Dreamscape (12 page)

Lanie wondered about the delineation Addy had made.
If the Doctor invited me, I would be welcome?
The implication in her tone was rather clear. Without Dr. Bowen’s personal invitation, she wouldn’t be welcome at all.

When Addy returned with her garments, Lanie commented on the lovely silver broach the housekeeper wore over her heart.

Addy touched it. “It belonged to the Doctor’s mother, God rest her beautiful soul. Mr. Jackson Bowen, a doctor himself like his son, gave it to me after he came home from the war. The missus had died in childbirth with her wee little angel girl.” Addy sniffed, her nose running and eyes misting. “I helped raise his boy, you see, while Doctor Jackson was away. We both lost loved ones to the war, though in different ways. He lost his wife because he wasn’t here to help with the birthing, though only God knows if there was anything he could have done. And I lost my dear Bernie at Gettysburg. Jacy helped me to go past a broken heart as surely as if he were my own, I mean Doctor Jason.” She smiled. “Jacy’s what I used to call him as a tot. I forget sometimes.”

Lanie’s recent loss made her extremely empathetic. She told the housekeeper, “I’m sorry to hear of your loss. Thank you for sharing that with me, Addy. And you’re right. Though we just met here, I can tell the Doctor is a fine man. You did well by his mother and his father.”

“Thank you, dear.” Addy patted Lanie’s arm thinking if only Jacy had married
this
one and not that cold dead fish downstairs. This one was more to his temperament. The Doctor did everything he could to please his wife and it never seemed enough. The housekeeper considered Lanie. The young woman had a familiar look about her. She was such a pretty little thing, and good-natured and well-mannered to boot. Addy wondered if divorce were possible. But then, Jacy would have to want it.

Washed and dressed in clean clothes, Lanie smoothed her hair, feeling much refreshed. Her stomach rumbled and thoughts of her presence being an imposition to the doctor and his wife diminished, she was too famished in that moment to care. Leaving her bags and reticule behind, she headed downstairs and found Dr. Bowen looking out the window on the second-floor landing.

He was dressed in black, the cloth fitting him perfectly across his wide shoulders. The damp hair at his nape curled slightly where he’d quickly washed, the ends a darker brown where they’d not yet dried. She noticed a garnet ring and a silver wedding band graced the third fingers on both of the hands that were braced upon either side of the window frame as he looked into the courtyard below.
Such a handsome man you are.
No sooner had her mind uttered those words when she suddenly filled with a sense of familiarity. He was the boy she’d met so long ago now grown to manhood.

Jason unbelievably found himself at the point where Lanie’s dream had stopped last. Standing on the landing looking down at his mother’s rose bushes, he wondered what he was supposed to discover by returning to the days preceding his death.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Dr. Bowen.”

He turned to the sound. What a vision she was all dressed in blue with her raven hair smoothed and pinned up like a Gibson girl. He had the overwhelming desire to draw her into his arms and kiss those lips he knew to be sweet and warm. Thinking of that warmth and the places on her body that he knew were warmer still, a heaviness began to settle down the front of his trousers. “
Please
, call me Jason. And it is my pleasure, Lanie.” He offered his arm. “May I escort you down?”

“Certainly.”

When she smiled he felt as though his heart had turned over in his chest.

Lanie’s nose met a delicious scent floating up the long curving staircase. Her stomach rumbled. Mortified, she pressed a hand to her belly. “My goodness, my stomach sounds like I haven’t eaten in days. That’s near the truth. To save time today, I’m afraid I neglected to eat.”

He chuckled. “Mrs. Boatwright is an excellent cook.” He patted his belly. “I swear there’re times I sound like I have a bear buttoned up in my weskit.”

She laughed. “If the aroma is this delicious, I can only imagine the taste.”

