Heart Healer Read online

  “All right, but remember you are my wife, and there is no place you can run to.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Turning away she moved toward the door, thanking God for the breeze, as she fought back the tears. She tried to take calming breaths but nothing seemed to help.

  She was completely alone and terrified.

  “Mrs. Von-Clyer.”

  Cringing at being addressed in that way, she looked over and saw a man who looked like a younger version of Blake. He came over and kissed the top of her hand.

  “My very best wishes. I want to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?” she asked, trying to seem as though she knew him so she would not appear rude.

  “I am sorry we have not been formally introduced. I’m Nicholas Von-Clyer, Blake’s son.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Von-Clyer.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Von-Clyer, and thank you for making my father so happy. He has not been the same since the death of my mother Rose.”

  “Oh!” Catherine exclaimed. “I was not aware that Mr. Von-Clyer was a widower.”

  Nicholas was about to explain to her when Blake came out. He looked furious when he saw Catherine and Nicholas talking.

  “Catherine, come my dear. Our other guests are waiting.” He put an arm around her shoulders and led her away from Nicholas.

  ****

  Night had fallen and all the guests were gone. She was in Blake’s bedroom getting ready to give her most precious gift to a man she despised. She sat at the dressing table looking into the mirror, not even recognizing the person looking back at her. When Blake came into the room with a liquor bottle in his hand, he smiled at her.

  “Blake, I didn’t expect you so soon,” she said nervously.

  “You have been up here for a half hour, my dear. I thought you would be ready for me by now.” His words were slurred.

  He set the bottle down on the table. Then he went over to her and started touching her.

  “You are so beautiful, so beautiful.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, but she jumped up from the chair. He lunged for her wrist as she glimpsed a flash of anger across his face.

  “What were you and my son talking about?” he demanded.

  “Nothing,” she said, looking up at him and feeling a cold chill of fear run down her back.

  “Nothing! It did not look like nothing to me!” he yelled pulling her closer by her wrist and kissing her roughly. She struggled against him finally pushing him away.

  “I’ll show you what it means to be my wife,” he said angrily and threw her to the floor. He then began to kick her repeatedly.

  “Blake, please stop!” she cried.

  He pulled her by her hair, punching her and slapping her across the face. Catherine cried out and begged him to stop before he threw her on the bed and jumped on top of her. After he had his way with her, Blake lay across the bed sleeping as through he didn’t have a care in the world while Catherine lay crumpled in a corner of the room in excruciating pain. She tried to get up, but she kept falling back onto the floor. She knew she could not live this way. She had to get away from here. Taking hold of the edge of the nightstand and the washbasin, she slowly pulled herself up, trying not to scream out in pain. She quietly walked to the door praying it was not locked. When she felt it wasn’t, she opened it, slid out into the hallway, and ran for dear life. Her body screamed for her to stop, but she didn’t stop until she came to the riverside. With one last painful breath, she threw herself into the black waters.

  Chapter Three

  December 2014

  Christopher

  As Christopher pulled into the driveway, ghosts of the past filled his mind. The trees moved to and fro and the house rose up behind the trees like a ship being raised from the sea. The house was built in the early 1700s and had been in his family for generations, but for him it only brought back memories of Chelsea.

  They met at Columbia University where he was getting his degree in architecture and Chelsea was studying for a degree in journalism. They came from different worlds. Her father was a powerful judge and he was a simple country boy. But when they met at a fraternity party, those things did not matter. They spent the night talking and soon became inseparable.

  After graduation they were married, and after their honeymoon, Christopher started working for an architectural firm in Manhattan, NY and Chelsea got a job at the New York Times. When their son, Ryan, was born, they thought they had the fairy tale life. A week after Ryan’s birth, Christopher got a phone call that turned his world upside down.

  He was in his office when the phone rang. He remembered the voice of his dad telling him that he was not able to come to New York to see baby Ryan. He told Christopher he was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease. Christopher was in shock. He was an only child. His mother had died of cancer when he was three years old and now he had to come to terms with the fact that soon he would lose his father. He called Chelsea and told her what was going on and got on the first plane to Beaufort, SC.

  After the plane landed, he began the drive to his childhood home. Driving down the familiar streets sparked memories of his dad. Christopher was born in 1980, when the “Me” generation was in full swing. Everyone was obsessed with themselves, but his father never got sucked into it, never obsessed over personal fulfillment and fitness, or thought about how he fit into everything. His dad was a quiet man who never yelled or shouted when he was angry and would give the shirt off his back to someone in need of it. His dad taught him the dos and don’ts of life. “Christopher”—his dad would say to him—“never lie, cheat, or steal. Treat others how you would want to be treated. Always do your best in everything you do. Always hold doors open and pull out chairs for women, children, and the elderly. Never show how much money you have in your wallet in public. Always treat women with love and respect. Shake hands with a firm grip and always give the customer a little more than expected.” They were the rules his father lived by, and he taught his child the same rules.

