Page 80 of Whispers of Helena
The music shifts,a slower tune weaving through the air. I tilt my head toward the pool tables, offering Marcel a small smile. “Thank you for the dance.”
“You’re welcome.” His grin is boyish, untouched by the hands of time, even after haunting this county for seventy-five years.
As we move through the couples, I glance up at him. “If you don’t mind me asking…how did you die?”
He stops just off the edge of the dance floor, the low lights casting long shadows over his face. “We were bringing the herd in one afternoon, and one went rogue. I tried to stop it, but it charged my horse. Spooked him bad. Threw me right off.” His lips twitch, like the memory is distant but still sharp. “Bull impaled me.”
A chill rolls down my spine. “Goodness, Marcel.” My mind conjures the gruesome image, and goosebumps rise along my arms.
He only shrugs. “It was my time, I guess.”
I hesitate, then press further. “Why did you stay here?”
His gaze softens. “I came to the ranch when Silas’s grandparents ran it. I was sixteen, my parents died from tuberculosis, and I needed work and a home. Ada and Frank gave me both. I love that land. I put roots down.”
“Don’t you ever wonder what you’re missing?”
“Heaven?” He shakes his head, his expression steady. “Nah. I know it’s there when I’m ready. God’s saving me a spot.”
A crease forms between my brows. “How can you be so sure?”
“The Good Shepherd never forgets a lamb. I’m here now, wandering off from the herd, but He’ll come collect me when He’s ready.”
His faith sinks into my bones, unwavering and sure. If everything I’ve learned is true, then he isn’t just speaking hope, he’s speaking truth.
I manage a smile. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Marcel.”
He claps a hand to my back. “You’re welcome. Just know, if you need to wander a bit, the Shepherd will come looking for you, too.”
I scan the room for Ruth, but she’s nowhere in sight. My stomach knots. “Where’d Ruth go?”
Marcel tilts his head toward the bar. “She’s talking to Everly.”
The name stops my breath cold. My pulse kicks up as I turn my head. I see Bennett first, but then my gaze drifts to the men around him and my chest tightens.
My hand flies to my sternum. “The men with him. They’re spirits.”
Marcel’s expression darkens. “We should probably get Silas out of here.”
I nod, forcing myself to focus. “Right. I’ll get Ruth.”
Marcel steps back, his tone quiet but firm. “Just remember—if you can see them, they can see you, too.”
A slow dread prickles my skin. “Got it.”
We split off. My feet carry me toward the bar, my focus locked onRuth. I don’t see the man stepping into my path until I hear him call out to me.
“Caroline Hayes?”
The voice cuts through the music, stopping me dead in my tracks.
I see Ruth stiffen, whipping around. Our eyes lock.
I keep moving, pretending not to hear him.
“I haven’t seen you in years,” he continues, stepping closer. “Is Silas with you?”
My husband’s name tightens around my ribs like a vice.
