Ashlyn's Radio (34 page)

Ashlyn silently prayed Caden wouldn’t get in the car. She needed him so much. Needed to show him how much. He must have divined her thoughts  — it showed in his grin as he ran back toward her.

“I think I’ll head home,” Maudette said tactfully. Ashlyn caught the wide grin on Maudette’s face as Caden strode toward her granddaughter.

Ashlyn threw her arms around Caden, and kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

But of course there was a tomorrow. For all of them.

“Where’s Rachel?” Ashlyn asked with her first breath after that dizzying kiss.

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll take that as a sign I’d better work on my technique.”

“You’re technique is fine,” she said, giving him a jab. “But still, she was here just a minute ago….”

She glanced around, finally catching sight of Rachel. She sat on the platform a ways down the tracks. And though Ashlyn couldn’t tell who was there beside her, she definitely was not sitting alone. Who the hell was it? As she and Caden hurried toward her, Ashlyn felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck. Could feel the protective impulse pulsing through her.

If that was Arch Riley, she’d have a thing or two to say to him. No way was Rachel going home again. She’d call the cops herself before—

But it wasn’t Arch Riley.

It was Brian Caldwell. Holding his head down in his left hand, and a bottle tight in his right. Ashlyn didn’t feel much better about Brian being there. Especially when she heard the sobs.

“Caden, if he’s being mean to her, I swear I’ll—”

“Wait, babe.”

Ashlyn stopped, and listened. It wasn’t Rachel’s sobs she heard, but Brian’s.

“I … I was ready to get on that train,” he said. “When I heard that whistle blow, I fled in the other direction. But when I stopped, I heard it again. And God help me, I couldn’t get here fast enough. You don’t … you don’t know how alone I am in this.” He gestured to the bottle. “I just drive around and I can’t get drunk and I can’t get sober and I can’t get out of my head. Can’t get out of my skin….”

“But you
didn’t
get on the train, Brian,” Rachel pressed. She tightened her arms around his shoulders. “All this time, you
didn’t
take that ticket. And I know how hard that is. If you could fight that conductor’s pull, you can fight anything. Trust me. I know!”

Brian looked up. He stood suddenly when he saw Ashlyn and Caden. “I … I know what you did, Ashlyn.” He swallowed, audibly. “You saved me tonight too.”

“I’m glad, Brian,” Ashlyn said. “But maybe it’s time you saved yourself.”

He ran a hand through his hair in indecision. Then, suddenly, he straightened his spine. “I’ll start right now,” Brian said. He threw the bottle away.

A
SHLYN SAT BETWEEN CADEN
’
S
outstretched legs on the floor, leaning back against the warm backrest of his chest, as they watched Lolly-Pup’s puppies playing.

The pups were nearly six weeks old now, and in another week, they’d all be gone to trusted owners. One to Caden’s family. In fact, Professor and Mrs. Williams — or Fairfax and Janice, as they now insisted Ashlyn call them, along with Caden’s little sister — had been here to visit with Darby, their chosen pup, earlier today and had already started to bond with it.

But for now, the puppies, though weaned, were still together. And right now, they were furnishing great entertainment as they growled and tussled and played and explored the new tubes and boxes Maudette had introduced to their play space.

“Look, Darby’s awake, finally,” Caden said. “I hope she’s not slow.”

She dug her knuckle into his thigh until he yelped. “Darby is
not
slow. She’s just worn out from all that extra attention your mom and dad gave her.”

Ashlyn turned in time to see Darby yawn widely, take a step, then tumble headfirst out of the whelping box. A nearby sibling took that as an invitation to play, and leapt on his sister with a fierce growl.

“Okay, she’s a little clumsy, but not slow.”

Caden laughed. “I know. I just love to get you going.”

She tipped her head back and twisted so she could see his face. “You don’t have to resort to those lengths to do that,” she said, wetting her lower lip with her tongue. “In fact, you don’t have to do anything at all.”

