Chapter Eight

"Francine I..."

"Don't talk to me," Francine snapped as they walked down the quiet street. "We have a very long walk and I am very very angry at you and I would rather not be walking down the streets screaming at someone that everyone else can't see."

"Why are you angry at me?" Wyatt demanded. "All I did was...."

"All you did was follow me around all night, criticize my choice in boyfriends and then throw it in my face that you and Janice have been right and I have been wrong and that Gregory is a loser! To top it off he's been cheating on me. No, that's not right he's been cheating with me." She paled. "Oh my God, I'm the other woman."

"I didn't rub anything in your face, Franny. I know that wasn't the best way to let you know he wasn't being faithful but I didn't want you going out with him and having him take advantage of you anymore."

"And the kitchen? What happened in the kitchen?"

"I was just having a bit of fun," he replied with a shrug. "I didn't hurt him," he added as if that fact should clear him of any fault.

"I feel like such a fool," Francine admitted with a sigh. "I guess I knew that something wasn't right long before today."

"Then why did you stay?"

"It was comfortable. I still had my freedom and independence but had a boyfriend at the same time. And like I said, he wasn't always that distant and rude to me. In the beginning he was perfectly charming."

"Never trust a man who is perfectly charming."

"Why?" Francine asked with a raise of her brow.

Wyatt shrugged, "Because a regular man is going to fumble over words now and then, say things he shouldn't and get a little nervous around you as he hopes he says the right things. If a man doesn't do any of those things then you probably aren't the first woman he's wooed."

"You say some of the funniest things," Francine said with a smile. How did this man manage to do this to her? One minute she was heartbroken, the next she was angry and now she was smiling and hanging on his every word just waiting to see what he would say next.

"Like what?" he asked, feeling prouder than a rooster strutting in a henhouse knowing that he had made her smile.

"Like that Gregory wanted to bed me. Or that men woo women... No man woos a woman anymore."

"Well they should," Wyatt replied with a grin that melted Francine's heart.

She quickly looked away from him. This was crazy. She was not falling in love with a ghost. Why did she always seem to fall for men that were completely unavailable? There had been several before Gregory and now there was the ultimate unavailable man. A civil war ghost whose touch she would never be able to feel no matter how sweet and caring he was.

"I should warn you that I have a history of falling for losers," she said softly.

Wyatt longed to reach out and wrap his arm around her sagging shoulders, pull her body tight against him and heal the hurt that Gregory had caused. He wanted to protect her from ever being hurt again. God knew he would never hurt her even if he could.

"Let me pick the next one," he offered.

She laughed, "Did you have someone in mind?"

Wyatt wanted to say yes but that wouldn't be fair to her. How did you ask a woman to love you when you couldn't give her a real relationship, "Not yet. Give me some time. I've only been back among the living for a couple of days."

Francine smiled but inside her heart was a wreck. Gregory had been cheating but it wasn't the loss of him that had her heart so beat up. She had known for a long time that that was coming and just hadn't wanted to admit it. No, what had her heart hurting was the fact that she wanted something she could never have. She wanted Wyatt.

They walked a long time in silence. Both lost too deeply in their own thoughts to attempt conversations. They were only a few blocks from Francine's apartment when the rain began to fall.

Francine was about to run but Wyatt stopped her, "Here, Franny, I don't want you getting all wet." he said. He pulled off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

Francine frowned at him and he shrugged, "I don't get wet," he promised.

Francine didn't argue, she held the wool jacket over her head and took off at a run toward the apartment with Wyatt right behind her. She was laughing as she unlocked the door and ran inside. Janice jumped from the couch with a small cry of shock.

"You scared the hell out of me!" she exclaimed and then she frowned as Francine seemed to be tossing something that Janice couldn't see behind her. Janice could hear the rain pouring outside but Francine looked almost completely dry, "Why aren't you wet?"

"Because Wyatt gave me his jacket."

"Why is Casper with you and why aren't you busy with Sir Gregory?" Janice hoped that maybe Wyatt had been able to make Francine see that jackass for what he truly was.

Francine's smile faded and she made her way across the living room and flopped down on the couch, "Gregory and I are over. He was cheating on me... Or with me I guess is more like it."

"I'm sorry, Francine. I guess this calls for an ice cream eating, nail painting, movie watching night?"

Francine smiled and laid her head on her best friends shoulder, "Sounds good to me," she replied. "But first I'm going to go take a shower and change into something more comfortable."

"I'll find us a good movie on pay per view. Something that shows all men for what they really are. Condescending, pig headed idiots who never use the head above their naval."

Wyatt frowned when Francine laughed and walked off to the bathroom. He hadn't found Janice's statement to be funny at all.

