The Saddest Anchor (closed for DeliciousMaiden)

The crack of wood echoed sharply over the peaceful water, this brought Johnathan's head up. The cry had him on his feet, he saw the splash from the old boat house and took off, headless of stones and twigs that stung his bare feet, with surprising agility he curbed the shore, some of the old Johnathan shone through, but only briefly. He made it to the dock and he could see where bubbles still broke the surface, he glanced up at the house...how did he make it over here so quickly? The evidence lay behind him in bloodied footprints, but he paid the raw soles of his feet no heed as he dove into the water.

In the water he found a person struggling to reach the surface, the coldness shocking him to his senses. He grabbed hold of a handfull of shirt and dragged the person to the surface, hooking his arm around the body he kicked to the bank and dragged the person up behind him. Only then did he realize it was a woman, he turned her on her side to let her cough out some of the water and then when she straigtened up he found Grace's eyes looking up at him. For a moment he was lost, then it occured to him that the face didn't fit. He sat down on his haunches and wiped the wet hair out of his face,

"Shouldn't you be in a swimsuit or judging from the water temprature a wetsuit?"

How long she was beneath the water's surface Sarah had no way of knowing. Her lungs stung until she knew that any minute she would need to take the breath that would fill her lungs with water.

Then suddenly she was grabbed more forcibly than the hold on her foot dragging her downwards, for seconds it was as if the two forces wrestled against each other until she was dragged free and hauled up to the surface, just as she began to gasp and take in water.

Somehow the deck was beneath her and she was coughing and struggling for breath. Aside from the fright she was shivering and only belatedly realised that her saviour had been Johnathan.

"Shouldn't you be in a swimsuit or judging from the water temprature a wetsuit?"

His sarcasm cut her to the quick as she struggled upright the coughing delaying her answer.

"And shouldn't you be stopping your wife from trying to drown me?"

The retort was out of her mouth before she could think, but rather than being hostile she sounded shaken. She had no strength or will to banter or argue with him...

At her retort he narrowed his eyes, a reply building up, but the burning sting of his feet made him lose his balance and he ended up on his backside. He lifted his feet and looked at the various cuts and what he could feel will later turn into bruises. He shook his head and then slowly got back to his feet, the pathway back to his home will take longer, but it will be kinder to his feet. He leaned down and offered her his hand,

"I have towels, a heater, warm shower and sugar water."

It was the best he could offer, also it was the most hostipital he have been in a very long time. He looked down at her, he was between two thoughts, if she took up the offer, he would do anything he could to keep her comfortable...if not, he was seriously considering tossing her back into the water, his bloody feet hurt and it was her own fault sitting here on rotten boards. At least if she accepted his invitation it made the burning, throbbing pain worth it, as he will get to see Grace's eyes for a while.

They sat side by side for long moments on the wooden decking. She felt terrible. She had been so scared and then so relieved and then with that comment it had all gone so wrong again. And now after her comment he was silent.

"I have towels, a heater, warm shower and sugar water."

She looked up to find him holding out his hand to her. Inexplicably her eyes filled with tears and she knew he had seen them before she had the sense to avert her gaze.

"Thank you ... "

She responded softly as she put her hand in his and allowed him to help draw her to her feet. She felt light headed, dizzy even and it took a few seconds for her to steady herself. Only then did she notice the way he was dressed and his lack of footwear.

"Use my boots ... "

She offered relieved at being able to focus on something practical and indicating the boots and rucksack that were still in the place she had left them further back on the decking.

"They may be a bit small, but it would save your feet."

She cared little that they might become bloodied or sullied.

"It'll save me carrying them too..."

She told him as she reached down and picked up her rucksack thankful that it was light.

He looked at the boots and shook his head, they will never fit him,

"Thanks doc, but they will never fit."

He pulled his shirt over his head and wrung it out, slipping it back on he looked at her,

"You should wear them though, I believe you would not be happy if you walk bare foot the whole way."

He wiped the few droplets of water from his face and then headed down the much better trail than the way he came here, he waited for her to catch up before he spoke,

"What brings you out here?"

"Thanks doc, but they will never fit. You should wear them though, I believe you would not be happy if you walk bare foot the whole way."

She looked from her boots across to Johnathan and realised that he wouldn't even be able to squeeze into them. She watched as he pulled off his shirt and realised that he was stood in water-sodden boxers which made him appear as good as naked. She saw the common sense of his words and actions though and sitting well away from the water this time she sat down beside her boots and pulled off her sweatshirt, the fabric having become water logged and squeezed the worst out as she sat in just bra top. The jeans stuck to her legs and as such she decided to pull off her socks, wring them out and then ease her feet into the boots as Johnathan had suggested. She looked up with a shiver, though in truth being without her sweatshirt was comparatively warmer than having that cold water close to her skin.

