Whispers from the Past

Whispers
from the
Past

B
OOK
T
HREE IN THE
W
HISPER
F
ALLS
S
ERIES

E
LIZABETH
L
ANGSTON

S
PENCER
H
ILL
P
RESS

Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Langston

Sale of the paperback edition of this book without its cover is unauthorized.

Spencer Hill Press

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Contact: Spencer Hill Press, PO Box 247, Contoocook, NH 03229, USA

Please visit our website at
www.spencerhillpress.com

First Edition: October 2014.
Elizabeth Langston
Whispers From the Past : a novel / by Elizabeth Langston – 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary:
A modern-day teen boy looks forward to college and career while his girlfriend, a refugee from the 18th century, longs to understand what happened to the loved ones she left behind.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction: Advanced Placement, Culinary Institute of America, Dirty Dancing, Durham Bulls, ESPN, Ford, GED, Google, iPad, Mercedes, NCAA, Propel, Skype, Washington Nationals, Wikipedia, X-Men

Cover design by Lisa Amowitz
Interior layout by Marie Romero

ISBN 978-1-939392-22-0 (e-book)
ISBN 978-1-939392-22-0 (e-book)

Printed in the United States of America

To Amy, Julianna, and Rick—my reasons for being

A
LSO
B
Y
E
LIZABETH
L
ANGSTON

The
Whisper Falls
Series
(Spencer Hill Press)
Whisper Falls
A Whisper in Time
A Whispers from the Past

The
I Wish
Series
(Spencer Hill Press)
I Wish

C
HAPTER
O
NE

A
N
I
NCLINATION FOR
F
RIENDSHIP

When Mark explained the holiday known as Valentine’s, I thought he must be joking. Why should a young man shower his beloved with gifts in order to prove his devotion? It made no sense to me that a box of chocolates could convey tender feelings more profoundly than the delight of an everyday kiss.

I assured Mark that I felt no need to celebrate Valentine’s Day, but he insisted we should do so anyway.

That morning’s mail brought a beautiful card, handmade by Mark of cream paper, trimmed in gold, with simple words that professed his love. At midday, there was a knock at the door of the apartment I shared with his sister. When Marissa answered it, a delivery man handed her a bouquet of flowers, heavenly scented and in a riot of colors. They were addressed to me.

Perhaps I did not
need
to celebrate, but Mark was enchanting me just the same.

Naturally, I wanted to please him too. In the two weeks since I’d moved in with Marissa, Mark had found it difficult to adjust to my absence. When he came home from school today, I would be there waiting for him. It would give us two extra hours to be together before leaving on our official date.

The choice of what to wear concerned me. I preferred long skirts, but they were not logical for a trip on a bike. I had two pairs of pants, yet neither was suitable for this evening’s date. The best solution was a blue dress that Mark’s grandmother had made for me. I could pedal in it well enough, for the hem stopped at the knee. I would don boots and stockings, required not only for modesty but also for warmth against the cold of February.

After wrapping myself in a woolen cloak and attaching a small backpack to my cherry-red bike, I left for Mark’s home.

The ride was pleasant. He’d mapped a safe route that wound through neighborhoods. It would be quicker to cut through Umstead Park, but I wasn’t ready for that yet.

When I arrived, his house appeared deserted. I peered through a window into the three-car garage and saw only Mark’s truck. Even though I knew the security code to go inside, it did not seem right to enter without one of the Lewises. It was no longer my home.

Truly, it had never been.

After locking my bike and detaching my backpack, I settled on the veranda’s loveseat. The wait wouldn’t be long.

A bike whistled down the street. Mark rolled smoothly onto the driveway and braked. After removing his helmet, he drew his phone from his pocket and tapped. A garage door whined open.

“Mark?” I called.

His head whipped around, a smile breaking through. “Just a sec,” he said, disappearing into the garage.

I loved that smile. I never saw it for anyone else. Sweet and sensual at the same time.

He jogged out a moment later, bounded up the veranda steps, and then leaned over me, his mouth swooping down with unerring grace to lock on mine in a hard, seeking kiss.

Straightening, he kept his warm gaze on my face. “You haven’t complained that the neighbors might be watching.”

“Indeed, but I was thinking it.”

He laughed. “So, why are you here? I would’ve picked you up later.”

“I did not wish to wait.” I cupped his roughened cheek. “Thank you for everything.”

“We’re not done yet.” He pulled me up beside him, his fingers firmly linked through mine. “Let’s go in.”

Once we were inside, Mark dropped his backpack onto the foyer floor and then reached for mine. His nose twitched. “Do I smell Sweet Dreams cookies?”

I smiled smugly. “Perhaps I made a batch for you.”

With a happy sigh, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me again. When he drew back, there was an anxious crease to his brow. “Jesse and Benita want to join us for dessert tonight. Do you mind?”

“That would be lovely.” I did not mind sharing Mark with his friends for a brief time.

“Great. We have a couple of hours before we need to leave for dinner. What did you want to do?”

“Just be with you.”

“I like that plan,” he said, smiling with relief. “Is it okay if I study?”

“It is, indeed.”

A second garage door rumbled up. I would’ve backed away if only his hands were not so firmly on my hips. “Your mother is here.”