He grabbed the pad of paper and pen off the table and Janice smiled because she knew he was getting ready to scold her and she was finding that she liked this Wyatt a lot. Too bad he wasn't a living, breathing man because he seemed like the perfect one for Francine.

I wud say thank you for making Franny smile but that wud make me use the hed above my navel.

Janice laughed out loud and Wyatt found himself laughing as well, "Well I will tell you thank you for getting Francine away from Gregory. It's about time she left his ass."

She is a smart woman. She wud have figurd him out befor much longer.

"Now you have to go, Casper. This is going to be a girls night which means no nineteenth century civil war ghosts allowed."

Wat if want to stay? How are you gunna make me leave?

Janice smiled and crossed her arms over her chest, "Have you ever heard of the Ghostbusters, Casper?"

***

Francine looked all around for Wyatt when she walked out of the bathroom a half hour later but he was nowhere to be seen. She sat down on the couch beside Janice and ran her hand through her wet, curl filled hair.

"Wyatt?" Francine called out.

Janice shook her head as she popped open a tub of ice cream and handed Francine a spoon, "He's gone."

"How do you know? Oh let me guess you've been writing notes back and forth again."

Janice grinned sheepishly and stuck a big bite of cookies and cream ice-cream into her mouth, "He told you about that, huh?"

Francine nodded and Janice pointed to the paper and pen on the table. Francine picked it up and read over it, "He thinks I'm a smart woman?" Francine asked, she was talking to herself but Janice nodded anyway.

"Yes he does," she replied. "And you are."

Francine was used to Janice saying that but to hear that Wyatt thought she was smart filled her with pride. Most people did not think Francine was smart. Her love of history and the paranormal often had people believing that she was a little on the crazy side.

"So how did you get him to leave?" Francine asked as she tossed the paper back down on the table and got a spoonful of ice-cream.

"I told him the Ghostbusters would come and suck him up into a tiny machine with no room to move and he'd be stuck there forever."

Francine's eyes widened and then she burst out laughing, "And he believed you?" she gasped.

Janice shook her head and licked her spoon, "I don't know if he did or not but he left either way," she replied. "Now tell me what happened with Gregory."

Francine launched into the story and told Janice every gory detail from the night. By the time she was done the half gallon tub of ice cream was nearly gone.

"Thank God that Wyatt was there to help you out," Janice said with relief.

Francine nodded as an image of Wyatt's warm smile filled her mind, "Yes," she whispered softly.

Janice frowned. She knew her friend and she could tell that Francine was falling for Wyatt. Janice didn't want to see her friend hurt anymore and surely all that could come from a 'relationship' with a ghost was hurt. After all they could never have a real relationship when no one else could see him and they could never touch. She didn't mention any of this though. She would let Francine have her dreams for the night.

"Let's get to that movie," Janice said as she stretched out on the couch and turned the television volume up.

***

Wyatt didn't want to sleep. Nor did he want to sit alone in his empty apartment. He made his way out into the rain filled night. He wasn't sure where he planned on going. He saw a man and woman huddling together under a doorway to stay out of the rain. They were holding each other close and kissing. His hands were roaming over her back and she laughed breathlessly when he moved his lips from hers and whispered something in her ear.

Wyatt felt bitterness and jealousy fill him. If he couldn't be happy then he didn't want anyone else being happy. Childish? Yes, but he didn't care. He kicked his foot in a puddle of water and sent a wave of it through the air, soaking the man and woman who both let out startled gasps and looked around for where the water could have come from.

Satisfied that he had interrupted their loving moment, Wyatt moved on down the road. He walked for a long time with no particular destination in mind. Several times he crossed the street, not giving a care to oncoming traffic which just passed right through him anyway.

By the time he paid attention to where he was he was in a very run down part of town. Most of the buildings were empty and the windows boarded. He could hear the sounds of yelling and fighting coming from the apartments across the street. He was about to leave this part of town and head back to Francine's apartment building when a shop caught his eye.

This one wasn't boarded like the rest and there were lights coming from within. He walked down to the shop and his eyes widened when he saw the displays in the window. Cloves of garlic, various dream catchers and things that Wyatt had no clue what they were but resembled witchcraft and voodoo items. There were even things that looked like shrunken heads. Wyatt's curiosity got the better of him. He'd never seen anything like these things. He walked through the window, careful to avoid touching any items because, quite frankly, they gave him the chills.

