Another Life

by Tabitha12

What would have happened if Carolyn Muir had walked out her first night at Gull Cottage and the Captain hadn't brought her back? This story will try and tell just that. Day On Universe

3. Chapter 3

November 13, 1968

Carolyn sighed, blowing a stray hair out of her eyes. Here, alone at the Beacon, she could admit to herself how tired she was. The Albatross by itself would make her feel that way, so would being the head writer, janitor, secretary, and everything but boss at the SBB. Together, it was almost too much, but she could not let the children or Martha know how it was getting to her. A weak part of her wished for a strong man to lean on, just a little bit, and unbidden, the portrait at Gull Cottage flashed into her mind. For a second or two, his eyes had seemed so... kind. Grimly, she pushed the thought from her mind, and returned to organizing Mark's latest 'brilliant' idea, a 'This Week In History' feature. If it hadn't been ONE more thing for her to do, but no more pay for the one more thing, she might have found it interesting. Might as well get to it. She began sorting through the books and clippings on her desk.

Let's see, she thought to herself, Week of November 11-17. BBC begins broadcasting. St. Augustine is born. Lincoln elected. November 13, Captain Daniel Gregg commits suicide...

Carolyn stopped what she was doing, staring at the old paper. She had just told herself not to think about HIM any more. Suicide... no. That's not how he died. Very clearly, she could hear him telling her about his blasted foot and the blasted gas heater. As she read about his closed window and the gas, she recalled waking up cold that first day at Gull Cottage because of the open window. Had he opened the window, not to annoy her, but to keep her and the children from suffering a like-fate?

Did he care?

For the rest of the day, her mind kept flicking back to the article, to the man it was about. If she were honest with herself, Carolyn would admit that today was not the first time she'd caught herself thinking about Daniel Gregg.

Sometimes writing helped these moods... Maybe she could write about him and get the irritating, arrogant, handsome spirit off her mind…

XXX

On November eighteenth, at nine in the morning, two hours after Carolyn left for her job at the SBB, a knock came at the door of Albatross Manor, followed by the ringing of the doorbell.

"Hold on. I'm coming!" Martha shouted. "Keep your shirt on!" Reaching the door, she opened it to find Ed Peavey, painter and general handyman, on the other side. She looked at him with some surprise.

"Why, Mister Peavey! What on earth are you doing here? I thought I had seen the last of you when you ran out of Gull Cottage!" She smiled. "Now if I knew you were coming, I'd have baked a pie."

"Well, Miz Grant, I'm here to work, but I'd welcome one when I'm done. And please, just call me Ed, everyone does. I wish you would bake a pie — especially since you mentioned it first. Everyone says you are the best cook in Schooner Bay."

"Well, thank you... Ed," Martha said, blushing. "But I still don't understand. You are here to work? Doing what? Not that there isn't at least ten things I can think of that this place needs, but…"

"Claymore Gregg sent me out here to fix the roof," Ed explained. "Understand you have been havin' a few problems with it?"

"Mister Peavey…" Martha began reluctantly. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that! I know Claymore Gregg owns this place, such as it is, but I just know there's been some kind of mistake here. Mrs. Muir can't possibly afford to pay you to fix the roof this month. It's just not in the budget. We're keeping our fingers crossed for no snow or rain until next month, then maybe…"

"Now, don't you worry none about that, Martha," Ed interrupted. "There's no charge…"

Martha stared at the handyman in shock. "I knew my pie was good, but that good?"

The handyman shook his head. "No, ma'am. Not you. I'm gettin' paid! But Claymore Gregg has promised to take care of my bill." He gave her a sly wink. "But your pie might just be that good!"

"We'll remember that for the next emergency," Martha joked, sensing a new fan.

"Then again, might not!" the painter added as an afterthought. "Have to taste it first."

"Mister Peavey, YOU are in for a treat."

XXX

When the children came home that day after stopping to see the Captain, Ed was still there. He had left for the day by the time Carolyn arrived home at eight-thirty that evening and arrived after she had departed for work the next morning, but in three days, the roof was finally repaired, much to everyone's relief. And just in time, for the day after the painter had made his farewells, taking one of Martha's meringues home with him, the annual rainy season started. And stayed. And stayed.

XXX

Daniel Gregg stood on his 'bridge' Thanksgiving Day and scowled.

Blast this weather! He fumed to himself. Will it never stop? If I can make a thunderstorm, why can't I stop one?

The children hadn't been by since Friday, the twenty-second. Riding bicycles to school was all very fine when the weather was fair, but the roads had turned to mud with the rains, and that had only taken one day. After the rain was well underway, he had observed the Muir family's station wagon make the daily trip into town carrying the children and their mother each morning. He saw it return to the Albatross with only Martha, then, in the afternoon, the trip was repeated to pick them up, and then repeated again, much later in the evening to pick up Carolyn Muir.

The week had been interminably long.

Nothing is right around here anymore, he sighed to himself, transporting to his wheelhouse. Daniel, you need to stop this mooning. Stay busy, that's the ticket. You managed perfectly well, by yourself, for more than a hundred years with almost no company at all, save a fellow specter's visit once in a while, and here you are, sulking…

Arriving in the attic, he started searching around in every nook and cranny. He still had not found just the right thing to give Candy and Jonathan for their birthdays, and although they had insisted that they didn't need anything, and understood, after all he was a ghost, and that they would have to explain where the gifts had come from, he still wanted to do something for them, even if it was belated. Convincing that miserly squid to fix the roof wasn't really as much for the children as it was for… the family. The WHOLE family.

Jonathan would like any sort of nautical tool or some such. Where was that compass? And he wanted Candy to have something pretty, despite her tomboyish inclinations. He certainly picked up enough of that sort of flotsam for Vanessa. He began looking through a large 'hope chest.' What was that? He pulled out the shawl. How lovely it still is after so much time, he thought I remember how beautiful I thought it would look on Vanessa…

But when Daniel Gregg focused on the memory, all he could see was a young blonde widow wearing it.

XXX

Jonathan stared out the window at the drizzle Friday afternoon, the day after Thanksgiving.

"Blast…" he sighed. "Candy, it's NEVER going to stop!"

"The weatherman said it's supposed to be clear tomorrow," Candy answered, coming up behind him at the window. "Mom said that was the best birthday present she could have, other than ours, of course. But she says that every year. That our presents are the best, I mean. I think she liked your painted rock paperweight."

"She liked the God's eye you made for her, too," said Jonathan. "But "I can't believe that Mister Finley made her work today," Jonathan continued. "I kinda thought she would get Friday off, like us."

"Grownups don't get the same holidays as kids do," Candy answered knowingly.

"And Mister Finley doesn't give any," Jonathan agreed, nodding his head. "I think he's a worse boss than Claymore would be."

"Well, at least Mister Gregg got Mister Peavey to repair the roof." Candy sighed and breathed on the window, creating fog on the glass pane and started to draw a horse's head. "Besides, busy is busy. Tomorrow Mom's working on her own story here while Martha goes to that cooking fair in Keystone with Millie Applegate. But she'll be home."

"But still working," Jonathan sighed.

"Yeah, but if we get our chores done early, maybe she'll let us play in the afternoon, and if the weather is nice, we can go see Captain Gregg!"

"That'd be great!" The little boy's face looked more cheerful. "I'm worried about him."

"What can happen to a ghost?" Candy asked, puzzled.

"Nothing can HAPPEN to him, I don't think, but I'm worried about him," Jonathan explained. "We haven't seen him for a week, and he's gotta be wondering what happened to us. We never got a chance to tell him why we couldn't come over after school and play with him."

"I thought about that, too, but I decided he's figured it out, Jonathan." Candy smiled. "For one thing, he knows we can't go outside as much or ride our bikes in the rain, and besides, he's probably seen us drive past Gull Cottage. He knows we're okay."

"Still rather be at Gull Cottage than stuck here," Jonathan said, staring out the window again.

"It's better now that the roof doesn't leak, though," his sister answered, looking more cheerful. "And Mom and Martha are happy, too. I can tell."

"Uh huh," Jonathan answered. "But I still wish I could have helped Mister Peavey with the roof, though. Climbing around up there would've been fun."

"You're still too little," Candy answered, in her best big sister tone. "You're only just six. That's too young to be climbing around on ladders and roofs."

"Mister Peavey didn't let you climb up on the ladder, either," Jonathan pointed out swiftly. "And you're eight, now."

"I got to get up on the step-stool and hand him things, though," Candy said, defensively. "But you know what, Jonathan?"

"What?"

"Well, Mister Peavey said Claymore paid him to fix the roof, and when he told Mom, he seemed real surprised that Claymore had done that. So you know what I think? I think Captain Gregg somehow made Claymore pay for the roof, instead of making Mom pay."

Jonathan nodded. "That makes sense."

"So, you know what else I was thinking?" Candy continued, in a serious tone.

"What?"

"Well, you know that first day when we moved into Gull Cottage? We did a lot of cleaning. And it was getting so shipshape when Mom packed us up and we left, but it never got finished. Martha says, half-done looks worse than not done at all."

"I've heard her say that a lot," Jonathan agreed, turning away from the window and sitting on the edge of his bed. "So what were you thinking?"

"Well, it's just that Captain Gregg is so nice…" Candy followed her brother to the beds and sat on her own. "Maybe we could help him get the rest of Gull Cottage all shipshape and Bristol fashion? I think we ought to. He's been trying to keep Gull Cottage more orderly, I can tell, but maybe we could finish the painting Mister Peavey started that first day?"