"What brings you out here?"

He asked as she stood up preparing to follow him along the lakeside path.

" ... experimenting in parapsychology ... "

She glanced towards the water to the side.

" ... think I'm out of my depth in more ways than one ... "

He glanced sideways at her, decided he did not need to know and kept walking, realizing how much cuts his feet actually had. And he was sober again, the cold water seemed to have shocked his carefully grafted drunken state right out of his system. He laughed suddenly, a plank broke and the doctor fell into the water, directing her scorn at his wife, Grace never was malicious and he was sure she wasn't sticking around to kill people. He thought again of her kindness and tenderness, the way she comforted him when his brother passed, the times she cheered him up when he got downtrodden by some silly critic remark...he frowned, then looked at Sarah as they walked,

"Tell me doc, if there is a history of depression with a person and said person undergoes a severe crisis, say the loss of his or her emotional buoy, how does one help said person?"

She picked her way slowly following her barefooted and reluctant host. As ever this had not turned out as she had intended.

"Tell me doc, if there is a history of depression with a person and said person undergoes a severe crisis, say the loss of his or her emotional buoy, how does one help said person?"

She drew level with him and they advanced on the porch front.

"Why do you find it so hard to call me by name?"

She challenged him, halting as she did.

"If you have a professional question I'd tell you my hours of business, but as I'm heading out of town shortly then it would be pointless."

She was cold and exhausted and more than traumatised by the whole chain of events.

"Look Mr Moore I could have died out there. And though I'm sincerely grateful you dragged me out, I've really had enough of your quips and digs. If you can't show some basic level of humanity then I'm damned if I'm going to put myself and might I add my sanity at risk. So if you're unwilling to be civil I'll go find my truck and dry up at home... "

He turned around, he stepped up to her and leaned forward, staring into her eyes,

"Saving your life and then offering to help you dry, clean and warm yourself is not civil? If that is your godamned answer to a question, then you can go find your bloody truck and stay away."

He turned and stalked off, he knew she would have much to say, but he ignored her or any comments she could throw at him. He really didn't need this kind of aggrevation, OK so she was a hot, smart woman with eyes similar to Grace's, but that did not give her the right to treat him like he was some barbarian.

By the time he reached his backdoor he had calmed down a bit, but not by much, as he stepped onto the porch he could find, for a moment he stared at the bottle, then he turned and threw it into the lake. He noticed that his feet had left bloodied footprints behind, he pushed open the door and walked in, heading to his bathroom to get his disinfectant and to see if he could fix up his feet.

Sarah Shelton


"Saving your life and then offering to help you dry, clean and warm yourself is not civil? If that is your godamned answer to a question, then you can go find your bloody truck and stay away."

Sarah watched him stalk off in the direction of his cabin. It wasn't what he did that she had issues with it was the way he patronized her and called her 'doc' instead of using her name, instead of seeing her like a woman.

... whoa there!!

She mentally reigned in her thoughts.
Where had THAT come from?! She didn't like anything about Johnathan Moore: He was egotistical, aggressive, a drunk, most likely a depressive and perhaps even a fantasist! There was nothing about that man she even liked!

Increasing her pace, Sarah came to the fork in the path. To the right lay the cabin and to the left her truck and the prospect of a hot bath and warming up in the privacy of her own home. And afterwards she would pack her things and never darken the door of Joh---.

Sarah froze in the middle of her mental rant.
She was there again. The woman. Grace.
And she was watching Sarah, Sarah was sure of it.
Slowly Sarah began to walk in the direction of the cabin, her eyes fixed on that window.

"Patrick, where are you when I need you?"

She murmured under her breath, the words more to reassure herself than anything else. And yet she couldn't help but recall Patrick's words; " ... reach out to her ... communicate in the way she wants ... build a rapport...."

Sarah found she had walked past the porch now and was stood looking in at the window where Grace still stood smiling.

"You fucking tried to kill me, you bitch ..."

The uncharacteristically hostile words had left Sarah's mouth before she could stop them. Not exactly the approach Patrick had recommended for sure! If Grace had been hostile to Sarah before, the girl was sure that Johnathan's wife would be far from responsive given her outburst.

She felt the emotion before she saw the reaction. And then the sound filled her ears.

Grace was laughing ...

Grace and Sarah

It had worked. The girl had fallen in the lake and Johnathan had saved her.
And then the two had had yet another spat and ended up stalking off in opposite directions. Grace watched Johnathan as he entered the cabin. He would have been stomping his feet if they had not been so badly cut up. Outside Grace watched as the girl prepared to turn back to her truck and then froze her eyes locked with Grace's.

