Wherever She Goes (Psychic Seasons, ReGina Welling [novels to improve english TXT] 📗

Back in her room, Kat shucked off the bridesmaid dress and pulled on what felt to her like the rattiest pair of sweatpants in the world. Getting the pins out of her hair took her comfort level up another notch and she happily rubbed her nails over a few spots where the up do had pulled against her scalp then went into the bathroom to scrub off the makeup.

Finally, feeling more like herself than she had all day, Kat switched on the gas fireplace, huddled on the sofa with her knees drawn up to her chest, and began to sort through the thoughts and impressions that threatened to overwhelm her.

Julie had been a radiant, beautiful bride. Channeling Estelle’s thoughts and feelings had only served to enhance her own emotions at having the privilege of seeing Julie and Tyler speak their vows. Kat got a bit teary just thinking about it again.

But, being in a large group of people was something Kat found exhausting on both a spiritual and physical level. She often had to fight to keep her expression from reflecting things that spirit whispered in her ear. Just tonight, for instance, Tyler’s great grandmother had told her a story about a nephew—who just happened to be attending the wedding—a camp outhouse and a handful of firecrackers that was hilariously inappropriate. While she was being introduced to the man.

She’d just been congratulating herself for getting through the experience without triggering any verbal land mines when Gustavia had practically forced Zack to dance with her. He had said something that made her instinctively turn her face up to his and BAM, her life had been turned upside down again and now she had questions. Questions that may not have answers and no one available to ask—unless…

“Estelle?” Kat whispered into the darkness hoping the spirit of Julie’s grandmother had had time enough to regenerate just enough energy to communicate.

“Here,” came the faint reply though Kat sensed the spirit harbored some reluctance about addressing the topic she knew Kat would be raising.

“Do you know what happened tonight?”

“Yes. Blue eyes met brown.”

“But, it only lasted a little while then everything faded back to black. I thought…I mean…was it just a passing thing?” The hope she had felt in those moments of clear vision now felt as substantial as a puff of smoke. Until it was gone, she hadn’t really known how strongly that hope had built inside her.

“Or will I only be able to see if he is in the room?” Please let that not be the case. He seemed like a nice enough guy and looking at him was no hardship, either. Tall but not lanky, honey blond hair, expressive brown eyes that could go from warm to flat in an instant, kissable lips, and an adorable little cleft in his chin.

Still, when Estelle had said she would regain her sight, she had assumed the effect would not be conditional on his presence. Now she felt all churned up inside.

“Have faith, young Kathleen. That it happened once should generate confidence that it will happen again. Be your own catalyst.” Estelle’s voice faded from Kat’s mind.

Instead of answers, Kat was now left with more questions. Why did spirits always feel the need to be cagey? All this subterfuge was beyond annoying.

The bed, when she finally climbed into it, felt warm and inviting but sleep did not come easily and when it did, it brought a series of dreams that left Kat feeling unsettled.

She woke several times during the night to touch the button on her talking alarm clock thinking it must be nearly morning only to find that a bare handful of minutes had passed.

Each time, a softly slurred whisper faded as she came awake, not distinct enough to make out words though she thought it sounded a bit like, “I’m sorry.” So quiet was the sound she could never be sure if it was an odd way the wind flirted with the eaves or an actual voice speaking to her nearly every night.

Eventually, unseen out her window, a beautiful sunrise was just nearing its peak of colors when the tiredness of her body finally pulled her mind under and she slept dreamlessly until mid-morning.

_,.-'~'-.,_

A cup of tea held in both hands, Gustavia sat at the kitchen table and watched Fritzie and Lola out the window as they gamboled through the mounded snow liberally blanketing the back yard of Hayward House, her temporary home. The sight of the much larger Lola letting little bitty Fritzie break a trail to their favorite stand of bushes brought a smile to her face.

Fritzie might be on the large side for a Jack Russell terrier but it seemed no one had ever sent him the memo that he was not Lola-sized so even though the boxer towered over the smaller dog, he was always the leader of the pack.

Since neither dog loved wallowing through deep snow, they were quick to do their business and race back toward the deck. Gustavia hurried to open the sliding glass door just in time for both dogs to flash past her in a flurry of cold air and flying snow.

The two dogs made a quick circuit around the room to sniff out whether anything had changed during their brief time outside then settled down on the floor around Gustavia’s feet.

Hayward House had been passed down to Julie but it had been her great grandfather Julius who had had the biggest impact on the place. An inventor, he had made a small fortune off of one of his works. Some of the money had been spent to put his own unique stamp on his home.

By the time he was finished, both wings of his once perfect example of a large Greek revival home had been modified to add Gothic buttresses and spired rooflines. For the interior, he had wheeled deals with the owner of a large furniture store and a prominent designer. He gave them carte blanch to decorate the bedrooms and other