He groaned and leaned down to kiss her. Which was all the encouragement she needed to twist in his arms for better access. In no time at all, they were both breathing hard, their hearts pounding.

“Remind me, what’s the countdown again?” she asked, when he lifted his head.

“Nineteen days,” he said hoarsely.

Nineteen more days to wait. Actually, just fifteen more days until her 18th birthday, but in nineteen days, they were going to drive together to Cambridge so he could tour Harvard U. He’d been accepted to their School of Engineering and Applied Sciences undergraduate program, and she couldn’t be more proud of him. But the point was,
road trip to Boston as consenting adults, with no parentals in tow!
She sure hoped he was eating his Wheaties, because she planned to keep him busy.

Out of the gutter, Ashlyn.

Groaning, she settled back against his chest and let his gradually slowing heartbeat bring her own pulse down. The stroke of his hands on her arms now was soothing, quieting. Ah, better.

Maybe when she and Rachel went to Orono for the tour, Caden could come with them. They could turn it into an overnight and….

And her libido was slipping its leash again. Damn!

She forced her thoughts back to next fall and university. She and Rachel had settled on the University of Maine at Orono. English for her, of course, and psychology for Rachel. Ashlyn kind of always figured she’d wind up going to U of T or McMaster or Ottawa, maybe even McGill in Montreal. But now, she wasn’t anxious to go back home.

Actually, it might be more accurate to say home had shifted.

Her mom had been out of hospital now for months, and had made the permanent move back to Prescott Junction. Once Leslie had learned of the train’s destruction, her life had fallen back into place. Slowly. But absolutely, surely. Her daughter was out of danger, and her beloved Patrick’s soul was at rest.

As Leslie explained to Ashlyn, she’d fought Patrick all those years ago when he’d told her what he meant to do. Fought him bitterly, and held it against him all these years. She hadn’t really believed he’d be able to save Ashlyn, feared his sacrifice would come to naught against the might of the conductor. All he’d done by boarding that train, she feared, was cheat them out of any chance at happiness. He’d left her to raise their daughter on her own, shoulder all that worry by herself.

And then, when Leslie had come home in the spring after Maudette had that heart scare, the radio had sung once more of Ashlyn boarding the train. But this time, that smooth-voiced announcer warned that the event was imminent. Nothing in the world, natural or unnatural, he’d declared, could possibly prevent young Ashlyn Caverhill from boarding that train.

It had been more than Leslie could bear. Desperate to stop that evil train once and for all, she’d bought all those cans of gas at different places from here to Bangor, driven to the old train station and parked her mother’s ancient Cavalier on the tracks. Then she’d doused the whole works in gasoline and waited in the Prescott Junction night for that ghost train to come through. Waited for it to plow right into her improvised incendiary device, blowing itself to hell where it belonged! She’d hoped she wouldn’t be destroyed along with it, but if it came to that, she was ready for it. To save Ashlyn. To save their daughter.

But her daughter had saved herself, and the rest of them too.

So with nothing to fear in Prescott Junction anymore, and perhaps nothing more to grieve, it was time for Leslie to call this little podunk village home again.

Besides, Maudette wasn’t getting any younger, and she could use the help, especially after Caden left for college. More to the point, Maudette could afford the help, with the investments her late husband had made. And now that the train was gone and the radio no longer played, Leslie had no reason not to come back home. She and Maudette had a lot of years to make up for.

Yeah, the radio. It had stopped playing for good the night the ghost train was derailed. No one noticed its failure to play at first, until Ashlyn went down to the basement one day and found dust accumulating on the polished wood. Actual dust! And when she pressed her fingerprint to the glass, it stayed there. The radio was nothing but an inanimate piece of furniture now.

