Free The Ghosts of Aquinnah by Julie Flanders Page B

went above and beyond,” Christopher said, wishing he could say the truth. That it was Stella who had gone above and beyond. He wisely kept that to himself.
    “ Well what did you have in mind then?”
    “ I'm not sure of that. I don't know this island and I'm surely not trained in your profession. But I'm a good worker..”
    “ I can attest to that,” Mrs. Mayhew said.
    “ I'll do whatever is needed, sir.” Christopher said.
    “ He could help us with the farm, Josiah,” Stella said, surprising everyone around the table.
    “ How do you mean, woman?”
    “ He could help with the sheep... I could use some help shearing them when the time comes. And he can help take care of Grover.”
    “ Grover?” Christopher asked, wondering if the Winslows had a child they hadn’t mentioned.
    “ The horse,” Josiah said.
    “ He could help you with trips to town too,” Stella said, turning to her husband and trying to keep the sense of pleading out of her voice. “You always say you wish you had someone to get supplies from town for you.”
    Josiah shook his head. “We don’t have room for guests at our house.”
    “ We have spare rooms,” Stella said.
    “ You mean the rooms that are meant for the children we don’t have?”
    A wave of pain washed over Stella’s face as she turned red and stared down at the table. Josiah had touched a nerve, and he knew it. Christopher was certain he’d done it intentionally.
    “ I could sleep in the barn,” Christopher said.
    Josiah let out a bark of laughter. “Used to those sorts of accommodations, are you?”
    “ Actually, I’m not.” Christopher steeled his shoulders and met Josiah’s eyes. “But I can make do with whatever accommodations I have. At least until I’ve paid off my debt to you.”
    Josiah set down his coffee cup and stared at the insolent young man across from him. If he wanted to work like a slave and sleep with animals, why should Josiah stop him? He could use the free labor.
    “ Fine then,” he said. “You can sleep with Grover and the sheep in the barn and we’ll have plenty of work for ya, I’ve no doubt of that.”
    “ I’ll look forward to it, sir.”
    Christopher took a sip of his own coffee and glanced across the table, his eyes meeting Stella’s. The pain in her face had been replaced by the slightest of smiles, and her green eyes now sparkled with an undisguised delight. Christopher quickly looked away, but not before he felt his heart once again turning somersaults in his chest.
     
    ****

 
     
     
     
     
    2013
     
     
     
     
    H annah rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock on the library wall. 4:45. The library would be closing in 15 minutes and she hadn’t learned a single thing about Stella Winslow and her husband beyond the fact that they had helped with the rescue of victims of The City of Columbus and, according to a Boston Globe article written by a reporter named Chesham, provided care for one of the survivors, an Irish immigrant named Christopher Casey.
    Except for the name of the survivor, Hannah already knew this from her visit to the museum. As far as she could tell, none of the information she had gathered from her afternoon spent at the library brought her any closer to learning why Stella Winslow was now haunting the cliffs of Aquinnah and seemingly trying to communicate with Hannah.
    Hannah cursed the reels of microfilm that were scattered around the table in front of her. She longed to be able to enter Stella’s name into Google and discover all there was to know about her long ago life. Hannah hadn’t realized until today how spoiled she’d become by the availability of online information. She wondered if she would need a prescription for glasses by the time she finished scanning through the reels of 19 th century newspapers.
    Gathering up the microfilm, Hannah got up from her station and returned the materials to the librarian. She assured the woman she would be back when the library reopened in the morning and