Night Journey (7 page)

Emma turned and stumbled back inside the hotel. Her teeth chattered; her hair and nightgown were completely soaked. She stood shivering in the hallway, trying to calm her spinning nerves. The clattering screech of unstable wheels approaching from the end of the hallway arrested her attention.

The ghostly nurse advanced, pushing a long cart on wheels. A white sheet covered the object on the gurney. Emma stood paralyzed as it drew closer; the shrill noise grew louder.

She couldn’t move—she couldn’t think—she couldn’t breathe.

The nurse stopped and smiled at Emma. Her scarred lips twisted into a leer as she pulled the sheet forward. A woman’s corpse lay on the gurney, its face contorted in the final throes of agony.

She hadn’t been told who the dead woman was, but somehow Emma intuitively knew. She’d seen that face before—somewhere—sometime.

Overcome with grief, Emma collapsed in the hallway. She pounded on the door of the room where she sat, crumpled and sobbing. She heard voices from inside the chamber; someone fumbled with the deadbolt. The door opened and Emma cried with relief when she saw Moonbeam and Chief Whitefeather.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” Moonbeam clutched her wrap with one hand and helped Emma with the other. “You’re soaking wet.”

“She’s dead,” Emma babbled, shivering and sniffling. “Anna’s dead….”

“Who’s Anna?”

Eyes wild, confusion painted on her face, Emma scanned the hallway. “I don’t know…I know Anna’s dead…but I don’t know who she is.”

Zan’s heart raced as he pounded barefoot down the stairs. He pulled the tee shirt over his head while he ran, and then cursed when he felt the tag at his throat. Damn. He’d put it on backward. With shaking fingers he yanked it back up and twisted it around, then pulled his arms correctly through the sleeves. He didn’t stop moving until he reached the half-open door. Chief Whitefeather motioned him inside.

His breath caught when he saw Emma huddled on the couch, dressed in a terry-cloth robe, a white towel draped around her head. Her legs were tucked beneath the robe and her head rested on Moonbeam’s shoulder. She looked so small and sad and bedraggled. His heart ached at the sight. Moonbeam stood and discretely moved out of the way when she saw Zan approach.

“Emma. Baby. Are you all right?” He sank down beside her and cradled her in his arms. “What happened?”

“I…don’t…know,” she replied, between sniffs. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed harder. “My head hurts…”

“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He held her tight and tried to soothe her by patting and caressing her back. He glanced toward the others, uncertain what to do.

“Very evil spirits here,” Chief Whitefeather muttered. He shook his head and paced.

“I think Emma must have had a nightmare,” said Moonbeam.

“No.” Emma pulled away from Zan and shook her head. “It was real…it wasn’t a dream…so horrible…”

“Honey, how did you wind up down here in Moonbeam’s room? I’ve never known you to sleepwalk before.”

“I told you. I wasn’t asleep,” babbled Emma. “I saw a woman—a nurse—in our room and I followed her into the hallway. Then I thought I saw her go outside on the porch, so I went there, too. But it was raining and I got soaking wet.” She stopped and sniffed before she continued. “And then I saw a girl jump off the balcony. I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t…”

Zan interrupted. “You saw somebody jump off the balcony? Did they get hurt?”

Emma lowered her voice and her eyes darted about the room, scanning every corner. “I don’t know. She disappeared—and then I came back inside—and I saw the nurse pushing a gurney in the hall. She showed me a corpse and I recognized its face, but I don’t know how I could have known who it was.”

“Where are the nurse and the body now?” Zan turned to Moonbeam and the Chief. “Did you see them?”

“We didn’t see anything but Emma crying at the door,” replied Moonbeam. “I’m sorry.”

Zan took Emma’s hands into his and pulled her gently around to face him. “Sweetheart, I know this all seemed very real to you. But you’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I really believe you just had another very vivid nightmare.”

