Finding Emmaline (A Blackwood Series Book 1) Read online

  Finding Emmaline.

  A Blackwood Series Novel.

  By J.R. Byers.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or used fictitiously.

  Published by J.R. Byers, 2021.

  Finding Emmaline.

  A Blackwood Series Novel.

  Second eBook Edition. August 1, 2021.

  Copyright © 2021 J.R. Byers.

  Written by J.R. Byers.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Finding Emmaline (A Blackwood Series Novel, #1)

  Prologue.

  Chapter 1. Whispers In the Dark.

  Chapter 2. A Step Out of Time.

  Chapter 3. It’s A Snow Thing.

  Chapter 4. Yep. Crazy!

  Chapter 5. The Coming of the Storm.

  Chapter 6. Tortured Dreams And Immortality.

  Chapter 7. Magnificent Creatures and A Common bond.

  Chapter 8. Curiosity and Bad Noodles.

  Chapter 9. No One’s Perfect.

  Chapter 10. Neon Pinks and a Damn Fine Rocking Horse.

  Chapter 11. Revelations.

  Chapter 12. Mrs. Campbell’s Homemade Candy.

  Chapter 13. Old Friends.

  Chapter 14. Sage advice.

  Chapter 15. Welcome Home William.

  Chapter 16. Avoiding Temptation.

  Chapter 17. Temper Tantrums and Fury.

  Chapter 18. A Fine Match.

  Chapter 19. Nervous Expectations.

  Chapter 20. May The Lord Bless This Union.

  Chapter 21. With you,...there’s love.

  Chapter 22. Delightful Revelations.

  Chapter 23. Delicate Sensibilities and Lusty Appetites.

  Chapter 24. Real Estate and A Wedding Gift.

  Chapter 25. Promises Broken.

  Chapter 26. Wenching And Wayward Propositions.

  Chapter 27. Superstition And Lore.

  Chapter 28. Seers And Healers.

  Chapter 29. Useful Vocations.

  Chapter 30. Shattered Dreams.

  Chapter 31. Ghosts.

  Chapter 32. Among The Stones.

  Chapter 33. Boxing Up Memories.

  Chapter 34. Late Night Reflections.

  Part One.

  A Glimpse of Hope.

  Prologue.

  Brushing a hand across my cheek, he pushed a strand of soft hair behind my ear. “I’ll be back before you know it love,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes at his touch, turning my face into his palm. “Come with me to the docks.” he beseeched, as he had every day since he’d decided to go. “I want your beautiful face to be the last thing I see as we leave port,” he murmured, stroking a finger over my cheek. “It will give me something to hold on to, as I lie awake on the long, cold nights,” Leaning in, he placed his lips to mine, “wishing you were there beside me,” he whispered into my mouth.

  But even as I relished his kiss, I knew what my answer must once again be.

  I pulled away, gazing up into his tender, emerald-green eyes. “I cannot watch you leave William,” I whispered brokenly. “I know I should be stronger, but to watch you sail away from me,...I couldn’t bear it.”

  His eyes roamed my face, and I knew he was committing every detail, every curve, to memory, before he sighed deeply. “Willful English lass,” he teased.

  “Stubborn Scot,” I mumbled. And there it was. The smile that would keep me going on the lonely days that loomed ahead. When I yearned for nothing more than to hold him in my arms. I needed to do so now, just one last time.

  I reached up and pulled him down to me, hugging him close to bury my face in his neck as I wrapped my arms around his massive shoulders. “You’re lucky I love you as much as I do,” I whispered into his ear.

  “Hmmm, that I ken love,” he growled softly back, turning his face to my cheek.“ And for that,...I will be forever grateful.”

  We held each other a moment longer, both of us doing our best not to dwell on how difficult the next month was going to be. Then, with a muffled groan, he reluctantly pulled away to place his forehead against mine. “My men are waiting, love. I must go.”

  I felt the tears gliding down my cheeks as I nodded, then pulled out of his arms, watching from the bed as he strode to the door, gathering his heavy coat and the haversack from the chair by the dressing table.

  Hooking the heavy bag over his shoulder, he walked back to the bed, and my heart ached as he leaned down and kissed me one last time, his tongue delving deeply between my lips to ravage my mouth, until with a moan of regret, he pulled away, turning to stride swiftly to the door. “William,” I called out, and he turned back as I took a breath, attempting to strengthen my resolve. “You come back to me,” I demanded calmly.

  And as I sat there, staring into his vivid green eyes, he made a vow.

  “I will always come back to you Emmaline,” he promised. “Always.”

  Chapter 1. Whispers In the Dark.

  Emily.

  He’s coming Emily. Wake up....

  The soft, whispering voice echoed in my ear as I was drifting to sleep.

  Jerking awake, I laid there, disoriented, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to decide if I’d actually heard something, or if I’d been dreaming.

  You know, that place where you’re not quite sure if you’re asleep or awake? I hated that place. It always left me on edge and took forever to get back to sleep.

  The house was eerily quiet as I listened, but the only sounds I heard were the soft snoring of Daisy, my long-haired Chihuahua as she slept at the foot of my bed, and the wind blowing as rain fell in soft sheets outside my window.

