Authors: Lisa Rayns
No dying young for me.
When a red Ford pickup truck bounced down the driveway and pulled in behind Hecate, I got out to meet my first visitor. The young man walked toward me, jingling molded metal in his hands. He was tall with a tan darker than I’d ever seen, and his brown hair shined. Besides his blue jeans, large belt buckle, and western style shirt, all he needed was a hat to complete his cowboy image, but his lean muscular build reminded me more of an athlete. A quarterback, perhaps.
I knew first impressions weren’t fair, but I imagined how he must have seen me. Ragged, comfortable jeans and a black tee shirt, three sizes too large with bright pink lettering that read:
Dream Big
. I felt pale and short next to him, and my black hair hung down around my shoulders in clumps from the two days of travel.
“Hi,” he said quickly, a wide smile forming below his bright blue eyes. “You must be Elizabeth Tarkson?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Lucky.” He shrugged a little to the left.
I glanced over at the house. “How long has it been since anyone’s lived here? It looks like it’s been abandoned.”
“Ten years,” he stated confidently, dropping the keys into my hand. “People think it’s haunted. Anyway, my dad wanted me to drop off the keys and let you know that he had the utilities hooked up and a stove and refrigerator put in yesterday. They’re old ones he picked up at a garage sale, but they work good. He likes to wait with things until the last minute unless there’s beer involved. I saw you pull in from our house up the road there.”
I didn’t turn to where he pointed, nor did I hold back my surprise when I stumbled through the only word I’d hung onto. “Hhh... Haunted? The realtor didn’t mention haunted. Don’t they have to tell you that?”
“Naw,” he said, laughing at me. “I was just teasing about that. There’s been some talk, but the truth is, my dad just didn’t want to put it on the market ‘til this year. He was saving it for me. Hopin’ I’d move in and start a family so I could stay on and help with the farm and all.”
I took a breath, deciding to ignore the whole haunted idea for now. “You didn’t want it?”
“No way. I can’t wait to get out of here and away from the farm. I’m starting college this fall.”
“I understand that feeling. What are you going to study?”
“Hell, I don’t know. As long as I get to play football, it doesn’t really matter what kind of degree it comes with.”
“Let me guess, quarterback?”
His smile widened. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Lucky,” I said, mocking his earlier shrug.
He laughed boyishly. “Listen, I’m going to be around all summer yet, so if you need some help fixing up the place, why don’t ya give me a call. I’d love an excuse to get out of doing chores, and bein’ neighborly can get me out of more work than you can imagine.”
“Thank you,” I said, glancing at the house. “I just might take you up on that...”
“Tommy, Tommy Block,” he said, giving my hand a firm shake. “Sorry about that. I thought I introduced myself already.”
“It’s nice to meet you Tommy Block, and thanks for bringing the keys over.”
He nodded uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot before he swiped his fingers through his thick hair. He seemed to be contemplating if he should leave or stay. “Do you want me to show you around or anything? I can show you where the fuse box is and stuff.”
A shadow fell over the yard, and I looked up in time to see the sun swallowed up by large billowy clouds that darkened before my eyes. In that same instant, I felt eyes on me and turned toward the house to see a dark curtain in the attic window swaying in the breeze. For some stupid reason, my only bodily response was a growling stomach, and my mind swept to the food in the car.
“Maybe some other time, but thanks. Was it supposed to rain today?”
He shrugged. “That don’t mean nothing around here. Do you want some help?”
The sky rumbled, warning me that I needed to move quickly to avoid the downpour. “No thanks. I got it.”
“Okay, my numbers in the book. It was sure nice meeting you, Elizabeth.”
I gave a friendly wave and then ducked down into the back seat to grab the milk and frozen dinners. When I bounded to the front door, I tried the key but found the door unlocked.
A long, hollow creak greeted me as I pushed open the door. The refrigerator, yellowed with dark rust stains, hummed from the room to the right. I put the groceries inside, grateful the interior was cold. The water in the sink spat out a brown, nasty grime for the first few minutes, but I let it run, and it soon cleared. The cupboards didn’t look like they would hold under the weight of even one dish, but I grinned, imagining their potential.
Every room on the first floor was empty and recently swept, one kitchen, one living room with a fireplace, one bathroom and three bedrooms. The dingy brown walls needed some patching and paint, but the house had character with dark matching woodwork and real hard wood floors throughout. An open staircase with a dark oak railing ran up to the second floor where I found three more empty rooms and the door that led to the top floor of the house. The partially furnished attic had an ancient rug and old books lying around on the floor without a home. Thankfully, there was a bed.
“Perfect. I’ll have a place to sleep tonight.”
After collecting my cleaning supplies and rags from the car, I scrubbed the floor in the kitchen until my hands were raw and my back ached. I didn’t mind the hard work, but the day faded fast, and my progress left me feeling a little discouraged. I stood up to stretch and yawn.
“How do you like the house?”
My heart jumped into my throat. The echo in my head made me spin around in circles, trying to figure out where the voice came from.
“Draven?” I knew his dreamy voice anywhere––strong, distinct, with only the hint of a foreign accent. I ran from room to room searching for him but found no one. Shaking my head, I went back to cleaning. Even though I’d planned to call it a night, the sense of him being nearby kept me alert and hopeful, making sleep the last thing on my mind.
“How do you like the house?”
Instead of jumping up and running around like a fool, I decided to answer him. “I love it. I just wish it was clean and fixed up.”
