Page 44 of In Dangerous Water

I patted his thigh. “But that’s probably expecting too much from a nice boy like you.”

“Do you think so?” he asked.

I merely smiled.

To my shock, Tim shoved the remains of our lunch right off the table. The paper plates went flying as he rose to his feet and yanked me out of my chair.

The look on his face was intense as he dropped me on the now clear surface.

“How sturdy do you think this table is?” he growled.

“I hope that we’re about to find out,” I said breathlessly.

“Let’s,” he said. Stepping between my legs, he nudged them farther apart.

I yanked his briefs aside. He shoved my t-shirt out of the way, and then he pushed his way inside of me.

“Yes!” I cried. After all of our earlier exertions my core was hyper-sensitive. Gripping his arms for balance, I held on for dear life.

***

Turns out that the table was plenty sturdy. It only wobbled once.

“Youwildman,” I said in wonder, a while later as we clung to each other.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking down at me in concern. “Was it too much?”

I kissed him. “It was perfect.”

“Let’s go take a shower,” Tim said, and before I could guess what he was about, he grabbed my arm, ducked under it and tossed me over his shoulder. Giving my butt a playful smack, he carted me down the hall.

I laughed all the way to the bathroom.

Afterward, we got dressed, tidied up the kitchen, and went for a walk hand-in-hand around the gardens and grounds together.

I was feeling very mellow as we went traipsing through the woods. It was an area I was familiar with—a spot where an old pond had been filled in. There was no lingering negativity, I was relieved to discover. It felt peaceful, clean and quiet, the way a woodland should feel. I also noticed new trees had been planted, and as we walked the area, there were signs of animals making their home here.

“Wildlife is returning to the area,” I said to Tim, pointing out deer tracks.

“It wasn’t here before?”

“According to Gabriella, this part of the property was dying off. The pond was stagnant—”

“That’s right,” he said, turning to take in the whole woods. “Thisis where they drained that pond...after the near drowning.”

“Yes,” I said. “It was Alex. Drusilla Midnight-Rivers’ boy.”

Tim nodded. “I remember now. That’s why they drained the pond. A few weeks later, when they did, the crew found the human remains. I hadn’t been on the scene, but I recall the sheriff talking about how he had Arianna asses the remains, after the ME said the bones were at least a hundred years old.” He shook his head.

“And using DNA,” I said, “they ended up identifying them as belonging to the missing Victorian era bride of Pierre-Michel Marquette.”

“That was a huge story when it broke,” Tim said. “And if the pond wouldn’t have been drained, the mystery of what happened to Bridgette Ames would have never been solved. I mean we’ll never know how she died, but at least—”

“Tim.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “We do know how she died. Bridgette Ames had an accident while she was riding. A stable hand didn’t fasten her sidesaddle correctly and she fell. He dumped her body in the pond and weighed it down with rocks to cover up his culpability. That was one of the reasons her ghost was so angry.”

“How do you knowthat?”

“I know because two years ago, me, my sisters and grandmother, we all participated in a ritual along with the daughters of Midnight. We formed a Grand Coven and banished the spirit of the bride. We sent her to the other side, so she would stop haunting the grounds, and more importantly so she’d be unable to lure anymore children into danger.”

---