  Deciding it was probably just the leaves swishing around in the yard, I pulled the covers over my shoulders, closing my eyes as I snuggled back in, and I was almost asleep again when suddenly I heard a light tapping outside the balcony doors.

  My eyes popped open at the sound. I laid there frozen for half a minute before I summoned the nerve to turn over and look towards the glass doors.

  Moonlight filtered through the darkened rain as it drizzled down the panes in tiny rivers, casting shadowy lines on the walls of the bedroom. Squinting my eyes to the small double doors that led to my balcony, I was relieved to see they were still securely closed.

  Thunderstorms. I loved them, but they always made me a little bit jumpy.

  Settling back in, my head no sooner hit my pillow before I heard another noise. Softer this time, barely there. It didn’t sound like wind, or rain, but something was definitely there.

  I waited, listening. The house was so still, so quiet, the only sound came from the storm brewing outside. But something was off. I didn’t know what, just... something.

  Trying to decide if I was just imagining things or not, I heard it again. Still faint, but louder this time. I laid there, contemplating. Get up and see what it was, or go back to sleep?

  I huffed a tired sigh. It was probably just Duff, Mrs. Dougal’s cat from next door, bumping against the windows downstairs, trying to find a dry, cozy place to sleep. Mrs. Dougal was a sweet old lady, and I loved her dearly, but she really ought to consider making Duff an inside cat.

  The fluffy white Persian liked to prowl at nig
ht, and she was notorious for lurking around my back porch.

  I sank back into my pillow, trying to get comfortable. I hadn’t even closed my eyes this time didn’t before I heard the sound again. More distinct now. And closer. Much, much closer.

  I stayed perfectly still, my eyes wide open now as my ears strained to listen. Only a second passed before I heard it again. That was no cat prowling around outside, or something hitting my windows. Someone was crying. Softly. Quietly. But those were definitely tears. Women’s tears.

  My blood went cold, and my stomach dropped as I realized there must be someone in my house. But how? I knew I had checked all the locks on the doors and windows before I went to bed.

  Frozen with fear, my heart pounding, I couldn’t move. But I knew I had to. Because if there was someone in here with me, I’d be damned if he was gonna murder me in my sleep.

  As I laid there listening, my breath coming faster, I waited for the sound to come again.

  When a few moments passed and I heard nothing, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart. Just your imagination, Emily.

  But of course, as what inevitably happens, I couldn’t get the sound out of my head. What if someone really was in the house with me?

  As I was debating that particularly uncomfortable thought and trying to decide if I should grab my cell from my nightstand and call the police, the sound came again. Closer this time. Like, right outside my door, close.

  My heart racing so fast now I could barely breath, I turned my head on the pillow, eyeing the cell phone on the nightstand. Then another thought occurred.

  Say I did call for help? What would I say to them when they got here? “Sorry I called you in the middle of the night, but I thought I heard a woman crying in my hallway?” Yeah, and when they checked the house and found it all locked up and no one there, I’d look like an idiot. Just a single, hysterical female, afraid of every little noise from a rainstorm. And the last thing I needed was another, “You need a man to protect you” lecture.

  My eyes went to the door again. Sitting up, I tossed the sheet and comforter to the side, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Flipping the bedside lamp on... why do people in horror movies never think of that?... I stood and was preparing to creep out into the hallway to check things out, maybe go downstairs and check the windows again when I stopped, then hastily tip-toed to the closet.

  Quietly opening the door, I reached in for the baseball bat that lay propped underneath the light switch. My sister Eveline had given it to me when I first moved into the house, because growing up with five sisters, Ev. was all about safety. But knowing I would never have a gun in my home, she said the bat was the next best thing, preaching to me that it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Grateful now for my sister’s paranoia, I grabbed the heavy wooden stick, took a deep breath, and went back to the door. Quietly turning the knob, I stepped out into the hallway. The crying grew louder. What had started out as soft, weeping sobs had turned into deep cries of sorrow. But whereas before, the sound had been right outside my bedroom, it now sounded distant, farther away.

  It was an eerie sound. Like echoes whispering through a long tunnel.

  But where was it coming from?

  As I looked up and down the hallway, bat raised and ready to strike anything that moved, the lights in the hall flickered. The air suddenly felt heavy, charged. Like static electricity after a storm, causing the hair on my neck and arms to stand up.

  Taking a shaky breath, I called out a squeaky, “Hello?” Then realizing how pathetically feeble that sounded, I cleared my throat before calling out a louder. “Is someone there?”

  The crying abruptly stopped, leaving an unnerving silence behind. It was like someone had flipped a switch. The air felt lighter, and the house seemed to settle with a quiet calmness.

  I stood for a moment, looking around the hallway. My legs wouldn’t move, but I slowly lowered the bat to my side.

  A moment later, I heard the sound of thunder rolling across the sky and knew the storm was passing.

  I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. I was shaken, and I didn’t mind admitting it, even if it was just to myself.