“Yeah, I heard.” With a sigh, he kept a gentle hand at the small of my back and walked beside me to the kitchen. Once there, he headed to the fridge.

“Mark,” his mother called as she stepped into the laundry room, her nurse’s clogs slapping on the stone floor. “When are you…? Oh, hi, Susanna.”

“Hello, Sherri.”

She pulled me into a hug. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”

Mark’s gaze met mine over her shoulder, his lips curling in a half-smile.

I gave her an awkward pat and tried not to ponder the irony that I was more at ease in a public embrace with his mother than with him. “I wanted to surprise Mark.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” She turned to her son. “Do you have homework?”

He closed the fridge with his hip, holding two bottles of water. “Yes. That’s next on the agenda.”

“Good,” she said before moving briskly past him to head up the back stairs.

He waited until she’d disappeared from view. “It’s time for a study date in the family room.”

“Can you be successful with me reading beside you?”

“As long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

I laughed. “Truly? I must only restrict my hands?”

“What else were you thinking?”

Rising on my toes, I pressed my mouth to his.

“Feels pretty successful to me,” he murmured against my lips.

We dined at a restaurant called Carolina Ale House. It was a bit noisy inside, but the food was delicious. I enjoyed a burger while Mark had steak.

As the waiter cleared our table, I watched other waitstaff throughout the dining area carry dirty dishes away from other tables. Some of the plates held more food than I would’ve eaten for a day in my previous life. It made me restless to see so much discarded.

“Hey, babe,” Mark said.

I shook off my reverie and turned to him. “Yes?”

“I have one more gift for you.” He handed me a small, thin box wrapped in pink paper.

With careful hands, I ripped the package open and gasped. “A phone?”

He nodded. “Shouting your name doesn’t work anymore.”

“Shouting never worked.”

“True.” He laughed. “I’ve programmed in the phone numbers of every member of my family, plus all of our friends.”

I set it on the tabletop, overwhelmed by his generosity this day. “You will teach me how to use it.”

“Sure.” He skimmed his fingers over its surface. “Let’s try photos first.” When I shifted closer to him, he held the phone out as far as he could and snapped a picture of us. A few taps of the phone later, our photo appeared on the screen. “I’ve put our picture as your background.” He slid it back to me. “You don’t have to keep it that way, if you don’t want to.”

“I love this photo. I love all of your gifts.” I smiled into his eyes. “I love you.”

“Hey, guys,” Benita said from the other side of the table. “Do you need us to give you a moment? Things are looking pretty hot over there.”

Mark’s gaze tore away from mine. “No, join us.”

I gave Benita and Jesse a welcoming nod and studied them with curious eyes. We had gone on dates with them often enough that I had grown accustomed to the extravagance of Benita’s style, but tonight she looked especially beautiful. Her golden hair was secured in a loose knot by two sticks of polished wood. She wore a short skirt of chocolate brown, a gold corset under a denim jacket, and red lace gloves. It might have looked unplanned at first glance, but I knew better, for the fabrics were expensive and the fit perfect.

Beside her waited Jesse, a head shorter, his confident smile revealing white teeth in his dark, handsome face. Each time I saw him, I knew a quiver of surprise. Mark and I had a black friend. Benita had a black boyfriend. It was common enough in this century. It would never have been true in the century of my childhood. I would’ve been thrashed had I shown an inclination for friendship toward the Negro slaves on the farm where I was indentured.

Jesse and Benita slid into the circular booth until she and I were nearly touching. After we ordered dessert, she turned to me. “So, Susanna, how’s the job search?”

“Fine.” My lack of success ought to have discouraged me, but I wouldn’t permit it. Just yesterday, I had found a new set of want ads for nearby restaurants that did not require a diploma or high-school equivalency. The positions might only pay minimum wage, but that was a beginning. “I remain hopeful.”

Mark snorted softly.

Ignoring him, Benita asked, “Do you like living with Marissa?”

Beside me, Mark stiffened. I wished that Benita hadn’t asked. He and I had avoided this topic all evening, not wanting to ruin our date. “It has gone well.”

She leaned on the table to smile at Mark. “How do
you
like it?”

He made a growling sound in his throat. “Not at all.”

C
HAPTER
T
WO

V
IGILANT
B
OYFRIEND
R
OUTINE

Susanna stared out across the restaurant, not meeting my gaze, as Benita boldly raised the issue that neither of us wanted to discuss.

“I think it’s a good thing, Mark.” Benita kept her piercing eyes on me.

“Goddess mine,” Jesse said, his mouth kissing a trail down his girlfriend’s neck to her shoulder, “let’s talk about something else.”

She laughed and relaxed into him.

Thank you, Jesse
. I took a couple of slow breaths and tried to shake off my irritation.

On the opposite side of the booth, Jesse and Benita were getting into their PDA. As it became noisier, Susanna’s cheeks flushed red, an unhappy twist to her lips. Under the table, I linked our hands and sighed with relief when her fingers closed around mine.

“Look at me, babe,” I whispered.

She turned to me, her blush deepening. “Do you wish we had that kind of relationship?”

Wow. Was that what was making her so unhappy—that they felt comfortable being exhibitionists and she didn’t? Sometimes, my body did wonder what was taking her so long to relax, but then my head regained control. I could wait as long as it took. “I have
you
, Susanna. Give me what you can, and don’t worry about the rest.”