His Haunted Heart (16 page)

“Go inside, Delilah.”

Marie’s head turned toward me and anger brewed in her yesterday stare.

“Go inside.” I ground out through a clenched jaw.

“Come with me. I won’t go in unless you come with me. She doesn’t hurt me when we are together.”

Her words snapped me to attention. It was as if her voice overrode any notions of me trying to approach Marie.

I took the steps in one motion and joined her, my purpose renewed.

“You’ve seen your sister.”

She sidled up next to me and beckoned me downward with her fingers. The heat pulsed between us even in these circumstances. It was undeniable and her instant blush told me it was palpable to her as well.

She put her mouth to my ear and giggled. “I heard her nasal voice from outside. I never realized it was that loud. I’m surprised she didn’t try to flirt with you. I would’ve loved to see your face.”

Cheeky—that was the word for her—cheeky.

“Would you? I can guarantee you it wouldn’t even be close to the face I made when you…” The rest of my sentence made her gasp.

A job well done.

“You’re okay with seeing her?” We moved at a snail’s pace toward the sitting room.

“You won’t let her slash me with a knife again, will you?”

I halted, struck down by her bold statement. Humans, I had no trouble protecting her against.

I had to find a way to protect her from
everything
that threatened her.

“I’m just kidding, Porter. It’s best you sit closest to her. I have a feeling her words will make me want to give her a bit of a shove into the fire.”

“Were you like this before?”

One of her eyebrows cocked. “Like what?”

“Funny and…” The other secret characteristic, I whispered into her ear, reveling in the gasp it caused.

I bit the inside of my cheek as my blushing wife collected herself. Without permission, I took her arm and led her into the sitting room where we both stopped cold, shocked at what we saw next—the audacity.

Adele, I wanted to be childish and call her ASmell or something equally immature—sat in Delilah’s chair with her bare feet propped up on my chair. Crumbs of all kinds left a trail down the front of her dress. Her jacket was unbuttoned from her gluttonous affair and a puddle of coffee spread out on the skirt.

Yet Delilah was the shunned member of the family.

“She must’ve been tired.”

“And hungry.”

“And cold.”

“Should we wake her?”

“I feel like she’s the giant that shouldn’t be woken, but then again, I want her here as little time as possible. Once mother finds out she’s eating her best shortbread cookies, she might carry your sister out over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”

The word potatoes must’ve stirred something in Adele, because she woke up with a snort.

“Oh, Delilah, finally you’re here, dearest sister.”

Dearest sister was new to Delilah, I could just tell by squint of her eyes.

There were also the remnants of their sisterly love down the side of her face.

I expected one of Delilah’s infamous quips, but instead, she’d clammed up beside me until I squeezed her hand and reminded her of where she was and who she’d become—I hoped.

“Adele, what brings you here?”

“Well…” she sat up, offended, by the swift movement of her hand up to her neck. “I didn’t realize I had to announce a visit to my own sister and her new husband.”

I stepped in, already tired of her antics. “Adele, as you realize, we are still in the honeymoon phase of our marriage. From now on, I think it appropriate if you give us at least a day’s notice.”

Every cheek in the room reddened, including June who had just stepped in when I began my oration.

“I will make note to do that from now on. Porter, dear, would you mind giving Delilah and me some privacy? I’d like to speak to my sister of womanly things.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not comfortable leaving Delilah on her own yet.”

As if I’m not irritated enough, a fluttering of fluid shadowed movement catches my eye. It’s crawling from corner to corner and I can’t help but think that this devil woman in front of my fire brought the damned thing in with her.

No one else in the room was fazed by the shadow, so I continued.

“Let’s sit down and hear your sister out.”

The alternative was paying attention to that dreadful chain around my chest.

I needed time away from all of this foolishness to end a ghost—which was foolishness in itself.

“I have just been feeling wretched lately, Delilah.”

Under her breath, June muttered, “
Not enough to nip her appetite.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, there’s something I need to tell you about, well, about your husband.”

Chapter Seventeen

Delilah

I’m neither in the mood or the disposition to hear any of Adele’s crap today. Pretending to loosen my shoulders, I look at Porter to assess his attitude about the whole thing. Not days earlier, he had insisted these people weren’t allowed in our home.

Maybe he’d let Adele in based solely on her beauty.

“You need me to rub your shoulders?”

Porter was in a world all his own. He hadn’t given Adele’s dramatic bursting faze him in the least.

“Maybe later. Let’s hear what Adele has to say.”

My sister closed her eyes and while she primped and prepped herself for the big reveal, the shadow passed in front of the fireplace and caused the flames to dance in warning. The muscles in my stomach pulled taut as I did my best not to show alarm.

The Rogue would be rich in gossip for months.

Porter’s hand slipped under mine and gripped it tighter. He’d seen the shadow too and for once I was relieved.

