to that place. If I could have found a way to stop you, I would have.”

“Aunt Lyn—”

“It was all such a long time ago. Best forgotten, I say.”

I reached over and took her hand. “Don’t I deserve to know the truth?”

She took my hand in both of hers and closed her eyes on a sigh. “Of course, you do. But I never wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

She dropped my hand and smoothed back her hair, as if trying to soothe her emotions. “It’s not my place. And I don’t really know all the details, anyway. Your papa’s always been so secretive, but that’s his way. Keeps everything bottled up inside. If only he and Etta had been able to talk it through. But…” She let out another breath. “That’s all water under the bridge now.”

I watched her anxiously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know you don’t.” She was silent for a moment. “Has either of them ever told you how they met? They don’t talk about it much.”

“I know they met here in Charleston.”

She nodded absently. “Your father was one of the caretakers at St. Michael’s, and Etta spent a lot of time in the gardens there, especially in the days leading up to her wedding.”

“But she and Papa weren’t married at St. Michael’s.”

“I don’t mean her marriage to your papa. Etta was engaged to her high school sweetheart before she met Caleb.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “They were such a handsome couple. A perfect match. Everyone said so, and Etta, bless her, bought into the notion that she was destined to lead a fairy-tale life. I guess that’s why she was so devastated when he left her. Not at the altar, mind you, but close. He broke it off the day before the wedding, and Etta was inconsolable. You can imagine the humiliation. And there was Caleb, in love with her from afar. He was a comfort to her and a balm to her shattered pride. They eloped a few weeks later.”

I sat in stunned silence. I’d never before heard the details of my parents’ courtship. The hasty marriage didn’t sound like either of them to me. They were both so cautious and reserved. So…restrained.

“What does any of this have to do with Asher Falls?” I finally asked.

“I’m coming to that.” My aunt seemed to muster her thoughts as she idly picked at a loose embroidery thread on her tunic. “Your mama and papa…they lived up there for a while.”

I almost gasped. “In Asher Falls?”

“It was a long, long time ago. Caleb hired on with a stonecutter that summer. He loved the work, but Etta hated living in the mountains. She hated that place. Said it was oppressive. It did things to her, played with her mind. She tried to tough it out, but she missed her family. Missed Chaa’stun. So she came home. Eventually, Caleb quit his job and followed her. They reconciled, but things were never quite right. I’ve heard people say that the hardest thing in the world is to live with someone you don’t love. But I’ve always thought it would be far more difficult to live with someone who doesn’t love you.”

“You don’t think Mama ever loved Papa?”

“In her own way, I guess she did. But he was never going to be the love of her life and he knew it. That’s hard on a man. Hard on his pride. Understandable, I guess, that he would turn to someone else.”

“Papa had an affair?” I could hardly imagine such a thing.

“That was Etta’s suspicion. There was a woman in Asher Falls… I never knew her name. She had no family, no husband or children. She worked as a midwife, I think. I guess she and Caleb were both lonely. Something happened between them. Etta knew, but she put it behind her and she and Caleb never spoke of it. She had other worries by then. Other heartbreaks. So many devastating miscarriages. Years passed and they moved to Trinity. Etta eventually gave up on the notion of having a family. Maybe it was for the best, she said. They were getting too old, anyway. Too set in their ways. And then one night seventeen years later, Caleb was called away. When he returned home, it was in the dead of night. With you.”

My heart was pounding. “Where did he get me?”

She shuddered. “From that awful place.”

“Asher Falls?”

“You were such a tiny thing and so upset. You cried and cried for days.”

“Why?”

“You’d been through some trauma. I don’t know any of the details of your birth. I’m not even sure Etta knows everything. But whatever happened the night your papa brought you home…whatever he found in that town…changed him.”

By this time, my aunt had worked herself into quite a state. She sat wringing her hands, which was not at all like her. Mama was the high-strung one. Lynrose had always been her rock.

It was strange, but the more agitated she became, the calmer I grew. I felt almost detached, as if we were talking about a stranger or someone I barely knew. “Who is my mother? My birth mother,” I clarified, because no matter what happened, no matter what I found out, the woman who had raised me would always be Mama.

“I never knew and that’s the God’s honest truth.” She bit her lip. “But Etta and I have always had our suspicions. You see, the woman we think Caleb had the affair with, the midwife… She had a daughter.”

“How do you know?”

“Your mama found a picture among Caleb’s things once, long after he brought you home.”

I shook my head in confusion. “And the girl…”

“Was Caleb’s daughter. Your mother.”

“But if that girl was my mother, then Papa—”

A tear spilled over and ran down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand as she nodded.

That moment was very surreal, and I knew later on, I would never be able to describe it. The snapping together of those puzzle pieces. If everything Lynrose suspected was true, then the man I had always known as my adoptive father—my beloved Papa—was in reality my biological grandfather. That was why we could both see ghosts. I had inherited my ability from him.

My mind flashed back to that first sighting in the graveyard and to the look on Papa’s face when I asked him about the ghost. There had been regret and pity in his eyes because he had known what my life would be like from that moment on. The years of loneliness that faced me.