At any time Grace knew Sarah might run, but this time she stepped closer and closer. The girl was understandably upset and fearful of the inexplicable link she had with Grace.

"You fucking tried to kill me, you bitch ... "

The accusation was thrown at Grace. The first direct communication between Grace since her passing. And from a girl who was stood eyes flaring with anger even as she shivered and dripped piteously. And bizarrely Grace saw the funny side, laughter rising within her until she let it out, belatedly becoming aware that Sarah could hear and see her mirth and that the young girl's features had relaxed into a smile as somehow an understanding passed between the two of them.

"... doesn't mean I like you ... or believe in you ... "

Sarah told Grace as the laughter subsided.

"But as you've got my attention ... what do you want ... ?"

Sarah offered. The words that Grace realised she had been longing to hear.

Sarah Shelton

Johnathan was busy cleaning his feet with antiseptic and luke warm water, it burned, he had to grit his teeth against the pain. That did mean that it was working, he pulled out a small vial out of the first aid kit, it was usually used for iron deficiency, but it could close up most of the cuts, he braced himself as he dabbed the amber liquid to the biggest cut on his foot. He almost blacked out from the pain which immediately shot through him, he did softly curse though, this was going to be a long morning.

When he was done, he limped to the main bedroom, he noticed the backdoor still stood open, but he ignored it for now. Dressing in new clothing, he made his way to the living room and switched on the heater. On his way to close the back door he heard voices, as he drew nearer he noticed it to be just one voice...a voice he had thought to never hear again. He stepped outside, the soft soled shoes making no sound as he did, he looked at Sarah's back as she spoke to the empty air. He scratched his head, perhaps she was wrong, maybe she had gone mad, but then the words' content seemed to make sense...she was talking to Grace! His Grace, she was here. He took half a step forward,

"Grace"

Oh how he wish he could see her, or just hear her and here stood this doctor who have done nothing but aggrevate him and she could see and hear the spirit of his departed wife. Unfortnately it was around then that his feet decided they had enough and he had to sink down in a chair, looking up at the doctor who had turned to face him. She was cold and very uncomfortable from the look on her face and the paleness of her skin, she was standing on his porch though, something he had not expected. A part of him regretted lashing out at her, he should have stayed calm, but staying calm was so hard lately.

"You can talk to her."

His mouthcorner quirked slightly, he felt like he could say 'I told you so' but it was best not to upset her further.

He realized he had not combed his hair after drying them, he had not shaven in days, again he looked like a mess, a well-dressed mess, but a mess anyway. He sank back into his chair, relieving more pressure on his feet.

Sarah could not deny Grace's presence, but she didn't have to be happy about it.

"... doesn't mean I like you ... or believe in you ... "

Sarah could just imagine what Patrick would say when he learned what had happened.

"But as you've got my attention ... what do you want ... ?"

Naively Sarah expected that Grace would reply, stating clearly why it was she was haunting her husband and what exactly it had to do with Sarah, but she should have known from her time with Patrick that it didn't work like that. Instead Grace showed her a series of disjointed images, the water, the weeds, the image of Dan on the porch and his rush to save her yet instead of being coloured by the fear she had felt it was the dead woman's emotions that Sarah felt. And then it was as if the news reel had run out and left Sarah and Grace's eyes locked as the dead woman seemed to will her to understand.

"Fine Grace, I see what you wanted, but it wasn't funny ...."

She shook her head.

"And anyway ... it didn't work ... "

No matter how much it seemed Grace wanted Johnathan and Sarah to join forces it wasn't going to happen.

"Grace, even you can't make your husband ... "

She halted seeing the smile, almost a smug smile on Grace's face.

"Grace"

Sarah turned to see Johnathan, newly changed, but looking askance at what he had no doubt overheard. She watched him sink into the chair though she was uncertain as to whether that was because he was feeling faint or because his feet were hurting him.

"You can talk to her."

His words were a statement rather than a question.

"Not really ... "

Sarah responded.

"I can see her ... and I heard her laughing ... "

She glanced back towards the window, but strangely Grace was gone.

"You wife has one bizarre sense of humour ... "

Sarah could not help but comment, not realising that she had used the present tense.

"I haven't heard her speak yet. But she showed me images and I ... seem to be able to sense her emotions ... "

Her words was like water to a thirsty man, it made him smile,

"Yes, she has a strange sense of humor, she was also very passionate. Could be why she went to such extremes to get you here."

He glanced up at her again,

"You're cold, come inside, I have the heating on in the living room and I'm sure a warm shower will help you feel better."

