Free Resurrecting Harry by Constance Phillips Page B

made his head spin. The biggest part of what drove Erich’s desire for Bess was Harry’s memories of their past, but somehow, it was more than that too.
    Only because it was better for the long-term goal, he kept his hands at his side and his thoughts to himself.
    Bess waved off Martin’s suggestion and his hand. “I found my way here. I can find my way home. I’ve been doing it with and without Harry for quite some time.”
    The bells above the door rang like a joyous celebration, marking Gail and Martin’s exit, but also like church bells at a funeral. Watching Bess leave with the Coopers — the last people on the planet he wanted her to spend time with — was a death knell all on its own.
    “Mr. Welch!” Will’s booming voice shook his attention from the door. “Where’s your mind, son? I called your name three times.”
    “I’m sorry. I was thinking about Mrs. Houdini and those people she was with.” Erich’s words sounded acidic to his own ears, even though he tried to hide how he really thought. As far as Will was concerned, Erich had no basis to dislike Martin.
    “You’re right to be concerned.”
    “So, you don’t think too much of that doctor, either?”
    Will shook his head slowly and then walked behind the counter. Opening the till, he began counting down the register and putting the day’s profits into a dingy, canvas bag. “I used to think he was harmless enough. Arrogant and a little foolish, maybe, but not malicious.”
    “But now?”
    He shook his head. “All this spirituality taradiddle. Bess is still in mourning and Gail is taking advantage of that. From my perspective, she doesn’t care how much it hurts Bess, as long as the name Gail Cooper ends up carrying all the weight and respect she believes it deserves. Harry wouldn’t like what those two are doing, not one single bit.”
    Erich nodded and leaned against the door frame. As he watched, Bess stood on the corner, conversing with the couple. “That poor woman is lost, and they are only leading her further astray.”
    “I used to think Harry exaggerated the intentions of those two, never believed they were acting spitefully, but now, watching them with Bess, I have to wonder.”  Will paused, scraped his hand across his jaw. “Do me a favor. Make sure she’s always treated like a princess in here. It’s the least I can do for my old friend.”

Chapter Eight
     
    Bess waved as Martin and Gail pulled away in the shiny, new Studebaker. In a muted red, it was one of the first cars she’d seen that wasn’t classic black. Some might say the color was ostentatious, but then flashy described Gail to a tee, and it was no secret Martin enjoyed showering gifts on his second wife.
    Ten years had passed since Martin’s first wife, Louise, had died. Bess had never known the other woman, but Martin and Joseph spoke of her often. Both of them described her as very different from Gail. Sort of like how Erich was different from Harry, yet he stirred the same emotions in her.
    But when you looked beyond the physical, Erich wasn’t all that different from her husband.
    As the car rolled out of sight, Bess wrestled with the argument playing out between her heart and mind. Her house was in a state of disrepair and as much as she wanted to be a strong, independent woman, home maintenance fell outside her comfort zone. Erich had quickly fixed the furnace and did the dishes, even after a long, hard day at the deli. He didn’t shy from work and was polite enough.
    But to repeatedly ask the same man — an unattached man at that — into her home seemed disloyal to Harry, and she couldn’t help but think she was only inviting gossip. People in this town talked. Gail was evidence enough of that.
    I’m not inviting Erich in as a lover. Yes, she was lonely; the empty space beside her in bed kept her awake at night, but now wasn’t the time to fill the void with another body. She wasn’t like Martin. For her, it might never be the right