"Why?" her brother asked, surprise clear on his face. "Gull Cottage isn't our house. It's Claymore's. I mean, he owns it, even if Captain Gregg says Gull Cottage really belongs to him. Besides, Mom has been spending all her money fixing up the Albatross, and he hasn't even given her back all the money she has spent on that yet."

"But wouldn't it be nice if Gull Cottage WAS our house?" Candy argued. "Besides, if we could help the Captain finish tidying his place up, it would kinda be a thank-you for him doing so much for us, like with school, and for helping us with our costumes, and all the other neat stuff he's taught us."

Jonathan looked excited. "Say! That is a cool idea! Mister Peavey never did go back and get his paint or ladder from that day he was there. The ladder he had when he was fixing the roof was brand new. I saw his old stuff at Gull Cottage just last week. And I've watched him, Candy. The Captain, I mean. I've seen him glare at the wall in the living room that Mister Peavey didn't finish. It bothers him, I can tell. I think he would be happy to see it all painted. I wish Mom and Martha could help, though. They're getting really good at painting."

"Mom doesn't have time," Candy answered, shaking her head. "She says Mister Finley keeps her super busy…"

"And she's writing that story now for that magazine in Boston, too…" Jonathan agreed. "What's the name of it?"

"Feminine View," Candy answered. "Mommy says her story is about a sea captain and a girl stowaway."

"Did she name the sea captain Daniel Gregg?" Jonathan asked. "That would be neat."

"Nope — Joshua Webster," Candy answered. "But she is going to be busy tomorrow trying to get it finished, even if her deadline is Tuesday, because she has to be back at work for the SBB on Monday."

"Well, at least she gets to rest on Sunday," the boy sighed.

"Yeah, in the afternoon, after church, if she gets done with her story on Saturday, and if she decides not to start writing anything else," Candy sighed. "But anyway, maybe we can help Captain Gregg this weekend. I bet we COULD paint that wall as good as Mister Peavey can."

"Betcha we could," Jonathan gave a definite nod. "Okay. When the Captain asks us what we want to do this weekend, we can tell him we want to help HIM for a change. Then we can paint." He sighed. "I sure have missed him this week!"

"Me, too. And I haven't even got to show him that ship I drew," Candy added. "You know. The one I got an 'A' on. I was thinking I might let him have it."

"That's nice. Why?"

"Just because. Besides, Captain Gregg has extra picture frames. He can get it all framed and hung up faster than Mom can. Besides, there's no good place for it here. There would be at Gull Cottage."

"Mom would make room," Jonathan argued.

"I know, but I still think I might give it to Captain Gregg," Candy said in a definite tone of voice.

"You know, I think I'll give him my clay model of his monkey-puzzle tree," her brother said thoughtfully. "He'll like it, even if my teacher DIDN'T know what it was!"

Together, the children continued to plan.

XXX

Candy and Jonathan had never been so happy to see the sun as they were Saturday, November thirtieth. The weatherman, for a change, was true to his word, and they woke up to the first bright, clear day in what seemed like forever. Martha had already left for Keystone with Millie Applegate by the time they awoke, and nobody could have been more surprised than Carolyn Muir when the two fixed breakfast by themselves (cold cereal) and started their weekend chores without being pulled away from Saturday morning cartoons.

By noon, they had finished all that was assigned to them and then some. Then, after eating two hastily prepared peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking a glass of milk, they fixed two more for Carolyn, poured her a glass of milk also, put the lunch on a tray and tapped on the door of her bedroom. At her "come in," they entered, and watched for a moment as she pounded away on her old Royal typewriter.

"Oh! Kids!" Carolyn looked startled. "What are you doing up here? I thought you were doing your chores." Candy started to say something, but her mother stopped her. "Never mind, you need a break… listen to this…"

Inwardly rolling his eyes, Jonathan put the tray of food he was carrying on a side table, and both gave Carolyn their undivided attention as she began to read. When she finished the page, she continued speaking. "Well? "What do you think?"

Candy and Jonathan looked at each other, doubtfully.

"I think you need to eat some lunch, Mom," Jonathan began.

"Well, come on! It can't be THAT bad!" Carolyn exclaimed. "Really, how do you like it?"

"Well, it sounds like it could be exciting…" Candy began. "I like the heroine's name, Caroline, but…"

"And I like the name of the ship," Jonathan cut in, sensing a rescue was needed. "The Falcon is a cool name, but…" The boy stopped, realizing there was no way he could explain that the name of Daniel Gregg's schooner was the Mary Anne.

"But what?" Carolyn burst out, frustrated. "I've been working…" She suddenly eyed the lunch the children had brought in. "…All morning on this story."

"Well, it IS exciting, but you have a few things wrong." Jonathan said reluctantly.

"Yeah," Candy affirmed. "It's not sheets, it's sails."

"And it's seamen, not sailors," Jonathan added. "And Cap… that is, nobody would be up in the crow's nest during a storm,"

"And it's lines, not ropes," Candy added.

"It's decks, and portholes, not floors and windows," said Jonathan.

"And if his crew is all locked up in the brig, and Joshua Webster WAS up in the crow's nest who's at the wheel?" Candy asked.

"You're sure?" Carolyn asked doubtfully.

They nodded, vigorously. "I think you can fix it though," Jonathan added. "Other than that, it's real good."

Carolyn sighed. "Okay. I will take your comments under advisement. I guess I better do a little more research…" She pulled a book from a stack she had at the side of her small desk, wishing she had just a little more table space. "What are you guys doing up here, anyway?"

"We brought you some lunch, Mom, and we finished our chores." Jonathan said, gesturing to the tray.

"Yeah, and the roads have dried up, kinda, and we were wondering…" Candy went on.

"…Can we go ride our bikes?" Jonathan interrupted.

"I didn't realize it was so late already," Carolyn sighed. "And that's MAY…" she added, looking tired.

"MAY we go ride our bikes?"

Their mother smiled. "I don't see why not. Are you sure you have done everything on your list? I can't stop to check it all right now."

They both nodded again.

"Yes, and we washed the car, and Scruffy, too," Candy added.

"That was sort of an accident," Jonathan admitted. "He got in the way of the hose, so we decided we better give him a bath, so he didn't get wet for nothing."

"Very well," Carolyn nodded, and started reading the typewritten sheet she was holding in her hand. "Be back by four-thirty. Martha won't be back until late, and I might need some help with supper. Understand?"

Both children nodded once more, and a few minutes later, they were on their bikes and headed down the road, Scruffy barking at their heels.

XXX

Daniel Gregg sensed the children coming from three blocks away and met them at the door. From the looks on their faces, he knew they were as glad to be there as he was to see them.

"Good afternoon, children, and a happy, albeit, belated Thanksgiving," Daniel beamed.

"Happy Thanksgiving, be it belated!" they chorused in return.

"We sure missed you!" Jonathan said.

"Yeah. If I could hug you, I would," Candy said. "I hope you weren't worried, or too lonesome?"

Daniel smiled. "Given the weather, I preferred that you were unable to visit. I'd have hated to think of you walking or riding your bikes in that deluge. But, I did miss you…" he confessed, tugging his earlobe. Glancing at the dog, who was looking up at him with a happy expression, the ghost added, "…all of you. Now, what have you two been up to?"

Exchanging pleased looks, Candy and Jonathan pulled out the objects they'd been half-hiding. "We made these for you," Candy explained, extending the picture as Jonathan held out the sculpture.

Daniel blinked. No one had ever done anything like this for him before. Carefully, he took the sheet of paper. "This is a ship. It looks like my ship."

Flushed with pride and excitement, Candy nodded. "It's not exactly like it, but..."

"It is quite accurate, and I know just the place for it," Daniel assured her. "It will need a frame, but there should be one around here, somewhere." Then, his attention turned to the statue. It looked remotely familiar, but for the life of him, Daniel was not too sure what it was supposed to be. "Now... this is remarkable!" he exclaimed.

"My teacher couldn't guess what it was, but I told her about how it was called a monkey-puzzle tree because of how monkeys can't climb 'em," Jonathan blurted out.

Relieved, Daniel nodded. "Indeed they can't. This will look perfect on the mantle." His smile was genuine when he looked down at them. "Thank you, children. These are the best gifts I've had in... ages. Now, are you in the mood for some fishing?" The two shook their heads, and the seaman stared at them in surprise. "No fishing? What about beach-combing, then? It has warmed up quite a bit since even yesterday."

"Nope!" the little boy said, but his eyes were twinkling.

"Candy?" The Captain turned to her. "What is it? What WOULD you two like to do today?"

"PAINT!" they answered together.

"You mean paint a picture?" he asked, looking puzzled. "I don't think I have any materials here for that — unless you brought some with you."

"No, Captain," Candy shook her head. "Not like art! Jonathan and I have been thinking… we know you chased Mister Peavey away from your house that first day we were here because he called you a sea dog and said you didn't scare him, and…"

"…And you had to prove you could too scare him," Jonathan continued. "But Captain, you goofed. You shouldn't have chased him away until he finished the painting."

"You might have a point." The Captain grinned, in spite of himself. "So?"