Maudette’s first instinct was to destroy it now while it was powerless. The radio had been the bane of her existence for as long as she could remember, and it was hard for her to think about it in any other way. However, as Ashlyn and Leslie pointed out, were it not for the radio’s warnings, things might have turned out very differently with the conductor. Tragically. The radio wasn’t evil. It had been on their side all along. And now that it was no longer needed, its “soul” had passed on too. That’s how Ashlyn liked to think about it. So the old Henderson radio stayed and gathered a glorious layer of dust in Maudette’s basement.

“Hey, you guys in here?”

They swiveled at the sound of Rachel’s voice.

“Back here in the puppy pen,” Caden called.

A second later, Rachel opened the half-door and stepped into the room. As usual, she wore long sleeves, but Ashlyn noted immediately that the material was very fine. Not translucent; nowhere near that. But neither was it her standard armor-like concealment. But even more striking, the bodice of the shirt had a pretty, swirly pattern of bright blue and muted browns instead of unrelieved black.

Of course her nails were still tipped with black and she rocked her usual Goth jewelry.

“Are you guys making out
again
?”

“Every chance we get,” Ashlyn admitted cheerfully. “But right now, at this very minute? No.”

“I found a prom dress online that doesn’t make me want to vomit. Much. Maybe you could look at it with me?”

Ashlyn’s eyes lit up. Brian Caldwell had asked her to go with him, but she’d been on the fence about it. “You’re going, then? With Brian?”

“Maudette guilted me into it,” she muttered.

“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Ashlyn agreed. But even as she said the words, she could see from the sparkle in Rachel’s eyes that her friend hadn’t needed too much arm-twisting. There was something there, for sure, between her and Brian. Two wounded souls. But Ashlyn had already had the critical conversation with Rachel. If young Mr. Caldwell fell off the wagon, or if he took even an
ounce
of his pain out on Rachel, his ass was Ashlyn’s.

But yeah, Ashlyn could also see her grandmother putting the guilt trip on Rachel.
You only graduate high school once, young lady.
Plus Rachel was the recipient of the first annual Caverhill Scholarship: full tuition, four years. No doubt Rachel felt she owed Maudette for that. Also, she felt a debt to Maudette for the roof over her head these past months, and for standing up to Arch Riley when he’d tried to make her go home. Ashlyn was pretty sure there wasn’t much Rachel wouldn’t do for the old lady now.

“So, you coming in to look at this non-gag-reflex-triggering dress or what?”

Caden stirred, as though to get up. “Go on along. I still have work to do in the main kennels.”

She put a hand on his leg to still him, then looked up at Rachel. “I’ll be right there, ’kay, Rach? I need a minute with my guy.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, but left.

“Okay, you’ve got me at your mercy.” He spread his arms wide. “Do your worst.”

She jabbed him with an elbow. “Hey, I want to
talk
, not fool around.”

She felt his laughter vibrate through her. “I kinda figured,” he confessed. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have presented so large a target. I don’t think I can go from zero to sixty in five seconds again tonight and survive it.”

“You poor boy.”

“No.” He nuzzled her behind her ear. “I’m a lucky, lucky boy.”

She tilted her neck and shivered. Once again, her heart overflowed with love for him, something that happened way too often. But somehow not nearly often enough.

He lifted his head. “You wanted to say something?”

“Oh, yeah.” It took her a few seconds to gather her wits. “Remember what the radio said? What the conductor said? You know, about me being the end of the line. What if I really
am
the end of the line, literally? What if I can’t have any babies? Is that what the radio meant? I mean, I’m not saying the two of us are going to be together forever and get married and all that, but what if it’s true that I can’t have kids? Do you really want to get involved with me?”

“Desperately,” he said, and there was no joking in his voice. “Ash, honey, if that’s what it means, that you can’t have any kids, then we’ll deal. But, baby, it could mean all kinds of things. Maybe it means you won’t have any daughters. The radio could only be heard by the women of your family, right?”

Omigod, he was right! She hadn’t thought of that. “Right.”