He lurched to his feet and studied her for a few seconds,

"I'm sorry for lashing out at you and if some of my remarks seemed barbed. Can I make it up with warm coffee?"

He held his arm out towards the door, giving her a choice, to accept his offer or walk away.

"Yes, she has a strange sense of humor, she was also very passionate. Could be why she went to such extremes to get you here."

For the first time he gave a genuine smile and although he looked wrecked, Sarah could see what it had been that had attracted Grace.

"You're cold, come inside, I have the heating on in the living room and I'm sure a warm shower will help you feel better."

Only now had Sarah become aware again that she was stood in the sweatshirt she had pulled back on to protect her from the foliage; that garment along with her jeans were clung to her like an icy second skin. She blushed as he took in the bedraggled sight of her, Grace temporarily forgotten.

"I'm sorry for lashing out at you and if some of my remarks seemed barbed.
Can I make it up with warm coffee?"

She nodded slowly, giving a shy smile as she moved towards the door.

"I'm sorry too. You seem to bring out the worst in me ... "

She shook her head incredulously. Usually she was so in control and somehow hadn't known how to cope with all that had been thrown at her in connection with the Moore's.

"Coffee would be heaven, thank you ... "

She told him.

He moved inside, showing her to the bathroom,

"I'll get you something to wear while we dry out your clothing, oh and uhm...I'll get you a fresh towel."

He moved away, limping slightly, although the shoes helped a lot to protect his feet. He filled the coffee maker with coffee and added the water before switching it on. He collected a fresh towel and pulled out a jean and sweater which belonged to Grace, it was a better option than one of his jerseys. He knocked on the door and placed the clothing and towel on the sink counter,

"I'll be in the kitchen."

He moved to the kitchen and sank down in a chair, watching as the coffee dripped into the jug, his mind racing with the possibilities of what kept Grace here.

Sarah followed Johnathan to the bathroom.

"I'll get you something to wear while we dry out your clothing, oh and uhm...I'll get you a fresh towel."

She thanked him and gratefully pulled off her sweatshirt, folding it and putting it into the bath where the lake water couldn't do any damage. She turned at the knock at the door and opened it for Johnathan to enter and thanked him for the clothes he left for her, smiling as he ducked out telling her;

"I'll be in the kitchen."

Perching on the bath edge she took off her boots and next struggled with her jeans and finally managed to peel them off her frozen legs. Her underwear followed quickly behind, the sodden pile growing in the bath. She would ask Johnathan for a carrier bag she decided and take those back home in her rucksack.

The shower was bliss. The warmth soothed her frozen limbs and then as she got used to the temperature she gradually turned up the heat until she was surrounded by scented steam as she used the masculine gel and shampoo that was at hand in the shower cubicle. Reluctantly she finally shut off the water and stepped out, drying herself as thoroughly as she could and then pulling on the jeans and jumper over her otherwise naked body. She left the boots in the bathroom and swathed her damp hair with the towel then turned, rucksack in hand and headed for the kitchen.

"Coffee smells delicious ... "

She commented as she entered.

"Ah your timing is superb."

He turned to her, he had just finished pouring, luckily his hands was empty as he faced her, the image slammed into him almost harder than any fist could. She looked so much like Grace, the only thing to help him keep perspective was the flash of her light hair.

"So Sarah, how do you take your coffee? You can go through to the living room."

He could hear the faint tremor in his voice, and the hand that direcvted her to the living room door had a slight tremble to it.

"I'll bring you the coffee."

"Ah your timing is superb."

Sarah smiled warmly, finding that she liked this newly hospitable Johnathan. They had indeed had many run-ins and she sincerely hoped that their truce would hold now.

"So Sarah, how do you take your coffee? You can go through to the living room."

Hospitable indeed, she reflected and his kind invitation.

"Just slightly white, no sugar please,"

She told him and moved in the direction that he indicated as he offered to bring her coffee through. She hadn't been in here before and it was here she saw photographs of Grace on the wall and all around the room. It was comfortable and cosy she approved as she lowered herself onto the far end of the sofa.

"You have a lovely home ... "

She complimented, thanking him as she accepted her coffee and took a welcome sip.

He looked around, then took a seat in his old armchair,

"Thank you, it took a while to fix up. I am rather fond of it, it is much better than the place in the city."

He took a sip of his coffee and sat there looking at her, it was strange to have another person here since the past few months. He was first at a loss for words, he could feel that the truce they had now balanced on a knife point and he had no wish to upset that balance so soon.

"I heard on the news last night that I have been spotted. They make it sound like I ran away."