"So we want to finish painting the wall he didn't finish, Captain!" Candy said triumphantly. "We've been watching Mom and Martha. It isn't that hard, and you only have the one wall and a bit of another one…"

"Yeah, the rest of the area over the right of the mantle where your picture is, and the wall on the other side," Jonathan added. "We want to do it for you."

"Mister Peavey left all his equipment here," Candy interjected, gesturing to a far corner. "The paint should still be sort of mixed, but we can stir it up really good, and I bet we could finish the walls this afternoon!"

"But children, this is work!" the spirit protested. "Wouldn't you rather play? Relax? Haven't you been doing chores this morning? I wouldn't want you to…"

"Aww, Captain," Jonathan interrupted. "It would be fun! Mom and Martha have been doing all the painting and stuff at the Albatross, and we haven't got to do any of it."

"She may have had a good reason for that, Jonathan. You are too young to be climbing around on ladders."

"But boys on your ship got to!"

"That was the only way to get around, and they only climbed around on the ratlines. But they were not allowed any part in the tarring down — weatherproofing the sails." His face darkened. "I saw a few men die that way… falling from a mast."

"We don't have to do the high part of the ceiling…" Candy coaxed.

"But I wanted…" Jonathan started, but Candy kicked his ankle, silencing her brother, and continued.

"You can do the top parts, Captain. It'll be easier for you anyway. Jonathan and I can do the low parts."

"We REALLY want to do this for you," Jonathan said, turning his soulful blue eyes to the spirit. "Please?"

"Pl-e-e-a-a-s-e?" Candy added. "Really! It'll be fun, and it won't take too long, and I bet we'll even have time for a walk on the beach before we have to go home."

"You're sure that you really want to spend this afternoon painting?"

The children nodded their heads again.

"Very well," the ghost said, shaking his head at the contrariness of children. Just when you thought you had them worked out… "But once we start, we can't stop. You can't get bored halfway through and quit."

"We won't!" they chorused.

"And I'll do that area over the fireplace that isn't finished yet," he said firmly. "Number one, it's too high, number two, I rehung my portrait after the oaf left that day, and I don't want any paint spatters on it. Understood?"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

XXX

In ten minutes, the ladder had been set up, a drop cloth placed around the area and the paint opened and stirred.

"Wait a moment, children…" Captain Gregg stopped Candy just as she was putting the brush in the can. Sighing, the girl put it down again.

"What is it, Captain?"

"I just realized something. You can't paint in those clothes."

"Why not?" Jonathan asked. "They're old."

"Yeah, that's why we wore them while we were doing chores, Captain," Candy tried to explain. "It won't matter if they get dirty or sweaty."

"But it WILL matter if you get paint on them, my dears," the seaman smiled. "I don't think your mother, or that housekeeper of yours would appreciate it — or understand where the paint CAME from."

"We'll be extra careful…" Jonathan started.

"I can't count on that one-hundred percent, lad," he smiled again. "Also remember. Claymore turned off the water. You have no way of washing the paint off your hands, let alone your clothes."

"I found some gloves, Captain," said Candy. "Rubber gloves. They stretch. We can wear them and keep the paint off and if we do get a little on, we can go down and wash off in the ocean before we go home."

Daniel Gregg nodded. "Excellent thought, but your clothes…" he broke off again, but then an idea struck him. "Wait a minute… I think I might have some things of mine packed away upstairs. Old-fashioned shirts and whatnot. I wonder… maybe if I could find them, and we could put one over each of you... that just might work!" He looked at their delighted faces. "You two stay here. I'll just pop up in the wheelhouse and look!"

The moment the seaman was gone, Jonathan turned to his sister. "I want to get on the ladder first," he demanded, not asked.

"Uhh-uh," Candy answered. "No, Jonathan. You're too little. You get to do the parts near the ground. You heard the Captain. He doesn't want you climbing on ladders. He and I will handle those parts."

"He didn't say you could get on the ladder either!" Jonathan protested. "That's not fair!"

"I don't mean w-a-a-a-a-y up on the ladder, Jonathan. Just a couple of steps, maybe three or four to reach the middle part of the wall. Captain Gregg gets to do up by the ceiling."

"I still don't think it's fair," the little boy grumbled. "Just because you're older…"

"It's not just that, Jonathan…" she started, then stopped, refraining from saying that her younger brother could be a true klutz at times. "…It's just that… well, you just can't. Or me either."

"I think you're just being bossy."

"Am not!"

"Are, too!"

"Am not, and if you don't stop, I'm going to tell the Captain, that you're fussing and he won't let you paint at all!"

"Yes he will, and you're not the boss of me! Captain Gregg is!"

"Well, HE said you couldn't climb on the ladder, either!"

"No, he…" the boy paused. "Well, maybe he did, but I think he forgot I just had a birthday, so I am older now…"

"Not old enough. Now knock it off."

"Okay, Candy," the boy grumbled, going over to stir the paint once more. "I still think I could do it though. Just a little." He paused and stirred the paint again. "Sea green IS a neat color. I can't wait to see what the rest of the room will look like when it's all done."

"Yeah then maybe the Captain will stop glaring at the wall when he thinks we're not looking," his sister answered. She went to the window and opened it. "It will keep the smell down," she explained, seeing Jonathan's questioning look. Candy paced back and fourth and looked up at the ceiling, almost as if she thought she could see through it. "I wonder what's keeping him? I think I know where those old clothes are… he'll be up there all day." She looked at her brother. "I'll go help him look, Jonathan. You stay here and… stir the paint some more, okay?"

"Okay, Candy," he answered, entirely too agreeably.

"Don't touch anything," Candy said, and in a moment, she was off.

XXX

"Haven't you found the shirts yet, Captain?" Candy asked, entering the attic. "I thought you said you knew where they were."

"I thought I DID know," the Captain fumed, digging through his favorite sea chest.

"They aren't in there," Candy said, tapping her foot. "Don't you remember? We saw them a couple of weeks ago when Jonathan asked to look at your medals. They're in that trunk, over there, I'm pretty sure." She pointed toward a smaller chest near the loveseat.

The ghost shook his head. "I checked there."

"No," Candy argued, going over to the chest and opening it. "Not on top. Your really good stuff is on top. You had to levitate the top compartment… your old clothes were underneath!" The little girl shook her head at the absent-mindedness of adults, spirit or not.

"By, George, you're right!" the Captain grinned, levitating out the upper compartment and revealing the antique shirts underneath. "Here they are. Clever girl! I think you…" He was cut off mid-sentence by a loud thump, a clatter and a scream.

Girl looked at ghost and ghost looked at girl, and for a moment, they stood there frozen. Then the Captain recovered himself. "Jonathan…"

"Oh, BLAST!" Candy whispered, turning and looking up at the tall seaman. "I bet he tried to climb that ladder!"

"I'll meet you downstairs, Candy," he said, dematerializing.

A minute later Candy joined the Captain in the living room, where Jonathan lay on the ground next to the fireplace, bleeding profusely from somewhere on his head. Where, precisely was indefinite, Candy thought as she peered through the boy's blonde locks. Her brother was wide-awake and seemed quite lucid, but he was crying, and scared.

"What happened?" Candy asked, "Jonathan…?"

"There's been an accident," the seaman said thickly, feeling his own heart in his throat, even though technically he didn't have a heart anymore.

Reaching closer, Candy tried to move more of Jonathan's hair away to inspect the damage. The boy cried louder and flinched. "I WANT MY MOMMY!" he wailed.

"Oh, gee, oh, no…" Candy gulped, pulling her hand back and tears springing to her eyes. "Captain, he's really bleeding… where's the blood coming from? I mean exactly? I can't tell... Jonathan, does it hurt? I mean, a lot? Captain, what are we going to do? Can you fix him?"

"Candy, I want Mommy…" the boy said again, tearfully.

"Mom's gonna KILL me," Candy said. "I'm supposed to take care of Jonathan, and I didn't… Captain, how bad is he hurt?"

"I... I can't tell, my dear," the Captain answered, getting as close to the boy as he could.

"But you know everything…" the little girl started.

"Candy, dear, I can't touch him, remember? So I can't examine him closely enough through the blood to find out."

"We need rags and water or something to get rid of some of it," Candy said, sniffing a bit. "Then you'll know what to do."

"There is no blasted water," the seaman growled. "That scurvy skinflint, Claymore had it turned off again after you all moved out, remember? I told you earlier…"

"I want Mom…" Jonathan whimpered. "It hurts. Mom can make it better."

"You better go get your mother, Candy," Captain Gregg said, looking uncomfortable, wishing it was himself bleeding in front of the fireplace. Blast, he thought. I haven't been around a hurting child in more than a hundred years! I could help the cabin boys on my ship, but I can't help this lad I care for so much!

"I want Candy to stay here…" Jonathan sniffed. "Candy, don't leave."

"It'll take too long to get home," his sister said, practically. "It's a half a mile away, and the roads are still muddy. Jonathan needs Mom, now. You can pop faster than I can pedal, Captain. You need to go get her. Martha is in Keystone. You won't run into her, or anything, if that's what's bugging you. Besides, Mom HAS met you. She won't be scared." She turned back to her brother. "I'll stay with Jonathan."

"I am NOT afraid of running into your housekeeper, Candy!" the spirit huffed, and disappeared, silently. "Double blast…" he whispered. "I was hoping SOMETHING would bring Carolyn Muir to Gull Cottage again, but nothing like this!"

