September Rose

by Tabitha12

Someone is leaving flowers for Carolyn Muir on the front porch of Gull Cottage, and the Captain swears it isn't him. Who is it? A Round Robin event by Kathy, Mary, Susan, Anne and Chantal.

September Rose

A GAMM ROUND ROBIN EVENT BY:

Kathy, Susan G, Mary, Anne and Chantal

All usual disclaimer's apply -- characters are all owned by 20th-Century Fox and based on characters created by R.A. Dick (AKA Josephine Leslie)

Based on an idea by Judy

1-Kathy

It was a single yellow rose left on the porch in a place where it was sure to be found. The brilliant color of the flower stood out boldly against the snow that had crept on to the porch railing during the night, making the gray day a little brighter. Snow in September! Even for Maine, that was rare.

"Well, look at this!" Carolyn exclaimed, picking up the delicate blossom in her hands, letting the fragrant petals touch her cheek. "I wonder where it came from?" Even though she knew she wouldn't be able to tell anything, she went down the steps, looking out in the yard for a sign of footprints or some other clue. A cool wind whipped across the yard, catching her in it's grasp, and she shivered. Hurrying back into the house and the warmth of the kitchen, she went to the cabinet and pulled out a vase, carefully filling it with water. "Look what I found out on the porch, Martha," she said to her housekeeper, who was diligently cooking eggs and hash for the soon-to-be thundering horde. "Isn't it pretty?"

"A rose?" Martha looked surprised. "In this weather?"

"It was just laying on the porch, in plain sight, like it wanted to be found. I don't know how it got there."

"Well, it would have to be for you," the older woman said dryly. "No one I know would do anything that unabashedly romantic, and Candy is still a bit young for admirers to be handing out flowers. Toads, maybe, but not flowers."

"I sure don't know anyone who would send me a flower." Carolyn gestured towards the rose. "But I intend to enjoy it."

2-Susan

For the rest of the morning, Martha watched as Carolyn made up any number of excuses to sit staring dreamily at the yellow rose, touching it very gently with a fingertip or breathing in the delicate fragrance of the petals.

Martha bit her lip a number of times, wanting to say something, but not sure she should.

Carolyn, not even aware of Martha's unease, smiled to herself. The rose must have come from Captain Gregg. Who else would be able to get such a lovely flower in such weather? AND arrange to have it on the porch, amid the snow, leaving no footprints? It had been a couple of busy months since her parents' visit and the 'aborted' wedding day, with both children at home from school. But now they were out of the house most of the day, and things were starting to get back to normal. She was hoping to finally get to the point in the Captain's Memoirs where the Captain WOULD 'deem it necessary' for her to read some of the love letters he had received and some of his personal journals wherein he had supposedly inscribed his emotions and fragments of the love letters he himself had written.

For an old sea dog, he was certainly romantic, she mused again, hugging to herself the memory of him looking so meaningfully at her that night in June and saying that if he were alive, she could have expected diamonds and emeralds and palaces.

Just before noon, Martha finally got up the courage to speak.

"I know it's none of my business, Mrs. Muir, but I just can't help it. You've encouraged me by saying I'm your friend, and what I want to tell you is something a good friend should say."

"What is it?" Carolyn looked up at her, almost startled to see Martha was in the same room.

Martha rolled her eyes.

"You have been mooning about Gull Cottage all morning. All summer, for that matter! Tell me, Mrs. Muir, just what are you doing about your love for the Captain? It's obvious he loves you, too . . ."

"Martha!"

"Well, it is! And thought I hate to say it, it's not right that he's leading you on, when there can't be a future. He doesn't HAVE a future, he only has a past."

"Martha Grant!"

"Don't stop me, I'm on a roll. Now, Mrs. Muir, I say you either have to make him come up to snuff, or we have to blow this pop-stand."

Carolyn's mouth was open in astonishment. Martha was red but determined as she stood her ground. For a moment, neither said anything.

Suddenly the Captain appeared beside them.

"Good morning, ladies. Or should I say, good afternoon? It is very close to noon."

Neither woman looked at him. Instead, to his surprise, BOTH of them flushed deeply and looked away. NOW what was going on aboard his ship? Women and their intrigues! He should never have allowed them passage Rather sourly, he eyed the flower Carolyn was holding.

"Where did that come from? With the weather outside, I should have thought your weeds would have died long ago!"

"Didn't you leave it?" Carolyn jumped in surprise and looked at him quickly.

"Why would I leave something like THAT?" he grumbled. "Really, Madam! I do think it is past time to return to work. Your imagination appears to be working overtime," and he disappeared.

The two women looked at each other again.

"Was he being evasive, or is that MORE of my imagination?" Carolyn asked.

"Did he HEAR me?" Martha asked about the same time.

There were no immediate answers to either question.

3-Kathy

Carolyn braced herself against the desk as the last fury of Captain Gregg's storm went through the bedroom and disappeared with him.

"And don't come back!" she called out after him, knowing the minute she said it, she didn't mean it.

But from the moment he had shown up in the kitchen denying that he had left the rose and called it a weed, her day had started downhill and wasn't getting any better. No, actually, to be truthful, she thought, it hadn't started with the Captain. It had been Martha's words, as well-meaning as they were.

"Well, it is! And thought I hate to say it, it's not right, that he's leading you on, when there can't be a future. He doesn't HAVE a future, he only has a past." She could hear the words as clearly now as she had then, almost as if the housekeeper were in the same room with her now.

The beginning of a headache was making itself known in her temples, and she rubbed her head gently. This was so inane. First of all, she had not been mooning around Gull Cottage all summer, she was much to busy to even think about such things as love and romance right now. Not that the two really had anything to do with each other, she reminded herself. This she knew from experience.

And secondly, she WAS NOT in love with the Captain. That was just silly. You couldn't love someone who was not real. Actually, she told herself, you could love them perhaps, but not be IN love with them. But now she was making things too technical.

Opening the French doors, she stepped out onto the balcony, noticing that the snow they had received that morning was now mostly gone.

Taking a deep breath of the cold air, she hoped it would clear her head. "he's leading you on, when there can't be a future. He doesn't HAVE a future, he only has a past."

Only a past. It was hard to remember when she interacted with him day after day, that he was indeed nothing more than that, a part of the past. They were writing a book on his past. Her future and Daniel Gregg's future would never met, because his future was still in his past. Oh this was not helping her head!

"Mrs. Muir?" Her heart lurched at the plaintive sound to his voice. "Mrs. Muir, It's possible I may have over-reacted just now. Sometimes my tongue gets ahead of my thoughts and it might say things it shouldn't. Could we perhaps forget our little disagreement and continue on with our work? There is something I would very much like to show you today, and the children will be home soon."

It was the best he could do at apologizing, and she was touched by his attempts. And they wouldn't have had their 'disagreement' if she hadn't been sulking over what had happened downstairs.

"It's forgotten, Captain." She gave him her best smile and suddenly realized she did feel somewhat better. "No need to dwell on the past." She turned to head back inside, walking near him as she did so. As far as she was concerned at this moment, the past was the last place she wanted to think about.

4-Mary

Fifteen minutes later, Carolyn came down to the parlor, glanced at her watch and sighed. Well, here I am, now where is he? she wondered. She stood and gazed at the Captains' magnificent portrait and pondered Martha's statement.

. . . Blow this pop-stand. As if I ever really could! I tried that the night we met! She argued with herself. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into two years ago! The minute I MET him I knew he was something special! It was like there was an instant bond between us — one I never felt with Bobby! Not even after five years and two children together! Leave here now Martha? I can't! Come on Captain! Where are you?

The sound of the school bus horn outside signaled that the children had been dropped off, and Carolyn went to the front door where she could see them make their way up the walk. Tossing their schoolbooks in the hall, Candy and Jonathan greeted her with a hug, and they all made their way back to the parlor.

Candy groaned.

"Miss Drew is piling on the homework this week! We have to write a paper about something in Schooner Bay a hundred years ago, but she won't tell us what we are supposed to write about!" The little girl sighed. "I'm not sure what to do, Mom," she said plaintively.

"I think she wants you to think for yourself!" Carolyn smiled, "She wants to know what you think about, not tell you how to think! Just relax, and open yourself up to something new. Think about what interests you, and how it might relate to living a hundred years ago. Something will come to mind!" She turned to her son. "What about you, Jonathan?"

