One Year Later
The white plantation house stood proudly, high on a hill; standing guard over the now flourishing landscape. There had been many decades of sadness in the house, but now there was laughter and joy, and from the gleaming slate tiles on the roof to the pristine whitewash on the siding, to the black-painted wooden shutters proudly flanking the house’s windows, to the wide porch steps, the house seemed to know it and all but sighed with happiness.
Beautiful hedgerows once again encircled the estate like a graceful necklace. The lawns were once again lush and thick, and the trees lining the driveway were once again heavy with green. The cobbled area in front of the house was replaced with a blacktop area, and the massive stable made way for a covered garage.
In the back of the house, English Boxwoods lined the path to the more formal gardens. All of the original plants, Helleri holly shrubbery, Jasmine, lavender, marigolds, and hibiscus: all were blooming fiercely, sending their fragrances to mix in the light summer breeze.
Beyond the low gardens, the elaborate maze, sculpted from privet hedge, was fully restored to its resplendent glory. Interspersed with sweet honeysuckle, the privet wound around to an elaborate fountain that once again lured visitors with the sound of gently falling water.
Along the winding flagstone path, the rhododendron bushes were heavy with pink, purple, and white blooms. The lake regained its ethereal glow, and the man of the house, along with his guests and friends, would spend sticky summer afternoons swimming and frolicking in its cool, clear water.
The man who now lived in the house was young, beautiful, and full of life. He had truly made this house a home. The man’s lady-friend who visited frequently was equally lovely, and the connection between the pair was as strong as the courtship that started the house’s saga all those years ago. The pair had grown very close over the last year; the bond that had formed between them when they first met grew stronger with each passing month. Soon, the man hoped, they would be a family, and once again delightful children would chase each other through the house’s large rooms, and frolic with big, dopey-grinned dogs on the lawn.
This house, this home, was once again a happy place; full of joy and the promise of tomorrow.
THE END
Author's Note:
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who stuck with me through the lo-o-o-ong hiatus while I got this story back on track. Your kind comments and emails were very much appreciated.
And an extra-special thank you to my dear friend T for all her help and encouragement when I took on the task of rewriting this story. T, you offered advice, story ideas, and a kick in the pants when I was lagging on word count :)
Until next time, readers.
~ Hath
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“We have to find the ring,” Angel Rose said.
“Thank you,” Kirstin said, as tears of gratitude gathered in her eyes.
Angel Rose knelt by the hole in the ground and started sifting through the dirt. “We can start with the grave, I guess.” She looked to Kirstin. “What does it look like? Aside from it being a ring.”
Kirstin smiled. “It was the most beautiful, shiny gold I’ve ever seen. All around the outside were etched tiny little ivy leaves. It was beautiful.”
Angel Rose nodded and resumed searching the grave.
“Didn’t the sheriff already search in here?” Richie asked. When his question went unanswered, he sighed and joined Angel Rose graveside, thrusting his fingers into the earth.
Marty took up a position at the foot of the grave, a frown furrowing his brow. “I thought that you said that you thought my ancestor took the ring?”
“It doesn’t hurt to double-check,” Angel Rose said, digging furiously. Marty paced the edge of the grave, watching Angel Rose and Richie shift piles of dirt. He pinched his upper lip while he paced, and looked to be deep in thought.
When half an hour had passed with no luck, Angel Rose sat back on her haunches. She and Richie sat for long minutes, staring into the hole. “It’s not here,” she said dejectedly.
Richie put an arm around Angel Rose’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s just lost,” he said quietly.
She nodded. “Maybe it is. But maybe…” She looked up and met Marty’s eyes. “Marty,” she said, “are there any... what I mean to say is, is there...”
“Are there any old rings kicking about the Halstead manse that could be hers?” Marty looked sharply at Angel Rose, who blushed and stared at the ground. He shifted his gaze to Kirstin and shook his head. “Not to my knowledge,” he said. He frowned again. “Anyway, how do you know a critter didn’t make off with it? Jeremiah didn’t necessarily steal from the woman his brother killed.” Marty stood, dusted off his knees, and headed up the path without another word. Richie and Angel Rose stared after him until he was gone.
