His Lovely Garden Read online

Run, Dolly Jane!

  With no time to think, I clawed my way down the hall and up the narrow staircase that led to the attic. I was crying now. I couldn’t think clearly, and the buzzing was growing louder. The door did not want to open…or my hand wouldn’t work; I couldn’t figure out which. I pushed against one more time with the last of my strength.

  Again, I thought I would collapse. So tired…I’m so tired…I can’t die here.

  I could feel the air move just a few inches away, but I couldn’t walk. I fell to my knees and reached out with my hand. Yes, there it was. The shimmering. The doorway. The thinning.

  But now I had no strength. Danforth had been right. So had Summer. But at least Jessica…oh, I am so tired.

  And then those invisible arms were around me again. Holding me, lifting me.

  Let me help you, sweet Dolly Jane. We will go together.

  Epilogue – Dolly Jane

  It was misting rain, and the moisture washed Sugar Hill in a sad gray hue. It did feel sad here. Sad and broken. Everything was gray, the sky, the water, even the small boat I lay in. Who would paint a boat gray? This wasn’t a battleship, just a wooden boat for a tiny pond. My dress felt damp, but at least my hair was pulled up in a ponytail; however, if I stayed out here too long, I would be drenched through. Sitting up carefully so I didn’t flip the boat over, I reached for the oars and began rowing toward the tiny gazebo in the center of the pond. The many times I’d visited the family home, I had never ventured out here, even though I had searched every other nook and cranny of Sugar Hill. And now I had another chance.

  It was so hard to believe I had been gone for three years. Three whole years since Lucas found me in the garden that night, the night we brought Jessica Chesterfield back. It felt like a lifetime ago. The night I returned, I was immediately whisked away, but I had been glad to be with Aunt Summer. Now that time was over. Things were “in flux,” as Uncle Eric liked to say.

  I faced some serious decisions now, some that I hadn’t expected before I came here. Mom had returned to rehab, but I had no illusions about her. Once her court-mandated time was up, she’d be back in the bars, but I made sure my father wouldn’t return. It was easy to hire a few men to remind him that he was no longer welcome in Belle Fontaine. Ever again. Yep, that was easy as pie. Mom had her faults, but no one deserved to be beaten like that. And now she wouldn’t anymore. I had made sure of it.

  I eased the boat to the shore and dragged it up to keep it from sailing away. I slid the oars into the bottom of the boat and brushed off my dirty hands. The sun appeared overhead and melted the mist away…but on the shore, just a hundred feet away, it was raining. How odd. Then again, things were always odd here at Sugar Hill. I closed my eyes and basked in the sunshine for a moment. Then his voice startled me.

  Hello, Dolly Jane…

  My eyes flew open, and I instantly spotted him inside the gazebo. Not fully him but his shadow. “Why are you here? Are you letting people see you, Ambrose?”

  I only want to be seen by you, my lovely flower. No one has seen me. And I have waited just as you asked me to.

  “If they see you, you won’t be able to stay. You do know that, don’t you? They will force me to send you back, and I will do it. I would never betray Avery or Summer.”

  I know this…but I only want to see you. I had to see you. Only you, now and forever. I am lonely without you.

  As he spoke, he became clearer to me. “Ambrose,” I whispered as he smiled. And yes, my speaking his name did make him stronger, clearer, just as Vertie’s journals revealed. What would Aunt Summer think about my being here with him? She was happy with her dashing military husband, Eric Richards. I felt a twinge of jealousy but refused to dwell on it. Ambrose shimmered slightly. He was not a shadow anymore; I discerned his outline now. I walked into the gazebo and sat on the center bench, unable to take my eyes off him.

  I wondered if Ambrose knew I was studying him. I still had the power to send him back, but that power was fading. I hadn’t made up my mind yet what I would do. I never intended to bring him back, but it had happened and now Ambrose was mine. If I chose to keep him. And he had power of his own; he had demonstrated that, hadn’t he?

  He could drive a man mad! What would he do to me?

  I would never harm you, Dolly Jane. I only want to love you, serve you.

  I leaped off the bench in surprise. “You cannot read my mind. Do not do that! My mind is my own, Ambrose.”

