Wanted: One Ghost (7 page)

Relieving himself, James watched from the corner of his eye as the man finished his business and pushed down on a little silver handle sending a rush of water into the trough.

“Well, isn’t that just dandy?” James exclaimed aloud, awed by the contraption.

The man gave him another odd look and backed away as he left the washroom.

A whoosh of sound from one of the stalls startled him, and a big man walked out and stopped to wash at another basin. James watched as he turned on the silver knobs, wet his hands, and then put them under a contraption on the wall that released a foamy substance. Shaking his head, James went to the basins and turned on the knobs. Water flowed, and a small sign above the sinks near the mirrors showed hands lathered in bubbles. He put his hands under the water. It was warm! How delightful!

The man turned to another machine on the wall and rubbed his hands under the blast of air. The man watched him with keen interest and gave him a half smile before leaving. James peered at himself in the mirror. Yes, he would need a change of clothing. Perhaps he was the peculiar character. No wonder they had looked at him funny.

They ended their meal. He’d finished off the hamburger and fries with a piece of pumpkin pie that he devoured with the sweet cream topping. He was accustomed to paying with coins if he didn’t have a tab at his local tavern, but now his pockets were empty.

“I would like to establish a tab here,” he told the waitress who’d served them when they approached the cash register.

“Um, we don’t set up tabs here. Cash or credit cards only.” She looked to Dr. Branford who handed her a small card. The waitress swiped it against a box with buttons. The box made a slight whirring sound and spit out a piece of paper. She ripped it off the box and gave it to April to sign with a writing instrument.

He watched her scrawl her name on the piece of paper. She was scribbling! Wasn’t she a doctor? She should know how to write properly.

“Your penmanship is atrocious! I can barely decipher the difference between your ‘A’ and your ‘B.’ Did you not have proper tutoring?”

“My handwriting is fine. We don’t use penmanship very often. We have computers to do much of our writing,” she commented when they were out of earshot of the customers lingering about.

“That is no excuse for lack of a proper, formal signature.”

After she’d opened his door, he sat in the car. It was low to the ground but comfortable. She’d adjusted the seat for his long legs. Still, he wasn’t quite sure about the experience. He’d held on for dear life as she had driven them here to the diner. The quick pace of the machine in such close proximity to others instilled a sense of unease in him. He’d seen cars in the streets of Kings Mill over the decades but he’d never been able to ride in one.

He liked the idea of the harness strap that crossed his body. He’d been amazed when April had first introduced him to it before driving to the diner. She’d insisted he had to wear one because it was the law.

“You need to buckle up your seat belt.”

“My what?”

“The strap across your chest…like before.”

He must have given her a curious look because she reached across him to grab a strap of material near the door. James inhaled the freshness of her unique scent. Heather and lavender fields came to mind with a bit of something sweet, vanilla perhaps? Her hand rested on his thigh for balance, mere inches from his groin. He watched her push the metal clasp into an apparatus which seemed to be its mate. A piece of her dark, auburn hair came loose from her braid and drifted against her cheek.

James took the opportunity to touch it. Her hair had been a source of fascination for him since they met. Smooth, like the finest silks shipped in from the Orient. Caressing the strand between his thumb and finger, he delighted in the texture. The curl mesmerized him for moments, until he noticed the wary look in April’s eyes.

“I’ve wanted to touch your hair since the first time I saw you, dreamed of how soft it might be.”

His fingers continued their intimate caress of her hair. She was so close to him, her scent enveloped him. She backed away, her eyes alive with wonder. He couldn’t stop looking into them, reading what he hoped was a mutual attraction. After a moment he found his bearings and focused on what needed to be done. His arousal by having her so close to him couldn’t be a good thing. Dr. Branford was not a woman to use lightly.

Nothing had prepared him for being able to touch and interact with April Branford. This was a different time and era. She was a modern woman and he was a much older man. He had nothing to give her but his undying gratitude. He would need to be cautious of his ardor for fear of scaring her away.

April drove him to the outskirts of his normal domain and he thrilled at finally being able to go beyond his usual confines. Kings Mill had spread out from the small village he’d known in his day. Marveling at the sites, they passed the cemetery and drove on past stores larger than his family estate in England. April tried to engage him in conversation but he was mesmerized by everything around him while they drove. He could do nothing but gape.

“I had no idea! This is quite extraordinary!” he managed to say as April drove past each building or object along their way.

He found everything fascinating. His brow furrowed when she turned to stare briefly at him.

“What? For the past two hundred thirty-eight years, I haven’t stepped outside of the confines of Kings Mill.”

April appeared a bit confused. “You mean from the historical district?”

“In my day, the boundaries of the village stopped at the Episcopal Church and its graveyard.”

“But I saw you out at the mill site. How is it possible?”

He shook his head, wondering. “I live there. It’s my home. Though I’m still confused as how you were able to be in my time frame the other day when you showed up.”