“Well that was rude,” Richie said.
Angel Rose smiled wryly. “Discovering you have a murder in your family history would tend to make a body a bit surly,” she said.
Richie agreed. “Hey, what about at the Historical Society? You said that you get estate jewelry and stuff all the time – why don’t we look there?”
Angel Rose shook her head. “No, I’d remember a ring like that if it had come through – the etching would have been unusual for the time. No, it’s not there.”
“And you catalogued every single piece that came in? Are you sure? “
“Richie, I know every piece of paper, jewelry, and other memorabilia that’s in that building. The ring is not there.”
“And we saw the sheriff dig through the grave, and yet we just spent almost an hour searching it...”
“Fine,” Angel Rose snapped, rising to her feet. “If it will make you feel better, we’ll go look for it.”
“It’s not about making me feel better,” Richie insisted. “It’s more about being thorough, I guess. I think we need to check.”
Richie didn’t voice the rest of his thought. If Kirstin “refused” to rest because she didn’t have her wedding ring, he would have her in his house for as long as she wanted to stay. On the surface, it didn’t sound like a bad thing, especially now they’ve found her body and Kirstin didn’t have to relive her last moments any more, but he really didn’t want to have a ghost in his house any longer than he needed to. If he had to irritate Angel Rose to make sure, absolutely sure, that the ring wasn’t at the Historical Society, then so be it. She’d get over it.
* * *
“I told you it wasn’t there,” Angel Rose said three hours later as Richie drove them back to the Thompson Estate. They had looked through every tray of rings, every box of baubles, contained in the safe.
“You were right, I was wrong,” Richie said. “Are you sure you want to come back to the house? You look exhausted, sweetheart. You should get some rest.” Ang looked as if she would protest, but Richie held up a hand to stay her protest. “I am not trying to tell you what to do; I’m simply making a suggestion. I’m just saying, it’s been a stressful day for everyone, and you’ve gone through more than most.”
“I’m fine, I promise. I feel I should be there with you when you tell Kirstin we couldn’t find her ring.”
“Yeah, about that; if she decides she can’t rest or whatever, I’m not really sure I want to keep a haunted house.” He stole a sidelong look at Angel Rose. He saw her nod, whether in agreement or disbelief, he didn’t know.
They rounded the last driveway bend, and Richie frowned at the house. “Who’s that on the porch?” he asked.
Angel Rose squinted through the windshield. “I think that’s Marty.”
Richie pulled up in front of the house and killed the motor. “Marty!” he called out as he exited the truck. “What brings you back here?”
“I wanted to apologize for the way I left earlier,” he said. “I was unconscionably rude.”
“It’s alright,” Angel Rose answered, “and completely understandable. It’s been a trying couple of days.”
“That it has,” Marty agreed, “but it’s no excuse for my lapse in manners.” He stretched out a hand to shake first to Angel Rose’s, then to Richie’s in apology. “There is another reason I came back.”
Richie noticed that Marty had left a small parcel on the porch railing. He and Angel Rose watched as Marty opened the box and withdrew a small velvet bag. “This was my grandmother’s,” he said. “It was passed down to my mother, and would have been passed down to my sister had she lived.” Angel Rose’s startled glance didn’t deter him from getting his confession out. “And if I had children, it would have passed down to my eldest. Unfortunately, Emily and I have not been blessed in that way.”
“Is that what I think it is?” Richie asked, taking a cue from Marty not to dwell on his personal history.
“It may be,” Marty said. He opened the bag and shook something out of it. He held it up for Angel Rose and Richie to see: a small gold ring.
“But you said -- ” Annoyed, Angel Rose started to ask him why he didn’t say anything, but Richie put a staying hand on her arm.
Marty smiled slightly at Angel Rose. “I thought the description of the ring sounded familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes, and frankly, I wanted to be wrong. It’s bad enough there’s a murderer in my family tree, but a thief as well?” He shook his head. “It’s just too much.”
Angel Rose’s expression softened. “I can understand that,” she said. “May I see the ring?” She held out her hand, and Marty dropped it into her upturned palm. She held up the ring to the light, noticing the pattern of ivy leaves woven around the outside of the band. “It’s beautiful,” she said, turning the ring this way and that.