  With a sad smile, he nodded his head and shimmered slightly. Ah, my anger weakens him. Good to know. I know that now, Ambrose. Your selfish reaching has taught me something about you. He nodded again, but his dark eyes were fast on me. He became even clearer. I could see all of him now. His black pants, his half-open white shirt, his flowing dark hair and red lips. He was lovely; yes, he was truly the Lovely Man.

  “If I let you stay, you have to remain here, in the gazebo. You have to stay where you abandoned Susanna. You cannot come to Sugar Hill.”

  I only want to be with you, Dolly Jane. Susanna is gone, but I am here. Love me. Let me love you.

  A soft, warm breeze carried his words to me, and he flashed an elegant smile. The wind picked up a few loose tendrils, which slapped my cheeks. The breeze tugged on my dress too, in a slow, seductive way. I felt my face warm, but luckily for me, my mind always spoke louder than my heart or anything else. At least until now.

  “I know what you’ve done, Ambrose. I know how you betrayed the others. As soon as another girl was born, you abandoned the matrone. You should know now that I will not have children. You must know I cannot. My body will not allow it.” It was a hard truth but one I had come to terms with a long time ago. The disease that had crippled me as a child took that hope from me.

  Love you, Dolly Jane. Only you…just as you are.

  He faded now, as if my doubting his intentions hurt him. Perhaps it did. And perhaps he only wanted me to believe that it did. He could be a trickster at times. I’d seen all of Grandmother Margaret’s videos, even though no one knew it, and I read all of Vertie’s journals like they were scientific studies. I had spent my young life studying the Lovely Man. People talked so freely about him in front of me when I was young. As if a cripple would never catch his eye.

  Why keep it from Dolly Jane? He will never come for her.

  But he had come when I was young; I was only ten the first time I saw him. It was here at the first family picnic I ever attended. I’d ventured into the Mirror Room on my horrible crutches and saw his handsome face looking back at me from one of the mirrors. I was not afraid of him.

  And then he was gone, banished by the Dufresnes, but I brought him back. I hadn’t intended to, but I alone—the most powerful Dufresne yet—had achieved that. I had crossed time, twice. But I could never do it again. If I did, it would be for the last time; at least that is what I suspected. How many times could one person cheat death?

  Yes, I knew all about pretty, pretty Ambrose. “You know you are dead, don’t you?” I asked as I took my seat again. I crossed my legs and let my hands rest in my lap.

  No. Not dead because you are here. I am alive. Touch me, my sweet Dolly Jane. You are all I’ve ever wanted.

  He held his hand out to me, but I did not reach for it. I was still undecided.

  “Avery says she will live at Thorn Hill forever, and Summer has renounced you and Sugar Hill for her mortal husband.” He did not wince but withdrew his hand now. “Avery will eventually make me matrone. It is the logical conclusion.”

  Ambrose said nothing, and I read only longing in his eyes.

  “You must never harm Avery, nor are you to approach her for anything. And you must not let Summer see you, or it will be the end of you. She is strong too.”

  Yes, Dolly Jane. Let me love you. Please. I am so hungry for you.

  “I know, but we must talk. Listen to me, Ambrose.”

  I listen, dearest. I wait for you and listen.

  “Why did you leave Susanna here? She loved you, I
think, until you betrayed her. Why? I must know.” And then he vanished, but he wasn’t gone. No. Not at all. I felt the wind blow.

  Susanna is gone. She is no more.

  “I know, but why did you do it? You destroyed her. I must know why. If you don’t tell me, I will leave, Ambrose.”

  And then his outline reappeared. I hurt for Susanna. I loved Susanna. She failed the test.

  “When you love someone, you do not test them. You trust them.”

  I love you, Dolly Jane.

  “You love when it serves you, Ambrose.”

  And then he was in front of me, on his knees. I could see his face before me. His red lips trembled as he watched me. His vivid brown eyes searched mine as his hand cupped my cheek and his thumb grazed my bottom lip. Oh, this would cost him. He was using so much energy. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as he enjoyed the sensation of touching me. Yes, he enjoyed it. I could feel his desire. He wanted me to experience what he experienced.