"Well, I have some arithmetic to do, but I did most of that on the bus," he replied. "We're still reviewing last year." He shook his head. "But I DO have a problem!"

"What?" Carolyn inquired.

"Well, Miss Stoddard wants us to bring in something for art."

"And . . . ?"

"So, we have to bring in something old and fix it, but do it without destroying it's anti . . . a takey, or something," he explained. "Take something from around our house and fix it, but make it a still look like how old it is."

"I think you mean restoring an antiquity," said Carolyn, with a smile.

"So — it sure sounds like more fun than writing a paper!" said Candy, with another sigh.

"Yeah, well, I don't know what to bring in. I had my ship in a bottle to do a report on last time, but it doesn't need fixing, and I don't know what else around here I can bring in. All the stuff in this house is old and supposed to be. I can't change anything."

Captain Gregg materialized in the parlor carrying a large sea chest. Not THE sea chest from the attic, but a different one. Carolyn jumped slightly.

"I am sorry, my dear! I didn't mean to startle you!" He frowned. "I thought you were expecting me!"

"Well, yes, about fifteen minutes ago! The children and I were discussing their homework."

"I heard. I think I have something here that may help them. I also have what I promised to bring to you." Fumbling with the lock on the chest slightly, the Captain opened it and pulled out several bundles of cloth, obviously wrapping up something else, and handed them to Candy. "Here you are, my child."

"What are they?" she asked suspiciously.

"Dresses. They belonged to my mother. I stowed them away ages ago. One, I believe, was her best 'going to church dress,' and the other is the dress she was married in, but it is not a wedding dress. My mother and father didn't have a formal wedding. I thought you might be able to use them for your paper."

Candy unrolled one of the packages and gasped. "It's beautiful, Captain!" She held the dress up to herself. "Look, Mom! It almost fits!" She held up the dress, again, which, amazingly, was really only about five inches too long, and she turned to the Captain. "How could you be so tall and your mom be so short?" She grinned. "Scuze me Captain! I have to go find a mirror!" And she dashed out.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Girls! If you have anything for me in there, Captain, I hope it's not a dress!"

Daniel Gregg smiled and turned to the trunk and pulled out a half-finished model of a ship, followed by what were obviously the parts to complete it.

"Here you are, my lad. I hope you have better luck with it than I did!"

Jonathan peered at the ship and it's pieces and shook his head.

"Captain, did you loose the instructions?"

The Captain grinned sheepishly and smiled. "I cannot get anything past you lad. I don't think it even had instructions! My first mate, Sean O'Casey, gave it to me as a challenge. I was hoping maybe you could find something at the library, or the hobby shop, that might help you assemble it properly. It would make a very good art project, it you could manage to finish it."

Jonathan muttered something under his breath and started spreading out the pieces at the other end of the room.

The Captain reached into the sea chest again and pulled out another cloth-wrapped bundle. "It's a cookbook," he explained. "It belonged to one of my ship's cooks who was washed overboard during a storm. I thought Martha would like to have it. Who knows? She might even like some of the recipes!"

Carolyn turned pink, remembering last year's Christmas dream and Daniel's comment about 'the cook who was washed overboard, who was not a very good cook.' Daniel ignored her and pulled another small bundle of letters out of the sea chest.

"These are for you, my dear." Carolyn turned them over in her hand, and threw him a questioning look as he dusted his hands against each other. "There. I think that's everything in there! They're letters," he offered.

"From, or to?" she asked archly.

"From," he replied. "From a Miss Hamilton."

"And who, pray tell, is Miss Hamilton, and why do I care?"

"Because, my dear, her first name is Vanessa."

Carolyn's mouth flew open in shock, as the Captain dematerialized.

"Blast!" Jonathan muttered from the other end of the room, "Missing the main mast! . . . I think!" he added, going over to the chest. Jonathan turned the chest upside down and out came the missing mast to the ship, and four intertwined circles of gold, looped together, each loop more or less the size of a ring.

"Here, Mom." Jonathan tossed them to her. "Those don't go to the ship — what are they?"

Carolyn put down the letter she had begun to read and looked at the gold objects in her hand.

"Well, I'll be!" She said with some amusement.

"What?" asked Jonathan, curiously.

"It's a puzzle ring!" She grinned. "I always heard these things were old — but I never thought about Captain Gregg having one!" She rubbed the tarnish off the ring with her thumb.

"How does it work?" Jonathan asked.

"Here." In three swift moves, Carolyn assembled the ring and slipped it on so it rested above the gold wedding band on her ring finger.

"See? It's a puzzle ring. The secret to assembling it was supposed to be a big secret in ancient times. Women weren't supposed to know how to put it together."

"Why do you know how to then?" Jonathan asked, logically.

"Old boyfriend. Tony, I think his name was, showed me. For the life of me I don't even remember why now! But it's like riding a bike. Once you learn the secret, you never forget."

"That's cool, Mom," the boy replied. "Can I get something to eat and take my ship upstairs to our room?"

"Of course . . ." Carolyn absently replied, and opened the second letter from Vanessa to Daniel Gregg.

5-Kathy

She could have sworn it wasn't there when she had walked the kids to the car pool, but there is was now. Not that she had been looking for it. Just because you found a rose on your front porch didn't mean you expected to see another one.

Gently she picked it up, not able to resist breathing in it's scent. A yellow rose! It was so frail and beautiful. But who was leaving them? It had to be the Captain, regardless of what he denied.

"Another one?" Martha looked up as Carolyn came into the kitchen with her find. "I guess you can put in the vase with the first one."

"I suppose so," she said, even as she held it close to her. "It's so lovely."

"What is this?" Captain Gregg appearing just a few inches from Carolyn. "Another one?"

"Yes, another one." She tried to mock his voice. "Exactly where I found the first one."and she threw him an accusatory look.

"As I've already told you, Madam, I know nothing about how the first rose got there, so don't look at me in that tone. I can't imagine anything less romantic then someone cowardly giving a rose in secret. If I wanted to show a woman how I felt about her, I would be much more direct."

"Would you?" Carolyn felt her face turning red and her heart picked up speed.

"Indeed I would!" He disappeared from the room as quickly as he had appeared.

Carolyn placed the rose in the vase with the wilting one, and sat down at the table, thankful for the cup of coffee Martha placed in front of her.

Hadn't Vanessa, in the letter she had read yesterday, said something about roses? she tried to remember in an attempt to clear her mind. Yes, that's it. Focus on the book, the memoirs, the letters, Vanessa. Vanessa! "I'll be in my room, Martha," she got up suddenly. "I need to finish going through some letters — for the memoirs."

"I'll tell him," the housekeeper said. "And just for the record, have you given any thought to what I told you yesterday?"

Thought, yes, she had thought...

"Call me at lunchtime, please," was her only reply as she left the warmth of the kitchen to began another day.

6-Mary

Once up in her room, Carolyn retrieved the pack of Vanessa's letters from her desk. There was one more letter left to read.

Surely this one will tell me what I have waited two years to learn! Carolyn thought, as she removed the brittle document from the envelope. The Captain gave me the letters ... At least I know I'm not sneaking, or anything.

Slowly she unfolded the Vanessa's last letter and began to read.

November 13, 1847

My Dear Daniel,

It is with a contrite and heavy heart that I write this letter to you, for it is to be my final one. I know you detest cowards. Truly I have no wish to be put into that category, but as you are once again away at sea, so I have no choice but to send you this letter and hope that you receive it and understand why I have made the decision that I have. My dear man; please understand me when I tell you now, and forever that I love you, but I feel that it would be the best thing for both of us if I elect now to end our betrothal.

There. I have said the words, and I cannot take them back.

The simple truth is Daniel, that while I love you, I am not IN love with you. Quite bluntly, you are considered to be a 'fine catch,' but I simply cannot reconcile myself to the thought of being married to a man that will be away from me so much. My father is not at all happy with my decision, but I cannot bear the idea of being a 'married widow' — for that is what I would be, were we to bind ourselves to each other. I would be tied to a man that is never here. How can I hope to create a future with a man who is never at home? I would, in time of course, have your children to nurture and keep me company, but having only children to love and care for is a poor substitute for a life together with a man, when I can choose someone who will be with me every day, and with whom I can share a life of love and laughter and companionship.