While Angel Rose was examining the jewelry, Richie asked Marty, “Is there any more to the story of how it came to be with your family?”
Marty cleared his throat. “All I know is what I told you earlier – that it was my grandmother’s. I can only assume that my grandfather got it from some other relation who had taken it from Kirstin.” He met Angel Rose’s eyes. “Sounds like the ring came from Jeremiah,” he said, “though I don’t want to admit it.” He looked from the ring to the upstairs window and back again. “Would you do me a favor I do not deserve? Would you bring the ring to Kirstin with my deepest apologies?”
“That is not necessary,” a voice said from behind them. The trio turned to see Kirstin standing in the doorway – none of them had noticed the front door opening of its own accord. “May I see the ring?”
Angel Rose approached Kirstin and held up the ring for her. “It is mine,” Kirstin said softly. She looked to Marty. “Thank you for returning it to me.”
Marty bowed his head slightly. “Miss Kirstin, I apologize deeply for the pain and anguish my family has caused you. If I could change the past, I certainly would, but I hope that this ring brings you some small measure of comfort.”
“It will,” Kirstin said, sighing happily. “And thank you for the gracious apology but you are not to blame for your forebears’ cruelty. You are a decent, honorable man, and do your family proud.”
“I thank you kindly, ma’am,” Marty said, blushing slightly. He cleared his throat and looked at Richie and Angel Rose. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.” He shook each of their hands in turn and left.
Richie and Angel Rose turned to Kirstin. “What do you want us to do?” Angel Rose asked.
Kirstin smiled and covered Angel Rose’s hands with hers. “I would love nothing more than for you to keep my ring,” she said, closing her eyes, and projecting warmth onto their joined hands. “You are my family, and it seems rather silly to bury my remains with it.” Kirstin’s eyes welled with tears. “You are the kind of woman I hope my daughters grew up to be. It would make me happy for you to keep it with you.”
Angel Rose couldn’t speak for the lump that formed in her throat. Kirsten turned her gaze to Richie, and continued. “And you, young man; you won’t have to deal with me much longer. Once I am laid to rest, I will be at peace. I thank you both from the bottom of my soul for finding me.”
Richie smiled at “his” ghost. “In a way, I’m going to miss you,” he said. “I am sorry for all that you went through, and wish it didn’t happen. We will lay you to rest with your husband just as soon as the Sheriff says it’s okay.”
“Thank you,” Kirstin said, then dissolved from view.
* * *
A week had passed since the simple ceremony that laid Kirstin Maddox to rest. Angel Rose, Richie, Marty, the Sheriff, and the local minister gathered around the Maddox family plot, and buried Kirstin alongside her husband. Richie had paid for the grave marker, and laid a single pink rose atop its arched peak. As Kirstin’s casket settled into the ground, a breeze stirred the grass around the grave. The wind lifted the rose from the top of the grave marker and sent it gently fluttering to the top of the casket.
Since the burial, Richie had started making plans for bringing the gardens back to life. He had a crew coming in to start making headway on the maze. Of everything on the property, that felt special to him, and he couldn’t wait to see it restored to its glory. When he heard the rumble of a diesel engine in the driveway, he rubbed his hands together with glee. Time to get started.
“Thank you,” Kirstin said, as tears of gratitude gathered in her eyes.
Angel Rose knelt by the hole in the ground and started sifting through the dirt. “We can start with the grave, I guess.” She looked to Kirstin. “What does it look like? Aside from it being a ring.”
Kirstin smiled. “It was the most beautiful, shiny gold I’ve ever seen. All around the outside were etched tiny little ivy leaves. It was beautiful.”
Angel Rose nodded and resumed searching the grave.
“Didn’t the sheriff already search in here?” Richie asked. When his question went unanswered, he sighed and joined Angel Rose graveside, thrusting his fingers into the earth.
Marty took up a position at the foot of the grave, a frown furrowing his brow. “I thought that you said that you thought my ancestor took the ring?”
“It doesn’t hurt to double-check,” Angel Rose said, digging furiously. Marty paced the edge of the grave, watching Angel Rose and Richie shift piles of dirt. He pinched his upper lip while he paced, and looked to be deep in thought.