XXX
Carolyn was still in her office/bedroom reading over the corrections she'd made to her story, at her children's insistence. Suddenly, there was a slight change in the room's atmosphere. On reflex, she looked up to see Daniel Gregg standing over her. For a split second, she thought her restless imagination had conjured up a figment. She closed her eyes and shook her head violently then opened them again. No, the spirit was still there.

"C-Captain Gregg?"

"Aye, Madam," he replied gently, unsure how to go about how to break the news without saying 'Your son is bleeding all over my fireplace.' Most likely the woman will faint...

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, recovering herself. "Wait… let me guess. Claymore finally decided to have you exorcized, and you picked this place to move to, right? No… You are a figment and I am imagining you because somehow you found out I have been working on this blasted story about a sea captain LIKE you all weekend."

"Madam, I am not a figment. You need to put your story... about ME?" He paused for a moment and looked pleased. "...That paper... down and listen." His tone was serious, but kind.

Carolyn put the manuscript she had been reading face down on her desk. "What is it, Captain Gregg?" she asked, her voice tired. "I've been leaving you alone, just as I said I would. I'll forget about the story. I promise. Even if it is finished and even if I DID change your name."

He closed his eyes for a split second. Female, eternally female. There was no time for that, however. "Blast it, Madam, as long as your account of my exploits is done accurately and in good taste, I'm quite... pleased with the idea of..." he broke off. This was not the proper moment for that. "...This is about Jonathan. He and Candy were visiting me, and there was a bit of an accident..."

Instantly, all irritation and fatigue vanished from Carolyn's face. "Jonathan? Is he hurt? How badly?"

"I have no way of knowing, but he needs you. Candy is taking care of him, but there is little that can be done there, yet."

"What happened?" She reached for the sweater on the back of her chair, "Never mind. We can discuss that later. What do I need to bring? Are we talking broken bones or blood?" she asked, all business.

The spirit blinked. This was not at all the reaction he expected. "Uhm… blood." By this time they were halfway to the kitchen.

"Blood… okay. That means I'll need rags… " Quickly she started pulling old but clean wash rags and small towels from a drawer. "Did Claymore turn off the water at Gull Cottage after we left?" she demanded of the spirit.

"Yes, the blasted barnacle."

Quickly she started filling a small pail full of warm water.

"We'll need this then. Tell me…" She paused. "Blood… Candy… Jonathan… You here not at Gull Cottage where you belong. How did this happen?"

"Yes, you see the children have… well, they have been..."

"Yes…?"

"Blast it. They... they've been visiting with me at Gull Cottage. Have been since Scruffy got into my house one afternoon about a month-and-a-half ago. We've grown to be friends. They are rather hard to resist, you know, you children, and…"

"…And?"

"Madam…" he started again. "I am truly sorry, I had no way of knowing the lad would want to climb the ladder that much. I never should have left him alone…"

"Jonathan. Climbing. Figures," she sighed. "You can tell me more later, Captain Gregg, Right now we better get moving." She looked at her watch. "Wonderful. Dr. Feeney will still be in his office… I hope it's not his new assistant. I hate the idea of being treated by someone younger than I am…" By now they were at the front door, rags and bucket in hand.

"Fine. Well. Glad to see you are taking this so… so calmly, Mrs. Muir. I'll meet you back at Gull Cottage then?"

"Fine, nothing…" she retorted. "You'll have to ride back to your house with me. I need someone to hold the bucket of water. If I ride over these bumpy, muddy roads with it in my car, unguarded, there won't be any water left by the time we get there."

"You want me to ride WITH you? In… in that contraption? In an automobile? Madam, I have never ridden in a car…"

"Then it is time you did," she replied, giving him, much to his surprise, an enchanting smile. "Now, no arguments."

"But…"

"Captain. The children are waiting for us."

"Aye," he nodded. For a moment, he was almost tempted to give the determined mother a salute, but the feeling passed. Together, the two made their way to the car.

XXX

On the way back to Gull Cottage, holding the bucket of water as requested, the seaman gave the young widow a quick rundown of the last month and a half, telling again of meeting the children and their adventures while getting to know each other, and how the accident happened. "Blast it, I never should have left them," he fumed. "I never have before… And blast that water-rat Claymore, for shutting off the water again, and blast me, too. I should have made him take better care of Gull Cottage… if he had, this never would have happened… I should have harpooned that barnacle ages ago!"

"Hmm," was Carolyn's only response as she negotiated over a pothole. "Water-rat. Harpoon. Barnacle. Blast. Well, at least that answers one of my little mysteries of late... your language!" She paused. "Captain... the night we met... I was rather under the impression that having a family about... children... that we would only be a bother to you."

"Not at all, Madam," Daniel Gregg said quietly, and looked out the window.

XXX

Fighting an overwhelming feeling of… peace as they drove up to Gull Cottage, Carolyn stopped the car in front of the stone gate, threw open the car door and made a run for the inside. Waiting a moment to allow the mother to get to her children first, he grabbed the bucket and rags, and dematerialized, rematerializing in the living room, only seconds after Carolyn. She was already mopping Jonathan's bleeding head as he popped in. Much to the seaman's relief, the boy had stopped crying and was looking very alert. A good sign.

"Well, Jonathan…" She looked at the little boy square in the eye. "Didn't I tell you that you were too young to climb on ladders?" Jonathan nodded and glanced at the seaman. "Yes," she continued. "Captain Gregg told me what happened."

"I'm sorry, Mommy…" he started, but his mother interrupted him. Only Daniel noticed that her hands shook slightly as she continued to clean the area of the boy's wound, located right at the scalp line on the right side of his head.

"Tell me again…" she smiled, relieved that the injury didn't look nearly as bad as it had before the blood was cleaned up. "How did this happen? Your story." She looked at both children.

"It was my fault, Mom," said Jonathan. "We were going to finish the painting Mister Peavey started. I wanted to prove I was too old enough to climb on a ladder, so I waited until Candy and the Captain were up in the wheelhouse…"

"Wheelhouse?"

"…Attic, getting paint shirts, and I climbed up the ladder, and I lost my balance and I fell."

"No, it was my fault," Candy maintained. "I wasn't watching him. I shouldn't have left the room, but I did. I was just in a hurry for the Captain to find the shirts."

"But why did you want to paint the room to begin with?"

"We just wanted to thank the Captain for everything he's done for us," Jonathan said mournfully. "It was going to be fun. We do LOTS of fun stuff together… but I guess I really messed up. I was just trying to help. I'm really sorry!"

"I understand, Jonathan. These things do happen, whether you are sorry or not…" She let out a breath, and examined the wound with what could only be called a practiced eye. "But it looks like stitches to me… my guess would be five." She turned to Candy, and then back to Jonathan. "Well, a fall from a ladder while trying to do something nice is better than the time you, Candy, were doing back-flips on my bed, and fell, and cut your leg open. Or when you, Jonathan, pulled a cup of boiling hot coffee over on yourself, or when you, Candy, accidentally hit your brother over the head with your baseball bat!" She sighed again. "But once, just once, it would be nice to get through a holiday with no stitches… no blood, and no emergencies!"

The Captain started. "They do this a lot?"

Carolyn nodded. "Sure. They're kids."

He shook his head in wonder. "I've never known a woman who could keep her head at the sight of blood."

"It goes with the territory. When you are around children, you get used to it." She peered into her son's eyes again, carefully. They weren't unevenly dilated, and he was still wide-awake. "Here…" she said. Rinsing and wringing out a wet rag once more, she plopped it on his head, covering the wound. "…Hold this right there, Jonathan. I think the bleeding has stopped, mostly, but you DO need stitches. We need to get you to Doctor Feeney." She stood up, and picked up her son, holding him close. "Thank-you, Captain Gregg, for coming to get me. I'll come back and get the bucket later… no, I guess Candy can carry that stuff…"

"Allow me, Madam," the seaman interrupted. "It's the least I can do."

"Thank you."

"Hey, Mom?"

"What is it, Candy?" she asked, turning to her daughter.

"You're going to be busy… you know, with Jonathan. Martha won't be back until later. I can stay with Captain Gregg…"

Carolyn smiled. "Nice try, Honey, but for all anyone knows, this house is empty. I can't leave you here, for all intents and purposes, alone." She glanced at the ghost. "Even though you know, and I know, you wouldn't be." She gave the seaman another enchanting smile, definitely indicating what she wasn't angry about what had happened. "I'm afraid you are going to have to come and sit in the waiting room, Candy."

Daniel nodded. "Your mother is right, dear one. You need to go with her now."

"But doctors offices are boring, unless I'm the one that's hurt, and sometimes even then it is."

"You could take this book with you, child," The seaman said, spiriting a volume into his hand. "An old volume of fairytales my mother gave to me."

"Wow…" the little girl said, breathlessly. "Thanks, Captain!"

"Take good care of it. You and Jonathan will have to share." He looked at Carolyn. "It's the least I can do for them after… after all that has happened," he added, humbly.

"Can we stop and see the Captain on the way home?" Jonathan demanded.

"May we, and maybe," she said, looking up into the seaman's blue eyes, and for a second, he swore that her cheeks were stained a brighter shade of pink. "We'll see." Carolyn smiled again, and a few moments later, they were in the car, headed for Schooner Bay.