  Suddenly, the narrow hallway turned icy cold. I opened my mouth with a gasp at the sudden chill, and an icy mist whispered from between my lips as I exhaled. It was so cold. Like a window had been suddenly flung open on a hard winter’s night. But that was impossible. It was already May, and while it still got a bit chilly at night, it wasn’t nearly cold enough for the temperature to drop so low. I stood frozen in fear, my breath coming faster. Shaking, I was about to take a step back into my room when an eerie voice split the silence like a knife.

  It echoed around me. “Do not fear lass. All will be well again,” it whispered wistfully. It was a woman’s voice. Soft, faint, lilting. And English?

  I looked around, expecting to see someone standing in the hallway with me, but there was no one there.

  “He is coming...” the voice repeated, fading down the quiet hallway on a soft whisper, taking the chill of the air with it. My breathing returned to normal, the iciness gone. A peacefulness came over me, so sudden it left me weak. I slumped back against the wall, my whole body shaking. What the hell just happened?

  Trying to calm my ragged nerves, I dropped the bat to the floor, then ran my hands through my hair, drawing a deep breath into my lungs.

  Walking backwards, because I was honestly too scared to turn my back to the hall, I stepped back into my bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind me. On impulse, I threw the lock before dropping the bat in the corner and making my way back to bed.

  Sitting on the side, I stared at the brass doorknob. I fully expected it to start turning any second, as visions of some creepy dude standing on the other side with a knife in his hand, ready to hack my head off, marched through my brain.

  With a disgusted sigh, I rolled my eyes. “You have got to stop watching tv before bed Emily,” I grumbled. I was addicted to paranormal reality shows. I just loved them. Other than reading a good book, they were my only other vice. Entertaining yes, but not really suitable recreation before bedtime.

  Deciding it really must have been my mind playing tricks on me, I finally crawled under the covers. The room, which had been comfortable before, was now icy cold, and I pulled the sheet and comforter up to my chin. Reaching up, I fluffed my pillow beneath my head.

  As I laid there, listening to the house settle as the storm passed, I couldn’t close my eyes. I just stared up at the ceiling, thinking about what just happened.

  Had that been real? Or had I been dreaming? I wasn’t prone to nightmares, never had been. But it had certainly seemed real.

  Daisy, my long-haired Chihuahua, chose that moment to roll over with a jaw popping yawn, then with a full body stretch, she sauntered up to plop down next to me with a huff.

  I smiled as I stroked her soft little head. “Some watch dog you are.” I mumbled.

  Her response was to treat me to another yawn before she promptly turned to her side and went back to sleep. I wrapped a hand around her silky soft belly, pulling her to me and snuggling her warm little body to mine.

  My mind was racing. I couldn’t get that voice out of my head. It was haunting. Beautiful, but haunting.

  I looked over at the clock on my bedside table and groaned. Four-thirty.

  Great. Seven a.m. was gonna be a nightmare.

  Chapter 2. A Step Out of Time.

  I slept right through my alarm that morning. I didn’t even remember turning it off.

  And now, here it was, nine o’clock, and I was just dragging myself out of bed.

  I put my hand over my eyes with a sigh. Get it together, Em.

  Throwing the bedclothes off, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I was exhausted.

  After my dream, or whatever the hell that was last night, I hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. My exhaustion finally took over some time around six o’clock. I think.

&n
bsp; The little sleep I’d gotten felt like nothing at all, and I was draggin ass this morning.

  Forcing myself out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom and hit the shower.

  After I dressed, I went to the kitchen to make coffee. As I filled the machine with water, I checked my voicemail on my cell. So far, there was only one. From Ev. I waited for the beep. “Happy birthday, big sister!” she exclaimed. “On my way to a conference in Los Angeles, but I’ll be back by this weekend. Mom wants everyone at her house Saturday night for dinner to celebrate. Love ya babe!”

  I hit the end button, then put “Dinner with the fam.” into the Saturday calendar on my phone.

  Filling my “Real Men Wear Kilts” mug, I added sugar, then headed out the door to make the short walk to my store, a sweet little antique shop right in the heart of Loveland.

  As it was literally right across the street from my house, it took only moments to get there.

  When I did, I stopped for a moment to look up at the sign hanging above the door.

  A Step Out of Time. This was my store. Mine and mine alone.

  I’d always dreamed of one day owning my own antique store, and after many years of teaching history at the local college, I’d decided to do just that. And this place was perfect. As soon as I saw it, I’d fallen in love. With its picture-perfect windows, and wraparound porch, the little A-frame had been exactly what I’d been looking for.

  Not too small, not too big. Just the right amount of space I needed for my store. So, I’d made a bid, and less than a week later, it was mine. I’d immediately hired a crew to clear out the space, and once that was done, I began the remodel.

  That had been three years ago now, and I still felt a sense of pride and satisfaction every time I walked through those doors.

  I looked down at my watch and grimaced. Today, unfortunately, I’d be walking through the doors of my dream store late. Very late. And that never happened.

  The store opened at nine, and I tried to be there at least an hour before. I liked the quiet time, the calm before the craziness of the day began. It gave me time to have my coffee, get organized for the day. But after last night, my butt was dragging, and with a tired sigh, I headed up the wooden steps.