The Haunting of Ashton David Page 8

He looked to Cameron, who was closest in age to himself. He’d been the only brother who’d seemed to care about Ashton’s plight, but Ashton had treated him with reasonable disregard just as he’d treated everyone else. Only Cameron was the most affectionate of the David clan and he’d needed their connection these last ten years. A connection he’d never received.

  “Cameron, I’m sorry for turning you away for so long. I can’t believe you came here after the way I’ve acted.”

  “I’ll never stop trying to reach you. You’re my brother. We’re family.”

  They hugged. Ashton whispered, “I love you.” A sentiment Cameron couldn’t return because he was too choked up to speak through his tears.

  “Ashton.” A gruff voice reverberated from the door, stealing his attention.

  Mr. Clark stood, waiting. “I’d like to speak with you.” He gestured beyond the door.

  He followed Mr. Clark out to the receiving bay where he watched the man light a cigarette. He inhaled the first draw like it was the thing he’d been searching for his entire life. “Please don’t tell the family about this.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I realize you’ve been through hell and back. I also know you blame me for part of that. I’m not trying to prolong your suffering by bringing up old pain, but now it seems you’re connected to my little girl. As you’ve almost cost her the very life I gave, just what are your intentions with her?”

  “I understand your anger and worry. I love Harmony. I was feeding the livestock out in the back pasture when she was stung on the porch. I’ve already decided that she and I will move from there to the cottage. I’m going to have repairs made, but I want us to start our lives with a fresh home. One that we cherish and is full of love—that’s the prom night cottage.”

  “That’s all well and good, but I don’t want her living with you. Unless you’re committed, you will cut her loose.”

  “I’m committed! I’m prepared to ask for her hand in marriage.”

  Mr. Clark didn’t react to that and Ashton wondered if he’d heard it.

  “The field of study she chose was chosen because of you. When she left she said she had to attend the Cornerstone School of Behavioral Neuroscience so that she could bring back her knowledge and save you from yourself. I acquiesced at the time because it was the only thing she’d focus on after the accident and the breakup.” He took a drag from the cigarette between his fingers. “She still wasn’t happy. There was a shadow that followed her around. Recently, however I started to notice something I hadn’t seen in her since she was just a teen—hope. I realize it has everything to do with you. I wish it didn’t, but I’m not such a fool that I don’t realize her connection to you is bone deep. I’ll give you my blessing, and I’ll even walk her down the aisle, but I swear to God if you leave her again I’ll come after you and when I’m done you’ll be able to join your father.”

  Ashton inhaled deeply and exhaled loudly. He knew if he had a daughter he’d react in the exact same way. “I understand, sir. And I won’t let you down this time. I give you my word, such as it is.” Ashton vowed to prove himself to her and her family, and to his own brothers.

  Chapter 10

  They married in front of the cottage, a canvas so perfect it rivaled those of the too-sweet variety his mother had always liked. He’d thought of them before, but in a negative way. Now that he was happy, he wasn’t so bothered by the artist’s renderings.

  Next to him, Harmony was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. In the woods as they were, her beauty reminded him of the celestial wood elf.

  As they exchanged vows, their families had united under the Louisiana sun. He thought it fitting that most people in attendance had at one time or another shared a fence line. He’d been estranged from his cousins and his brothers, and yet they’d still turned out to support him. He would spend his life earning back their grace. He’d start with his new wife, to whom he now owed his life and his happiness.

  The reception was held at the plantation. His cousins were in charge of the food so that meant crabs, shrimp, and—since the crawfish season was upon them— crawfish etouffee, fried crawfish, crawfish fritters, crawfish balls, crawfish fettuccini, and there was one more that he couldn’t recall.

  Cameron was in charge of the music and he’d gone all out, hiring a zydeco band and even having a temporary dance floor erected behind the house where currently several people were swinging out to the creole beat.

