Ghost Memories Read Online Free

are not about, doing as we would normally do.” She was quiet for a minute. “Bartholomew, I know how you love this place, how your dreams were here, but I believe we must run away.”
    â€œMy dreams are where you are. But we will not run away. Not unless forced in time. I love you, and I care not about any place, but I know that you love your father, and so I will try through my friend, Captain Beckett, to reach your father. Only if we are forced will we go. Let’s give it a few months. I would never have you resent me in time, hate me that you lost the love of your father.”
    She cradled his face. “That you can care, when he has treated you so shabbily, makes me love you all the more.”
    â€œAh, well!” He caught her hand and kissed it. “I will not wait forever.” he teased. “There are places we can go. We can go to Jamaica, Bermuda or even New Orleans. I have friends there still,” he assured her.
    â€œWe will wait three months after your fishing trip,” she told him. “Not a day longer. And if we are forced to flee, then later when we have our own precious little daughter, he will make peace with us. He is, at the bottom of his heart, a loving man.”
    He agreed; they kissed.
    And they knew they must part.

Part II
    Death
    â€œAh, what a beauty!” Captain Craig Beckett applauded, watching as Andrew Morton, a businessman from Key West and a good friend, reeled in a giant blue marlin, a magnificent fish in truth. “What a fine beauty! You’ve done yourself proud, Andrew!”
    â€œCouldn’t have done it with the expertise of your young friend there!” Morton said, acknowledging Bartholomew.
    â€œIt was my pleasure, sir,” Bartholomew said.
    â€œA round of rum, a mighty toast!” Beckett said, grinning. He looked at Bartholomew—a look that assured him that he was a good man, and a good man making the right connections.
    â€œRum, yes! Or grog, rather, I believe—we’ve sugared her down mightily and added a bit of water,” said Peter Yearling, another friend of Beckett’s, who worked as an architect.
    â€œGrog, it is! Peter, soon enough Bartholomew is going to need your services, you know. You had best plan to cut him a fine deal. He’ll be running merchandise up and down the coast, and bringing back the finest goods from all over the world,” Beckett said, accepting the mug handed to him by the architect.
    â€œA home!” Peter boomed. “Indeed, when you are ready, I will build you a fine home, my friend. And as it is done, I will keep the cost down for you—and expect the best in tea, silk, and so on in return!”
    Bartholomew laughed with the men.
    The conversation went on, and he was pleased, and he thought that he might have a chance of creating a home here, with Victoria. He was befriending men who were respected in the community; he would make the living he must—an honest living—to be a good husband and provider for Victoria.
    â€œWhat say you, Bartholomew? Onward to the islands?” Beckett asked.
    â€œPardon?” He had been thinking about Victoria.
    â€œWe’ve decided to lengthen the trip. Head for the southern Bahamas,” Beckett said.
    His own ship was anchored nearby with Jim Torn awaiting his command.
    He smiled. “Sir, if you’ll forgive me, I will return to Key West. I have many books you have given me, regarding money matters and record keeping. I’d study them before we head to Richmond, sir.”
    â€œThere’s my man! Stalwart in battle, earnest in peace!” Beckett applauded.
    Bartholomew thanked him for his support, said his goodbyes to the others and headed for the ship’s ladder down to his small boat. He rowed to the Bessie Blue, where his men awaited him, and he assured them all that the expedition had gone well.
    Pleased with the day, he was heedless of the wind or the weather. He had been away from