I have done a great deal of thinking in the months that you have been away, and I truly believe that women only really get to make one decision in their life, if they are lucky, and that is whom they will marry. Is it no wonder that we get a reputation as flirts and heartless wenches? It is one of the few times in our life that we get to make our own decisions, in our own way! I have been given the choice, and I intend to make the most of it.

Before marriage we women are expected to do as our parent's bid us to do, and after marriage as our husband bids us without complaint — indeed to do what we are asked to do willingly and happily, and take satisfaction in keeping a good house and raising our children. With a good and devoted spouse I am sure this is possible, but with each passing day you are gone, I am convinced that I have not the temperament to be a seaman's wife. I want a good, well thought match, 'tis true, but I fear my life bound to you would not be a happy one.

In time I think we would both come to resent, if not hate each other. You would feel a tie to the land, when the sea is really and truly your home. I would feel tied to a ghost, in a sense; the mere spirit of a man who lives for the most part only in my memories of short times on land together and fleeting moments of love, and togetherness, and, dare I say it? Passion. But there simply can be no passion between us if you are never here with me.

Now, Daniel, before you jump ship, or whatever it is you would do to come home in a hurry and try and change my mind, please finish reading this letter, and try to understand what I am trying in my 'totally female,' as you have said so often, way to say.

Enclosed with this letter is the promise ring you gave me when we were betrothed. You told me that the gypsy merchant you bought it from said "The ring would tie you to your soul mate for all eternity." Alas, that is simply not I. The ring does not fit me. It 'worries' me. My finger itches when I wear it, and I have never felt comfortable with it on. I truly believe that this also is a signal or a sign that we are not meant to be together. The ring was never mine to wear to begin with — it belongs to your soul mate — whoever she may be, and together, sooner or later, with her, you will open the floodgates of passion that you have been unable to open for me, or me for you.

Also Daniel, there is something else I must tell you. I have simply been trying to work up my courage. The truth is I have also met someone else, and we wish to marry. Before you come charging back here, please understand that we did our utmost best to not fall in love. We fought against it for quite some time, but God knows better than the three of us, I'm afraid! I know I will find happiness with him.

By the time you receive this letter, I will have already left Schooner Bay and Maine behind me and started my life as a married woman. For the record, he is not as well-off as you, and, as I said, my father is not happy about my decision. But my father also loves me and wants me to be happy. John makes me happy. We will be moving to Boston, where he will be a partner with his brother, Stephen, in business.

Please know that I will always have a place for you in my heart, and I wish nothing but the best for you in your future.

Vanessa

Carolyn folded the letter and put it back in its envelope and stared at the puzzle ring still nestled on her finger above her wedding band. Captain Gregg appeared before her and slowly she reached out and touched him on the sleeve.

7-Kathy

The Captain stared down at her hand as though he had never seen it before, a brief look of surprise covering his handsome features before he once more had the look of total confidence.

"I . . . I . . ." Carolyn faltered, trying to withdraw her hand, but he covered it with his own. Their eyes met in a gaze that seemed to lock them together and she gave him a quivering smile. His hand was warm over hers, and absentmindedly squeezed her fingers. It was then that he noticed the puzzle ring that was still on her ring finger.

"Where the devil did you find that?" his voice held no anger, just a tinge of curiosity.

"It was in the box you brought down to give Jonathan his ship model from. He found it actually in the pieces of ship and asked me what it was. I hadn't seen one in ages, not since I was in high school and an old boyfriend showed me how to put it together. I showed Jonathan how it worked and slipped it on and then sort of forgot about it. And then just now, I read this letter, she nodded in the direction of the discarded paper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep it on," she smiled apologetically.

"And it fits?" he had to ask, bringing her hand up to his eye level.

"Yes," she nodded, a little breathless as his fingers moved around hers, touching the ring gently.

"How long have you been wearing it?" he asked, bringing her hand up to his face.

She shivered slightly as his rough beard made contact with her hand. "Well, I guess I slept with it on. I never really thought about it."

"Mom?" Jonathan's voice broke into their world and the Captain dropped her hand. "Can you come here please?"

"In a minute, Jonathan," she called back. Pulling the puzzle ring off, she went to hand it to the Captain, but had a terrible thought. Would she still be able to touch him, if she wasn't wearing it?

8-Anne
The next day, when Carolyn went out to the front porch, she was surprised to find another yellow rose. Picking up the flower, she turned it around in her hands. The rose was just as beautiful as the first two she had found. This time as well, she couldn't find any signs as to who could have left it there. She went back into the house.

Martha was just coming out of the parlor when she saw Mrs. Muir with the new yellow rose.

"Please, Mrs. Muir, don't tell me you found another one out there! This whole thing is becoming quite mysterious. If it wasn't the Captain this time either, you must have another admirer."

"Oh, Martha, don't be silly. Who alive could put it there without leaving traces?"

Suddenly Carolyn had a strange thought. 'Could it be that Vanessa's ghost was near and the Captain didn't suspect it? No, that couldn't be, that was absurd. But what if . . . ?' She didn't finish her thought.

Martha noticed Mrs. Muir's absentmindedness and asked, "Mrs. Muir, you have something in your eye that tells me you have an idea who could have sent you these flowers. Tell me, who do you have in mind?"

"No, Martha, I can't. That thought is too silly. Will you excuse me? I've something important to do." She ran up the stairs.

9-Kathy

Daniel Gregg was suspicious. Someone had left Carolyn roses three days in a row. Yellow roses, the rose of friendship and he wanted to know who it was. There just had to be a way to find out.

He could make inquiries on the phone, but that would only make the florist wonder who the man was that was asking about flowers for Mrs. Muir, which would undoubtedly cause rumors to fly throughout the town and that was the last thing she needed. She and the family had enough to worry about with living in a "haunted house."

Maybe he was making too much of this. Yes, that was probably it. It could even be Jonathan, perhaps. The boy liked to play games. But where would he get the money to buy such nice roses, and how would he be placing them on the porch like that?

Well, he would bide his time and see what happened tomorrow, and if there was another, then, then he would delve into this further. He pulled the puzzle ring that he put in his pocket last night when Carolyn had given it back to him and fingered it lightly. "At least it's not red roses."

10-Mary

Carolyn sat in the Keystone Library and tried to collect her scattered thoughts.

'One. Someone is leaving me roses. Yellow roses. The reference book I pulled from the shelves said they signify friendship. FRIENDSHIP! If they are from Captain Gregg, despite what he has said to the contrary, what is he trying to tell me?'

'Two. Captain Gregg either lied two years ago when he said that Vanessa's letters had been lost at sea, or he had simply been mistaken and now wants me to know the truth about what happened. He's given them to me now and he wanted me to read them — what does that mean? And what about the ring?'

'Three. The puzzle ring that he originally gave to Vanessa has some kind or magical ability — I could touch him. TOUCH HIM! But he didn't argue when I returned the ring — he simply took it and put it in his pocket. Did I hurt his feelings by returning it? Did he want me to keep it? No — it fell out of the envelope and into the chest. Me finding the ring was an accident, but his poem! "If Only." He certainly sounded like he wanted to touch me then! And he did just a few months ago when he told me "If I were alive there would be diamonds and emeralds and palaces . . ."'

Carolyn stifled a sob, but her thoughts raced on.

'He did wanted to touch me then . . . at least I thought he did! He even said to Claymore "Is that any way to treat the children of the woman you love? Can his feelings have changed so much in short time? Can it be that Martha is right? That he is merely putting up with me and the kids and Martha, instead of facing future years of loneliness?' Does he want us to leave? And what about the roses? What about the roses? Where are they coming from?

Carolyn gave herself a mental shake.

'Well if you can't figure out who is sending you roses Carolyn, at least you can find out more about this puzzle ring thing! You are a writer! One step at a time! Logic it out!

She wiped her eyes and opened the small reference book in front of her.

The history of puzzle rings lies shrouded in mystery. It is believed that "puzzle rings" were first invented by the Chinese, before the birth of Christ, as a means of reaching a Zen state. Certainly the concentration necessary to reassemble a puzzle ring creates a single minded focus.