“Mrs. Boatwright always outdoes herself. I’m sure my wife wanted this evening’s fare to be extra special.” Having more than one hundred years to think about this introduction to his wife’s lover, he remembered this particular meal very well. His mood took a turn. Changing topics to one far more enjoyable, he suggested, “Perhaps after dinner we might adjourn to my study and discuss what it is you came to see me about.”

“I would like that. Hopefully we can wrap up our discussion quickly. I feel an imposition given you have guests.”

“Nonsense, Lanie, I knew your father. In fact, I recall hearing how he and my father were good friends. They served together at Vicksburg and became friends in the surgery.”

“Yes, my father’s arm.” Her father had lost the use of his arm, but as useless as the appendage was, he was still whole. He’d said more than once that he owed his life to Jackson Bowen.

He asked, “Do you have plans for the holiday?”

She shook her head. “No, my father would march in the parade and we’d picnic after but…” The words stuck in the back of her throat. When she could speak again, she said, “I’m sorry.”

Patting the arm he held, he said gently, “Then please stay here with me. Perhaps with more time at our leisure we can find solutions to any issue your father’s estate may have.”

“Dr. Bowen, I…”

“Jason.”

“Jason, I’m certain Mrs. Bowen would desire to see to her guests without a complete stranger underfoot.”

“Exactly my meaning.”

“Pardon me?”

“My wife will be occupied catching up with her dear cousins. I would be no more than a third wheel.” He pulled her arm close in his, leaned his head toward her, and whispered, “Say yes, Lanie. You’ll be saving me from the shadows of their childhood remembrances.”

Her mouth twitched. “If Mrs. Bowen should object…”

“My wife has already been informed of the possibility.” He paused at the second landing.

Lanie turned to him noticing how his pleasant eyes had darkened to a rich whiskey brown.

Those very eyes lit when he coaxed, “Say yes.”

“If you’re certain it’s no imposition, then yes, I’ll stay through the weekend. I could
so
use your counsel.”

He gave her a breathtaking smile. Again the rush of familiarity filled her, along with something else, something far more disconcerting—an image of those handsome lips pressed to hers in a kiss. Her cheeks felt warm again.

Jason could see the telltale blush as she returned her attention to the stairs and wondered what that enchanting flush of color was about.

Feminine laugher coming from the parlor followed by the deeper timbre of a man’s voice met them on the bottom stair. Curiously, the man at Lanie’s side suddenly stiffened, the muscles in the arm she held grew taut. She looked up at his face but saw nothing to account for it.

“Miss O’Keefe, it would appear our party has already begun,” Jason told her loudly enough for the revelers to hear as they rounded the corner to the parlor.

Cathy whirled around, her obvious enjoyment noticeably diminishing at the sound of her husband’s approach. She recovered quickly, and soon replaced the frown with the bright, beautiful smile Jason now knew to be a treacherous lie. “Darling, Bertha has arrived and brought her brother, Richard.”

Bertha rushed forward and pulled him into an exaggerated embrace. “So wonderful to see you, Jason!” Obviously happy, she kissed his cheek and held onto him slightly longer than a proper Southern woman might. Bertha couldn’t help herself. She’d fancied this man since his father first brought him to Atlanta.

Extracting himself, Jason forced a smile. “And good to see you again, Bertha. My wife has eagerly awaited your visit. She speaks of nothing else but her ‘dear Bertha and her brother Richard whom she’d love to know better.’”

Bertha laughed, the braying sound aptly accompanying her equine face. “Well, that’s why Richard accompanied me. You know, we ran in…”

“Different circles. Yes, so I’ve heard,” Jason finished. Then, acknowledging the grinning man who gave the unfortunate family countenance to his great-great-granddaughter Margaret, he extended his hand. “And you must be Richard.”

“Jason.” Richard took it, his smile lingering. And all the while Jason kept his resolve not to beat the man within an inch of his life.

