Page 42 of A Ghost of a Chance

He whispered, “I felt your hand.”

She leaned in. “What did it feel like?”

“A hand.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh. “I could feel your skin. It was cool and very smooth, but it felt solid.”

He reached for her cheek, but his hand passed through her. His smile faded. “I can’t touch you.” He held up a hand. “Touch me again.”

She pressed her hand to his and gave it a little push.

His smile returned. “I felt that.”

He curled his hand around her fingers, and she concentrated on pushing back. Palm to palm, their fingers curled forward and intertwined. She leaned in and pressed her cheek to his, focusing on moving his face a fraction of an inch. It worked!

His breath shivered and he whispered, “Osanne.” He lifted his arm to place it around her.

Again, she focused on pushing back against his touch. His arm rested about her shoulders. He brought the other up to encircle her.

“Do you feel me?” he whispered.

“I feel pressure.” A hysterical giggle worked its way out of her. “I feel, Rafe. I feel.”

He stared in speechless wonder. They sat unmoving, cheek-to-cheek, arms wrapped around each other. In Rafe’s arms, Osanne almost felt alive.

If only they could make it last beyond the next sunrise.

Chapter Twelve

Rafe held Osanne and tried to ignore the strangeness of this new sensation. Though solid for the moment, no warmth or softness seeped from her into him—a stark reminder that she did not exist in the world of the living. Somehow, though, this would have to be enough.

As sunrise took her from him yet again, he called out a brave farewell. Inside, he went cold all over. Every year they found each other for one night. Every dawn, he lost her.

Still, she meant more to him than he had believed possible. And she needed his help.

After some creative conspiring with his new friends, Jake Wilson and Peter Brown, Rafe made the acquaintance of the family living in Ravenswood Manor. They put him in touch with the Jewell family land steward. After exchanging letters, the steward agreed to meet with Rafe. During the meeting, he had proven informative regarding her family. Osanne’s parents were deceased, but her brother Henry lived with his wife in the Lake District. Rafe also learned that Henry and his wife had three daughters and a son—all grown.

Rafe could hardly wait to share that information with Osanne. How frustrating that he must wait almost an entire year to tell her of his discoveries.

First, he must make his pilgrimage to visit his family for Christmas. Before leaving, Rafe paid a call upon the Browns. There, Rafe found the vicar and his wife comforting a sobbing Fanny, Mrs. Grainger’s great-granddaughter.

Peter left his wife to continue consoling their visitor and greeted Rafe. “Good to see you, my friend.”

Rafe hesitated in the doorway. “Forgive me for intruding.”

“Not at all. Fanny is understandably overset; her great-grandmother died this morning.”

“Mrs. Grainger died?”

Peter nodded. “Fanny is grieved, of course, and fearful of what is to become of her. She doesn’t wish to return home to be a burden to her parents but has no other place to go. Mrs. Brown and I considered hiring her to work for us, but we can only afford one maid-of-all-work, and cannot displace our current one, who also has nowhere else to go.”

“Who inherits the house?” Rafe asked.

“An uncle, who plans to let it out once he has done some improvements.”

Without thinking, Rafe blurted, “I’ll hire her. I have a girl come twice a week to clean, but I’d rather have someone to stay there and take care of the cottage in my absence. I shall return next spring. When I do, she can remain as my maid-of-all-work.”

Peter smiled at Rafe as if he had bestowed a wondrous gift. The vicar called Fanny and told her of Rafe’s proposal. The grateful girl nearly fell at his feet. After arranging for her generous wages and supplies to be paid, Rafe began his journey to his parents’ home.

As he rode, he whistled a merry tune. Since meeting Osanne, he had found friendship, a home, and a real sense of purpose. Meaning. Joy. Love.