  His dad took him to church every Sunday. His dad loved his wife with all his heart and soul. After his mom died, his dad never took off his wedding ring, and her portrait still hung over their bed. Christopher remembered staring up at his mom’s portrait for hours trying to come up with real memories of her, but he couldn’t. He only remembered the idea of her. He would always beg his dad to tell him about her, which his dad was more than happy to do. Those were his bedtime stories when he was a child. It broke Christopher’s heart that soon his dad would not remember any of this and when he looked up at her portrait, he would be looking at a stranger.

  When Christopher got to his father’s home, he didn’t notice anything different about his dad. But after a couple days of being home, he started to notice that his dad would ask him the same questions again and again. Then one morning his dad couldn’t remember where he put the key to the millwork shed.

  That night he was on the phone with Chelsea telling her what the doctors had told him to whom Christopher had spoken to earlier that day. He knew he couldn’t leave his dad alone and Chelsea agreed. So, he quit his job and they sold their penthouse in New York and moved to Christopher’s childhood home.

  At first everything seemed to be going well. His dad tried to be the best grandfather he could be for as long as he was able. Christopher’s father bragged that Ryan could fish before he could walk. They would go down to the river and spend hours there. Christopher started helping his dad in the mill making furniture again. He had forgotten how much he loved working with wood, and what a talent he had for it. On weekends, he and Chelsea walked around Beaufort with Ryan in his stroller or they went to the beach. His dad’s illness began to progress, and things started to change.

  Chelsea started to become very cold and distant from Ryan. She started going to parties. She began socializing and made the acquaintance of the most elite families in Beaufort. No matter how many times he asked her to go ou
t on a date night with him or go to the beach for some family time, she would shake her head and drive away.

  The night his dad died he was in his hospital room listening to the sounds of the heart monitor and the respirator. His dad couldn’t do anything on his own and Christopher knew the moment was coming when his dad would be at peace. It had been very hard to watch his dad suffer for the past three years. Christopher’s emotions went from shock to utter sadness, to anger, and back again as the scenes of the past three years played in his mind like a movie. Ryan begged his granddaddy to go fishing, but, with him no longer able to walk, the answer always had to be ‘no.’ Toward the end, Christopher’s father suffered horribly and lamented about his world coming to an end. Christopher’s father almost set the house on fire and that’s when Christopher knew he had to put his father in a home which is when his father gave up on life. But his heart was also breaking because he was losing the father he looked up to, the father that had raised him to be the man he was today. With tears in his eyes, he gave his dad one last hug and watched him leave this world.

  He sat in his dad’s room, unmoving as the nurses unhooked his dad and wheeled him down to the morgue. An eerie quiet fell upon the room, and he knew there was nothing more he could do. So, he finally got up and began slowly walking down the hall. As he walked through the hospital and drove home, he felt himself getting angry at everyone who was going on with their lives as normal, because for him nothing seemed normal anymore. His dad was gone and his marriage was on the rocks and there was nothing he could do about it. But his anger quickly turned to utter terror when he saw Ryan walking down the highway.

  He slammed on his brakes and rushed over to Ryan, but Ryan was so upset that Christopher couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It took his breath away at the thought that something had happened to Chelsea. He put Ryan into the car and rushed home. Christopher ran into the house calling for Chelsea, but he didn’t find her. He did however find a letter from her telling him that she couldn’t be the wife and mother that he and Ryan needed and that she needed to find herself. She had taken a job in Paris, but a part of her would always love him and Ryan. He set the letter down and saw Ryan standing in the doorway. He went over and picked Ryan up and held him in his arms. He felt his heart breaking because Chelsea had left, and what was worse, Ryan saw her leave and that was why he was on the highway. He succumbed to tears and sobs. That night Ryan started having nightmares. Christopher woke to Ryan’s piercing screams. He ran to his son’s room, but nothing he did would comfort Ryan. The nightmares got worse. Soon he was getting up three or four times a night. He never found out what Ryan’s nightmares were about, and after the night Chelsea left, Ryan stopped speaking.

  It felt like an eternity but it was only a year that had passed by. He didn’t know how to process any of it as flashes of memories of everything that had transpired crossed his mind.

  Christopher pulled the car into the carport and he and Ryan took the groceries inside. Once he was finished, he looked around to see where Ryan had gone off to. Ryan was in his room holding his teddy bear, staring out at nothing.

  “Hey Sport. It’s getting late. Do you want me to make you some lunch?” he asked, hoping that Ryan would speak. He spoke not a word.

  Christopher went over to the bed and sat next to Ryan.

  “What about Mr. Bear. Is he getting hungry?”

  Still, he didn’t say a word. He wrapped Ryan in his arms, knowing that the past still haunted them.