Carolyn grinned, thinking of how quickly the 'mystic secret' came back to her when she showed Jonathan how to assemble the ring.

Originating in Persia, the Middle-East, many centuries ago, the predecessors of these rings were given as wedding bands by the sheiks, sultans, chieftains and other men of high position. If their wives ever removed the rings, the bands would fall apart. The women were not told how to re-assemble the rings . . . thus, the husbands would know or suspect that their wives were not being faithful to their solemn marriage vows.

'Well that's not very romantic!' Carolyn thought, but she continued to read.

The symbolism and the design of puzzle rings had evolved and changed over the centuries. The first simple design of four bands, has expanded to include six, eight, and twelve-band designs. The more well known designs include snakes, dolphins, fish, and ivy vines, to mention only a few, and now come designed not only in the more traditional silver and gold, but platinum as well, and often the rings also have also had precious stones set into them.

It is to be added that it has become quite acceptable now for BOTH men and women to wear them as wedding bands, and the average price of such wedding sets soar up into prices well and exceeding two hundred dollars (varying by the current prices of gold and platinum) at this writing. For example, the "Russian Wedding Ring." Russian wedding rings or gimmals have five to eight links that were engraved with words that made up a posy, or sentimental poem. Posy rings were common between the 14th and 18th centuries in Europe and were worn by both men and women.

Below are some of the more popular designs:

Fascinated, Carolyn continued reading.

Clauddagh Ring —This design, that of the heart held between two hands, with a crown on the top is reputed to be of a tradition handed down for many generations in the Irish fishing village of Clauddagh, adjacent to the city walls of Galway. Traditionally this ring was an heirloom of the family, handed down firstly as an engagement ring, then as a wedding ring. This unique design symbolizes Love in the form of the heart, the hands of friendship cradling it, and the crown of fidelity.

Mariner's Knot — Legend has it that the True Lovers Knot or Mariner's Knot was the result of a Sailor's desire to retain the affection and attention of his beau by giving her this knot, which if left in its original form over the duration of his voyage, and upon his return he finds it so, he still has a chance at her heart, albeit on a probationary mode. This knot by it's nature if fiddled with, will change it's form to look like a cross with four loops. If our sailor returned to the knot in this form, he'd better get on his knees and woo extra hard, because she needs to be worked for if he is to ever have a chance.

Spanish Wedding Band — A form of the Clauddagh Ring (without the crown) was uncovered in a sunken Spanish galleon, divers having found it on the hand of a sailor of the unlucky ship foundered on the Irish coastline centuries ago. Inscribed on the inside was the saying in Spanish: No tengo nada, porque darte. Roughly this translates to: I have nothing, for it is given unto you.Some say that the Clauddagh crown was added much later to this traditional style by none other than Queen Elizabeth. Another story has it that a young man on Crusade was captured, sold into slavery, and wound up in the Moorish lands, learning gold smithing in Morocco. He made his way to Ireland whereupon he was commissioned to make this ring for a noble family.

'Morocco.' Carolyn started. ''Daniel said he bought Vanessa's shawl in Morocco . . . Vanessa's letter . . . she said he bought the puzzle ring in Morocco too . . . what did she say? Think, Carolyn! What did Vanessa's letter say?'

And then she remembered.

'Enclosed with this letter is the promise ring you gave me when we were betrothed. You told me that the gypsy merchant you bought it from said "The ring would tie you to your soul mate for all eternity." Alas that is simply not I. The ring does not fit me. It 'worry's' me. My finger itches when I wear it, and I have never felt comfortable with it on. I truly believe that this also is a signal or a sign that we are not meant to be together. The ring was never mine to wear to begin with — it belongs to your soul mate — whoever she may be, and together, sooner or later with her you will open the floodgates of passion that you have been unable to open for me, or me for you.'

Carolyn put the reference book on the shelf and headed back to Schooner Bay.

11-Kathy

"Mommy look what I found!" Candy came into the kitchen clutching a single tulip against her chest. It was bright — almost orange-yellow, tinged with red and Carolyn had to admit one of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen.

"Tulips now is it?" Martha and Daniel both said at the same time, eyebrows shooting up like question marks.

"Who ever heard of tulips in September?" The housekeeper shook her head. "Whoever is leaving them must either have their own greenhouse or an unholy amount of money."

Carolyn took the fragrant blossom and placed it in the vase with the two remaining roses, the other one having become wilted.

"Candy you better get back outside," She kissed her daughter, sneaking her two extra cookies. "Have a good day."

"Bye, Mom," the little girl waved. "Bye, Captain. Bye, Martha!" She ran from the room as the as the school bus squealed to a stop in front of Gull Cottage.

"Well, Mrs. Muir, I'm going to finish up the dishes here and then I have to mail a package to my sister, so I'll do the grocery shopping while I'm in town," Martha informed her.

"Thank-you, Martha," Carolyn smiled, grateful for her friend. "I need to get this story done, so we can KEEP grocery shopping."

The Captain showed up fifteen minutes later, but Carolyn didn't notice him until he cleared his throat. Looking up from her work, she smiled at him, a wary smile to be sure. Since she had touched him the other night she was more than a little eager to know what it might mean. But she couldn't let him know that, that would make her to be vulnerable she thought, something she had worked hard all of her life not to be. Especially with men . . . or ghosts, she reminded herself firmly.

"My dear, I would very much like to speak with you." He leaned against the table, facing her.

"I really don't know where the flowers are coming from, Captain," she sighed. "And I really don't have time to talk about them right now. I'm very busy." And she bent her head over her work once more.

"Blast it, Madam!" he banged his fist so hard that the typewriter in front of her rattled. "I do not wish to discuss the flowers at this moment. I want to talk about this," And he pulled the puzzle ring out of his pocket.

Carolyn's heart picked up speed and she hoped her face wasn't showing the excitement she was now feeling.

"I went to the library yesterday and read about puzzle rings, I found out some very interesting things. Why did you give her a puzzle ring, Captain? Did you feel that she would be unfaithful to you?" she asked boldly. "Or do you just not trust women?"

He tugged at his ear, a mixture of various emotions crossing his face.

"What's the matter, Carolyn?" he asked gently.

It was him saying her name that caused her defenses to drop and the tears to come. He came to stand beside her, his hand gentle as he wiped her tears away. His voice was soothing, and she leaned against him, bathing in the comfort of his arms.

"I'm sorry," she finally looked up. "I don't know what came over me," and then she laughed. "Well, actually I might sort of have an idea."

"You're jealous," he smiled, aching to hold her close again. Was it the ring that enabled this? It must be.

"Jealous?" She tried to look incredulous. "Of Vanessa? Of the ring? Because you wrote her letters?" A look crossed her face, and then she said quietly, "Because she could touch you, and I couldn't."

He squatted down beside her and touched her chin with one hand. "She never was to me, what you are, touching or not. I thought I loved her, and in a way I did, but you my darling . . ." He handed the puzzle ring to her. "I would very much like for you to wear it."

"I have to do something first." She shook her head.

"Which is?" his voice was slightly fearful.

It took a little work, but she finally got the gold wedding band off of her finger and she laid it on the table. Then she held out her hand, and he placed the puzzle ring where the other had been.

"There." She looked up at her Captain with smiling eyes. And then he kissed her.

12-Kathy

He had thought about it many times. At first it was after his new family had gone to bed and he would be pretending to work on his sea charts or his log, but he really was sitting there just thinking. Thinking about if he were a real man, how things would be much different between himself and Carolyn Muir.

Of course, if he had been a real man, he wouldn't be living in the house with her like a . . . well . . . yes like a husband, and he wouldn't have dared tease her about the main bedroom being 'theirs.' But he knew he was 'just an illusion,' so he had a bit of fun, watching her very pretty face blush all the way up to the roots of her hair.

Many nights after that first night they had met, had thought of how he would love to court her, bestowing flowers and gifts, taking her for walks along the beach, accompanying her and the children on a picnic or into town.

It seemed like a million times a day that he was tempted to try to touch her, to brush back a wisp of hair, or to brush her face when it was covered with flour. More than anything, he wanted to massage her tired neck muscles when she had sat over the typewriter too long, or let his fingers linger against his when she handed him the article she had been working on. He wanted to squeeze her hand in greeting or be able to brush up against her shoulder when he walked by. The other day she had a free moment and she was playing with the children. . . some kind of running game. He had had the strongest desire to join them, wanting to put his arms around her waist and swing her around as she was doing with her children, to tickle her until she pleaded for mercy.

