She didn’t weep. It was too late for tears. Instead, she rose, reminded herself to square her shoulders. She went back into the inn through the kitchen. There were chores to see to, and she could always think more clearly when she was working.
Her latest guests had gone off, eager to hunt antiques, so Cassie went back upstairs and turned on the vacuum she’d abandoned when the guests arrived.
She worked methodically, down the hallway, room by room. The bridal suite—Abigail’s room—was her favorite. But she paid little attention now to the lovely wallpaper with its rosebuds, the graceful canopy bed, the wash of sunlight through the lace curtains.
She reminded herself to bring up fresh flowers. Even when the room wasn’t occupied, there were always flowers on the table by the window. She’d forgotten them that morning.
Yet the room smelled of roses, powerfully. A sudden chill had her shivering. She felt him, and turned toward the door.
“Devin.” Relief, confusion, sorrow. She experienced them all as she took a step toward the doorway.
But it wasn’t Devin. The man was tall, dark-haired and handsome. But the face wasn’t Devin’s, and the clothes were formal, old-fashioned. Her hand went limp on the handle of the vacuum, and the sound of it buzzed in her ears.
Abigail, come with me. Take the children and come with me. Leave this place. You don’t love him.
No, Cassie thought, I’ve never loved him. Now I despise him.
Can’t you see what this is doing to you? How long will you stay, closed away from life this way?
It’s all I can do. It’s the best I can do.
I love you, Abby. I love you so much. I could make you happy if you’d only let me. We’ll go away from here, away from him. Start our lives over, together. I’ve already waited for you so long.
How can I? I’m bound to him. I have the children. And you, your life is here. You can’t walk away from the town, your responsibilities, the people who depend on you. You can’t settle for another man’s wife, another man’s children.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d kill for you. Die for you. For God’s sake, Abigail, give me the chance to love you. All these years I’ve stood by, knowing how unhappy you were, knowing you wer
e out of reach. That’s over now. He’s gone. We can leave and be miles from here before he comes back. Why should either of us settle for less than everything? I don’t want to sit in the parlor with you and pretend I don’t love you, don’t need you. I can’t keep being only your friend.
You know I value you, depend on you.
Tell me you love me.
I can’t. I can’t tell you that. There’s nothing inside me any longer. He killed it.
Come with me. And live again.
Whatever was there, whoever was there, faded, until there was only the doorway, the lovely wallpaper and the strong, sad scent of roses. Cassie found herself standing, almost swaying, with one hand reaching out to nothing at all.
The vacuum was still humming as she sank weakly to the floor.
What had happened here? she asked herself. Had she been dreaming? Hallucinating?
She laid a hand on her heart and found it was beating like a wild bird in a cage. Carefully she let her head drop down to her updrawn knees.
She had heard the ghosts before, felt them. Now, she realized, she had seen one. Not one of the Barlows, not the poor doomed soldier. But the man Abigail had loved. The man who had loved her.
Who had he been? She thought she might never know. But his face had been compelling, though filled with sorrow, his voice strong, even when it was pleading. Why hadn’t Abigail gone with him? Why hadn’t she taken that hand he reached out to her and run, run for her life?
Abigail had loved him. Cassie drew in a deep breath. Of that she was sure. The emotions that swirled through the room had been so powerful, she felt them still. There had been love here. Desperate, helpless love.
Is that why you weep? Cassie wondered. Because you didn’t go, and you lost him? You didn’t reach out, and then there was nothing to hold on to?
You were afraid to love him, so you broke his heart.
Just as she had broken Devin’s heart today.
With a shudder, Cassie lifted her head. Why? she asked herself. Out of fear and doubt. Out of habit. That was pathetic. All Devin had wanted was affection. But she hadn’t told him that she cared. Hadn’t showed him she cared.