I Remember (Remembrance Series) (39 page)

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Authors: Cynthia P. O'Neill

BOOK: I Remember (Remembrance Series)
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As we walked through the door and took in the interior, he pulled me closer to his side, knowing that our journey of discovery had already begun.

The woman who helped us check in confirmed that Charlotte Smithfield, her great-great grandmother, had grown up and later reared her own family in the house. She asked if we were related. “My great-great grandmother was friends with her.” It seemed like a sensible answer.

When we opened our room, it was no surprise that I recognized Charlotte’s bedroom. The only exception was the modernized in-suite bathroom.

I sat on the bed and closed my eyes, recalling all the fun times and conversations we had, especially her supportive nature right before the wedding.

“Don’t cry, Angeline. She is not worth the tears that you shed. Does Daniel know of her latest attempts to prevent your marriage?”

“Jordan?” Gregory sat on the bed beside me as the visions kept coming, one right after another, recalling almost all of Angeline’s life in perfect detail.

He finally shook my shoulders to dispel the trance. “What did you remember?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He held me tightly to him, “Your eyes glaze over and start moving at a very fast, like you are reading through pages or images.”

“I’m sorry about that. Everything keeps flooding back. I remembered talking to Charlotte about someone causing problems prior to Angeline’s wedding. The only person who had an issue with their marriage was Cornelia, Daniel’s sister in-law.”

He shook his head, “But I recall Daniel talking with her and she was forced to keep her tongue.”

I didn’t want to argue with him, so I changed the subject. “So, who do we talk to first?”

“We are going to grab some lunch and meet with my cousin David, this afternoon. He is Daniel’s, long descended nephew and related to my mother through her side of the family.”

We had lunch at an old-style colonial tavern. The menu was eclectic, but the décor continued to bring back memories to both of us. Once we were done, Anderson drove us over to a different part of town; to a modern, one-story brick home, where David Livingston lived.

David and Gregory hugged and Gregory introduced me. They talked a little about the family and then got down to the questions about Daniel. Gregory didn’t go into detail about why we wanted to know about Daniel, only that we were doing genealogy charts as part of a wedding gift to one another—which was the truth; however, we left out the part about how we were them in another life.

I thought the visit would be a waste of time, but David happened to be the one person who held onto all the historical references for his mother’s side of the family.

He pulled out several containers of newspaper articles, hand-written letters, and journals. We dug through all of them and managed to discover that Daniel had also received a note, the night before he was to be wed to Angeline, and took off into the night, never to be seen or heard from again.

I secretly wondered if they had sent the notes to one another, citing that would probably be the only reason to leave their homes and see each other the night before the wedding. I could tell Gregory was pondering the same thought.

We spent a good portion of the afternoon and evening at David’s house, going through the rest of the containers to see if there were any other clues. Luckily, we had been able to trace Lorraine all the way back to Daniel’s brother, who had a daughter that became Lorraine’s great grandmother.

We had almost given up hope of finding anything else, when I stumbled on an elaborate decorative box. I tried in vain to open the lid, but it would not budge.

Gregory took the box from my hands, turned it over in his palms a few times and then a look of realization crossed his face. I watched as he moved the lower corner of one side, shifted a piece of wood along the back and then pushed in a decorative piece on the front and box opened.

“How did you know to do that?” David asked, in amazement.

“I had a box very similar to this, when I was younger.” Though I suspected it was from his childhood as Daniel.

Inside were several love letters from Angeline and a note dated, December 2, 1884; that read:

 

 

Gregory held the note so I could read it. The wording and handwriting was questionable. I wanted a closer look, but as soon as my hand touched the paper, it felt like it was on fire.

Concern was etched on his face as he leaned in and whispered, “Something is wrong with the note isn’t it?”

I nodded and whispered back, “I am positive Angeline didn’t write this. I don’t know why, but when I tried to touch it, my hand felt like it was on fire. Plus, a black haze surrounds the paper.” I suddenly realized I was beginning to see auras without to the use of Ray’s magnifying glass.