And today, they had touched. They had kissed. Just a few moments ago, they had kissed, his lips on hers. Before they had ended the gesture, the kiss had deepened, but now she was gone. Was it the blasted ring? It must be. He couldn't touch her before she had put the ring on. If the puzzle ring was truly for his soul mate and that's who she was, then perhaps the ring was aiding them in being together? But that was highly unlikely. It was just a ring after all.

But he could still feel the shadow of Carolyn Muir's lips on his, could still taste her on his tongue and he wanted it to happen again. Whether it was the ring or not.

"Captain." Her voice cut into his thoughts. She was so lovely standing there, her hair shining like gold, her lips still red from being kissed. "Is it the ring?" she asked him. "Is that why we can touch? It must be."

"I am assuming so," he agreed. "However, since we did not try it without, there is no way to know. But even when I held the ring in my hand, we could touch."

"I'm afraid to see what will happen if I take it off and move it away from us. I just want to be able to keep touching you." She was almost pleading.

"Then let's not." He walked over beside her, placing his arms around her. "Let's not."

13-Mary

"Whatever you are cooking Martha? It smells heavenly!" Carolyn said as she entered the kitchen the next morning with a smile on her face. I smell potatoes — but there's something else in there too! And coffee — It smells wonderful!" Carolyn went over and peered in the skillet on the stove. "What have we here?"

"Ships' Potatoes!" Martha grinned. "There are some really interesting recipes in that cookbook the Captain gave me! And the page with this recipe was especially stained — a sure sign the recipe is a good one! Potatoes, onions and salt and pepper and a few other spices is all it is really!" She paused and made a face. "Of course I hadn't planned on giving my math skills a workout, but judging by yours and Jonathan's reactions, I guess it paid off!"

"Math skills?" Jonathan asked, his mouth still half full, "What do you mean?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full Jonathan," admonished Carolyn, as she sat down at the kitchen table and reached for the serving bowl, "But what DO you mean Martha?"

Martha smiled. "You forget from whence that book came Mrs. Muir! Tell me, did you look in the book at all after the Captain gave it to you? The recipes are all very good, but they are all gauged for two hundred people! I had to take it down to 'serves four or eight' maybe, that is if everyone wants seconds, and Captain Gregg decides to join us!"

"Of course I am joining you!" the Captain said as he materialized at the table. "I take it there is enough food if I eat then? Please, say I may, Martha! Ships' Potatoes' are a treat!"

"Absolutely Captain! So I take it you have eaten these before then?" Martha beamed. How she did love cooking for men!

"I have indeed, Martha. This recipe was steady fare on board ship — at times almost too steady! But they were always a favorite of mine, and it's been easily a hundred years since I have tasted any! I deeply appreciate you preparing them!" The Captain inhaled the warm kitchen scents deeply. "Would it be troubling you too much if I asked for a cup of coffee, Martha?" He paused, "Your coffee is always wonderful, but it smells even better this morning, for some reason!"

"You can thank the cookbook again for that, Captain!" Martha grinned; thinking how amiable the Captain seemed. "It's cinnamon. You put it in while the coffee is brewing. Brilliant idea. Don't know why I never thought of it!" She paused and looked at Carolyn who was spooning up a helping of Ship's Potatoes for the Captain, and another small helping for herself.

"Seconds, Mrs. Muir? I don't believe it! I am definitely going to have to make this dish for breakfast more often!"

Carolyn flushed a light pink. "I just seem to be really hungry this morning, Martha! I guess anyone can have a hungry morning once in a while!" Carolyn looked around the table; suddenly noticing one of her brood was missing. "Martha, where's Candy? Don't tell me she didn't want breakfast!"

"She ate earlier, Mrs. Muir. She's finishing up the last of her project for school. Still working on the last touches on one of those dresses you gave her, Captain!" Martha explained. "I can't think when I have seen her so excited about clothing, Mrs. Muir, especially a dress! Just a minute." Martha went to the foot of the stairs. "Candy! Get finished, and come on downstairs!"

"In a minute!" The girl called, and Martha returned to the kitchen table.

"How is the ship coming, Jonathan?" Captain Gregg asked the boy.

"Fine," the boy replied. "I went to the library yesterday, and didn't find anything that would help, then I went to the hobby shop after school. Mrs. Coburn had to stop there on our way home, anyway, to pick up some rubber cement. Mr. Briggs found a model that looks a lot like yours, Captain. He's lending me the instructions."

He grinned. "When I told Miss Stoddard what I was trying to do, she said I had ini . . . ini . . . something, and said she was going to give everyone a little longer to get finished with their projects."

"Initiative?" The Captain guessed, as Martha poured him another cup of coffee.

"That's it," said Jonathan. "Anyway, she said she was just happy that I wanted to do a really good job!"

Candy peeked around the doorway of the kitchen.

"Is everyone ready?"

"Of course, darling!" Carolyn turned her head.

"Ta Daa!" Candy sang, as she twirled her way into the room in the old-fashioned dress.

"Candy! You look beautiful!" Carolyn rose from her chair and hugged her daughter.

"Indeed you do, my dear!" the Captain added, as he, too, rose from where he was sitting next to Carolyn. He gave the delighted little girl a formal Victorian bow. "You are absolutely enchanting."

"Marvelous!" Martha added her comment.

"Pretty good, for a girl! And my sister!" Jonathan commented as he finished his milk.

Candy turned beet-red. "Thank-you Mom! Martha!" She turned to Daniel Gregg. "I really want to thank you Captain! You really are the most!" Candy gave the spectre a serious look. "These dresses were your mother's. I really do appreciate you trusting me with them!" She paused, as if she was trying to figure out how to express her feelings. "You've never helped me with homework or anything like that before. It's like having a Dad help me. You really are groovy!" The child turned red again. "Well . . . I need to go change out of this and get the dress ready to go with my paper. I get to model it at school, too. Thanks again, Captain! Be back in a minute, Mom!" She scurried out of the room.

Carolyn, the Captain and Martha were lingering over the last of their coffee when Jonathan came back inside.

"Jonathan? You're supposed to be waiting for the bus. Is there anything wrong?" Carolyn asked.

Captain Gregg swore he saw her turn paler, even as she spoke.

"I found this outside."

In his hand was a flawless burgundy-colored rose.

14-Kathy

It was a lily, a beautiful orange flower that smelled florist store fresh. Carolyn breathed in it's scent before putting it in the vase with the others.

Over the last few days, she had found a white rose, a pink carnation, a burgundy rose and now today the lily.

"It's beginning to look like a bouquet." Martha remarked as she passed the counter that held the vase of blossoms. "Whoever is leaving them, certainly is very creative in their choices."

"They are indeed," Captain Gregg nodded, giving Carolyn a secret smile that made her blush. "I only wish we could figure out who it is."

"It's really not you, Captain?" Martha asked him. "I was sure it was you, trying to spice up our lives a little."

"No, Martha 'tis not I. And I would like very much to know just who it is. And I think there must be a way to find out. So tomorrow, the children and I are going to play a little Holmes and Watson."

"Well, if there is anything I could do to help out, let me know," the housekeeper told him.

"I'm glad you asked, because there is something you can do for me," the spirit began to outlay his plan to her.

Carolyn sat looking at the flowers, not really paying attention to what they were saying. It was the word bouquet that she was dwelling on. 'like a bridal bouquet?' she thought. And suddenly she had a very unnerving thought.

15-Mary
The next day was Saturday. The children awoke earlier than usual, mostly due to the sunshine reflecting off the inch or so of fresh snow that fallen during the night that bounced through their unshaded window. Carolyn's bedroom door was closed — a sure sign that she was still asleep, and wanted to remain that way until she woke on her own.

Martha as usual, rose at six o'clock in the morning and made an early check of the front porch — collecting the milk and checking carefully for any new flowers that might have been delivered early that morning, or late the night before. There was nothing on the porch except the milk and butter the milkman had dropped off at his customary 5:30 a.m.