“No…“

“Wait.” Zan held his finger to her lips. “Think about it. Everything you’ve told me has gone along almost exactly with what we heard on the ghost tour. It’s probably all mixed up with the nightmares you’ve been having. Why, I’m surprised I didn’t have the same dreams myself.”

Emma hung her head, a frown of confusion on her face. “I suppose you could be right.”

“Come on, honey. Let’s go back to bed.” He pulled her gently to her feet. “I’ll give you something for your headache and we’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“But what about the wedding? We can’t let my foolishness ruin Allen and Phoebe’s big day.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m not going to risk your health. They’ll understand.”

Emma drew a deep breath and composed herself. “I’m okay. I see that I was just overreacting. Please don’t tell Allen and Phoebe about this. I’ll be all right now,” she said, and then turned to Moonbeam and the Chief. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“No problem at all,” replied Moonbeam. The Chief grunted.

“Thanks for calling me. We’ll return the robe in the morning.”

Zan carried Emma’s wet garments with one hand, put his arm around her with the other, and gently guided her back to their room. He helped her change into fresh nightclothes and climb into bed, then went to the bathroom and brought her headache medication. She melted into the mattress with a whimper.

He lay down beside her and held her until her rhythmic breathing told him she slept. Savoring the warmth of her skin and the fragrance of her hair, he thought about how much he loved her and how worried he had been. The thought of losing her was almost unbearable. What would he do without her?

When he knew he wouldn’t disturb her, he carefully removed his arms from underneath her body and settled onto the pillow. She moaned and shifted onto her side. He punched his own pillow into a ball and tried to relax, but his thoughts ran rampant. His mind refused to shut down.

If he’d had any idea how this place would affect her he would have never brought her here—brother’s wedding or not. She’d been so excited at the prospect of a weekend at a big hotel in the mountains; he’d thought it would be a great getaway for them both. But then after her doctor’s appointment last week, the nightmares had begun and her chronic headaches had resumed. He supposed he should have mentioned the ghost business before they left, but it had slipped his mind.

She could be so hyperactive sometimes; it was hard to get her to unwind. When things didn’t go on schedule, he could always tell it stressed her by the little crease that formed in her brow and the way she tightened her mouth. She tried so hard to be perfect and that was probably why this setback of her hopes to get pregnant had been so hard on her. She internalized too much and the cracks were beginning to show.

Zan remembered the first time he’d seen Emma. She’d looked beautiful yet pale when she walked into the little neighborhood pharmacy where he worked with his father. He didn’t get to see a woman like her every day, with long brown hair, an hourglass figure and a face like an angel’s—unless he looked at the movie magazines against the back wall. He couldn’t resist snatching glances at her from behind the counter as he filled her prescription. The headaches, he’d discovered, came after the loss of her family in a jetliner crash.

He didn’t normally flirt with the customers; in fact, she was the only one. But the sight of her bare left hand had excited him and given him hope. Surprised at himself, he had managed to be witty and charming as he rang up the sale. Usually such a klutz around women, there was something special about her that inspired him. Her sweet laughter sounded like music to him and he knew he was hooked.

The afternoon rush hit the drugstore soon after she left and Zan was too busy for a while to think much more about her—until he saw two pills lying on the measuring tray. Her prescription had been for thirty tablets and he’d accidentally shortchanged her. He decided to take advantage of the situation. He had her phone number, her address, and a perfect excuse to contact her.

Zan gazed wearily at the clock on the bedside table—four a.m. God, he was so tired. But he couldn’t relax. He closed his eyes and tried to lull himself with deep breathing. After what seemed like an eternity, exhaustion finally overtook him and he slept until the morning sun peeked over the mountain, bathing the bedchamber with golden light and the promise of a new day.
Emma awakened refreshed the next morning, brimming with renewed determination. She inhaled deeply and glanced around the bedchamber. The stormy weather from the night before had passed. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds and dust motes danced playfully on the air currents. She felt Zan’s strong arms encircle her and she sighed with contentment. Memories of the night before came flooding back, but she no longer felt the horror of the experience. Everything seemed different now.