“What do you mean?”

He watched as she guided the car behind another at a red signal light. He’d figured out over the years the red light caused people and these unique carriages to stop and the green ones to move forward. Signals were a right bloody good idea, seeing some of these damned horseless contraptions going so fast at times.

“Nothing like it has ever happened before. I’ve been able to move between times somehow but never realized someone else could, too.”

“I think it might have something to do with my gift.”

“Gift?”

April sighed. “I have the ability to touch objects or be in a surrounding of historical importance and somehow connect to the past. It’s referred to as
archeological psychometry
.”

“Is that how you could see me?”

“I’m not sure. The maternal side of my family has the ability to communicate with ghosts.” She paused. “I’ve never had the ability, until now.”

“Perhaps it’s fate. We don’t control our own destiny. If we did, I would never have been murdered by Henry Samuel.”

As they stopped at a red light, April turned away from her task to stare at him briefly. She nibbled on her lower lip and turned back to the road ahead when the light changed to green. The car lurched forward, and he clutched the side of the door as they traveled faster than any horse had taken him.

Within moments they were in a paved field of other automobiles in front of a large building with a grand entrance. He stayed in the seat, still unsure how to work the restraining harness across his body. April walked around to the passenger side and opened his door.

“Are you getting out?”

“I seem to be at a loss as how to unlatch my seat belt.”

She sighed as she reached across his lap again, like she had done to buckle him in, and pushed the small red button to release the silver clip. Their eyes held and James noted the catch in her breathing. She was just as affected by their closeness as he was—which was a good sign. He enjoyed having her stretched across his lap. He would have to remember to feign helplessness more often, if it meant having her in such close proximity.

***

April grabbed a shopping cart and walked into the SuperMart with her colonial dressed man parading behind her in a stupor. It was Halloween, well technically according to her watch it was now the first of November. Still, she could use Halloween to her advantage for at least a few more hours.

She hurried him through the store, taking him by the arm to keep him from stopping and ogling. He was too busy gawking at all the items to be paying attention to where he needed to be. The smattering of early morning shoppers stared at him as he touched and fondled everything he came across. He didn’t seem to find their looks daunting at all. He stopped from time to time, doffing his tricorne and greeting people as they stared at his costume.

“What size do you wear?” April asked as she took in the shelves of jeans.

“Size? I had my clothing tailored to fit.” Shrugging, James went back to touching the material of a half-zippered fleece pullover. “Soft. This would be warm.”

“Do you like it?” Smiling she held up a pair of jeans to his waist, measuring length and width. He took the pants from her hands and examined them.

“These are like the ones you wear.”

“Kind of. They’re called blue jeans. They were created back in the late 1800’s by a man known as Levi Strauss. He made them for the men out in the western states during the gold rush.” She trailed off in her explanation when James studied her with interest as if one of her students settling in for a history lesson. His cocky grin left her feeling flushed. She didn’t want to feel like a history teacher right now. “I’ll explain later. They’re comfortable and modern. They can also be used for casual dress or more semi-formal. I think a pair of jeans or two and a pair of black dress slacks will suffice for now.”

She found a couple of pairs for him to try on in close sizes and pushed him in the direction of the dressing rooms, along with a couple of dress shirts and sport shirts.

He stopped short as he held out the jeans, pointing to the zigzagged enclosure down the middle. “What is this?”

Oops, she forgot. They didn’t have zippers in his day. “It’s a zipper. It’s used as an enclosure for clothing. You pull up on the little copper tab after you put the pants on.” April bit her lip. “Be sure you have everything out of the way first.” She cleared her throat nervously.

She never thought something as mundane as a zipper could make her uncomfortable but thinking of where the zipper would be touching left her fantasizing about the man history had insisted was a ‘ladies man.’ What was it about him boasted the image, other than his dark good looks and charm?

James’s brow quirked but he smiled teasingly as he disappeared into the dressing room.

Yeah, just don’t zip your dick up. I hear its hell bringing it back down. And I’m not going to be the one to do it.

A few minutes later, James modeled the clothing for her.

“How do the jeans feel?”

“It would seem they are a bit uncomfortable if they constantly rub against me. Wouldn’t I break out in a rash?”

Didn’t he wear linen drawers?

“I prefer to be au naturel,” he remarked as if sensing her confusion. “It’s easier for the ladies…”

“Here.” She cut him off, tossing a package of cotton briefs to him. “Try these. I would hate to have you chafe.” And no, she didn’t want to hear why it had been easier for the ladies! The grin on his face told her he was one big tease. Should she expect anything less from
the
James Addison? She tossed a couple more packages of briefs into their shopping cart.

With a full wardrobe of pants and shirts for any occasion, and even a winter coat, James was set for however long he might be staying. They purchased enough toiletries to get him through for a while and went to check out. Anything else, they could figure out and come back later. April realized what time it was and how exhausted she should be.