Charon's Crossing

"Yes," Kathryn said, her voice rising, "yes, I'm fine. I just..." Her words faded and died. Elvira Bonnyeman was staring at her but it was obvious that Matthew was right. She didn't see him. He might as well have been made of glass. "I, uh, I was talking to myself," Kathryn said with a quick smile. "It's an old habit of mine. I'm sorry if I startled you."

Elvira laughed with relief. "No, that's all right, I do it all the time. But I have to admit, you did have me goin' for a minute. Between what Hiram said and the stories..." Her hand flew to her lips. "Oh, I am sorry! I surely didn't mean—"

"There's no need to apologize." Kathryn smiled again, even more brightly than before. "Elvira, I was thinking..." What? What lie can you offer to get her out of here? Come on, Kathryn, come up with something clever. "I was thinking that—that you've done enough for one day."

"But I haven't. I just came out to see if you want me to take down the draperies at the library windows and hang 'em outside for a bit or if you'd rather I started on the dinin' room next."

"Yes," Kathryn said.

Matthew chuckled. " 'Yes' won't do it," he said softly.

"I mean... I mean, I'll have to think it over."

"Well, then, why don't I get started in the dinin' room? That chandelier surely needs washin', and—"

"Not today," Kathryn said quickly. She went up the steps, put her arm lightly around the older woman's shoulders and began walking her towards the house. "Thank you for all you've done today, Elvira. Now, you go on home and by the time you come back tomorrow, I'll have worked out a plan."

"If that's the way you want it, Miz Russell, but—"

"Call me Kathryn, please. And yes, yes, I think that's the best way to do this. I'll figure out in what order I want to get things done and..."

She kept talking as she led Elvira into the kitchen where she only gave her time to scoop up her purse. Then she hurried her through the foyer and out the front door to the car Elvira had left parked in the driveway. She kept talking, too, as she opened the car door and all but shoved the woman into the driver's seat. And she kept smiling, not just while she talked but while she waved a briskly cheerful good-bye.

When the car had rattled out of sight, the smile fell from Kathryn's lips. She took a deep breath, went back into the house—and walked smack into Matthew.

"Nice performance," he said with a lazy smile. "All that, just so we could be alone? I'm flattered."

"All that, so we could be alone," she said grimly. She put a hand out as he took a step towards her. "And so you could start talking, as fast and as hard as you can."

"Talk?" Matthew scowled and folded his arms over his chest. "You disappoint me, madam."

"Stuff it, Mr. McDowell."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This is my house you're haunting. And I want to know the reason."

Matthew stiffened. "It's none of your business."

"That's where you're wrong. It's very much my business. Cat Russell was my great-great... my ancestor, and you talk about her as if she were evil."

"An excellent choice of words, madam."

"Well, I want to know why."

A muscle knotted in his jaw. The last thing he wanted to do was bring Cat's perfidy to life again.

"It's a dull story, I'm afraid, one that would only bore you."

"Listen, Matthew, I'm not stupid. I've read your journal. I've spoken to people."

"And they remember me?" He grinned. "I'm flattered."

"What they remember," Kathryn said pointedly, "is that you were a pirate."

Matthew's mouth became a thin line.

"That is the second time you've accused me of piracy," he said tightly. "If you were a man—"