Monique twisted in Ryan’s lap. “Honey, do you remember anything from being in the middle that would help Dax figure out what’s causing her to be so different from all our other spirits?”
Again, Ryan shook his head. “If I did, I’d tell you.”
“Anything else out of the ordinary with her?” she asked. “Something that might help us figure out why she’s stuck in the middle? Other than the sleeping and the clothing, was there anything else different from other ghosts? Did she glow like our regular spirits?”
Dax started to nod, but then he thought about Celeste and Prissy, standing side by side in the sitting room. The little girl’s body had been cloaked in a brilliant, golden glow, so bright that Dax had nearly had to squint to look at her. But Celeste’s appearance hadn’t been nearly as bright.
“No,” he said. “No, she didn’t. Her body was illuminated, but it wasn’t as vivid as the younger spirit’s. But-”
“But?” Monique prompted.
“But when she got tired, and then again, right before she left, her body glowed brighter, not quite as bright as my usual spirits, but it was more gold than white.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “I don’t know about the other things that are different, but that one does have a reasonable answer, based on what I remember about the middle.”
“What is it?” Dax asked.
“When I saw other spirits getting closer to the light, they always glowed brighter. I assumed that the closer a spirit was to crossing, the brighter their essence became.”
Dax closed his eyes and pictured Celeste, getting brighter and brighter, right until she left. That did make sense, and he knew why he hadn’t thought of it on his own. Subconsciously, he hadn’t wanted to face the fact that touching him, kissing him, might have made it harder for her to fight the pull of the light. What if being with him today had forced her to cross? “Damn.”
“Hey, man, I’m not saying she crossed over. I’m merely saying that when ghosts glow brighter, that usually means that they’re closer to the other side. She could still be in the middle. I fought crossing, remember? And if she wants to be with you the way I wanted to be with Monique, she’s fighting it too.”
Dax swallowed, nodded. Celeste would fight it; he had no doubt. But she’d been weak today. “Thanks,” he said, standing. He needed to go back to the plantation and think, try to put the pieces together and figure out where Celeste was, and how to help her get where she needed to be-on this side, with him.
“I’m not sure why you’re thanking us. I don’t think we were all that much help.” Tristan finished off his soda then tossed the can in the trash.
“Talking through things always helps,” Dax said, knowing that they had, in fact, given him more to think about. Celeste was getting pulled toward the light, and he didn’t want to give the other side the advantage by making her weaker. But he did want her here, and to feel her body, her mouth, her everything against him again. “I’m going home.”
Then he remembered the boxes in Ryan’s truck. “Hell, I’m being a louse. I’ll help you finish unloading first.”
Tristan smirked. “We’re finished, and I was blowing off steam anyway. It wasn’t that much stuff, and I didn’t mind helping. I just like to complain.”
“Now, that’s the truth,” Monique said. “I haven’t given you a haircut yet that you didn’t find something wrong with.”
“Watch it,” Tristan warned, “or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
“As if you could find someone else to cut it for free.” Climbing out of Ryan’s lap, she took Dax’s arm and led him down the hall to the front of the house. When the two of them were out of earshot of Ryan and Tristan, she lowered her voice and asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Just got to figure out what’s going on, somehow,” he said.
“I wish we could be more help. If Ryan thinks of anything else that might help you figure out what’s happening with her, I’ll call you, okay?” She looked past Dax to the back of Ryan’s truck, the tailgate opened to lie flush against the porch. “I’m really glad that was the last load. We’ve been hauling and unloading all day. And now I get to start unpacking it all.”
Dax surveyed the boxes and furniture stacked in the foyer, in the dining room and down the hall. “I didn’t realize you had this much stuff, sis.”
“I didn’t, but there’s tons of furniture in the attic at the plantation, and Nanette told me I might as well take some of it. I didn’t even realize she’d been going up there and covering it all in plastic to protect it from the storms. Or she did until we got the roof fixed.”
“Nanette cares a lot about saving the old stuff, the furniture and the house,” he said.
“As if you don’t care just as much. I don’t know what the rest of us would do without you two urging us on. And I’m glad you haven’t moved out of the plantation-I’d have felt a bit guilty leaving if I thought Nan was going to be living there and trying to keep that big place up alone.”
“I love that place,” Dax said honestly. Truthfully, he’d never considered living anywhere else. Even when he went to LSU in Baton Rouge, he’d commuted, because he didn’t want to be that far from the house that meant so much to him. Nanette was right; the plantation was their legacy, and he planned to help her keep it that way, both by restoring it with the rest of the family and by finding proof that it was inhabited during the Civil War.
“Whoa, where’d your mind go?” she asked.
“Thinking about the house.”
“Well, you should check out all the neat things up in the attic sometime. Most of it is still in plastic, but it’s in great shape, particularly for stuff so old.” She smiled. “I’m kind of excited about having furniture that belonged to our ancestors in mine and Ryan’s house. It’s nice to be able to give things a second chance to live, you know?”
“Yeah, it is,” Dax agreed, but he wasn’t referring to old furniture. And he still had to figure out how to give Celeste her second chance.
6
CELESTE HAD NEVER had such a difficult time getting back to the middle. She stumbled, fell down, then used a wall for leverage to stand up again. She had to keep moving, had to get away from the cries behind her, and back to Dax. She’d found her way through with Prissy, with Adeline Vicknair’s help. She’d simply get back to the middle and ask Adeline to let her through again, and this time she’d beg the older woman to let her stay-at least long enough to make love with Dax just once, if she couldn’t be with him forever.
With every ounce of her strength, she edged forward. She knew that the center room was near; a faint glow illuminated the pathway ahead, and she had no doubt that the glimmering was from its light. Was another spirit going through now? Or was a child there needing help? Both times when Celeste had helped children, she’d been able to see Dax. Maybe that’s why the light was there; another child was waiting and needing her help-needing their help.
She finally reached the opening to the middle room, but was dismayed to see no other spirit in its center. She was completely alone, yet the light was steadily growing brighter, the same way it had when Cassie passed through. As always, Celeste felt drawn to its warmth, drawn to its unique allure. She was so cold, and she knew that merely getting nearer to that potent beam would warm her all over.
She wanted to be warm again.
Celeste didn’t want to pass through, she had to get back to Dax, but she did want to get warm. She stepped toward the light, leaned her head back and let the powerful glow wash over her from head to toe. It felt so good, so perfect. She took another step forward and knew before she looked that the opening had expanded. The blissful heat claimed the entire room now, warming her from the inside out, and her pains started to fade. She could feel her exhaustion lifting, and nothing but freedom from her burdens waiting on the other side.