When half an hour had passed with no luck, Angel Rose sat back on her haunches. She and Richie sat for long minutes, staring into the hole. “It’s not here,” she said dejectedly.
Richie put an arm around Angel Rose’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s just lost,” he said quietly.
She nodded. “Maybe it is. But maybe…” She looked up and met Marty’s eyes. “Marty,” she said, “are there any... what I mean to say is, is there...”
“Are there any old rings kicking about the Halstead manse that could be hers?” Marty looked sharply at Angel Rose, who blushed and stared at the ground. He shifted his gaze to Kirstin and shook his head. “Not to my knowledge,” he said. He frowned again. “Anyway, how do you know a critter didn’t make off with it? Jeremiah didn’t necessarily steal from the woman his brother killed.” Marty stood, dusted off his knees, and headed up the path without another word. Richie and Angel Rose stared after him until he was gone.
“Well that was rude,” Richie said.
Angel Rose smiled wryly. “Discovering you have a murder in your family history would tend to make a body a bit surly,” she said.
Richie agreed. “Hey, what about at the Historical Society? You said that you get estate jewelry and stuff all the time – why don’t we look there?”
Angel Rose shook her head. “No, I’d remember a ring like that if it had come through – the etching would have been unusual for the time. No, it’s not there.”
“And you catalogued every single piece that came in? Are you sure? “
“Richie, I know every piece of paper, jewelry, and other memorabilia that’s in that building. The ring is not there.”
“And we saw the sheriff dig through the grave, and yet we just spent almost an hour searching it...”
“Fine,” Angel Rose snapped, rising to her feet. “If it will make you feel better, we’ll go look for it.”
“It’s not about making me feel better,” Richie insisted. “It’s more about being thorough, I guess. I think we need to check.”
Richie didn’t voice the rest of his thought. If Kirstin “refused” to rest because she didn’t have her wedding ring, he would have her in his house for as long as she wanted to stay. On the surface, it didn’t sound like a bad thing, especially now they’ve found her body and Kirstin didn’t have to relive her last moments any more, but he really didn’t want to have a ghost in his house any longer than he needed to. If he had to irritate Angel Rose to make sure, absolutely sure, that the ring wasn’t at the Historical Society, then so be it. She’d get over it.
* * *
“I told you it wasn’t there,” Angel Rose said three hours later as Richie drove them back to the Thompson Estate. They had looked through every tray of rings, every box of baubles, contained in the safe.
“You were right, I was wrong,” Richie said. “Are you sure you want to come back to the house? You look exhausted, sweetheart. You should get some rest.” Ang looked as if she would protest, but Richie held up a hand to stay her protest. “I am not trying to tell you what to do; I’m simply making a suggestion. I’m just saying, it’s been a stressful day for everyone, and you’ve gone through more than most.”
“I’m fine, I promise. I feel I should be there with you when you tell Kirstin we couldn’t find her ring.”
“Yeah, about that; if she decides she can’t rest or whatever, I’m not really sure I want to keep a haunted house.” He stole a sidelong look at Angel Rose. He saw her nod, whether in agreement or disbelief, he didn’t know.
They rounded the last driveway bend, and Richie frowned at the house. “Who’s that on the porch?” he asked.
Angel Rose squinted through the windshield. “I think that’s Marty.”
Richie pulled up in front of the house and killed the motor. “Marty!” he called out as he exited the truck. “What brings you back here?”
“I wanted to apologize for the way I left earlier,” he said. “I was unconscionably rude.”
“It’s alright,” Angel Rose answered, “and completely understandable. It’s been a trying couple of days.”
“That it has,” Marty agreed, “but it’s no excuse for my lapse in manners.” He stretched out a hand to shake first to Angel Rose’s, then to Richie’s in apology. “There is another reason I came back.”
Richie noticed that Marty had left a small parcel on the porch railing. He and Angel Rose watched as Marty opened the box and withdrew a small velvet bag. “This was my grandmother’s,” he said. “It was passed down to my mother, and would have been passed down to my sister had she lived.” Angel Rose’s startled glance didn’t deter him from getting his confession out. “And if I had children, it would have passed down to my eldest. Unfortunately, Emily and I have not been blessed in that way.”