“My sister has pestered me for the last few months to come see her dear friend Cathy. So good of you to invite us for the holiday.” His eyes fell on Lanie with obvious appreciation. “And who might this pretty Miss be? Not your
sister,
surely?” Richard held out his hand, his earlier smile now lighting his eyes.

Cathy rushed forward and, hooking her arm in Lanie’s, promptly pulled her before Bertha. “Please forgive the lapse of manners. In all the excitement of seeing my dear, dear friends I have forgotten further introductions are necessary. Bertha, Richard, this is Miss…uh…”

“O’Keefe, Elaine O’Keefe,” Lanie filled in. Cathy’s hold on her eased a bit.

“Charmed, Miss O’Keefe. May I call you Elaine?” Bertha asked, eyeing her from head to toe.
Obviously whoever you are you do not know how to dress appropriately for dinner.

“She’s come on business and will be staying for dinner,” Cathy informed her guests. “I’m sure their commerce won’t take long.”

His earlier reminder coming to the fore, Jason told them, “Actually, Miss O’Keefe’s business is better not rushed through, as we’ve much to discuss. She’ll be staying until all is said that needs saying. I’m sure our business will not impact your plans in the least.”

Cathy smoothly recovered her composure. She smiled prettily at Lanie. “Then you simply
must
make yourself at home. I’m sure Addy can aptly see to any need you may have. Should there be time, do join us for the holiday festivities.”

Bertha made sound similar to the heehaw of a jackass when she laughed. “Yes, do. The more the merrier!”

Richard came forward and held out his arm. “May I escort you to the table, Lanie?” A noticeable few seconds passed before Cathy let her go that she might take it.

Jason laughed. His wife and her friend turned around to look at him curiously. Richard, his attentions fully on the lovely, raven-haired houseguest, failed to notice. Jason held out both elbows. “Ladies, that leaves me to escort you both.”

Bertha gave a long-faced grin. “I’d never refuse a charming man’s arm.”

Cathy eyes followed Richard and shot daggers at Lanie’s back.

“I’m very much looking forward to dinner, my dear.” Jason chuckled.

Jason was behaving oddly. The O’Keefe woman’s business no doubt. Cathy’s fake smile returned. “As am I.”

No sooner had he uttered the words when he was pulled into the waking world by Lanie’s ringing telephone.

Sparing a glance at the clock, Lanie read a quarter past five. She asked sleepily, “Hello?”

It was Lexie. “Hey, did I wake you?”

“Yeah, no biggie. I’d be getting up soon anyway. Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” After seeing to her need to use the bathroom, she quickly returned and set the phone to speaker so she could dress. “What’s up?”

“I shouldn’t have had that second cup of coffee. I couldn’t sleep at all. I don’t know how
you
handle coffee at night.”

Having survived her residency completely fueled by coffee, she said, “Med school. Caffeine is part of my DNA now. You were saying?”

“So anyway, I couldn’t sleep, so I went the through the rest of the stuff I had on the Bowen mystery. I found a society page in the May fifth
Gazetteer
. Jason Bowen’s wife was a Southern belle who was apparently orphaned sometime late in the war. She lived with distant cousins.”

“And?” Lanie yawned.

“And those cousins happened to be the
Masons.
She might have had something going with Richard Mason years before she met Jason. Maybe that’s why she married him so quickly. They already had a history.”

“A
cousin
?”

“It happened in the South, even between first cousins though that seemed to be a rarer thing. All those plantation families intermarried. In a lot of respects they were the American version of European gentry. The classes tended to stay within their own societal circles and kept the wealth and resources in the family so to speak.”

“That
is
interesting.”

“But get this, Jackson Bowen was a major stockholder in the Mason textile mill.”

“Yeah, you read where Jackson was involved in the Restoration.”

“Jason must have gone down there with his dad and met her.” There was silence on the other end of the phone. Lexie said, “
Don’t
you see?”

Lanie shook her head. Having just woken up she wasn’t readily following her friend’s line of thought. “See what?”