Moonlight Dancer (11 page)

They went down the steps hand in hand and stood for a moment as dusk descended. “I love this land” he said quietly. “It’s as simple as that.” He handed her up onto the ATV. “Is that so hard to understand?”

“Not at all.” Charlie wished that he would kiss her again. “It’s people like you and your brother who carry on the traditions of the family farm.”

“Thank you” he said simply. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t care.” He got on the ATV and started the motor.

I care, thought Charlie, tightening her grip around his abdomen. Maybe too much.

The farmhouse was dark when they got back. Thankfully Janelle had left the outside light on.

“So, are we still on for Saturday night?” Jason took her hand and helped her down.

She nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” He released her hand and stepped back. “See you around, Scarlett.” He jumped on the ATV and took off.

Silence settled over the yard and Charlie settled into a chair on the verandah, not ready to go inside quite yet. Thomas poked his head through the cat door, walked to her chair and leaped up. When she didn’t pay immediate attention to him he butted her softly with the top of his head.

“Hello, boy” she said, scratching him behind the ears. “I’d tell you about my day, but I don’t know where to start.” Thomas blinked and Charlie took that as a request to continue.

“I met a ghost this morning.” An image of dark eyes and a handsome face floated before her and she stopped scratching. The cat butted her again. “I know it sounds outrageous, but it’s true.” She stroked the soft fur. “Then my dancing instructor arrived and the ghost disappeared.” Her hand stilled. “Is it possible that I’m imagining all this?” Her thoughts drifted off and Thomas jumped down in disgust.

“No” she said into the quiet night. “You’re right. It was real.” She chuckled at her words. “Or at least as real as a ghost can be.”

“You missed Jason this morning.” Janelle was hunched over her drawing board in what had once been the living room of the farmhouse. Flooded with light, it now made the perfect studio. She reached for her coffee mug and seemed surprised to find it empty.

“Here, I’ll get you a refill.” Charlie took the mug and looked over her aunt’s shoulder at the sketches. “Is this the proposal for the architects?”

Janelle fingered her braid. By now, Charlie recognized that her aunt played with her hair when nervous or indecisive. “Yes, and I’m not sure if I’m on the right track.”

“Maybe you should step back from it.” Charlie refilled her aunt’s mug and brought it back to her. “That’s what they told us in a writing course I took.”

“Good advice.” Janelle sipped the coffee and continued to assess her sketch.

“So did Jason say anything?”

Janelle whirled around. “Oh. Sorry. Yes, I told him that you were going to The Trip this morning and he offered to pick you up.” She glanced over at the grandfather clock. “I told him around two.”

* * *

Tyler pulled into the parking lot as Charlie was opening the side door. “Ready for another lesson?” he called, taking the steps two at a time. “I have a feeling we’re going to make great progress today.”

He was right. By the end of the session, she was following him with ease; she felt as though she’d been dancing forever.

“What do you think?” He removed the CD and slipped it into the case. “Want to try something faster?”

Charlie took a few steps around the floor, giddy with the progress they’d made. “Would it be okay if we did that on another day? I’d like to practice this for a while.”

“Sure. Any day you like. I’m on night shift for another week, so I’m free in the daytime.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Tomorrow’s perfect.” He gestured toward the broom, propped against the booth where Charlie had left it yesterday. “I’ll leave you to get on with your cleaning. See you tomorrow.” He paused to give her a thumbs up from the doorway and then was gone.

Charlie drifted across the floor and bowed to the broom. “May I have this dance please?” she said with a self-conscious laugh. She didn’t care. She was learning to dance and Saturday night she had a date with Jason. Humming to herself, she danced around the central pole of the carousel and paused by the CD player. Nothing like some music to accompany work. She chose a medley of love songs and with a reluctant sigh continued sweeping where she’d left off yesterday.

“Hello again.” She stilled. Could it possibly be him again? Holding the broom in one hand she turned slowly. He was there all right, a tentative smile on his lips. “I was hoping to see you here today.”

She studied him openly. It was easy to see why Charlotte had fallen in love with this man. He was confidently masculine, and yet the vulnerability in his eyes showed how deeply he’d loved her namesake.

“I was wondering if I’d imagined you,” she said finally. “It’s not every day a person talks to a ghost, you know.”

He nodded. “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Nobody has ever been able to see me before.” He looked at her curiously. “You’re the only one.” The light caught the gold flecks in his eyes. “Do you mind?”

Charlie considered the question. “I guess not.” She leaned the broom against one of the booths, thoughts of cleaning gone from her head. “Why me, though? What’s going on? Do you have any idea?”

“I think you’re supposed to help me.”

She looked up sharply “Help you? How?”

He spoke cautiously, as though afraid his words would frighten her off. “I suppose you know that Charlotte and I were to meet here on the evening of the full moon?”

“Yes, I know.” Charlie grinned. “Romantic and practical at the same time.”