XXX

Captain Gregg had no way of knowing how things were going at the doctor's office, but the hours were certainly dragging for him. Despite Mrs. Muir's confidence that Jonathan would be all right and assurance that children were prone to do things like this, he was worried. Once, he could have spent a happy afternoon on sea charts, but now, his concentration was "shot," as the kids might say. Would Candy and Jonathan ever be back? Would she ALLOW them to come back? Near twilight, when he sensed their approach from his station on the widow's-walk, Daniel knew he hadn't been so relieved about anything since before his death. Realizing they were actually slowing down in front of the house, he teleported himself inside.

Carolyn looked at her son in the car seat next to her. "Are you sure you don't want to just go home, Jonathan, and we can see the Captain tomorrow?"

"No, Mom," The boy shook his head. "I feel fine. It doesn't even hurt…"

"Honey, that's because the numbness hasn't worn off yet."

"It has a little bit, and I STILL feel fine. It was only four stitches. Mom, we gotta see the Captain tonight and tell him he doesn't have to worry about me."

"All right, but the doctor DID say you need to get your rest. You…"

"Hey!" Jonathan interrupted. "Look! The lights are on!"

"Yeah!" Candy chorused. "C'mon, Mom… Captain Gregg is waiting for us!"

"You're… sure?" she asked her children hesitantly, but followed as they opened the car doors, scrambled over the gate and ran up the flagstone walk, Scruffy running after them. As they reached the porch, the door swung open, invitingly, and when they reached the living room, a fire blazed in the fireplace.

"Good evening, Madam…" He looked at her hesitantly. "Good evening, children." Scruffy gave a bark of welcome. "You too, shag-rug," he added, affectionately.

"Hi, Captain!" they chorused, and made a beeline for the fireplace, settling before it. "It always feels so warm and cozy here," Candy added.

"Yeah, all we need are some marshmallows," said Jonathan.

"Marshmallows?"

"Yeah, Captain! For toasting in the fireplace!" the boy elaborated. "Hey, Captain, you would have been really proud of me at the doctors. I didn't cry! And Mom was wrong… I only needed four stitches."

The spirit turned and looked at Carolyn, noting she looked more exhausted at that moment than the night they fought and she had packed up and left Gull Cottage.

"May I offer you a seat, my dear?" He gestured toward the couch near the fireplace.

Well, it DOES look cozy… Carolyn thought. Relieved, she sank into it.

"Mrs. Muir, I'd like to thank you for bringing the children by… for letting me know Jonathan is all right. It… you could have waited…"

Carolyn shook her head. "The children insisted you would be worried, and well, I agreed."

"Madam, I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about everything that happened today."

"No hard feelings, Captain. I told you, children are children and parents… that is, adults… we can't be everywhere at the same time." She looked around the cozy room. "That has been quite obvious to me, of late. You house looks… nice. I see you haven't let it go back to the state we found it in."

The seaman shrugged. "I never had any reason before now. And your children seem to like helping me…" He trailed off, remembering that was how the accident happened.

"Captain…" Carolyn interrupted. "I told you. I don't think it was your fault. Things happen. And remember, I wasn't here either. I didn't even know they had been coming here. So, if it is your fault, it's my fault, too."

"It's nobody's fault," Jonathan interjected. "Except mine, maybe. I was the one who climbed up on the ladder."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. "Everyone, stop it! I'm not blaming anyone!" She gazed up at the seaman, who was still pacing, agitated, around the room. "Captain Gregg, I want to thank you for your help today. And I promise you. My children won't bother you further."

"But, MOM!" Candy protested.

The spirit cut her off. "They have never bothered me, Madam. In fact, I quite enjoy having them around. I was rather hoping, now that you know about their visits, you might let them continue to come here from time to time?"

"Yes, please?" The children begged, turning their eager faces, rosy with the firelight, toward their mother's.

"I… I suppose," Carolyn agreed, hesitantly. "If you are sure they are no bother to you, Captain."

"They aren't, and I wouldn't have asked, if they were," the seaman huffed. "Besides, I have come to the conclusion that no children under your care could ever be a "bother" to anyone."

"Well, maybe you can, then…" She looked at her children. "But no more ladders."

"Perhaps…" He gazed at the beautiful woman before him. "Perhaps you might visit also?"

"I… I don't know…" she answered, slowly.

"Of course, I understand, you are quite busy," the ghost sighed. "Very busy… but the children…" He drew a deep 'breath.' "Madam, I… I don't suppose you'd consider moving back in?" Suddenly his words came tumbling out. "Candy and Jonathan and I have become quite fond of each other, the rent would be the same, and you would have more room here, and…" He paused. "But I suppose you…"

"You… you really want us to come back?" Carolyn asked, slowly, and her voice almost cracked. "But what about…"

"Mom, PLEASE!" her offspring said together. "Please, may we?"

"My dear, Gull Cottage hasn't been the same… without you," the spirit said gruffly. "I won't demand it, of you, as I know you don't like being told what to do, but… but if you would like to, the offer is open. My house is really much better built than that atrocity you are living in now."

"I'll say..." Candy interjected. "Nothing there works."

"This place is cool, Mom…" Jonathan cut in. "And so's the Captain… He's been teaching us all sorts of stuff, and…"

"I've heard..." Carolyn said dryly. "Calling Danny Shoemaker a 'blasted sea-slug'?"

"Well, he is... and sea-slug sounds better than creep, and you said his mom is…"

"Jonathan, your language is getting entirely too salty for the classroom!"

"Nonsense, Madam. He..."

"Captain!" the beautiful woman warned.

"I will do my best to see that my... uhm, way of speaking does not overly influence the lad, Mrs. Muir..." the seaman conceded. "Now..." he continued, sensing that they needed to get out of that line of conversation, "I admit, the house is a bit run down, but it could be fixed, and it is ideal for the children — you said so yourself. As for how I feel about you — you have spunk. You've shown that today… That counts for you. You love my house. That counts for you, too."

"And you obviously love my children, Captain Gregg," she returned. "That counts for you. And twentieth-century women are… spunky. As for Gull Cottage, I know it's a lovely house. I thought so from the first. I... I fell in love with it the first time I saw it. Can you… understand the way I feel… about you...? The house that is... I mean..."

Daniel Gregg looked at the beautiful woman before him closely. Were there tears in her eyes?

"I can," he nodded. "I felt that way about my first ship."

"It's a marvelous house," Jonathan said, his eyes shining.

"With a marvelous ghost!" Candy added.

"I did design and build it myself," the ghost said, only a bit proudly.

"I know that," Carolyn said, more composed.

"You do?" He looked surprised, and wondered what else Carolyn knew, but recovered quickly. "And I am on watch from my bridge more often than not… when I'm not working on my sea charts, or logs, that is. I do think we could stay out of each other's way. And you would be free to concentrate on your own writing, not that blasted pup, Mark Finley's rag, or spend time on home repairs and the like. The children have showed me some of your pieces. I found them fascinating... you need to brush up on your nautical terms, I understand. However, I would..."

"Captain...?" Carolyn stopped him.

"Yes, Mrs. Muir?"

"Thank you. I appreciate the offer. When I am ready for your help, I will ask for it... and appreciate it."

"Naturally, Madam. I…"

"But," she continued. "You said 'bridge.' Where's that? You have a ship near here also?"

"This house is the only ship I have now, dear lady. The bridge is the walk." He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling.

"The widow's-walk, Mom," Jonathan said eagerly. "You know, the one you told us about, where the wives of seaman used to wait and watch for their husbands to return from the sea."

"And you were right, too," Candy added. "You can see EVERYTHING from up there."

"Yes… on the roof," the seaman added. "Right above our room."

Carolyn blushed. "I don't know... maybe, I…"

"C'mon, Jonathan," said Candy, sensing a deal was forthcoming. "Let's go look at our room again." The two children started for the stairs.

"Jonathan…" Carolyn called. "Your head. Be careful."

"I will!" the boy called back. "It's hardly stinging at all!"

"Children recover quickly, as well, I suppose?" the seaman asked, looking after them

Carolyn turned back to him. "Yes… Hmm... Our room, Captain?"

"Well…" he gave her a slightly wolfish grin. "Well, it was my room once. And there's no need to blush, Madam. I'm only a spirit, remember?"

"I'm not blushing…" She turned a shade redder. "But, Captain, I see you... the children see you."

"Only if I wish it, my dear. I'm only an illusion. Now you see me, now you..."

Suddenly the spirit was gone.

Carolyn looked around the room, fighting an overwhelming feeling of panic. "You come back here!"

"As you wish..." he said, reappearing behind her. She whirled around.

"Stop that, Captain!" She smiled, then sighed. "But... well... moving again. I feel silly, but… I really don't like living where we are now, and I would rather not be writing for Mister Finley anymore, and..."

"Then, you should move back here," the spirit said calmly.

Carolyn nodded. "Well, if you agree that you won't boss me around. I hate that. Or interfere in our lives… and that if things don't work out, I am still completely free to go... no hard feelings?"

"If you want to go, I won't be able to stop you," the ghost answered kindly. "I didn't stop you last time, did I?"

No, but I never forgot you, either.

"No, but…"

"And Christmas," he coaxed. "If you start packing right away, you could be all settled in, in a couple of weeks or so… Just in time to get ready. You should see Gull Cottage all decked up for Christmas."

There was a beat, and the specter held his breath.

The blonde nodded.

"Yes."

The relief on the ghost's face was evident, but he recovered quickly.