  I serve you, Dolly Jane. Always. I have waited for you, my flower. The last flower of my lovely garden.

  Even though I knew what he meant, that he was referring to the small cemetery behind Thorn Hill, his collection of Dufresne women, I found that I could not resist him. I had never been kissed. I had never done anything romantic, in fact. I was too sensible for that, but now…now I could not think clearly. I knew I should object, but as he drew near, I did not.

  Love you, Dolly Jane.

  His husky voice was in my ear, and then his lips were on mine. Warm, living lips. What if it was true? Jessica had crossed time to find the man she loved, although she had not been allowed to stay there. What if I was meant to be with Ambrose? Yes, I wanted him. I wanted him for my own.

  I felt his hand in my hair as our lips touched, lightly at first. I could smell sunshine and rain on his skin. And then without fear, I kissed him fervently. This was no ghost but a man, a living man with warm flesh, a man I desired. And so I gave into that desire without regret, without withholding anything.

  Dolly Jane… he whispered in my ear.

  “Ambrose…” I dared to speak his name again. I felt him breathing, yes, he was breathing! And then we kissed again, and all my worries fell away. I could only think of him.

  When I woke later, I was alone. My dress was on the ground next to me; I reached for it and quickly pulled it on. My hair was unbound and had leaves in it, but that was not my concern now.

  The boat!

  I raced out of the gazebo expecting to see the boat gone, but it was not. I leaned against the doorframe and breathed a sigh of relief. I was not a good swimmer, and the thought of swimming across the pond made me nervous.

  “Ambrose, why did you leave?”

  I am still here, but I am not strong. I love you, Dolly Jane.

  “Will you be strong again?”

  Yes, you make me strong. Wait a little while, and I will show you how strong I am.

  His flirtatious voice echoed around me. My body warmed with desire again, but I refused to be a slave to it. There would be time later to think about all that had happened, but I dared not do so in his presence. I needed to think without worrying that he would hear me.

  “I cannot stay. I have to go back. Avery is waiting, and I must give her my decision.” I combed the leaves from my hair with my hands, quickly tilted my head and pulled my hair into a ponytail again. Hopefully, nobody would be the wiser. For the briefest moment, I felt a twinge of guilt.

  Do not leave me. I am lonely without you.

  “I must go now, but I will come back.”

  When, beloved? When? I sensed his frustration.

  “Soon,” I said as I closed my eyes. “You must stay here, Ambrose. Do not follow me. Stay here in the gazebo, and I will come to you.”

  No. Do not leave me here. You cannot leave me now. I am yours, and you are mine.

  “You will stay here. I command it.” As if to testify to my words, I pictured a wall around the tiny island. “You must stay and not cross the wall.”

  NO! That is not fair, Dolly Jane. I must be with you.

  “You must stay. If you truly love me, as you say you do, you will stay.” I climbed into the boat and began to row away. With all my heart I wanted to stay with him. But I could not linger because I would weaken and he would grow stronger. I would have to be careful. I could not allow him to escape, not if I wanted to keep him safe and keep the family safe.

  Return to me, Dolly Jane. Do not leave me here. I saw him briefly, weeping, his open white shirt fluttering in the breeze, and then he disappeared.

  “Soon, Ambrose. Soon,” I said one more time before I began to row in earnest. By the time I reached the shore, I could not hear him crying anymore.

  The world was as silent as the grave.

  And Ambrose was all mine.

  Connect with M.L. Bullock on Facebook. To receive updates on her latest releases, visit her website at M.L. Bullock and subscribe to her mailing list. You can also contact her at [email protected].

  About the Author

  Author of the best-selling Seven Sisters series and the Desert Queen series, M.L. Bullock has been storytelling since she was a child. A student of archaeology, she loves weaving stories that feature her favorite historical characters—including Nefertiti. She currently lives on the Gulf Coast with her family but travels frequently to explore the southern states she loves so much.