Zan’s grip tightened when she stirred and she turned to face him. Her mouth moved across his in a whisper-light contact and he responded with increased passion. She curled into the curve of his body and they made slow, sweet, exquisite love. They slept and woke and loved again.

By the time Zan and Emma rose and dressed, it was almost time for lunch. They left the hotel, drove down the mountain, and parked the car in a downtown lot. The crisp air exhilarated her and the narrow twisting streets appeared renewed, washed clean from the previous night’s rain. Birds rejoicing overhead lifted Emma’s spirits. She smiled and turned toward the sun to let the warmth caress her face.

They strolled hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, glancing into shops filled with brightly colored merchandise. A horse and buggy clattered down a steep incline. A green bus shaped like a trolley stopped on the opposite side of the street and discharged a horde of tourists. Emma and Zan ducked into a restaurant to escape the crowds.

After lunch they continued their exploration of downtown Eureka Springs. Emma loved the olde-time atmosphere and the beautiful artwork on display. They stopped to pet a cocker spaniel tied to a light post. Zan bought a hideous hillbilly wood carving of a razorback hog as a gift for the newlywed’s fireplace mantle. He bought fudge at the
Two Dumb Dames Fudge Factory
. They sat on a bench near a public spring, fed each other chocolate, and laughed at the mess they made.

Emma glanced at her wristwatch. “Oh, shoot. We’ve gotta get back.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s time for you girls to start primping for the wedding.”

“Are you sorry you missed out on playing golf with the guys?”

“Are you kidding?” Zan reached over and flicked a tiny dab of chocolate from the corner of her mouth. “I can’t think of a better way to spend the day—or anyone I’d rather spend it with.”

“Are old married people like us supposed to be this happy after all these years?” She felt like her heart would burst with the love that filled her. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You know it’s all your fault, don’t you?”

“What?”

“That I’m never gonna win the lottery.”

“And why is that?” She tilted her head. “’Cause you never buy a ticket?”

“No.” He reached across and kissed her on the forehead, then stared deep into her eyes. “’Cause I used up all my good luck when I met you.”
Seven thirty-five.

Dusk settled quietly across the western edge of the Ozarks, casting a faint purple glow in the distance. The car’s headlights lit up the rocky hillside as they climbed and twisted up the steep switchbacks.

Emma gasped at the sight of Thorncrown Chapel, shining like a brilliant jewel in the twilight. Lights twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminated the towering trees that surrounded the magnificent structure. Nearby sat the Thorncrown Worship Center, its towering bulk resting on giant girders that climbed high into a peak and then jutted out across the mountain, like a huge glass and steel fortress.

Zan walked with Emma from the car and led her inside the chapel. He looked dashing in his dove gray tuxedo. He kissed her before relinquishing her to an usher, who then escorted her to a seat next to Jonathan and Barbara. The scent of roses and the relaxing sound of organ music filled the hall.

She peered around the chapel, amazed at the glass walls that soared more than four stories through the forest. Attendance was small and intimate.

“Emma, you look lovely, as usual.” Jonathan rose while she found a place on the pew. Barbara smiled and nodded.

“Thanks,” replied Emma. “This is such a beautiful place for a wedding.”

“Prettier than that casino wedding chapel where you and Zan tied the knot?” asked Jonathan.

“Much prettier.” Emma laughed at the irony. Zan and Emma were the practical ones, yet they had eloped and married in Las Vegas. Wild child Allen and hippie chick Phoebe, on the other hand, had planned a traditional ceremony.

The processional began with a flourish of trumpets as a recording of
Rondeau’s Fanfare
filled the chapel. Zan escorted Moonbeam down the aisle. She wore a long, slinky, cowl-collared dress that dipped daringly in the back and changed colors from black to a shimmering, deep purple as she moved. A glistening, cut glass beaded Mata Hari headdress hugged her head and she carried one Sterling rosebud. Phoebe and Professor Lowenstein followed behind.