"Well then. We'll just call this an experiment."

"A trial period?" Carolyn asked, turning her face up to his.

"Yes. For both of us."

A moment of silence and understanding passed between the woman and the spirit, then, finally, Carolyn tore her eyes away from his. "Uhm… Well. All right, then." She started looking around the cozy room. "We still have a lot of work to do here."

"I suppose you'll want that painter back," the Captain stated.

Carolyn shrugged. "Well, I could do it myself, but it would be a help. Unless…" she added in a teasing tone, "…Unless you'd like to give it another go with the children. I'm sure they'd LOVE to!"

Daniel Gregg shuddered in spite of himself.

"Uhm, no. I don't wish to repeat today. Call the painter. I won't take a chance on seeing the children hurt again. I promise not to torment him… unless… unless he starts calling me names. Perhaps then I will..."

"Captain..." Carolyn said in a warning tone. "You…"

"After all, Madam," he smiled, tugged at the lapels of his jacket and rocked back and forth on his heels. "After all, I'm only human… at least I was!" He smiled. "Until tomorrow, Madam!"

He started to disappear, but she called him back.

"Captain! Wait! Tomorrow?"

"Naturally! I'll be over early to supervise the moving..."

"Captain! I told you I am quite capable..." Carolyn started, but he cut her off.

"Blast… I mean HELP supervise, naturally!"

"Really, Captain…" She looked around. "Candy! Jonathan! Kids! Let's get moving!"

The children were there in a moment.

"So we really are moving back in, Mom?" Jonathan inquired. "I hope so. Candy and I have already decided where our stuff is going to go, and the Captain has been keeping some stuff here for us, and…"

"Jonathan?" Carolyn interrupted.

"Yes, Mom?"

"I said we were, remember? You don't have to 'sell' me anymore. The Captain and I are going to try it again. See how it goes."

"I think it will "go" splendidly," the spirit nodded. "Just give it a chance, my dear."

"Captain…" A thought struck her. "Captain, what about Claymore?"

"What about that bilge blister?"

"I mean, will he let us move back in here?"

"He will or I will haunt him until he can't see straight. You have nothing to worry about on that account."

"I wish I could see you haunt someone, Captain," Jonathan piped up.

"Do you really think Claymore Gregg will let us move back in, Mom?" Candy asked as the little family started making its way to the door.

"I told you that sea-worm is not a Gregg — and yes, HE WILL." The Captain said firmly.

As they reached the car, where the seaman spirited the children's bikes into the tailgate, Candy asked another question.

"Captain, Are you going to show yourself to Martha?"

"Eventually," he nodded. "When she's ready."

"I hope that's soon," Jonathan piped up. "I think she'll love you as much as we do!"

The soon-to-be Lady of Gull Cottage found herself blushing again.

"I don't know how I am going to explain to Martha us moving again," she sighed. "I mean, are you going to decompose every time she comes into the room?"

"Blast it, Madam! It's dematerialize, and, as indelicate as it might be to say, I am sure my bones already have by this time. And if I don't WISH Martha to see me, she won't!"

"I just don't know what I am going to tell her," Carolyn shook her head.

Jonathan grinned. "Just tell Martha, 'Man the torpedoes, full speed ahead'!"

XXX

For the second time that autumn, the Muirs found themselves moving into Gull Cottage. Martha was relieved enough about getting the Albatross off her neck to not ask too many questions. She seemed to simply think her employer had decided their current home had entirely too many problems, and the housekeeper could not agree more. Claymore was, as promised, perfectly delighted to lease them Gull Cottage once again. By the time the snow started falling, the entire 'crew' felt at home, and, more importantly, at peace.

With the third snow of the season, a fair sized one, the week before Christmas, Carolyn, Candy, Jonathan and Martha learned something else about their lovely house. Power outages were inevitable. Well, it did make for early bedtimes. The children were asleep, Martha retired, the Captain busy with his sea charts in the alcove, being USED to working by candlelight, and Carolyn upstairs with a book, a candle and a cozy fire, when two figures trudged their way up to the stone gate, wading through the snow, up to the front porch of Gull Cottage.

"Oh, Harvey," the woman moaned. "This is miserable! It's freezing! And the car… stuck in a drift! Why didn't we get chains put on?"

"Oh, come on, Gladys," Harvey returned, "this is gonna be fun! I'm sure things aren't really that bad! Think of the stories we will have to tell our grandchildren! Stuck in a snowstorm on our way to get married! Besides, what do you expect from Maine, this time of year?"

"What I SUSPECT is, we shouldn't have done this. We should have gone to Bermuda to get married, like my mother said."

"Your mother has an over inflated idea of what a wedding should entail," the man said, playing his flashlight beam over the porch. "…And my wallet. We agreed. Smaller wedding and honeymoon, and we'll have more money for a down payment on a house. Now everything is going to be all right. I'm sure these people will help us." He tapped on the door, lightly, ignoring the doorbell. If there WAS someone home, and if they had small children, waking them up would not get them into anyone's good graces.

"Harvey… maybe nobody lives here." Gladys shivered. "This house is off in the middle of nowhere…"

"There's somebody here. There HAS to be. Now don't worry," he soothed her.

"Harvey, I tell you this place is creepy… and we're… we're stuck here!"

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? You know, like one of those old horror movies where the young couple comes up to the old deserted house… on a dark, cold night… ooohhhh…" he snuck an arm over the woman's shoulder and started nibbling on her neck. "Now just about this time, a ghost…"

"Oh, Harvey, don't!" She pushed him away.

"Okay, honey, sorry!" Turning around, he pointed the flashlight down toward the walk. "Snow is getting a little lighter, but I really don't want us in the car all night! Especially with no way to keep warm." He drew his arm around her. "Well, except for cuddling, that is. Makes me almost wish this old place was a LITTLE haunted! Wouldn't it be funny if the door just opened all by itself and there was nobody there?"

"Oh, Harvey, please!" the woman rolled her eyes. "You…" She was interrupted by a creaking sound and both man and woman turned, and watched the front door swing open — very slowly.

Gladys visibly paled, and Harvey's mouth dropped open. "Ohhhhhh!" she whispered. "Harvey… what?"

For a moment the honeymooners stared at each other. Should they, or shouldn't they? But in the end, desire to get in from the cold won out over fear of the unknown. Cautiously, the two made their way inside.

"Don't worry, sweetie," said Harvey "…It's just the wind that opened that door... you know, the snow and all." Suddenly, the door swung shut with a bang. "And it was the wind that closed it, too!" he added, suddenly not quite so sure of himself. Cautiously the two made their way past the foyer and into the living room.

"I don't like this, really, I don't, Harvey," Gladys whispered, taking his arm again.

"Come on, hon, it's just a house." Hesitantly, he called out. "Hello? Hello? Anybody home?" Once again, he started dancing the beam of the flashlight around the room.

"Shh… Nobody's here," Gladys whispered.

"If nobody's here, I shouldn't have to shush," Harvey grinned. "But, Gladys, there's got to be somebody here. Look! It's all furnished…" He shone the flashlight into the furthest corners. "…And everything's clean… There's nothing spooky here. It's just a nice, normal house. And from the looks of the place, an old one, too." Suddenly, the flashlight beam hit the portrait of Daniel Gregg, catching it full in the face.

Gladys gasped again. "Oh, Harvey, let's get out of here… I do NOT like that painting! Look at the way it stares at us!"

"Gladys, being stranded in a storm with a stuck car, and no houses in sight except this one… this is no time to be an art critic!" He paused. "It's just a nice, normal painting! There's nothing to be frightened about!"

Gladys flinched again and turned a way from the steely blue eyes in the portrait and Harvey watched as another terrified look crept over her face. "Ohhhhh… Harveeeey!" she squawked, and as he turned, the beam hit Carolyn Muir, who was standing at the top of the stairs, holding a candle, full in the face.

"Hey!" Carolyn said. "Who's there?"

"Oh… Uhm... it's us…" said Harvey, shifting the beam so Carolyn could remove the hand that was shading her eyes from the glare.

The beautiful blonde looked puzzled. "Us? Who ARE you?"

"Uhm…" the uncertain man said again, moving toward the stairs and dragging Gladys behind him. "This is Harvey Dillman, and I'm Gladys… No… It's the other way around. I'm Gladys and this is Harv…"

Deciding that her fiancé was in need of a rescue, Gladys cut in.

"I'm Gladys, and this is Harvey. How do you do?"

"Uh, yes," Harvey interrupted, finding his voice. "You see, our uh, car… well, you see the fact is, we were driving along the road, and the car skidded, and now it's in a ditch about maybe three blocks from here, and we got here, you see, and we did knock, but then it just opened all by itself…"

"Ah, yes," Carolyn nodded. "The latch is broken." She winced slightly. While it was true that they had been having trouble with the lock, she also knew a certain ghost of a sea captain of her acquaintance, had still not entirely rid himself of his habit of teasing unwary visitors. Could he have done it? Where was he anyway? Normally he was right there when "brigands" as he called them, came anywhere near his "ship."

"Oh, well, I'm sure glad to hear that," Harvey prattled on. "We shouldn't have walked in on you like this, I, I hope we didn't scare you." He laughed, nervously.

Carolyn descended another step. "Well, to be honest you did, a little." Inwardly, she smiled. Hard to be scared with a REAL ghost in the house.