  Read more from M.L. Bullock

  The Nike Chronicles

  Blue Water

  Blue Wake

  Blue Tide

  The Seven Sisters Series

  Seven Sisters

  Moonlight Falls on Seven Sisters

  Shadows Stir at Seven Sisters

  The Stars that Fell

  The Stars We Walked Upon

  The Sun Rises Over Seven Sisters

  Christmas at Seven Sisters (bonus short stories)

  The Idlewood Series

  The Ghosts of Idlewood

  Dreams of Idlewood

  The Whispering Saint

  The Haunted Child

  Return to Seven Sisters

  (A Seven Sisters Sequel Series)

  The Roses of Mobile

  All the Summer Roses

  Blooms Torn Asunder

  A Garden of Thorns

  The Gulf Coast Paranormal Series

  The Ghosts of Kali Oka Road

  The Ghosts of the Crescent Theater

  A Haunting on Bloodgood Row

  The Legend of the Ghost Queen

  A Haunting at Dixie House

  The Ghost Lights of Forrest Field

  The Ghost of Gabrielle Bonet

  The Ghost of Harrington Farm

  The Creature on Crenshaw Road

  Shabby Hearts Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series

  A Touch of Shabby

  Shabbier by the Minute

  Shabby by Night

  The Sugar Hill Series

  Wife of the Left Hand

  Fire on the Ramparts

  Blood by Candlelight

  The Starlight Ball

  His Lovely Garden

  Ghosts of Summerleigh Series

  The Belles of Desire, Mississippi

  The Ghost of Jeopardy Belle

  The Lady in White

  Lost Camelot Series

  Guinevere Forever

  Guinevere Unconquered

  The Desert Queen Series

  The Tale of Nefret

  The Falcon Rises

  The Kingdom of Nefertiti

  The Song of the Bee-Eater

  Standalone books

  Ghosts on a Plane

  More from M.L. Bullock

  From The Belles of Desire, Mississippi

  The black and white photo had crumpled, brittle edges, but the faces were clear. Four girls looked back at me, three with smiles and one with a faraway look as if she were seeing past the moment—as if she could see me. I shivered at the silliness of that thought.

  “Can you guess which on
e is me?” She smiled like the Cheshire cat, and I stared at her and then at the photo. Picking out Harper was easy. You could tell the girls were related, but none of them looked exactly alike. Unwilling to wait for my answer, she said, “That’s me, on the end.”

  I smiled at her. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Oh, you’re such a liar, Jerica Poole, but thank you.” Thank goodness she didn’t call me Jeopardy again. But I wasn’t lying. Of course, she looked much older than this photo, but it was Harper nonetheless. She had a wide forehead and neat eyebrows that had a natural arch to them. In the photo, she wore a Peter Pan blouse, and her soft blond hair was bobbed and curled.

  “And which sister is which?”

  “Now, this pouty thing with the bee-stung lips is my sister Addison. She’s the only one of us who had brown eyes. She looked a lot like my father’s family. Addison was a sickly girl but sweet.” Addison had a cleft chin to go along with those full lips. She was certainly a pretty girl. “This ball of sunshine was my youngest sister, Loxley. Momma always braided her hair into two braids. She used to see ghosts all the time, right up until the day she moved away and married that boy from Mobile. Why can’t I think of his name?”

  “What?” I laughed at that. “Loxley must have had an imaginary friend or two, I gather?”

  “No, they weren’t imaginary friends; she saw ghosts just like you and I see cats or dogs. And this girl here, the one beside me, that’s my sister Jeopardy. She disappeared in 1942.” I was mesmerized by the girl with the wild blond hair. She looked so out of place, like a girl from another time had stepped into the frame. She wore a white sundress and had vulnerable-looking bare arms and that sad, faraway look in her eyes.

  “She looks so tiny. She was the oldest, right?”

  “Yeah, she was the oldest, but I was the tallest. I was the Ugly Duckling of the Belle family, taller than even Momma when I got older. Jeopardy was always a petite thing, with a wild streak a mile wide. Oh, how I wanted to be like Jeopardy.” Harper clutched the photo in her hand and closed her eyes as if she were remembering some half-forgotten moment. I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I was captivated by the photograph.

  “Hardly an Ugly Duckling, Harper. And I’m taller than you. Tell me about your sisters. You said Jeopardy disappeared?”