After Candy and Jonathan had finished their breakfast, the Captain assembled his 'crew' on the front porch and they all went to work.

"No dice, Captain!" Candy called from the gate; "I'm still leaving footprints! Even if I tiptoe on the area right next to the sidewalk! There is just no way to get from the porch to the car without leaving a trail!"

Jonathan grabbed his pogo stick and started to hop in the grass toward the front gate, but stopped after only a few jumps. Circular marks were being left in the grass.

"Nope! That doesn't work either, Captain!" The boy grinned. "I better stop — Mom won't like it if I slip and fall — Hey! I know! Could whoever have left the flowers left them at night before it snowed? That would explain why no footprints before."

"No Jonathan," the Captain stated. "That will not work either. The flowers that have been delivered are perfect — almost better than florist quality. If you leave a flower outside in the cold for any length of time it will wilt, or freeze."

Candy frowned. "There has to be something . . ."

"Indeed their does," the Captain answered, and he joined the children down by the stone wall in front of the cottage with a box in his hand.

"What's that, Captain?" Candy asked, peering into the box he put down on top of the wall. "Why, they're flowers! Little plastic flowers — made out of dry-cleaner bags, tissue paper and pipe cleaners! How pretty! They look almost real! Did you make them?"

"Indeed not!" the Captain sniffed, "Martha made them. We are going to experiment." The seaman took a few of the flowers and handed them to Candy, and then handed some to Jonathan, and then picked up a few more flowers and held them in his own large hand.

"Flowers!" Jonathan grunted, "This is sissy stuff!"

"Belay that mate!" The Captain smiled at Jonathan. "A good crewman never disobeys orders — now then, I want you to start throwing these flowers on the porch."

"Do what?" Candy asked, "You mean, like I was a flower girl at a wedding or something Captain?"

"No, my dear. Give it your best pitch — just try to make the flowers land on the porch."

Jonathan and Candy shrugged and did as they were told. Some of Candy's flowers landed on the porch stairs, and some on the porch itself. Jonathan followed, using the same pitching arm he had been perfecting during his time with the Schooner Bay Oysters Little League team. His results were somewhat better, all landing on the porch. The Captain followed with his handful of flowers — his more powerful arm also landing his flowers near the front door.

As the Captain's last throw sailed toward its destination, the front door of the cottage opened and Carolyn Muir narrowly missed being pelted in the face with the flying blossom.

"Hey!" she laughed, picking up the broken blossom' and joining the Captain and the children out by the gate, "We don't have enough flowers around here already?" She gave the seaman a special smile. "What on earth are you all doing?"

"Merely turning detective, my dear!" The Captain glanced at the broken flower' in her hand and headed toward the porch, the children and Carolyn at his heels.

The Captain, Carolyn, Jonathan and Candy looked at the broken, battered blooms.

"There's just no way, Captain," said Candy, as the group headed inside for the kitchen table where Martha was waiting with hot cocoa.

"No way, what? I still don't understand what you all were doing out there," Carolyn said, with a puzzled look on her face.

"Just shooting down another idea," said Jonathan glumly. "I thought maybe someone could have thrown your flowers from the gate and made them land on the porch . . . you know, like making a perfect horseshoe toss."

"Well, you can," said Candy, "But they get ruined. The flowers someone is leaving you are perfect, Mom."

"It was a good idea, lad," said the Captain, smiling at Jonathan, and then turning back to Carolyn, who was now sitting next to him. "The children and I have been playing at Sherlock Holmes, my dear."

"By throwing flowers?" Carolyn answered, "They looked pretty — I'm sorry they were ruined. And what does throwing flowers have to do with Sherlock Holmes, anyway?"

The Captain gave her another smile. "So you're not a big Holmes fan then, my dear? I rather fancy Mr. Conan Doyle's writing." The Captain took another swallow of cocoa and fingered the broken flower that Carolyn had placed on the table. "When Claymore first took possession of Gull Cottage, I talked him into bringing me books to read. I had to find more than one way passing the time in the last hundred years! I became fascinated with Doyle's Sherlock Holmes' stories. They were not written until after I died, you know. One of Mr. Holmes' more famous quotes, from the story The Yellow Face,' if I remember correctly, is: When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' The children and I have merely been eliminating the impossible."

Carolyn nodded slowly. "I see. There is no possible chance that the flowers could have been thrown from the gate."

"Right." Jonathan chimed in, "And you can't get from the gate to the porch in the snow without leaving footprints."

"And they can't sit there overnight and still look so nice," Candy added.

"And the Captain swears the flowers aren't his idea!" Martha added, coming into the kitchen.

"Which leaves us where, exactly?" Carolyn queried, looking into the Captain's vivid blue eyes.

"Well, we have eliminated the impossible this morning," the Captain responded promptly. "I suggest now we start looking for the improbable. It would seem that a number of improbable things have been happening lately." Under the table, he grasped Carolyn's hand and squeezed it.

"Jonathan," Martha broke in, "Did you leave your pogo stick outside? It's going to rust in this weather!"

"Oh, gosh! Thanks! I'll go get it!" the boy responded promptly.

Two minutes later, he was back — With a handful of babies'-breath in his hand.

16-Susan
Martha sat in her room, trying to figure out why everyone in the house seemed to be under a bit of tension, yet it wasn't a STRESSFUL tension.

Certainly the flowers had started out as a pleasant diversion, but now even the children were a little hesitant to step outside and bring in the offerings. Mrs. Muir's face had gone white when Jonathan showed up with the babies' breath this morning. But she had managed to get control of her emotions fairly quickly.

Martha grinned suddenly. No doubt due to the Captain's touch. 'Wonder when THAT happened?' she mused. 'I noticed they thought they were being so discreet . . . as if I wouldn't be aware of what was going on in my kitchen! I'm old, but not dead! However, the Captain is even older, and he IS dead . . . VERY interesting! Wonder if they'll ever say anything to me, or always try to keep it a secret?'

Her smile faded.

"But if he really isn't bringing the flowers, who can be, and how?" she said aloud.

Getting up, she rummaged in one of her drawers until she found a small photo album. Flipping to the middle, she stopped at the picture there.

"I THOUGHT so! Yes, this is MOST interesting. I'm going to have to keep my eyes open so I don't miss anything going on in the next few days! Whoever said a small town like Schooner Bay was boring?"

17-Mary

The next day was Sunday, and no flowers appeared, and there were no flowers Monday when Candy and Jonathan went outside to wait for the school bus; much to their relief, Carolyn saw, and she wondered how much longer this mystery would continue.

The day passed quietly. Carolyn spent most of the morning and early afternoon clattering away on her typewriter, stopping only at noon for a half a sandwich and a walk on the beach with Captain Gregg. Whey they returned from their walk, Carolyn looked much refreshed, Martha noticed, then she went up to her bedroom and started working away on her story again.

The school bus dropped Jonathan and Candy off about 3:30. Carolyn met them at the door as they made their way inside for their afternoon snack.

"Kids, I want you to get your homework done right away — no letting it wait until bedtime, or when the 'good' TV shows are on, okay?" Carolyn remarked as the two were finishing their milk and cookies.

"Okay, Mom," Jonathan replied, reaching for one more cookie. "I really don't have very much — Miss Stoddard gave us two pages of math to get done, and I'm almost finished with that, and I need to pull out a current event from the newspaper, and I need to work on my ship. Is the Captain around? I think I could use his help on one part."

"What about you, Candy?"

"I don't have any real homework tonight Mom, but I do have a kind of extra assignment to do, but you are allowed to help me, so can you?"

"Help you what, honey?" Carolyn asked, puzzled.

Candy started to smile. "Well, first things first — Where's the Captain?" Candy looked around.

"Right here, my dear!" The Captain materialized in the kitchen. "Welcome home, Jonathan, Candy!"

"I need to thank you again, Captain!" Candy grinned as she handed her mother a small binder, "Miss Drew gave me an A-plus on my report and display about the dress that belonged to your mother, Captain, and said if I want to do a paper on the other dress, your mother's wedding dress . . . " She turned from her mother's smiling face and looked at him. ". . . That she would consider it extra credit, and she wants to use BOTH papers and dresses to display at Back-To-School Night next Friday."

"That's marvelous, Candy!" Carolyn, the Captain and Martha said together.