"I'm... I'm really sorry about this," Harvey continued. "I wonder, could we use your telephone to call a mechanic? Get somebody out here to fix our car? I mean, get it out of the ditch?"

Carolyn shook her head. "You'll never get anyone out here this time of night. Especially not in the snow. And our only garage closed at six."

"Oh, well… maybe there's a hotel near by…" he said wistfully.

Carolyn shook her head again. "I'm afraid not, Mister … Dillman, right? There's nothing nearby."

"Oh, gee…" He looked grossly disappointed.

"What are we going to do, Harvey?" Gladys seemed almost in tears.

The man looked baffled. "I don't know, I just don't know… maybe someone will come out…"

Carolyn descended another step. "I'm afraid you don't have much choice. You'll just have to stay here tonight. By morning the snow should stop and then we can get someone out to tow your car."

"Well, great," Harvey said, breathing a very obvious sigh of relief. "Thank you. Thank you VERY much!"

"Yes, you're really very nice!" Gladys chimed in. "You're just a nice, normal person!"

"I beg your pardon?" Carolyn asked, uncertainly, wishing again she knew where the Captain was.

"Oh, Gladys was a little frightened," Harvey said nervously. "Your place did look a bit unusual in the dark… spooky… you know… ha-ha…" His voice trailed off.

"This is just a nice, ordinary house and we're just ordinary people."

"But," the younger woman insisted. "Why are you carrying that candle? Don't you believe in electric lights?"

I do, but Captain Gregg doesn't, Carolyn grinned to herself. She gave a little laugh. "Oh, this…" She held the candle up a little higher. "We had a power failure about an hour ago. The weather, you know. It blew the transformer out this way."

"Ohh! Oh, well." A look of relief crossed the younger woman's face. "That's what it was! Just a nice, normal power failure… " She broke off, another startled look crossing her face as Martha appeared out of the blackness and stood next to Carolyn, who was now at the foot of the stairs.

"What's going on?" the housekeeper asked, grumpily, adjusting her hair net. "I heard voices."

"It's all right Martha," Carolyn smiled. "We have visitors. This young couple…"

"Hi, there," they waved.

"…Had car trouble," Carolyn continued. ""We're going to put them up for the night. She turned back to Gladys and Harvey. "This is Martha, my housekeeper."

"How do you do?" Martha murmured, and yawned.

"How do you do?" the couple responded. "Ever so nice of you to take us in like this!"

"Now I have a nice spare bedroom…" Carolyn continued, taking up her candle and starting up the stairs again "…and I think you will both be very comfortable in it. Give me a few minutes and I'll have it ready." She turned at the top of the stairs. "Why don't you two go get your bags? Martha and I should be finished about the time you get back." So saying, Carolyn turned back toward the second floor landing, still holding the candle and took another step up. In doing so, her toe caught on the long hem of her dressing gown and she felt herself tipping backward and falling… tumbling down… down… down. A sharp pain, and there was nothing but blackness…

Until...

"Carolyn? Carolyn, can you hear me?" A familiar, velvety, male voice pierced the fog surrounding her brain and a tender hand brushed against her forehead. Dull pain, and then voices again...

"Mom…" The voice of a young woman joined the other voice, still whispering words of comfort. "Mom! Captain Dad… Lynne, do something!"

"Carolyn…" came another familiar voice, female, this time. "Carolyn, try to open your eyes."

"Hurts…" she mumbled, and she felt someone rubbing her wrists.

"Carolyn, darling… please, keep talking… say something," the same dear voice rumbled, and she became aware of a very, VERY familiar touch at her cheek, and then a voice near her ear. "Carolyn… Love, darling… please tell me you're all right."

"Captain… Gregg?" she whispered, her eyes opening only slightly. "What? Who?"

"Captain?" the voice came again, puzzled. "It's been Daniel for a decade now. More even."

"You fell, Carrie darlin…" another male voice interrupted. "Do you remember?"

"Sean's right." Another soft brogue, female, echoed the other voice. "You went upstairs to get your new manuscript… a few minutes later, we heard you tumble."

"My manuscript…" she echoed, opening her eyes a centimeter further. "Did I drop it?"

"Mom… are you okay?" Candy said again. "Lynne, DO something."

"Carolyn, come on, open your eyes," a soft, but firm voice commanded, then added. "She'll be fine — she was only out for a minute, maybe less."

"But… did I drop my story?" Carolyn asked again. "Mister Finley will…"

"Never MIND the story, blast it! Mister Finley? That… Blatherskite! Never mind that shiftless salamander!"

Shiftless salamander?

Then, Carolyn knew where she was, and more importantly, with whom. Slowly, she opened her eyes fully and saw the relieved faces of her friends, family, and Daniel Gregg. She was home. For real.

"Daniel…" Carolyn looked up into the azure depths of her husband's eyes from where her head was cradled in his lap. "Darling, you feel… FEEL wonderful, but this floor is not…"

"Blast. Of course it's not. Lynne... Can Carolyn be moved?" At the doctor's nod, Daniel Gregg picked her up and carried her into the living room, where she was deposited gently on the sofa.

"My love…" Daniel sat down next to her, still holding her hand. "Are you sure you are all right?"

"I didn't see what happened," Ed drawled. "But I just checked, didn't see any loose carpet up there, or anything…"

"I think I was just clumsy…" Carolyn started.

"Nonsense," Daniel blustered. "You are the most graceful woman I know."

"Anything I can do to help, Mom?" Thom asked, interrupting. "I know, I'll get her some water…" he dashed out of the room.

"Better add an aspirin or two to that," Dash said. "Carolyn's going to have a beastly headache, if she doesn't already."

"Wrong, Charlie." Lynne shook her head. "No drugs until I say so."

"Ice-pack then," Dash said, and disappeared, reappearing two seconds later. "Here." He slapped it into Lynne's hand.

"Thanks."

"What about some Ben-Gay?" inquired Martha. "I can find some. Even if her head is all right, by tomorrow her muscles will be hurting."

"Not a bad idea," Lynne winced, remembering her fall off Adam and Jess's kitchen counter. "A little later, though. Now cool it, all of you," the doctor said, making herself heard above the other concerned inquiries. "Let me do my doctor thing, here. You have to let me talk to Carolyn if I'm going to examine her."

"Better listen to the doctor, family," said Adam, looking relieved, to say the least, at what was transpiring. "Lynne knows what she's doing."

When the small crowd moved aside, the woman stepped over to the sofa, sitting down on the couch on Carolyn's other side. Holding up her hand, she asked, "How many fingers?"

"Two," Carolyn said, answering correctly.

Lynne nodded, then had Carolyn track her finger with her eyes. "A-plus," she announced a few moments later. "Carolyn, what day is it?"

"December eighteenth…" Carolyn said, promptly. "Wait… no…" she paused. "That's not right. It's June. June fourth, nineteen-eighty two."

"And what is your name?" Lynne smiled.

"Carolyn Gregg… or Miles," she said softly, glancing at Daniel, who was sitting on the couch on her other side, holding on to her hand for dear life. She squeezed his hand.

"And your children are…?"

Carolyn smiled again and looked at her beautiful, grown-up daughter. "Candy, Jonathan, and Jenny."

Lynne examined Carolyn's eyes closely, once more. "She's fine," she said, to the room in general. "Pupils evenly dilated, but not overly. But I'd like to keep you awake for a while, just to be cautious, Carolyn. Just for an hour or so."

"Really? Why?" Jess asked.

"Just better to keep her lucid and thinking for a bit, Sis," Lynne answered. "Standard operating procedures with head stuff."

Daniel nodded. "Whatever you say, Doctor."

"I suppose we should all get going," Molly said, still looking worried. "You need quiet, and…"

"Oh no," Carolyn smiled. "I don't want my clumsiness to break up our weekly fun. Besides, If I have to stay lucid, I need lots of people to talk to." She squeezed Daniel's hand again.

Everyone drew a sigh of relief, and drew up a chair or found some place to sit in the room, Tris being asked only once not to float on the ceiling.

"Carrie?" Sean asked. "Why did you say December?"

"Beg pardon?"

"When Lynne asked you the date, you said December eighteenth, at first. Why?"

"I was wonderin' that myself," said Molly.

"I… It WAS December, where I was…" Carolyn began. "For a few moments… sort of. I… Lynne, I was only out for a minute?"

"Less, I'd say," Martha said. "The men were in the dining room, playing cards. We were in here, chatting. You said you wanted to show us your latest article for the Boston Globe. You went upstairs to get it, then a few minutes later, we heard you fall. You must have slipped on your way back downstairs." She paused. "But to answer your earlier question when you were coming out of it, Your article is fine. No messed up pages."

"Odd…" Carolyn rubbed the back of her neck, wincing slightly and another ice pack appeared in her husband's hand from out of nowhere and placed gently on her head. "I had this dream… in the DREAM it was December eighteenth… but my dream didn't START in December… It started the day we moved into Gull Cottage… and then back OUT again! It seemed so… real."

"Out! What?" Everyone in the room chorused.

"Why don't you tell us about it?" Lynne urged her. "I'd like to keep you talking for a while, Carolyn. You might as well tell us your dream."

"Please," Thom added, handing her the glass of water. "I can't vouch for everyone, but I'd like to hear."