  They had only been married for minutes and already her dance card was full. He’d attempted to cut in twice, but was denied. He took a seat at a nearby table where at least he could watch her. Cameron and Gabriel joined him. Currently she danced with Ethan. Before Ethan, she’d danced with her father.

  “Why so grumpy, Gus?” Gabriel asked.

  “I just want to dance with my wife.”

  “So go tell them to get lost.”

  “I can’t do that anymore. She’s happy and I want to be the man she deserves.”

  Cameron smiled. Gabriel scoffed.

  “Are you ready with my song?” Ashton asked.

  “I’ve got it right here.” Cameron tapped his pocket, his guitar case propped against the table.

  A vision in white lace appeared before him. “Hey.” She leaned in and pressed her lips sweetly to his. “Why are you sitting here?”

  “I was just admiring the view.”

  “I wanna dance with you.”

  Ashton was all smiles now. That’s all it took these days to turn his frown upside down. “Actually, I have something I’d like to do, if you don’t mind.”

  She cocked her head, curious. “What?” Her dimpled smile twinkled at him.

  “I gave Cameron some words and he set them to music for us. I thought we could dance to it. If you want.” He shrugged.

  “Of course I want.” She pulled him along. They stopped to use the microphone at the DJ’s station.

  Shit, he hadn’t been prepared to speak. The DJ handed him the microphone. “Hello.” His voice echoed around the room. He’d never spoken into a mic before and the effect was unsettling. “Um, I’d like to ask for a favor. I uh need the dance floor for a little something special. This is a song I wrote that uh sort of catalogs, in an abridged version, um our time together, or some of it anyway.” Damn, what was he saying?

  Next to him she smiled and squeezed his hand and he knew everything was wonderful because she existed in that space next to him. “I wrote these words for my beautiful wife”—he spoke as he gazed into her eyes—”My brother Cameron set them to music for me. I love you, Monet. Forever.”

  “Hello there. I hope you all are having a great time at the David-Clark wedding. We’d like to thank our cousins for the bountiful feast tonight. I’ve never eaten so well or so much. And we’d like to thank the Clarks for—well for giving us Harmony, who managed to give my brother back to me. I love both of you more than you could ever know.”

  Ashton’s eyes teared up immediately. His words hit hard. He was sorry for leaving his little brother to fend for himself after the death of their parents. But he’d turned out well, hadn’t he? Yes, Ashton was proud of Cameron, who was a born showman. He was quite the successful indy artist. In fact, his songs could be heard in three different Hollywood movies. His music was dark, deep, and mysterious and sometimes Ashton didn’t get it, but that didn’t matter. His brother was so gifted some highly regarded musicians had said they’d sell their souls to the devil for half his talent.

  He strummed a few chords, testing the acoustics. “So this song is called Day One and is dedicated to my brother and his beautiful wife.” He strummed a few more chords. “Did I mention Ashton wrote the lyrics, I only added the chords?” He strummed again. “Okay, Day One.”

  Cameron’s music could be haunting, and the intro certainly was, but by the end the song evolved, as did Ashton’s and Harmony’s relationship, into a more upbeat sound.

  I saw you standing near the fence talking to your horse,
>
  You were young and bright and everything I wasn’t.

  The wind blew and carried your scent to me,

  Vanilla and watermelon to haunt my days.

  But that was day one,

  And now you’re gone,

  Living happily,

  Learning at Berkeley.

  You saw me in the field falling from the top,

  I was the greatest bastard but you were forgiveness.

  The ghosts haunted me and I screamed,

  You and I prepared to fight, standing tall.

  But it’s day two,

  And you’ve returned.

  To take on the beast,

  With your cottage east.

  There we are uniting in front of a floral canvas,

  You’re in white, I’m wearing charcoal,

  We exchanged vows, I promise to,

  One day I’ll be deserving of your grace,

  But it’s day three,

  And you’re still here,

  Vowing to stand beside me.

  Love, life, family.

  Love, life, family,

  Love, life, family.

  Love, life, family.