"Well you are more than welcome to use both the dresses, my dear. I told you that!" The Captain smiled, pleased he could contribute something so tangible to the education of 'his' family.

Carolyn smiled at the seafarer and turned back to her daughter.

"So what do you need me to do?"

"Well, Miss Drew thought it would be interesting if I did a report comparing wedding dresses of a hundred and fifty years ago and now. So I am going to use the Captain's mother's wedding dress that was for a non-formal wedding, draw a picture of a formal Victorian wedding dress, then show them your dress Mommy, because you didn't have a formal wedding either."

"Well . . . I suppose I can dig up some pictures anyway," Carolyn replied. "You know, I don't have the dress anymore."

"You don't?" Candy looked disappointed. "Why not?"

"It's a long story. Let's go into the living room, and I'll see if I can find the photo album with my wedding photos in it."

"Captain, can you help me with one part on my ship, too?" Jonathan asked, "Miss Stoddard wants it to be displayed at Back-To-School Night also."

"I would be happy to, my boy." The seaman gave the boy a fond look. "And I am sorry . . . We weren't trying to ignore you, lad."

"Of course not!" Carolyn laughed. "And isn't it nice to have TWO such talented children?"

Together Carolyn and her Captain herded her offspring out the door and toward the living room.

The entire crew reassembled in the living room about five minutes later, Carolyn with a white photo album in her hands.

Jonathan and the Captain started to look at the ship, Jonathan asking the Captain a few questions about its assembly, but Martha noticed he kept glancing at Carolyn and Candy, who were starting to go through the photo album.

"So I don't get it Mom, here you are, wearing the dress . . . what happened to it?"

"Well, I gave it to Gladys Zimmerman . . . uh . . . Dillman."

"You gave away your wedding dress?" Candy was shocked. "Why?"

"Well, because I decided that a wedding dress worn at an elopement needed to be given to someone else that didn't have a wedding dress because they eloped. Gladys didn't have a dress. I certainly wasn't going to be using it again . . . I thought it was only right that she should have it to remember her day by. Besides, I have the pictures, and that's enough now."

"What about me, Mommy?" Candy looked more questioning now, not hurt. "Wouldn't I be able to use the dress some day? You think I will find someone to get married to, don't you?"

"When that day comes, sweetie, and I'm sure it will, I think you should have a dress of your own, and I certainly hope to be able to provide it for you. I also think you shouldn't settle for just 'finding someone.' That when you get married, it will be to your true soul mate, and it will be forever." Here, Carolyn gave Daniel a long look — oblivious to anyone else in the room. Candy''s voice brought her back down to earth.

"You know . . . " she said, flipping through the album, "I never really quite figured that out. You had the dress, but I heard Grandpa tell Grandma you eloped. But here are the pictures, and you had the dress and everything, why did you elope? Why didn't you just wait and get married?"

"There were several reasons," Carolyn said, reminiscently. The biggest one was we were in a hurry. You know me, I really don't like a lot of fuss, and the wedding was getting bigger and bigger and fussier and fussier, and your father agreed with me. We decided, in his words, to just "do it and get it out of the way." We eloped, but I did insist on taking the dress with me, and I changed before we went down to the wedding chapel." Carolyn sighed. "Looking back on it, I suppose we should have waited. We disappointed a lot of people, including our parents, and I understand more now than I did then why engagements are supposed to be long, not short." Carolyn frowned and turned back to the album that Candy was holding, and started pointing out items in the photo album.

"There's a postcard – 'We were married at Niagara Falls,'and there's a picture of the chapel we were married in. Here's a napkin from the place we had dinner after the wedding . . . here's the wedding license, of course. Oh, here are a few photos the minister's wife took." She glanced at the full length shot of Bobby, who looked quite handsome with his blonde hair and classic, but still boyish features and dark suit. 'How long ago it all seems! And how much has happened to me since! she thought.

Martha noticed that the Captain was now looking at the album with them, peering over Carolyn and Candy's shoulders. "Feminine curiosity my foot!" she chortled. Well, I can't say that I blame him! Her thoughts continued. I guess EVERY man want's to know who the competition is — living or dead! Especially in this case!

Carolyn continued looking through the album with Candy — more and more aware of Daniel's curiosity over the photos. Suddenly she realized more than ever how much the pictures, and the dress were a part of her past, and resolved to finish the trip down memory lane as soon as possible.

"Here's just me, right before we said our vows — and here's the last one — both of us, right after the ceremony . . . " She stopped suddenly and stared at the large 8x10 as if she had never seen it before.

'Uh-Oh,' Martha cringed inwardly, 'I think she's got it.'

'All these flowers,' Carolyn's pulse began to race. 'They're just like the ones in the wedding bouquet Bobby gave me right before the ceremony! My bouquet . . . but that can't be, can it? But what if it is? And if it IS him, what could he possibly want?

18-Kathy

Carolyn slept fitfully that night, getting up around 2:00. Walking over to her discarded clothing, she pulled the blouse and slacks back on, grabbing her coat and headed downstairs and out the door. She would be back before anyone would miss her and she had some thinking to do.

The night is freezing, she thought as she plunged her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. It's quiet tonight, she noticed, nothing around but the sound of an owl in the distance and the lap of the water against the shore.

It just didn't make any sense, the flowers, she thought. Why would someone be giving her flowers that had been in her wedding bouquet? It was ridiculous to think of Bobby being the one, because that would mean . . .

Well, why not, Carolyn? She chided herself. If one man can become a ghost after this death, then so could another. But why would Bobby haunt?

Bobby Muir had been a good man, and a good son. He had not been a good businessman and as much as she didn't like to dwell on it, not a good husband. They had been happy at times, but something had been wrong. She still wasn't sure what it was. But why would he be trying to get in touch with her? And why now?

"Oh Bobby," she sighed as she stopped to look out at the beach before her. He would have liked it here, she thought. Often he and his friends would go to Atlantic City or Cape May, fishing and doing men things. They had gone to Bethany Beach, a year after they were married for the summer, neither one of them wanting to come back home.

The image of her handsome husband floated through her mind and she had to smile. He had been such a boy, she knew now, and so weak, but at the time she had loved him so. He wouldn't understand why she had moved here though, it wouldn't have made sense to him. They had often fought because he said she had 'lofty thoughts.' 'Things that could not be done,' he claimed and 'no reason to want to do them.'

"You are going to freeze to death out here." Captain's Gregg voice made her feel warmer than a fire would have.

"I think I am a Popsicle," she laughed. "But I needed to get out for some fresh air. This is . . . well . . . it's strange."

"I agree," he walked over beside her, and put his arms around her. She buried her face in his coat and was thankful for his strong embrace that made her feel safe and loved.

"So, do you really think it's him?" Daniel asked her, finding that his lips couldn't form the man's name. "Why would he be doing such a thing?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," she sighed. "I've been standing here trying to figure it all out. I mean we had a good marriage, not a great one, but it was okay. Maybe we were both too young, I don't know, but we were in love and thought we couldn't wait. Sometimes though, I wondered if maybe I was the only one who was in love," She shrugged against his chest.

"Come on back to the house," he nudged her chin up with his hand. "It's cold out here and you need to get some sleep."

"I know," she nodded, enjoying the feel of his warm hands under her chin. "Walk back with me?"

"You don't have to ask twice." He placed an arm around her shoulders, leading her back toward Gull Cottage. They walked along in silence, enjoying each another's company, although they didn't say a word.

He left her at the bedroom door like a proper date with a kiss and promise to see her in the morning and she told him she was looking forward to it.

Once more undressing, she slipped back into bed, cuddled down under the covers, and soon fell fast asleep.

Daniel Gregg felt the disturbance as he materialized out onto the porch.

"Who's there?" he asked in his best 'Captain' voice, feeling the presence of the other spirit very strongly.

"Captain Gregg?" The form of a man in his early thirties appeared before him.

He was tall and blonde and handsome, with perfect, even teeth. He looked as though he would have a nice smile if he wasn't quite so nervous. "I'm Robert Muir, and I want to talk to you."

19-Chantal

The Captain's face remained impassive, but his eyes smoldered.

"What about?"

Bobby's manner wavered even further when he heard the flinty quality of the other spirit's reply.