He chuckled,

"I propably did, didn't I?"

He realized that it sounded like he was talking more to himself than to her. But he was sure she would understand and talk to him,

"What did Grace show you before I came out? You mentioned something about her not being able to make me do something."

"Thank you, it took a while to fix up. I am rather fond of it, it is much better than the place in the city."

She smiled across at Johnathan as he sat in the armchair opposite. They drank their coffee in companionable silence.

"I heard on the news last night that I have been spotted. They make it sound like I ran away. I propably did, didn't I?"

Sarah nodded and grinned.

"Well, if you have a place in town and went awol, then I guess they might thing you ran away. And ... well, it's not for me to say, but you've not been into town much since you've been at the cabin, so, I guess you've understandably become a bit of a recluse."

She eyed him nervously hoping she hadn't overstepped their tentative truce. Even now, it was like walking on egg shells around him.

"What did Grace show you before I came out?
You mentioned something about her not being able to make me do something."

The question surprised her. She had wondered how much he had overheard. It seemed he had been out there longer than she had thought.

"Oh that ... "

She recalled.

"She was the one who made me fall in the lake. But it was her way of getting us together ... to speak to one another ... "

She clarified.

" ... but seems we messed that up again and I was telling her that even she couldn't make you trust me or talk to me.. "

She chuckled finding a fondness for the dead woman she seemed to have a link with.

"I hope to God she believed me. I sure don't fancy ending up in the lake every time you get annoyed with me. Like you said, I'd have to come calling dressed in a wetsuit..."

Sarah hadn't heard or seen Grace since she entered the house, but she looked up then, turning her head to the corridor and listening.

".. typical, she thinks that's funny too!"

Despite himself he had to smile at her remark,

"No use arguing the fact, I did lock myself in here and drank myself to sleep."

Her remark about the wetsuit did make him chuckle, it was quite an interesting thought, the good doctor flapping onto the porch with scuba fins, he was surprised that Grace still lingered without showing herself.

"I think you both have a point, but there is one point that can be worked on and that is yours. We get to talk every now and then between our pointed remarks..."

He held up a hand,

"I'll admit I'm the main antanogist in that. Trust...well I trust you enough to let you into my home, that does count as a form on trust doesn't it?"

He smiled,

"I will advise you to bring an aqualung with you though, Grace can misunderstand situations a little bit. Especially around me, I had to explain scenes in my book to her for long hours, just because a single sentence made her think otherwise."

He finished his coffee and set the cup aside,

"Now where is that wet clothing of your's? I did promise to dry them for you."

"No use arguing the fact, I did lock myself in here and drank myself to sleep."

Sarah smiled, but refrained from comment as she enjoyed her coffee.

"I think you both have a point, but there is one point that can be worked on and that is yours. We get to talk every now and then between our pointed remarks..."

She smiled ruefully. They definitely hadn't seemed to get on.

"I'll admit I'm the main antanogist in that. Trust...well I trust you enough to let you into my home, that does count as a form on trust doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"It does and if I'm being totally honest, I think you've been very tolerant given your circumstances and what I suppose you saw as an invasion into your privacy."

She paused to consider it from his point of view.

"Sometimes no matter how much another person is worried about you or wants to offer you what they think is the best advice, it really is none of their business."

She conceded.

"I will advise you to bring an aqualung with you though, Grace can misunderstand situations a little bit. Especially around me, I had to explain scenes in my book to her for long hours, just because a single sentence made her think otherwise."

She nodded.

"She seems a feisty lady,"

She agreed laughing at his story.

"Now where is that wet clothing of your's? I did promise to dry them for you."

She put down her own now empty cup.

"I dumped them in the bath so they didn't drip lake water all over your bathroom."

She looked down at the clothes he had loaned her.

"If you prefer I could borrow these clothes and then just dump mine in a carrier bag to launder when I get back, though of course, I'm not sure if Grace would approve of my driving away in her things..."

She mused thinking about Johnathan's latest comment about his wife.

"You do know she seems drawn to the study, don't you?"

She asked him daring to open that sensitive subject.

He nodded,

"Both to be honest, she always wore this very alluring perfume, during my more sober moments I seemed to smell faint traces of that perfume."

He sighed and leaned back into his chair,

"But what would it mean? Would she try to draw me from where I usually were to where she would want me to be? To be honest without any definate ideas we'll just shoot ideas into the dark like tracers, hoping to start a brush fire."

He glanced over her form,

"Not so sure that she would not mind about the clothing though, you do fit very well into them."

It was almost like he realized what he had said only then, he hauled himself to his feet,

"I'll go pop your clothing into the machine, would you like another cup of coffee?"