I looked down at my clasped hands. The knuckles had whitened. “What about my biological father?”

She shook her head.

I thought about the porcelain wing I had found in Papa’s treasures and suddenly I knew it was true. Freya Pattershaw was my mother and Tilly, my grandmother.

“Why did no one ever tell me any of this before?”

“Because those memories are still too painful. And because…” She trailed off on a whisper.

“Because why?”

My aunt reached over and clutched my arm so tightly, I winced. “You can’t utter a word of what I’m about to tell you. Promise me you won’t tell another living soul.” Her nails dug into my flesh, and her face had gone as ashen as my sick mother’s.

“Aunt Lyn, let go! You’re hurting me.”

Her grip eased, but her brimming eyes held me enthralled. “The night he brought you home…your papa was covered in blood.”

* * *

I had an early dinner with my mother and Aunt Lynrose before heading back to my place on Rutledge Avenue. I hadn’t said a word to my mother about any of my aunt’s revelations. I would never risk upsetting her when she needed all her strength to battle the cancer. Somehow I’d managed to put on a mask and playact my way through the meal.

But now that I was alone in my own garden, my mind returned time and again to that conversation. Papa was my biological grandfather. That somehow felt right, even though I was still in deep shock. He’d always seemed so old to me. White-haired and stoop-shouldered for as long as I could remember. Mama was older, too, but she had the kind of grace and beauty that wore well with age and seemed timeless.

I sat in the swing, lost in thought, as Angus became acquainted with his new home. It was a cool, breezy night, one that made me think of summer’s end. Of lost love. Of Mama and her high school sweetheart. Of Papa and Tilly Pattershaw.

Inevitably my mind turned to Devlin. I wallowed for a moment, and then I tucked those memories away.

And now it was Thane Asher who occupied my thoughts.

* * *

When I arose the next morning, I knew I had to talk to Papa before I went back to Asher Falls. If I went back. I’d promised Thane that I would return, but if I really was the target of evil, then I had no future with him. I had no future with anyone. My loneliness—once an old friend that had sheltered me from the real world—was now the enemy, a monster that threatened to swallow me whole. I searched for an end, no matter how dire, but now I couldn’t trust my own thoughts. Maybe the evil was still inside me.

I almost expected to find the house closed up, but Papa’s truck was in the driveway, and when he didn’t answer my knock, Angus and I walked down to the cemetery to look for him.

The scent of fading roses drifted on a mild breeze as we wound our way through the lush trails of ivy and creeping phlox. I found Papa working on the angels, the collection of fifty-seven statues that commemorated those children whose lives had been lost in an orphanage fire at the turn of the last century. It had taken Papa years to restore the memorials, and as I moved among them now, I couldn’t help but compare those sweet, pensive faces to the hubris of the Asher angels. But I didn’t want to think about those arrogant, upturned visages that watched the mountains. I didn’t want to dwell on what had happened between Thane and me in that dreamy circle. Time enough later for brooding.

Papa glanced up as I approached, then went right back to his work.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” I said.

“Your aunt called.” His voice had thinned in the past year, and his face was even more weathered than I remembered. But the passing years hadn’t diminished his quiet dignity or his distance. He was right there before me and yet he seemed a million miles away.

“You know why I’m here, then.”

“Yes, child.”

I drew a trembling breath. “We have to talk, Papa. No more secrets.”

“Those secrets were meant to protect you, Amelia.”

“I know that. But the only thing that can protect me now is the truth.”

Silently, he gathered up his tools and put them away. “Let’s sit a spell,” he said, and we sank to the ground, facing the angels, our backs to the gate. When Angus padded over and plopped down at my feet, Papa leaned in absently to rub his head.

“That’s Angus,” I told him.

“Where did you get him?”

“In Asher Falls,” I said, and I saw him shudder. “So many strange things have happened to me there. I felt a connection from the moment I arrived, and I’m only now starting to understand why.” I paused. “Who am I, Papa?”

“You are my Amelia,” he said quietly. “And I love you more than life itself.”

My eyes filled with tears. He’d never said anything like that to me before. After the ghosts came, he’d withdrawn into himself, never showing me the slightest affection, and for years I was left wondering what I had done. But now to hear the tremor in his voice, that desperate sadness in his eyes…it was too much. I had to look away.

So many questions lingered, but I wouldn’t ask him about his time with Tilly. That belonged to them. I didn’t condone what had happened—I was fiercely loyal to my mother, after all—but I could understand it. Two desperately lonely people with their secrets—Papa with his ghosts and Tilly with her premonitions.

Drawing my legs up, I laid my cheek on my knees. “What are we, Papa?”

“In the olden days, we were called caulbearers. Babies born behind the veil with the ability to see beyond the real world into the spirit world. Nowadays, it’s considered an old wives’ tale, but it happens every generation or so in our family.”

“Was Freya born behind the veil?”

“Yes. And she had Tilly’s ability to sense things. She was an extraordinary child, I’m told.”