  In his arms Harmony cried and trembled. “I can’t believe you wrote that,” she said stuffily. He passed her a handkerchief. She blew her nose. “It was lovely. I”—she shook her head and cried into the hankie.

  “I’m sorry, Monet. I never meant to make you cry at our wedding.”

  “I’ve been crying all day, but it’s only because I’m so happy.”

  Ashton looked toward Cameron, who watched the duo with wide eyes. Ashton shrugged, and Cameron offered a supportive smile.

  Harmony blew her nose again, and then walked up to Cameron, thanking him for giving life to such a beautiful gift.

  Back in Ashton’s arms, she danced three songs in a row with him. When she whispered that her feet hurt he pulled her from the dance floor, explaining to those waiting and hoping for a dance that her feet were sore.

  At the table Gabriel joined them. “I uh, I sort of have something. I mean if you think it’s too hideous to grace your walls then you’re probably right, but such as it is.”

  He pulled one of his famous white horse paintings from beneath the table and set it in front of them. “So this is A Cottage in Bloom. I painted the two of you in the garden.”

  He’d painted one horse blue and one pink. It was how he differentiated between male and female in his work. Between them was a basket of hydrangeas.

  “I thought I’d keep adding to it. Make it the Ash and Monet exhibit, so as your family expands you can expect more paintings from me. Hang them, throw them in the barn, the garage, the trash. Whatever.” He nervously chuckled.

  Harmony’s hand grasped his across the table. “Gabriel, it’s beautiful. It will grace our living room wall so that we can look upon it daily.”

  Gabriel had several galleries along the coastal towns. His biggest was in New Orleans. His work was well received and once again Ashton was astonished at how successful his brothers had become while he wasn’t looking.

  The sound of pinging glass had heads turning toward the DJ, where Max stood prepared to issue a toast. “Hi there. Maximilian David, I’ve prepared a short toast, so if you will, please indulge me. So we’ve all heard the old adage that a good woman can make a good man want to be an even better man. Right? Sure, you’ve heard that. That’s probably true. I don’t have any evidence for or against it, but I want to tell you a little bit more about a good woman. One who doesn’t step in and try to change you—no—but one who steps in, takes your hand in hers, and jumps off the cliff with you. That’s right, a good woman isn’t afraid to dig in and do hard labor, get her hands dirty, and roll in the mire in order to save the one that she loves. I was convinced this woman did not exist, and then I met Harmony Clark David. She is a good woman. We can all only hope to one day find her equal for ourselves. Thank you.”

  Harmony dried her eyes. “You and your brothers are wreaking havoc on my wedding day makeup.”

  Professor Maximilian David’s philosophical waxings had tears collecting in Ashton’s eyes. He’d like to have those words written down and framed because they absolutely described the fierceness of his wife.

  “We’ve heard from all but one and I don’t think he’ll be available any time soon.” Ashton pointed to his youngest brother Zach, who was surrounded by a throng of women as he regaled them with witty anecdotes of his daily and nightly escapades and charmed them with his I’m-completely-aloof-and-unavailable-to-you–but-keep-trying demeanor.

  When finally the best day of his life was at its end, he was able to take his wife to bed in their little cottage. It was the perfect end to the best memory he’d ever made.

  Epilogue

  It was their second Christmas in the cottage and Harmony was busy wrapping the gift she’d had made for Ashton. She was glad she’d sat for the boudoir pictures when she had because her body was about to be changing.

  After she attached the ribbon to his gifts, she set them beneath their small tree in the living room. Everything about the cottage was small. In fact, she could be at one end and he at the other and they could carry on a conversation and she loved it.

  They’d given access to the plantation to the River Road Historical Society. However, restorations were still being made, so it had yet to open for touring.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs. David.” From behind her his arms enclosed her waist. “Merry Christmas, little David.”

  “After we tell my parents, we can tell your cousins.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Harmony and Ashton, along with her family, had been invited to a shrimp boil at Britton David’s home, which made up the third house in the triangle-shaped acreage they all shared.

