“What are you laughing at?” she asked, raising one curved black brow as she spoke.
“You, looking for a secret panel. You expecting to find a lion and a witch in there?”
She laughed loudly. “You never know.”
“And then there’s that cobweb in your hair. I only wish I had a camera.”
She ran her hands through her hair, captured the web, then flicked it from her fingers. “Disgusting.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” He leaned down and touched her shoulder. “But I really appreciate you helping me, Nan.”
She smiled. “No problem.”
Then a loud thunk echoed from the chifforobe, and both of them jerked toward the sound.
“You hear that?” she asked.
“Yeah, where’d it come from?”
She leaned back into the elongated area that had held the quilts and blankets. “I think, maybe, in here?” She ran her hands around the interior again, but shook her head as she apparently found nothing different.
Dax had surveyed all of the drawers except the bottom one. He pulled on it, and it stuck. He yanked on the drawer again, and this time it came free.
Nanette leaned over him, and her shadow made it impossible for him to see inside, so he slid his hand against the bottom to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before. He didn’t anticipate finding anything, though, since he distinctly remembered doing the same thing when he’d originally found the letters.
However, as he reached toward the back of the deep drawer, he realized that it felt different; the back wasn’t wooden like the rest of the drawer’s interior. No, this was some kind of fabric covering, and Dax was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before.
“Hold on, I’ve got something,” he said, moving his hand over the fabric until he found its edge. He realized that this wasn’t merely cloth covering the back of the drawer; it was something lying flush against it. He maneuvered his fingers into the tiny crack between the fabric edge and the wooden side, and then pulled it to remove…a book.
Nan backed up to let the limited light hit the object, and the two of them stared at the tattered book in Dax’s hands. The outer covering was a rose-colored cloth, and in the center, embroidered in swirling script and oddly similar to their grandmother’s handwriting, were three words.
Until You Return.
Dax opened the book, tilted it to catch the light and read aloud, “‘May 1, 1863. My darling John-Paul, keeping the Vicknair secrets about the beloved spirits is a duty I willingly chose upon becoming your wife. However, I never knew that I would also have to keep your visits a secret. For two years I dreamed of being with you again as a wife needs to be with her husband, and for the past two weeks I have been, nearly every night. This house has been so lonely with you at war, and my soul is waning from the many soldier spirits I am called to help find the light. Being with you that way again makes it bearable. I only wish we knew how you get through, and how we could lengthen your stays. I miss you so when you’re gone, John-Paul.’”
“John-Paul,” Nanette repeated. “That’s her husband, and in 1863, he’d have still been fighting in the war.”
“But he was visiting her. Or rather, his spirit was visiting,” Dax said, his blood pumping fiercely. “This is it, Nan.” He squinted to see the writing, faint on the weathered page, and moved it toward the light. “Damn, I can barely see the rest of this.”
“Come on, let’s take it downstairs to a better light.” Nan crossed the room and quickly descended the ladder, and Dax followed.
“In here,” he said when they neared the second-floor sitting room.
The two of them entered the room, but instead of finding the place vacant, they found Ryan and Monique, huddled together on the settee, staring at the tea service.
“Ryan’s waiting on his first ghost!” Monique exclaimed. “He came home from work and said that he’d been hearing hammers and saws all day long, but not the ones that were surrounding him at his roofing job. That’s when it hit me. Now that we’re married, he’ll start getting ghosts too.” She squeezed her husband and smiled broadly. “And I wanted to be with him when he gets the first one.”
“Hammers and saws?” Nan asked.
“I’m assuming he may get spirits who are injured in construction accidents, or something like that, don’t you think? That would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Monique asked.
“I guess it would,” Nan said.
“Who’d have thought-a few months ago, I was the ghost needing help, and now I’m going to be the one on the other end?” Ryan kissed Monique softly.
“Hey, what have you got?” Monique asked, leaning forward to steal a peek at the book in Dax’s hand.
“Maybe a way to get Celeste back,” Nanette said.
And at Monique’s shocked expression, Dax added, “I’ll tell you about it later, sis. Right now, I have to read this. Good luck with your first assignment, Ryan.”
“Thanks.”
Nanette and Dax turned and started down the stairs.
“Ryan’s a medium now,” she whispered. “I hadn’t even realized…”
“That our spouses will become mediums by marriage?” Dax questioned. “Neither did I. I mean, I never thought about it, but our parents were all mediums. And obviously-” he held up the book “-Clara Vicknair was a medium by marriage.”
“I know. I just hadn’t thought about it in terms of my future husband being a medium, but it does make sense.” When they reached the foyer, she went straight to the front door and opened it. “The porch. It’ll be quiet out here, and the lighting outside will help us see the writing better.”
Dax followed her, then dropped into a rocker and flipped the book open, while Nanette scooted another rocker near enough to see.
They scanned the next few pages and learned that John-Paul had visited Clara yet again two days later, then again three days after that. Through all of the daily entries, Clara discussed the war, and particularly the raid she’d heard about, a raid on Vicksburg.
“How sad,” Nanette whispered.
“What?”
“That so many lives were lost then. Read this one.” She pointed to the opposite page from the one Dax was scanning, and he turned his attention to the curling script.
“‘My darling John-Paul, I had twelve more ghosts from the Vicksburg raid, some Confederate, some Union, and all of them needing help through. Most wanted to see their newborn babes before they crossed. Oh, to conceive from our visits now, but I know that isn’t possible. Even so, when you come back, I’ll give you a child, a baby, with hair dark and wavy like yours, and definitely with your vivid green eyes, and perhaps my smile.’”
“Twelve soldiers in one day,” Nanette said, emotion filling her tone. “Bless their hearts, and bless her heart for helping them.”
Dax nodded, and flipped through the pages, passing several days where the entries were virtually the same-Clara helping several ghosts, and John-Paul visiting as often as he could to be with his wife. But she continually mentioned that her husband never knew when he was coming, or how long he could stay.
Just like Celeste.
“Do you think they ever figured out how he visited? Or-was he dead?” he asked, then said, “But that wouldn’t be possible, would it? I mean, the Vicknair line didn’t stop with him, so they had to have had a child together.”
“Not necessarily,” Nan corrected. “There were several Vicknair brothers who fought for the Confederates, though he was probably the only one whose wife stayed here during the war. All of the records I found said that most women returned to their parents’ homes when their husbands left for the war. I’m guessing Clara stayed behind to help the spirits, or she’d have done the same. Anyway, one of the others could have had children.”