"What I told you," Carolyn said again. "My dream started with Claymore coming to Gull Cottage and telling Daniel he had rented the place to me. Daniel didn't want us to move in… then… then I dreamed our first day here, the cleaning, the thunderstorm Daniel created that first night, how we met, only…"

"Only WHAT?" Candy burst out.

"Hold on, honey, I'm getting there," Carolyn smiled at her daughter. Slowly, she began her tale.

XXX

"…And then I woke up and I was here," Carolyn finished. "It was just a dream. But I'm here and all you are here, and I feel a little like Dorothy waking up at the end of The Wizard of Oz, but I don't care. I don't ever want to go through two months like that again! No Daniel, Gregg, no Gull Cottage…" She shuddered.

Her 'family' looked at her, dumfounded.

"Weird," said Dash. "To re-live such an early part of your life here!"

"Definitely strange," Lynne nodded. "I've studied dream analysis somewhat, and I've heard of people dreaming they were married to someone else, or that they had a fight they didn't have, or re-lived a bad day at work, but never one where you re-lived your own life and ended up back where you started."

"Well, I think it's romantic as anything," said Jess, who had held Adam's hand all the way through Carolyn's tale. "Any way you play it, you two were meant to be together."

"Highly detailed," said Tris. "I'll have to tell Sig about this. He's going to be sorry he stayed with the horses tonight."

"I like it," said, Candy, decidedly. "I got to meet Captain Dad a lot sooner! I could have lived with that."

"It's a good thing I wasn't your lawyer way back then," Adam commented. "Claymore was still Claymore, I see. I could have torn that rental agreement to shreds."

"Blackie would be fascinated," Thom said. "He always says things happen for a reason, and will happen as they should, despite everything. Like Aunt Jess said. I think your dream proves that. In it, you left, proving your independence in a different way than just leaving Philadelphia, yet you ended up making your own decision to come back here as you were destined to."

"And from what you said, we had some of the feelings and said the same things we did the first time around," Ed added. "Concerning me, anyway! Captain Gregg scared me away durin' the paintin', and he did it again in your dream!"

"There were some different things though," Carolyn maintained. "I just can't figure out why I would have such a hallucination to begin with. Like working for Mark Finley for any length of time at all. Or not doing Claymore's play. Or how far Gull Cottage was from Schooner Bay."

"That's right," Tris nodded. "I don't remember that, because of course I can pop, but in your dream, Gull Cottage was only a mile and a half away from town. It's more like two miles away from town, really."

"Can't say as I blame you for opting out of that play, even in a dream!" Martha shuddered.

"And there was no Albatross Manor," Carolyn sighed gratefully, and leaned against her husband. "Thank goodness! That place made our first years at Gull Cottage, with its maintenance problems look like nothing!"

"Albatross… Albatross Manor," Daniel muttered, distracted. "Wait a minute…"

"Yes, Daniel," Carolyn smiled. "A figment of my imagination… for which I am DEEPLY thankful!"

"No…" she seaman said, shaking his head. "It wasn't."

"What? Don't tell me there was…"

"Albatross Manor… I remember it, now," said Daniel. "Much smaller than Gull Cottage. A ramshackle old place, about a mile from here, up the road."

"You mean…?" Carolyn suddenly looked quite pale.

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "And you're right. The house DID belong to Claymore. It collapsed one night. The roof caved in during a heavy snow. Thank goodness the last family that lived there moved out only a few weeks before."

"Ah," said Sean. "Then that's explained at least. "Carrie heard about it, and…"

"No…" Carolyn shook her head and leaned against her husband's shoulder. "I never heard of that house before. Never before tonight."

"You wouldn't have…" Daniel said, even more quietly. "I've NEVER mentioned it to you. And that house was destroyed two winters before you moved to Schooner Bay!"

XXX

Everyone was gone, leaving with reminders that if needed they were but a phone call, or a thought away, as the case might be. Lynne had consented to letting Carolyn have a couple of aspirin, and now, she was feeling the effects slightly. Carolyn curled up in bed, but her husband did not immediately join her. Instead, he paced, watching her as he did so.

"Darling, are you sure you are all right?"

"I'd be a lot more all right if you would come to bed," she smiled. "Your pacing back and forth is wearing me out." And stop asking me if I'm all right! she added silently.

"Very well." Disrobing manually, Daniel pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and joined her in the bed, leaving the bedside lamp on.

"Daniel?"

"Yes?"

"I could sleep now."

"Good," he answered, reaching for the book he had left on the table.

"I could sleep a little better if you turn off that light."

"Sorry, darling. I… I just thought I'd read for a bit first, if that's all right with you."

"Oh…" She snuggled next to him, laying her head on his chest and closed her eyes. "Good story?"

"So-so."

"Oh."

Ten minutes went by.

Carolyn sighed. It was obvious that her husband was not that fascinated with the book. He hadn't turned the page once.

"Daniel?" she asked again, lifting her head from his chest.

"Yes?" He paused. "Put your head back down there."

Complying with his request, she asked; "Can we please call it a night and turn off the blasted lights?"

"As you wish, darling." He reached over carefully and did so, trying not to disturb her.

"That's more like it."

"I think so, too," he smiled, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head, making sure to avoid the injured area.

The moonlight shone in the open window and the spirit was struck by an odd feeling of deja vu. Tonight is so much like our first night together… like the first night Carolyn stayed in this house.

He kissed the top of her head again gently and she lifted her head once more.

"Love, what is it?"

"Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing at all. Go back to sleep."

She rolled over onto her own pillow. "Now, that's not true, Daniel, and I wasn't asleep yet."

He reached for her gently and pulled her back so that once more, her head lay on his massive chest. "I just want to know you are all right."

"Darling, you must have asked me that at least ten times." She snuggled closer.

"I know I have. Now you can make it eleven... are you SURE you are all right?"

"Yes…" She giggled slightly. "But I will be more all right when you stop asking me that... at least tonight."

"I'm sorry, my dearest love. I'm just so blasted worried about you. That fall…"

She ran a slender finger down his bare chest, then wrapped her arm around his waist again. "It was just a tumble. Lynne said I would be fine. Just to take it easy for a day or so."

"I intend to make sure you do," he whispered. Placing a hand on her chin, he moved her head gently so her eyes were looking into his.

"Daniel, I..." she started.

"I don't want anything to happen to you — ever," he choked out. "When you fell… it was the longest minute of my life, or afterlife, and that includes the time I fought that crocodile off the coast of Florida in 1860, I..."

"Darling, really, I under..."

"No, you don't understand," he continued. "Not completely, I mean." He laced his fingers with hers.

"I think I do..."

"No, you don't, now hush, love," he went on. "Carolyn, I've never told you this before, but tonight — what happened… and now, looking at the moonlight through the window… I'm reminded of…"

"…Of?"

"The first night you were here. I think I… well even with our ups and downs, and well, bickering the first year or so we knew each other, I..."

"Yes?"

"Carolyn, I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you. With your fire, your spirit, your determination, and your beauty, and now, I think I would cease to exist without you. I've loved you ever since that first night you came and stayed and wormed your way into my house and my... soul. I told you so that first night, too."

"Really?" She stroked his cheek. "I don't remember that! As I recall, our first night here you mentioned something about me keeping my sails trimmed and being at Gull Cottage on trial. You know, you never did tell me that the trial period was over. When, that night, did you tell me you loved me?"

"Well, not in those words, exactly... just that... that..."

"Tell me, Daniel. Now you've got me curious and I won't be able to rest for wondering."

"You were asleep at the time. I couldn't tell you when you were awake… not so soon. I didn't want you to have that advantage over me, but now... I want you to know…"

"Know what?"

"I told you while you were sleeping that night that you were the only woman I ever wished could have been on board my ship with me. And that if you had lived in my time, I would have carried you away to sea with me the first moment I saw you. I said that I wished I could have shown you what you missed by not been born when I was alive and could be a real husband to you."

"Daniel, love, you are…" She reached up and caressed his face, and kissed him… the kiss building into more and more until it made his head spin, as well as hers.

"I also wanted to tell you…" he continued when they broke apart, "…that the waiting and hunting I did for a hundred years was worth every moment of it, because I DID find you."

"Oh, Daniel…"

"You're my soul mate, me Darlin'…" he whispered, traces of his Gaelic heritage coming out in his voice, as it always did when he was deeply affected. "…And I thank God above that even though you were not born in my time, or I in yours, that we can be together at last."

Carolyn sighed happily and kissed her husband once more. A kiss of love and passion and complete understanding.

It was wonderful to be home.

END

Stories in the From This Day On Universe

The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

Christmas Presence

Getting To Know You

From This Day On

Serendipity

One Halloween

Resolutions

In Good Spirits

The Best Laid Plans

Past Sins

To Everything there is a Season

Halloween with Friends

When the Stars Come Out

I Won't Say Goodbye

When Legends Meet (in the middle of Goodbye)

Changes

Wedding Conspiracy

Martha's Wish

Knowing the Truth that Haunts Me

Brotherly Love

Heart's Memories

The Duel

Space Between

Claymore to the Rescue

Ghost Riders (aka: Equine Element)

Relativity

Hello, Goodbye, Hello

Jane Shoemaker Strikes Again

Gifts from the Heart

Return of the Ghost Hunter

A Wedding In The Family

The Healing

Another Life

Because of FF Net lyrics rules, not all these stories are currently up, but we can steer you to them and the un-altered versions. Just drop a note via the review page.