  ****

  That night, the sound of someone calling out for Christopher startled him awake. Thinking it was Ryan, he rushed to his room. He found Ryan sound asleep. He was about to go back to bed when something told him to check outside. Christopher walked around the yard. Everything seemed fine. Suddenly, something compelled him to go farther down to the river. Something caught his eye. The light of the moon was shining down on a woman face down in the water, clinging to a log. Christopher’s heart was pounding against his chest as he dove into the muddy water and pulled the woman to shore. He tilted her head back slightly, plugged her nose, and sealed his lips over hers. He tried to force breath into her but something didn’t give. He let out an involuntary curse as he readjusted her head with shaking fingers. He tried again, and this time, he saw her chest rise and felt the air fill her lungs. Five full breaths, and then he sat up to look at her. No movement. “No, no, no!” he whispered. He moved his fingers down her sternum, found the spot two inches from the bottom, and placed his hands over the other, trying not to think about how cold her wet flesh felt under his hands as he began compressions. He didn’t know how much time had passed when she finally took in a sharp breath. It was then that Christopher noticed her beautiful, dark brown eyes and her old-fashioned clothing. She must be a tour guide or something at one of the nearby plantations. Her eyes closed once again but not before she started shaking uncontrollably. He quickly scooped her up in his arms and rushed her back up to the house, but as he ran up the path, he felt something pelt him. He looked up and saw that ice was falling from the sky. He felt his heart in his throat knowing that the paramedics would not be able to get to them with the roads becoming icy slick.

  He laid her down on the couch and covered her with every blanket he could get his hands on. He then started a fire, and with his mind racing, he grabbed his cell phone praying the call would go through to his friend, Emma. She and Christopher had grown up together and she was now a doctor.

  “Emma, I need your help. It’s an emergency!”

  “Christopher, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Ryan?”

  “No! No, I found a woman in the river. It looks like someone beat her and threw her in the river to die.”

  “I will be right over.”

  The minutes seemed to turn into hours as Christopher anxiously waited for Emma. The woman went in and out of consciousness, crying out in agony every time she moved. Christopher was about to call Emma again when there was a knock on the door. He raced to the door and threw it open. Emma stood in the doorway in full doctor mode.

  “Where is she?”

  “In the living room.”

  Emma walked past him and went into the living room. She pulled back the blankets to examine the woman, but her doctor mode went into shock when she saw all the bruises.

  “We need to get her out of these wet clothes before hypothermia sets in. Let’s get her upstairs where I can examine her better.”

  Christopher carried the woman upstairs and went to his room to get some clothes for her. He paced up and down the hallway. He couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. Time seemed to slow. Seconds, minutes, hours…he didn’t know how much time had passed. He felt an eerie chill when Emma came out into the hallway.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “She has four broken ribs and a high fever from being in the cold water, but she is going to be okay. I gave her something for the pain so she should sleep through the night, but call me if anything changes. I will be back in the morning to check on her. But Christopher, her clothes are too authentic for her to be an actress doing a reenactment.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked in disbelief.

  Emma smiled a knowing smile, remembering the connection she saw between Christopher and the women tonight. She always had a strong sense about the supernatural and she could feel that something extraordinary was taking place with this mystery woman.

  “Christopher, you know that I love you like a brother. I’ve known you since we were kids,” she said taking his hands into hers “And I think you both should grab onto this miracle before it slips through your fingers.”

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth, Christopher

  For the past nine years Elizabeth watched as every day a piece of her family died and what was worse, she remembered every whisper of love, every kiss Ian had given her. That man no longer existed to her. He proved that when he sold their daughter to the most dangerous man on earth. She no longer could stand idly by.
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  She used the Water stone to open a time portal to send Catherine somewhere safe. Elizabeth knew there would be deadly consequences for using the stone. It had been more than a thousand years. In Heaven, angels sang and praised God, but when God made the earth and humans, he also made jewels: the four-elemental stone; the Fire, Water, Wind and Earth stone. Lucifer became so angry and jealous that God made humans in his image. He gathered other angels to destroy God. But Lucifer was no match for God, and he was defeated. Lucifer and the other angels were sent into the deep fiery pits of the earth to suffer. Before Lucifer was banished, he stormed into God’s throne room, stealing two of the four jewels, taking the Earth and Fire stones with him.

  Whenever one of stones was used, the others would grow in power. Elizabeth knew that Lucifer would know one of the stones had been used, because he used his power to block the time portal so she could not go back and save her son James. She had to hide the stone and make sure he never found out that a child born between time was the one who could break into God’s throne, stealing the other stone for Lucifer or to save the human race.

  She quietly crept into the bedroom, and when she watched Catherine sleep peacefully for the first time in nine years, she knew she had done the right thing for her. She just wished she could have done the same thing for James. Christopher was also in the room, keeping watch over Catherine. Elizabeth knew he was the right person to keep the stone safe until Catherine was ready. She slipped the stone into Christopher’s pocket then whispered into Christopher’s ear.

  “Keep the stone safe until Catherine is ready. You’ll know the right moment to give it to her.”

  She faded away.

  ****

  Christopher felt as though he was having an out of body experience. One moment he was sitting in a chair keeping watch over the young woman and the next he was standing in a living room with the women he had saved, tears streaming down her face while she clung to a newborn baby. There was also a man pacing the room like a caged lion.