“Perhaps it is the darkness?”

David asked if we wanted to go through everything a second time, but Gregory declined, citing we had already had a long day. I took the cue and began to yawn, giving us opportunity to get us out of there. David was generous to allow us to hold onto and make copies of the things we had found. We promised to have Anderson return them in a few days.

Gregory decided we should grab a light dinner on the way back to the B & B and turn in early, since we had a long day ahead of us. Our new goal was to dig up some local research, through the city’s archives, and talk with one other cousin, one of Daniel’s great-grand nieces.

I sat in bed, examining Angeline’s letters to Daniel, while Gregory took his turn to change into his nighttime attire. He had laid out the final note we received on the bedspread, while I placed the other notes alongside it, to compare penmanship.

The scripts were similar in nature, but easily identifiable as not belonging to Angeline. The capital letters had too much flourish to them, whereas, Angeline’s letters, were decorative, but simple.

I began reading the letters, hoping to recall memories of writing them. I was soon swept up, recalling a night I had spent in that very room, with Charlotte, pouring my heart out in pen to Daniel. All the love and emotion she professed were the same feelings I had toward Gregory, only mine ran deeper.

My mind began to drift as the scene unfolded. I walked to where Charlotte had been kneeling on the floor, writing in her journal, while I wrote my letter to Daniel. Without realizing it, I soon found myself kneeling in the same area of the floor and feeling for the trick board that no one else knew about.

“Is everything all right, Jordan?” Gregory’s voice was filled with concern, watching my hands move frantically along the floor, until I found the groove I was looking for.

“I remembered Charlotte would often write in her journal while Angeline would write letters to Daniel.” I paused for a moment, lifting the board and reaching into the dark space. “If we’re lucky, no one knew that this is where she hid her book.”

My hand hit on something hard and rectangular. I pulled it out and recognized the journal’s box. I opened the lid cautiously, sending up a silent prayer that the book had withstood the years.

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath, until I caught sight of the book and exhaled in relief. The cover was worn with age, but it still had some of the burgundy coloring and gold trim from the past.

Gregory went over to the bed to look at Angeline’s letters and compared the handwriting. I dusted off the journal before crawling back onto the bed to see if Charlotte had written any clues to Angeline’s disappearance.

“You’re right, the handwriting doesn’t match up. But, if this didn’t come from Angeline, then who sent it?”

I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say. Then it dawned on me. “I bet that Angeline’s letter came from the same sender, but it probably had Daniel’s name on it.”

He nodded in agreement, and I began to scanning the journal, looking for the dates surrounding the wedding. We were in luck. Charlotte was happy to be part of the ceremony and had written down all the details, even a rough sketch of the wedding dress. I had obviously forgotten how meticulous she could be.

“Gregory, listen to this,” I suggested, as I found an entry that had significance.

 

 

 

 

I was happy to hear that Angeline’s dearest cousin ended up happy. Her journal went on to detail various births and deaths of individuals in her family. She only referenced Angeline a few times, hoping that one day they would know what happened. As far as the family knew, they had run off together, but no one seemed to buy the story.

She mentioned a couple of individuals who were against the union, one in particular, Daniel’s sister in-law, the other, one of my father’s young associate’s Damien, who had expressed interest in courting Angeline, but had failed to gain approval of her and her father.

The activities of the day had finally worn me out. I placed Charlotte’s journal back in its hiding place within the floor, before turning in for the evening.

Gregory left a light on in the bathroom and pulled the door, to where a gentle glow filled the room. He climbed in bed and pulled me close to his chest before nuzzling beneath my earlobe with his lips and kissing his way down my chin, until his lips met mine, with firm pressure.

“Sleep tight my Jordan, my Angeline. I love you with all my heart and soul; and no matter what is thrown at us, we will get through it, together.”

I soon found myself drifting to an unconscious plane, where Gregory was waiting for me. We stayed surrounded with each other’s embrace all through the night, as we ventured into visions of our past and plans for our future.

 

 

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