I heard him chuckle.
“Are you watching me?”
After an hour, it became completely obvious that I’d lost my mind. My loneliness had me talking to a man who might as well have been a ghost. I sighed and resigned to bed.
The air in the attic smelled fresh. The only small window was propped open with an old book,
Wuthering Heights
. I knew
Emily Bronte wouldn’t approve but I couldn’t bear to close off the circulation. I left it and shook out the bedding, filling the room with a strong musty scent. It would do for the night.
I slept surprisingly well but when I awoke
my sleepy eyes played tricks on me.
Every floor in the house
looked spotless and clean. I jumped into the shower, expecting the warm water to wake me enough to see reality. I remembered too late that my clothes and towels were still in the car.
Standing naked in the entryway, I considered my options as Hecate stared at me from four yards away. On one hand, I
was
in the middle of nowhere with trees surrounding me. On the other hand, I’d be humiliated for life, not to mention the names I’d make for myself if someone happened to pull into my driveway and catch me streaking. It seemed like an adventurous and fun thing to do but I’d spent my whole life playing it safe. I wasn’t sure I had the nerve.
Screw it!
It started sprinkling when I ran for the car at full speed and hit the button in the glove box. As I collected my bag out of the trunk, the feeling of eyes on me pulled my gaze to the attic window. Draven smiled down at me. My body flushed with heat before that heat turned into a tingling delight. After a blink, I saw nothing but an empty window.
“Draven.” His name fell from my lips in a whisper.
Another quick, chilled breeze sent me running into the house. I dried off, dressed, and when I stepped out of the bathroom, my eyes were wide with anticipation. The telltale steps creaked unnervingly under my weight as I slowly ascended the stairs, wishing and hoping he was there.
One thought kept me from throwing open the door when I reached it. What if he was a ghost? He appeared and disappeared faster than humanly possible. He’d followed me from Portland without a car. Maybe he’d been invisible and riding in my car the whole time! He did admit to being immortal, sort of. Maybe he’d found a way to make himself appear to the living only when he wanted to. But did I really want to know if he was a ghost? If I could never be with him, if he wasn’t real…could I bear it? My confidence stammered as I extended my hand to grasp the handle, finding it unnaturally cold.
“Please don’t be a ghost,” I whispered, turning the
knob to rush up the stairs.
I found no one in the room, but another jewelry box lay on the bed.
“Damn it, Draven Blackrayne! You show your face right now!”
To my immense surprise, he did! The attic door whined opened, and he walked up the stairs, smiling casually at me in a crisp blue dress shirt and jeans. When he reached the foot of the bed, he crossed his hands at his waist. He was breathtaking.
“Yes, Elizabeth?” he asked, completely at ease, completely comfortable, completely sexy.
I wanted to demand the answers that would prove I wasn’t crazy but the look on his face stalled me. “I…I…the gift…I can’t take it.”
“All right,” he agreed.
“Really?”
“But may I ask a favor?”
“What?” I asked, still staring in awe.
“Take me out.”
“What?”
“Take me shopping. You have no furniture.”
“You want to go shopping…for furniture…right now?”
“Oh, immediately.”
“But it’s raining.”
“Perfect weather.”
“On one condition.”
“What?”
“A kiss.” I watched the smile fall completely off his face. “I have to touch to you, Draven.”
His serious demeanor softened before he responded, looking straight into my eyes. “The reason I haven’t kissed you is not because I haven’t wanted to.”
“Oh my God!” My hands went up to my mouth, and I shook my head. My voice was small but I forced the words out, “Please, tell me you’re not a ghost!
Please!
Don’t be a ghost!”
He laughed. “I’m not ghost, but I do have a…condition.”
“Oh, thank God!” I let my hands fall from my face and walked toward him.
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“I don’t care,” I said, shaking my head.
Finally, he smiled. “Hold my hand first, and if you still want me to kiss you, I will.”
I reached out and took his hand, my lips curling upward with the glorious truth that he was real. “Cold hands? That’s hardly a condition worth...”
I let my words trail off when he leaned in, closing the gap between us and pressed his lips onto mine. They were chilled but I hardly noticed when his mouth opened and his tongue met mine ever so lightly. What I did notice was the swarm of butterflies in my stomach. They spun in circles, warming my entire body.
He pulled away to look at me. “Are you frightened? Was that okay?”
“No. I’m not frightened,” I insisted. “You better try again.”
He pushed back into me, more aggressively, letting his fingers graze my cheek. I touched him too, his face, his hair, his chest, and eventually I locked my arms around him, feeling dizzy.
“We have to go,” he said, giving me one last kiss.
Still light-headed, I let him go. “I like it when you say we.”
He laughed. “
We
need to go.”
He held my hand in the car and while we shopped, making it hard for me to pay attention to anything else. It meant our relationship was moving forward. I could feel him now and didn’t want to let him go. We walked through three different stores, electronics, appliances, and furniture. He asked me what I liked, and I pointed things out, enjoying the idea that we were planning for the future. Even a short future with him seemed beyond my greatest expectations. I flinched when he released my hand to go question the salesperson, but he touched my cheek softly as if he felt my apprehension. “I promise I’ll be right back.”
I sat down on a leather sofa I’d chosen, and when he returned, I pulled him down beside me. “So we’re really spending the whole day together?”
“Yes.”
“Is it someday yet?”