He looked around the crowded room. Strong scents filled the air and nearly made him gag. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and saw a heavyset, pale skinned woman sitting beside a fire. She had a cup in her hands and was shaking it causing a rattling noise to fill the air. The woman had red hair that was streaked heavily with gray and pulled back in a tight bun. Her face was deeply lined with wrinkles, her nose was large and her lips were pursed tightly with very red lipstick and a darker shade outlining their shape. Her dress looked to be made of brown velvet and it was large and billowy and took up most of the small couch she was sitting upon.

"It's not polite to stare, young man. Did your mother teach you nothing?" the woman asked with a thick Russian accent. Wyatt looked behind him to see who she was talking to. "I'm talking to you, you foolish boy. Why do you not come and sit down?"

"Me, ma'am?" Wyatt asked. "You can see me?"

"Well of course I can see you. You are standing inside my store, are you not? Come and sit," she ordered again.

Wyatt found his legs moving across the store even though he couldn't remember telling them to do so. He sat down in the small chair beside the couch and watched the woman dump the contents of the cup on the table in front of her. Wyatt's eyes widened. Were those finger bones?

"What brings you to my store, Wyatt?" she asked as she stared down at the bones.

Wyatt's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, "How do you know my name?"

She smiled and he realized that her teeth were rotted and many were missing, "We have met before. Though I am not surprised that you do not remember. It was the summer of 1863 and you were dying with a bullet lodged deep inside your heart."

Wyatt laid his hand over the side of his chest where the bullet had entered and frowned at her, "You look old, ma'am, but not that old." He was convinced that she must be a little off her rocker if she expected him to believe what she was saying.

"Old? No, I am not old. I am ageless. I have been around since the beginning of time."

"I guess I shouldn't assume that you're lying since I am a one hundred and seventy-three year old ghost."

"You are no ghost," she snapped quickly as she put the bones back into the cup.

Wyatt sat back in the chair and decided to hear her through even though he thought she was a few eggs short of a dozen, "Then what am I?"

"A spirit," she replied with a shrug as her yellow eyes met his.

Wyatt had never seen eyes that color before. What in the world was she? "Spirit, ghost, they're the same thing." he muttered.

She reached out and tried to slap his knee but Wyatt jumped to his feet and moved away from her and against the fireplace. The flames shot through his body but he could not feel their heat. The woman had tried to touch him. Clearly she was crazier than he thought.

She laughed and it was a rough sound as she clutched at her ample chest and leaned her back against the couch, "There is no such thing as ghosts," she informed him. "Spirits linger when they have unfinished business."

Wyatt still didn't move from where he stood but he did meet her gaze again, "So I have unfinished business?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes. You were killed before you were supposed to be killed so I intervened to give you the chance to finish your business later."

"Finish it how? No one can see me! No one can touch me! What kind of business am I supposed to be figuring out?!"

"That is for you to figure out, Wyatt, not for me to tell you," she replied simply. "All I will tell you is that you died before you met who you were supposed to meet."

"Well whoever that was is long dead by now."

"This person is different. Many different lives they have led in many different times. Yes. Yes. This person does not remember these lives, only the one they are now leading and they are the one you were meant to meet. The one you were meant to..... Well no I will not tell you the rest. You will know too much if I do. This is for you to figure out."

"Can't you at least tell me who this person is?"

"They are like me. Gifted."

Wyatt's mind instantly went to Francine. She could hear him. She could see him. His eyes widened and she nodded, "I think you are figuring it out."

Wyatt frowned, "This makes no sense. Even if I find this person, you still haven't said if it's a man or a woman or what roll they would have played in my life. How am I supposed to accomplish my business if I don't know what it was?"

"That is for you to figure out, not Madam Zinga." She poured out the bones again and looked them over. "You need to go now. I have told you all I will tell you."

"Thanks for nothing, Madam Zinga," Wyatt growled as he moved away from the fire and toward the door.

"You should have a little faith in Madam Zinga," she called out as she sent him a gaze that seemed to see deep inside of him.

"I have nothing but contempt for you, ma'am," he replied with a sad shrug. "You should have let me die. This life I lead is a fate worse than death. Unseen. Unfelt. Unheard. I would rather be dead."

Madam Zinga shook her head, causing her multiple chins to jiggle and then she gave him a smile, "It is for you to figure out," she repeated. Wyatt blew out a long impatient breath and left the shop. This woman was nuts. The idea that people died and came back in another time was insanity. Who was this person he was supposed to meet? Was it Francine? And if so then what the hell was he supposed to do now that he knew her. Loneliness filled him once again.

The rain had stopped, the streets were silent and empty. Not that that made any difference to a man no one could see. Wyatt's mind was racing as he thought about what Madam Zinga had said, or hadn't said was more like it, and his own growing feelings for the woman he couldn't have.