I glanced at him. “You never knew her, Papa?”

He stared out over the graveyard so that I couldn’t see the desolation in his eyes. “She was my daughter, my only child, but I never saw her alive.”

My heart quickened. “Have you seen her ghost?”

“I saw her corpse.” And the sorrow in his voice brought a fresh sting of tears to my eyes.

I dug the little broken wing from my pocket and handed it to him. “I found this in your things. I shouldn’t have taken it.”

His fingers closed around the bit of porcelain, and he clasped it tightly as he told me his story, how he had not seen or heard from Tilly since he’d gone back to my mother. He hadn’t even known about a baby until Tilly had called one night seventeen years after he’d last seen her and told him just enough to send him flying back to Asher Falls where he’d learned that Freya, his only child, had been murdered.

“Did Tilly know who killed her?”

“She never told me. I guess she was afraid of what I might do. But she had a vision of her child’s death. That’s what guided her to Freya.”

“She found the body?”

He nodded.

“But if she knew Freya was murdered, why didn’t she go to the police? Why did she let everyone think that her daughter had died in a fire?”

“Because she didn’t want anyone to know about you.”

“Why?”

“You were born after Freya was murdered.”

My heart started to hammer. “After?”

His eyes grew distant. “The girl had snuck out of the house to meet someone that night. Tilly didn’t even know she was missing until she woke up from a dream. That dream led her to the laurel bald where she found a fresh grave.”

“Freya’s grave.”

“And yours, child.”

The shock of his words stole my breath even though I must have already intuited the truth. That was why I’d been so overcome at the gravesite. Why that terrible suffocation had pressed down on me. I had been buried there with my murdered mother.

Angus had sensed it, too. That must have been how he found the grave. As impossible as it seemed, he must have picked up my scent, not my mother’s.

I tunneled my fingers through his fur, and he turned, dark eyes gleaming as he nuzzled against me.

“The grave was so shallow the dirt barely covered the body,” Papa said. “She hadn’t been there long. Only moments. Her skin was still warm, and Tilly prayed that she might still be alive. But when she unearthed her, there was no heartbeat. No pulse. The only thing Tilly could do was try and save the baby.”

I had been buried alive, I thought in horror. I had been born to a dead mother. No wonder my life was so strange.

“You weren’t breathing, even when Tilly peeled away the veil. She resuscitated you. She blew her breath into your lungs and brought you back from the other side.”

Brought me back from the other side.

An icy hand grazed my nerve endings.

“And then she gave me to you,” I said softly.

“Yes, but before I took you home, I had to see my child. I had to give her a proper burial so that she could rest in peace.”

My poor, young mother hadn’t been able to rest, but I wouldn’t tell Papa. I wanted him to have that solace.

At least I now knew why he’d been covered in blood when he brought me home. “You’ve been caring for her grave all these years.”

“It was all I could do for her.”

“But, Papa, why did you bury her north to south? Surely it wasn’t because—”

“I didn’t want her facing those mountains,” he said harshly.

I caught my breath. “You felt it, too.” The wind, the dankness. That awful howling.

“Yes, I felt it. So did your mother when we lived there. So did Tilly.”

His gaze moved to the angels. “It was there when you were born. It was with you on the other side. Tilly sensed it that night. There was a terrible struggle, she said.”

I thought of that day in the cemetery when she had tugged me out of the briar patch.

“You fought hard, Amelia. You battled your way back, but even as you drew your first breath, Tilly knew it wasn’t over. She was afraid for you. Afraid it would come for you. She knew she had to get you out of Asher Falls. She thought you would be safe with me.”

I hugged my knees. “Why did you shut me out, Papa? Why did you turn away when I needed you the most?”

He looked old and defeated, indescribably weary. “I was afraid the ghost we saw that day had been sent to watch over you. I was afraid the evil had found you and it would use my devotion to you—my weakness—to somehow get to you.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. Angus sensed my agitation and whimpered. “All this just because I came back from the other side?”

“And because the power it could wield through you on this side would be very, very strong.”

“Why?”

“You are the last of the Ashers,” he said.

I buried my face in my arms, succumbing to a storm of emotions. “Who is my father?” I asked fearfully.

“Edward Asher.”

“Was he evil? Was he in league like the others?”

“I don’t know. But his blood runs through your veins, so your ties to that place are strong. That’s why you were lured back there.”

“But why now?”

“The rules kept you safe,” Papa said. “But you broke them, and now that the door has been opened, you’re vulnerable. Those closest to you are the most dangerous because it will try to use them to weaken you. It will lie and trick and deceive you. You mustn’t let it. And you must never, ever return to Asher Falls.”

I lifted my head. “If it fears me, then there must be a way to defeat it. I can’t live like this, Papa. I can’t live with the loneliness. Sometimes I think I’d be better off dead.”

“Don’t say that! Don’t even think it.”

“Then help me destroy it.”

“You still don’t understand, do you?” He turned away quickly, but not before I’d seen that same look of pity and regret in his eyes.

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