He nodded. “And did you hear that she continued to come here every time there was a full moon?” His jaw tightened. “Until she died?”

“Yes.” Charlie could feel his pain.

“Well, she’s still coming.” The dark eyes assessed her reaction.

“Here? To the dance hall?” Charlie looked around as though her ancestor might appear. “Now that’s spooky.”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “Spookier than talking to a ghost? ‘Cause that’s what you’re doing right now.”

“Yeah, but…” Charlie clamped her mouth shut. He was right. “Wait a minute. You say she’s still coming here. Does that mean you can see her?”

A cloud of pain passed in front of his eyes and he nodded his head. “That’s the hard part. I can see her, but she can’t see me. This happens every time there’s a full moon.”

“This is crazy.”

“I agree. The two of us are caught up in this impossible situation.”

“Listen. I don’t mean to sound like I don’t care, but why don’t you just leave?” She waved a hand in the air. “Go away. Wherever it is you’re supposed to go.”

His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. “I couldn’t do that. We promised to meet here no matter what, and I won’t break my promise.” He twisted a gold ring on his left hand. “I loved her with all my heart” he murmured softly, “and I’m hoping that you can help us somehow. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to see her here, looking for me, waiting for me? And I can’t reach her. If only we could see each other, I’m sure we could leave.” He looked around sadly. “This was where we fell in love and you’re right, it’s time to move on. But we have to do that together.”

Charlie’s gaze fell on the gold ring. Was he married? She had a sudden urge to protect Charlotte. “What is that? It looks like a wedding ring.”

He looked down at the ring. “It would have been. We both had them. She wore hers on a chain around her neck so her parents wouldn’t see it. They were our link to each other while I was away working.

Charlie wondered if Charlotte’s ring was tucked away in one of the trunks. But what if it was? How could it make a difference? “I just don’t know how I could help,” she said, almost to herself. “I wish I could think of something.”

A wave of desolation crashed over her, a sure sign that Charlotte was with her. “I’ll try to come up with something” she promised, and the sensation eased. “I can do that much, at least.” What had she just agreed to? She had no idea, but she had to try. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The figure nodded and turned away. “Wait,” she called. “What’s your name? I should know that much, at least.”

He turned back. “Harmon Rogers. My friends call me Harm.”

“And what did Charlotte call you? Or is that too personal?”

“She called me Sweetheart.” His eyes glowed with love and Charlie ached for him. He took a step back toward the door, a stark silhouette against the light.

“They call me Charlie.”

“Charlie” he repeated, and a faint smile touched his lips. “Suits you,” he said, and disappeared through the door.

Charlie gazed after him for a moment and then picked up the broom. “What have I gotten myself into?” she asked aloud. “Why did I promise to try to help?” The lovely, haunted eyes of Charlotte hovered before her, and the answer was clear. Although remote, her kinship with the determined young woman was more than just hereditary. Charlotte had been trying to contact her; she knew that now. The first sign had been the teapot filled with lavender and then the teapot had been moved to the trunk, prompting her to explore inside. Charlotte was trying to lead her to the answer but Charlie couldn’t quite make the connection…at least not yet. She had to try. For Harm as well as for Charlotte.

She straightened up and looked around, surprised to find that she’d finished the sweeping. Jason would be here any minute. Lost in thought, she put away the broom and turned to find him standing in the doorway.

“Jason, I’m so glad you’re here” she said breathlessly. “It’s been quite a day.”

“Is that good?” He took a step forward.

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know. I’m so mixed up. Would you just take me home?”

“Sure.” He stood by silently while she locked up. “Is it something I did?”

“What? Oh, no.” She laid a hand on his arm. It was solid, comforting. “It’s nothing like that.”

He held the door of the pickup while she climbed in, following her every movement. Charlie tried to smile, but it wasn’t very convincing. She stared out the window, barely noticing the row of grain elevators reaching up into the summer sky. In her mind, she was back at the dance hall.

She wasn’t bothered by the fact that she’d been talking to a ghost. What bothered her was that she’d foolishly agreed to help in a situation that was clearly going nowhere. She stifled a groan of frustration. Okay, so she could sense Charlotte’s emotions, that much was true. But that didn’t mean she could bring the lovers back together after so many years. What had she been thinking?

With a deep sigh she turned her attention to Jason, who was sending worried glances her way. “Sorry” she said. “I was somewhere else.”

“No kidding.”

She leaned back against the car door and studied his profile. He was one of the most appealing men she’d ever known and there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted to get to know him better. But if she told him what had happened, how would he react? There was only one way to find out.

“Do you remember how I told you I can sense people around me?”

He nodded slowly.

“And do you remember at the dance it was as if I became someone else?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I remember.”

“I know who it is.” It was a relief to share it with him and the words spilled out. “It’s my great great aunt Charlotte. She used to live in the farmhouse and she died of a broken heart.”