  She dressed in a black velvet dress that sported a large red velvet bow for the waist.

  “You’re beautiful.” A cool piece of jewelry was placed on her neck. Ashton attempted to fasten it. “Hold up your hair.” She complied. Once he had the necklace fastened he bent and kissed her neck.

  She impatiently skipped to the mirror attached to the chest of drawers in their bedroom and leaned in. “A gold heart locket.” She smiled.

  “Let me show you.” He opened it. Leaning in for a second time she saw their prom picture on one side and their wedding picture on the other. “My two favorite memories. I love it. Thank you, Ash.” She sweetly kissed him.

  “Do you want yours?”

  He smiled and eagerly nodded like a little boy and she giggled. “Wait here. What I’m giving you is for the bedroom.” His eyes widened at her admission.

  She carried the basket that housed the series of pictures. Placing it on his lap she watched as he tore through the wrapping paper.

  When he set eyes on the first picture he growled low in the back of his throat. She loved that she caused that reaction in him. She peeked over to see which picture held his rapt attention. It was the one where she’d posed on her stomach, wearing nothing at all, exposing her back and buttocks. She knew he liked that feature on her body so she wanted to exploit it. He set that one next to his bedside table and tore open another picture where she’d posed wearing provocative lingerie of pale pink lace. He groaned again and placed that one on the chest of drawers.

  His eyes on her were electric—large black pupils rimmed in the brightest green. He blatantly adjusted himself in front of her and sat back down to open the next picture. She’d posed in her wedding lingerie—white lace garters, stockings, lace panties, and a corset. It was taken to look like a candid shot of her deep in thought, her face turned away from the camera as she contemplated a life with Ashton.

  A tear rolled down his face. It wasn’t the reaction she’d been expecting.

  “Ash?”

  He turned and she sat next to him on the bed. “Don’t you like it?”

  “Baby, it’s beautiful. I sometimes can’t believe how happy I am. I’m afraid it’s all a dream and I’ll wake up burni
ng in that bed, my father’s laughter all around. Ow!”

  He rubbed where she’d pinched him hard. “What was that for?”

  “If this were a dream, you would have just awakened when I pinched you.”

  He laughed, and then kissed her, pulling her down to the bed. “Hey, don’t mess up my hair. We’re going to be taking pictures at my folks’.”

  He reclined on his side next to her, caressing her belly that carried the child they’d made.

  Her finger under his chin had him looking at her. “This is reality. No more nightmares. I was thinking I would like to name him Benjamin after your father and of course it is your middle name. Little Benjamin David.”

  Her hand laced through his at her stomach.

  “I like that idea.”

  “I love you, Ash.”

  “I love you, Monet. Take a look at what’s hanging above the headboard.”

  She gasped. “Water lilies.” A framed print of Monet’s classic graced the wall of their bedroom.

  “Monet, like you, makes every landscape beautiful and fresh. My life with you has been like an endless spring where everything is always in bloom.”

  “I think we need to make another baby.”

  He giggled. “What about your hair?”

  “Forget my hair. I don’t care how the pictures turn out.”

  Ashton and Harmony would enjoy a long life together, free of ghosts and full of love and family.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you enjoyed The Haunting of Ashton David. It is part of my new series entitled, David Family Saga: Bayou Billionaires. The David cousins are more provocative, more rich, and more tormented than their seafood-loving kinfolk. I want to do something for my devoted readers and so I am offering the book for .99 cents. Make sure to pick up a copy for a spooky good time.

  If you would like to know more about the Davids, you can start reading about them in Damaged, part of the Bayou Rogues saga. I’ve left you the first chapter below. It’s a little spicy.

  As an author, I love feedback. Candidly, you are the reason that I explored Parker’s future and now we have the Davids. So, tell me what you liked, what you loved, even what you didn’t like. I’d love to hear from you. You can write me at ginawatson@mac.com and visit me on the web at ginawatson.net.