“I had wished to use a little more discretion in telling you this, but it seems I cannot. It is rumored that Porter has been visiting some very interesting places while he is in the city. Places I’m sure a married woman wouldn’t want her husband visiting.”

I cleared my throat. “Town gossip or did you see him with your own eyes?”

“Actually, it was Father who heard it from the Constable. They were very concerned over your reputation and that of your husband, of course.”

Eliza entered the room sometime after Adele began and as she listened on, her cheeks began to redden and puff out.

She would need more cake soon, I could feel it.

“How dare you? My son has never been anything but upstanding and honest with his wife. I’m sure of it. Porter, I thought we agreed that these
people
weren’t allowed in our home any longer.”

“These people?” Adele was, maybe for the first time in her life, offended.

“Yes, these people. Delilah is our family now and we don’t put up with persons who wish her harm, in the present or the past.”

“Diverting the subject away from your dear son, I see.”

My sister picked dirt out of her finger nails with the edge of the teaspoon. I’d never realized, despite their outer attractiveness, how foul Adele was. Yes, I knew she was hateful and unkind, but really she was a beast of a girl.

From my perspective I could see how her nose was upturned a little, resembling a pig. Her arms were gangly and much too long for her frame.

“Adele, if there’s nothing else. I think it’s time for you to leave. You’ve upset my household once again and I won’t stand for it.”

“But I have more to say!” she shouted.

“Then say it and be done.”

“There’s also a rumor that his fiancé and the stable boy had hired a crawfisherman to kill Porter after the two schemers were married for a measly ten dollars. If he hadn’t driven the poor girl to kill herself, he would’ve done it. That swamp smelling killer is telling everyone who will lend an ear that our dear Delilah will come to the same fate.”

I rolled my eyes as she pretended to be grief stricken by the very idea. Looking down, I realized Porter had released my hand. As I trailed my eyes up to his face, I was shocked to see his jaw grinding back and forth and his hands atop his thighs in fists.

It was one thing for Adele to come in and upset me, but to upset these other people was uncalled for.

This was my family now and while I’d had no backbone in my younger days—that had all changed in the span of a few short weeks.

“Get out!” I rose and pointed toward the door.

“Excuse me?” Adele used to say that all of the time.

“No. I won’t. Get out of my house.”

She stood and swiped at invisible crumbs on her shoulder when she should’ve been swiping at the clearly visible ones on her skirt. “This isn’t your house. Don’t be a fool, Delilah.”

“This is her home. Her name is on the deed and her name is attached to all of my money. Anything I owned, own, or will own is hers. If she says get out, I suggest you comply before I get involved.”

His voice shook. He was still rattled from whatever Adele referred to before.

“I won’t be visiting anymore if this is how you’re going to treat me.”

“You weren’t welcome to visit in the first place, Adele.”

With my hand on her elbow, I pulled, rather than escorted her to the door where Eliza and June were already standing at the ready with it wide open. The only thing wider were their grins.

“I—wait—I don’t have money for the man who brought me here.”

Porter pulled out some bills and held them in the air for her. With a snide mumbling, she snatched them from his hand and never looked back. We all stood there and watched as she got smaller and smaller in our minds and in our vision.

We proceeded through the rest of the day in silence. Porter hadn’t said a word about Adele’s telling and I hadn’t asked. He would tell me in good time and I would believe him.

I had no choice.

My heart had no choice in the matter.

The back porch called to me and so did the Louisiana night air. I sat in one of the rockers and let the lull of the back and forth motion calm me. I didn’t wonder about the first part of Adele’s confession. Porter didn’t strike me as the type to visit prostitutes if that was even what she alluded to.

Maybe there was something even more sinister in the city.

I’d never know. The city had always been like a dungeon to me—some may be curious, but I was not.

I’d seen a little of hell.

I didn’t want to go back.

As I looked beyond the once-white railings on the porch and out to the pond, I noticed movement along the other side of the porch. Someone was in the grass.

“Who is there?” I called, chastising myself for not sounding bolder.

“Rebel.”

Of course it was Rebel.

“What are you doing skulking around? Shouldn’t you be gone for the day?”

He took a few minutes coming to the stairs of the porch, looking down the entire time. He searched for something.

“I’ve misplaced something—important to me.”

“What is it? I’m sure it’s here somewhere. It’s getting dark, you’d better find it before then.”

The chagrin on his face unsettled me.

“I have to find it before night falls. I don’t know what will happen if I don’t.”

He talked to himself more than me. His face was red and splotchy from worry, I guessed.

“Rebel, I’m sure we can find it, but I can’t if I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“It’s none of your concern. I had it in the stable.”

Without alerting him, I pressed Marie’s necklace against my chest, just to make sure I still had it. As if I’d conjured her with the movement, her form emerged from the line of fog along the water, but this time she was an entirely different creature.