"Please, Sir," he began in a conciliatory tone. "I don't wish any harm on anyone. But . . . this is something I need to do."

The Captain looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"This being what, exactly?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer, then closed it, looking at his feet as he searched for the proper words. When he looked up, his eyes were shiny with tears, and he spoke with a voice roughened by them.

"I'm not proud of a great many things in my life — and yes, some of those relate to Carolyn," he admitted guiltily. "And, well . . ."

He stopped as he saw the seaman come closer to him, his icy blue eyes never leaving his face. He swallowed convulsively as he considered the Captain: Bobby had always thought himself taller than most, but this man actually made him look up, something he hadn't had to do in some time. He eyed him silently, standing his ground, instinctively knowing the other man would frown on any other response from him.

"What exactly brings you here, Mr. Muir?" Daniel asked softly.

"Atonement."

The blue eyes narrowed further. "Why now?"

Bobby held the steely gaze for the space of a breath, then looked down again.

"Because I can't rest," he finally admitted in a whisper. "All those memories haunt me day and night; I can't even count on the oblivion of sleep." He looked up again, a hint of fire in his eyes. "Please, Captain, I beg you. Just . . . let me see her. Let me apologize to her — make my peace with her. I — " Bobby suddenly fell silent, staring at something behind the Captain's shoulder.

He turned. Carolyn was leaning against the doorjamb, pale as a sheet, her trembling hand against her mouth.

20-Anne

When the Captain finally faced Carolyn fully, he could tell from the look on her face that she was obviously shocked. But what should he do now? After all, Carolyn had once married Bobby Muir, and they had had two children. Now Daniel felt slightly sick too. The whole situation was awkward.

Finally Carolyn found her voice but could only bring out her deceased husband's name: "BOBBY!"

21-Kathy

"Carolyn!" his voice suddenly sounding like a teenage boy who was trying to ask a girl to a dance. "Carolyn, you look so, so, beautiful." He tried to step closer, but the figure of Daniel Gregg stood firmly between them, so Bobby merely smiled at her.

"Bobby?" she managed in that same quivering voice she had used the first time she had said his name. "Is it really you?" not caring that it sounded cliche. It certainly looked like him, tall, blonde, and handsome, yet lacking something. Funny she hadn't noticed that before.

"It's me Hemingway." He tried to give her a boyish smile, using the name he had used to tell her she had been working too hard on her 'scribblings' and not enough time with him. He meant it as term of endearment, but she had never quite taken it in that way.

"What do you want?" she asked, then, thinking it sounded a little too harsh, she asked, "I mean, why are you here, Bobby?" And she tried to soften her voice.

"I would like to talk to you privately, please." His blue eyes were pleading. "There is something very important I want to tell you, and ask you." His eyes searched hers and she felt a well of memories build up inside of her. They had had some wonderful times together and she had loved him.

"We can go for a walk." she told him, ignoring the glare that the Captain was giving her. "Along the beach."

"Please," her late husband said again. "It's very important to me."

Carolyn looked from the grey blue of Bobby Muir's eyes to the ocean blue ones of Daniel Gregg, and much to her surprise saw affirmation in the latter's.

"But I will be waiting for you to return," he said, in his most commanding voice.

"Thank-you sir." the younger spirit said, reaching for Carolyn's hand. Without thinking she laid hers in it and they together they walked off toward the shore.

He's kind of scary" Bobby said after they had walked a way from the house "Commandingly scary."

"He can be a little scary." Carolyn agreed, a smile forming on her face. "But really he's just a bunch of hot air. And a big marshmallow."

"Not that you would ever tell him that, right?"

"Not on your life . . . or . . . well . . . you know."

"That's okay." Bobby squeezed her hand. "I'm finally getting used to the fact that I am dead."

"So." She took a deep breath.

"I bet you have two questions," her late husband said for her. "Where have you been and why are you here?"

"Yes, that should cover it," she nodded, noticing for the first time what he was wearing. It was the blue trousers and the white dress shirt that she had met him in. He had looked so devastatingly handsome at the party, she thought, it hadn't taken much to get her attention. And the fact that he had shown her attention had been more than a little thrilling.

"After I died, it took me a while to realize that I was just that — dead. At first I just knew that you would be angry with me because I hadn't called and I thought I'd go to Mom and Dad's and stay there until you had calmed down. But it was all so strange, they couldn't seem to see me and even though I could see them I couldn't talk to them, or anything. And Mom was sitting in my old room, crying and I wanted to comfort her but couldn't. When it finally hit me what my mother was grieving about, I didn't want to believe it. So I tried to contact you, but I couldn't do that either."

They stopped walking and Carolyn asked him if he minded if they sat down, and he nodded.

"I decided I was going to stay at Mom and Dad's until I could figure out why I was haunting. I couldn't find a reason for it, but you were right, I was always a little stuck on myself and didn't want to admit I had done anything to deserve it."

"I didn't say you were stuck on yourself exactly," she put in. "I just said that you . . . well . . . that yes . . . you only ever thought of yourself. That was a very important weekend for us Bobby, and I was furious that you had decided to go away with the 'boys' instead of me and the children. And then when I heard that you had been killed I felt so guilty. Susannah said I shouldn't — that you had brought it all upon yourself. But I did and I couldn't help it."

"Don't grieve for me Carey," he said gently, touching her face with his fingertips. "I honestly don't deserve it. I was not a good husband to you or a good father to the children. I was too busy being good to me. I guess your father was right. You should have waited for me to become a man."

Carolyn didn't say what she was thinking, what her grandmother had said, that "That boy will never be the man you deserve."

"We were both pretty young," she admitted. "But we did have some good times, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," his blue eyes smiled down at her. "And it's because of those that I am here now. I'm so sorry Carey. I did love you, so much, but I never really realized how lucky I was. I know now I didn't take marriage or life very seriously and I wanted to find a way, even though it is a bit late to say I'm sorry and I hope you can forgive me."

"I do forgive you," she said softly, covering his hand with hers. "If you will forgive me as well."

"Nothing to forgive," he insisted. "I'm the one who let a good thing go. And, you know, if I had lived, I don't think I would have ever learned."

They sat quietly for a moment.

"Thank you for the flowers," she finally said.

"I didn't mean to frighten you with them," he apologized. "I just wanted to find a way to say hello, and I'm sorry, and in a way, I still love you."

"I love you, too, Bobby," she told him.

"Speaking of love, tell me about your Captain Gregg." He dropped down beside her.

"Why do you speak of him and 'love' at the same time?" She felt her face turning red.

"I never looked at you the way he looks at you. He is so in love with you, even I can see it. And you love him too, I can tell. And I want you to know that I'm very happy for you. I just hope he's not an idiot and doesn't realize until too late."

"Even though he is a . . . well, a ghost?"

"Even though! Especially though!"

"Bobby?" She suddenly figured something out. "We can touch, can't we?"

"Of course we can," he looked confused. "Why wouldn't we be able to?"

"Well, because I am . . . and you are . . ." She made the motions with her hands. "The Captain and I figured out we could touch, but only with the help of a puzzle ring."

"What puzzle ring?" It was his turn to look confused. "You aren't wearing one."

"I'm not?" She looked down at her finger. "No, I'm not!" She leapt off the rock in her joy.

"It's just a superstition about the power of puzzle rings, anyway," he told her. "You know that don't you? Gypsies or something."

"I do now. Thank-you Bobby."

"Anytime." He gave a sheepish grin. "I won't be seeing you around, but do have a great life."

She kissed his cheek, giving him a hug before he dematerialized from her sight.

"And now to find Daniel Gregg!"

Carolyn suddenly found herself full of energy, and walking back to the house wasn't fast enough. She ran until she was sure her heart would burst and her legs would give way. Spying the one she loved, she tried to call out his name, taking a deep breath and then yelling out his name loud and long:

"Daniel! Daniel Gregg!"

The seaman turned around at the sound of her voice, a smile breaking out on his face that seemed to make him glow.

"Carolyn!" He called out her name with the same joy, all the insecurities he had felt building from the minute she had taken Bobby Muir's hand, disappearing as she reached him and they fell into one another's arms.

"I love you," she said, in-between the kisses that they were hungrily sharing.

"I love you too," he said huskily.

And that was all they needed to know.

THE END