“Is that what I think it is?” Richie asked, taking a cue from Marty not to dwell on his personal history.
“It may be,” Marty said. He opened the bag and shook something out of it. He held it up for Angel Rose and Richie to see: a small gold ring.
“But you said -- ” Annoyed, Angel Rose started to ask him why he didn’t say anything, but Richie put a staying hand on her arm.
Marty smiled slightly at Angel Rose. “I thought the description of the ring sounded familiar, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to raise anyone’s hopes, and frankly, I wanted to be wrong. It’s bad enough there’s a murderer in my family tree, but a thief as well?” He shook his head. “It’s just too much.”
Angel Rose’s expression softened. “I can understand that,” she said. “May I see the ring?” She held out her hand, and Marty dropped it into her upturned palm. She held up the ring to the light, noticing the pattern of ivy leaves woven around the outside of the band. “It’s beautiful,” she said, turning the ring this way and that.
While Angel Rose was examining the jewelry, Richie asked Marty, “Is there any more to the story of how it came to be with your family?”
Marty cleared his throat. “All I know is what I told you earlier – that it was my grandmother’s. I can only assume that my grandfather got it from some other relation who had taken it from Kirstin.” He met Angel Rose’s eyes. “Sounds like the ring came from Jeremiah,” he said, “though I don’t want to admit it.” He looked from the ring to the upstairs window and back again. “Would you do me a favor I do not deserve? Would you bring the ring to Kirstin with my deepest apologies?”
“That is not necessary,” a voice said from behind them. The trio turned to see Kirstin standing in the doorway – none of them had noticed the front door opening of its own accord. “May I see the ring?”
Angel Rose approached Kirstin and held up the ring for her. “It is mine,” Kirstin said softly. She looked to Marty. “Thank you for returning it to me.”
Marty bowed his head slightly. “Miss Kirstin, I apologize deeply for the pain and anguish my family has caused you. If I could change the past, I certainly would, but I hope that this ring brings you some small measure of comfort.”
“It will,” Kirstin said, sighing happily. “And thank you for the gracious apology but you are not to blame for your forebears’ cruelty. You are a decent, honorable man, and do your family proud.”
“I thank you kindly, ma’am,” Marty said, blushing slightly. He cleared his throat and looked at Richie and Angel Rose. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.” He shook each of their hands in turn and left.
Richie and Angel Rose turned to Kirstin. “What do you want us to do?” Angel Rose asked.
Kirstin smiled and covered Angel Rose’s hands with hers. “I would love nothing more than for you to keep my ring,” she said, closing her eyes, and projecting warmth onto their joined hands. “You are my family, and it seems rather silly to bury my remains with it.” Kirstin’s eyes welled with tears. “You are the kind of woman I hope my daughters grew up to be. It would make me happy for you to keep it with you.”
Angel Rose couldn’t speak for the lump that formed in her throat. Kirsten turned her gaze to Richie, and continued. “And you, young man; you won’t have to deal with me much longer. Once I am laid to rest, I will be at peace. I thank you both from the bottom of my soul for finding me.”
Richie smiled at “his” ghost. “In a way, I’m going to miss you,” he said. “I am sorry for all that you went through, and wish it didn’t happen. We will lay you to rest with your husband just as soon as the Sheriff says it’s okay.”
“Thank you,” Kirstin said, then dissolved from view.
* * *
A week had passed since the simple ceremony that laid Kirstin Maddox to rest. Angel Rose, Richie, Marty, the Sheriff, and the local minister gathered around the Maddox family plot, and buried Kirstin alongside her husband. Richie had paid for the grave marker, and laid a single pink rose atop its arched peak. As Kirstin’s casket settled into the ground, a breeze stirred the grass around the grave. The wind lifted the rose from the top of the grave marker and sent it gently fluttering to the top of the casket.
Since the burial, Richie had started making plans for bringing the gardens back to life. He had a crew coming in to start making headway on the maze. Of everything on the property, that felt special to him, and he couldn’t wait to see it restored to its glory. When he heard the rumble of a diesel engine in the driveway, he rubbed his hands together with glee. Time to get started.