Her skin sagged off of her face in clumps of wrinkles. Her hair, once shiny and bright now slithered like snakes from her head, wet and clumped into chunks that threatened to fall out with the slightest tug. Her dress and that ribbon in her hair remained the same.

“I’ll find it Marie,” he whispered. His voice had taken on a tone that matched Marie’s appearance.

“What will you find?” Porter’s tone startled me, causing me to jump in the chair.

“Nothing. I lost something that belonged to me.”

“Better than something that belonged to me, I guess. Then again, you’re good at losing things that belong to me as well.”

“Shut up, Porter!” Rebel hissed.

“Go home, Rebel. The night is already coming in. You won’t find anything tonight. I’m sure the squirrels won’t steal whatever you’ve lost.”

“Fine. I’ll be back at the break of dawn.”

“That will be a first.”

Rebel shot Porter a glare that was meant to be deadly but stalked off anyway, swearing until we could no longer hear him.

“I want you to stay away from him—please.” The ‘please’ came after several seconds of pause.

“Porter, I came out here to get some air and he was in the bushes looking for God only knows what. He looked distraught and then…” My voice trailed off as I noticed Marie was no longer in her place or anywhere at all for that matter. “Marie was there.”

“Do you want to come inside?” He looked around, now concerned about my ghost sighting.

“No. I’m enjoying the cool air. Why don’t you come sit with me? You look like you’ve got a hundred ghosts in that head of yours.”

He said nothing but sat in the chair next to me. It was a his and hers set, the woman’s rocked and the man’s did not.

Women needed rocking chairs for babies and for their nerves.

“I don’t care what she said about you, if that’s what you’re so sullen about.”

“Sullen? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes. You’re not speaking to me. You’ve been avoiding eye contact.”

He leaned forward and raked his fingers through his black hair. There was nothing more I wanted to see at that moment than those gray eyes, but he refused. “I’m worried, Delilah. Didn’t you hear what your sister said? It’s all beginning to make sense now—well, not really, but it’s got me thinking.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Don’t you see? From the moment Marie got here, she was preoccupied with Rebel—where he was—what he was doing. She claimed it was all friendship. But I knew better. She was adopted, did I tell you that? She was—at the age of five. Even her parents were weary of her behavior. Delilah, what if it’s true? What if she’d planned it all along, marrying me and then killing me off just to take my money, my property, and she’d get Rebel as a parting gift.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. But if that was the plan and it was working, why did she kill herself?”

I kept my own notions to myself about Marie and that note.

“Something must’ve changed her mind. Maybe she felt guilty and decided that was the only way out.”

“Are you interested in my opinion on the subject?”

“Of course, Delilah.”

“Well, you said Marie was raised here and sent to the best of schools. I’ve seen several of her letters and yet the one she wrote to you looks as if it were written by a completely different person—not even a woman.”

From his troubled post, he turned to face me. Lines of distress marred his otherwise handsome face.

“Are you saying she didn’t write it?”

Everything he’d believed for who knows how long was being untangled and unraveled in one question. I didn’t even have to answer it for him to see the truth in my quiet.

“It never occurred to me. I took it at face value.”

“Porter, you and I know better than anyone to accept things at face value. Often they are the opposite of truth.”

The night descended on us. The crickets signaled our bedtime, but it came and went as he rolled the events of the day through his head over and over again. I understood his pain.

“Porter, let’s get to bed. You’re accomplishing nothing by sitting out here punishing yourself. We’ll figure all of this out.”

“Will we?”

“It’s the least I can do. I’ve brought so much strife on your house.”

For once, I was the one comforting him through the scars.

I took his silence as agreement.

Chapter Eighteen

Porter

Rebel shows up at the most peculiar moments. If he was smart enough to have a gift, that would be it.

There’s always been something about him that crawled down my spine. It was the way he looked at people when they weren’t paying attention. It was the way he never kept regular hours—always here in the mornings or at night when the last thing you wanted to see was his face.

He skulked around the property. He was more a ghost than Marie herself.

What circumstances forced my grandfather into signing a contract that cemented us into giving his family permanent employment was beyond me. They’d all given pathetic efforts at their work.

Then again, it would cost me three times as much in attorney fees as it did his annual salary to get out of the contract.

I didn’t like the way his eyes grew darker when he looked at Delilah.

I hated the way everything I knew crumbled to pieces, the more I learned about Marie and Rebel.

When I’d seen Delilah in that shamble of a house, frail and weak, I wanted to save her more than anything I’d ever desired in my life.

Yet, here she was letting me lean on her like a crutch.

On the other side of the closet, that was as large as the smaller bedrooms, I watched her undress. Much had changed between us. She no longer clung to me—she stood more confident—her posture revealed a self-assured woman instead of the oppressed creature I’d found that night.