The white dense mist smothering the early hours of the day had nearly dissolved, leaving the mid-morning sun to burn off what little haze remained left. The last frost of the season had come and left a few weeks before and now the renewal of nature’s cycle could not be halted. Sprouts of wild lily of the valley had taken their chances, venturing through the half-frozen ground before the last of the snowfall had even melted. The early signs of Spring were blossoming.

Julia Hoffman, with no concerns to the burly thistles and thorns that clung to the legs of her khaki cotton pants, continued to struggle with the obstacle before her. Only a small section remained visible to the naked eye. The years that filled the passing centuries had build up around it and now its size was left unpredicted to what laid underneath. No one could not deny the determination this woman had and a simple rock that stood in the way of her purpose was as much a challenge to her as the man that stood a few yards behind her.

The suede leather work gloves that protected her hands continued to probe into the moist soil to find the best grip. The seams of their fingertips dug further under the rough edge until, with a sound resembling a muffled groan, she gave up. She fell back on her bottom with a sudden jolt -- a curse heard mumbled as she hit the ground.

Barnabas Collins, with a plea in his voice and desperation in his eyes, had talked her into this. His were the only ones she could not resist. At least, this time, it wasn’t a life-threatening ordeal or an asking that stretched her own principles further than their limits. It was beyond that -- a silent plea for something else that even he really could not identify. Perhaps it was just to continue to have the possibilities ahead of him to look forward to. Life has its own way of providing answers.

She, herself, had felt the same. A restlessness had spawn within her that came with the Spring. She could not pinpoint its exact origins, but knew the reason for part of it. Since returning from their altering sojourn in 1840, nothing had really changed between them that gave her the hope worth staying for. Each day continued to be as the last and she began to sense the time had arrived to move on with her life without Barnabas by her side. Twice she had the occasion to bring to his attention the need she felt to return to the fulfillment she once had in her duties at Wyndecliffe. There was no reason to prolong her stay here at Collinwood. But, after each of her admissions, she saw something in his eyes she had seen before when deserving of its presence. Was it panic? But why now? She could not give herself the satisfaction that perhaps it was more for her hopes to cling to. Yet, shortly afterwards, before she had the time to make her arrangements to leave, he would approach her once more with a request she could not deny. She was only fooling herself. Would she ever be able to gain the courage to leave him?

The warmer days had given him reason to escape the confines of the gloomy mansion and enjoy the warmth the sun could provide. The gardens surrounding the Old House had remained vacant of beauty for generations, allowing only the presence of unwanted weeds and thorny tangles to flourish -- their growth tall enough to reach the windows. Now he had found the time and energy to add the beauty once more to the outside of the brick Colonial and restore the gardens that had once adorned its exterior.

She, herself, could not prescribe any better medicine for him than the natural healing powers the earth could provide. And so -- with a slight hesitation -- she found her services thrown into the role of a gardener. Her own connection with the earth and nature had been limited to the countless walks on the wooded pathway between Collinwood and the Old House. The extra time that never remained enough in one’s life was just not there. Any hobby that her life had allowed time for was limited to just a few seconds a day for a quick sprinkle of flakes to the tropical fish that swam in an aquarium. Before Barnabas, her career had been her life.

The wheels of her mind began the process of motion to tackle the problem that laid in front of her. A sharp-nose spade laid against the ground beside her as the simple idea quickly came to her. She raised herself up, brushing the debris that had adhered to her backside -- her action noticed by another.

The crushed seashells, used as pavement, filled the space between the timbers outlining the pathway that led in a downward slope to the drive. The heels of his boots sunk into the bleached white pieces as he stood watching in awe and pleasure at what captured his attention.

She had stretched the bounds of a woman’s world, yet now worked on her hands and knees with the soil of the earth. There were no cares or worries as to how dirty she became nor seemed bothered by the perspiration that trickled in small beads down her face.

The straw hat she had worn in their daily routine to veil her fair skin had not offered her face complete protection from the sun’s harmful rays. She did not tan as his own skin could. On her face were patches of strawberries as if a rash had covered her skin in blotches. It was just another feature of a redheaded woman he found intriguing as a trace of amusement crossed his face.

His mouth quirked into a smile. Could he call the warm sensation rising within him -- fast enough to take his next breath away -- DESIRE? No, certainly not! This was Julia, his best friend. An equal, at times, until his masculine pride would challenge his ego, demanding her to resign to his commands. Was that how he had drug her into this latest endeavor? Had he again forced her unwillingly into something that perhaps she had not wanted?

His eyes remained too long, admiring the woman before him, as she caught those eyes lingering longer than one should for a friend. At least the blush that spread rapidly across his cheeks was camouflaged by the same color that came from his hard labor.

A grin she tried to hide from her delight only brightened the satisfaction in her eyes. A woman always knew that look that came from a man....knew what hid behind it. Perhaps, she thought, it might be worth staying after all.

Julia reluctantly turned her attention away from the tempting challenge of the man standing in front of her and returned to the one that was at her feet. With an audacious confidence that he recognized the first time he met her, she gripped the wooden handle of the spade and slid the sharp edge of metal under the granite, its surface half covered with moss. Teetering her weight on the other end, she forced what laid hidden beneath to the surface. Actually, the size itself was not what hindered its release -- only the layers of ground that had packed its entombment over the years. With a grueling hoist to the handle, the dull gray stone finally complied to her wishes.

A wide smile of triumphant lit up her face. How many times in the last few years could she actually take a single minute to enjoy the satisfaction of her accomplishments? There was always something else tugging at her sleeve demanding her attention. So, for once, she took the opportunity to stand back and relish that moment of achievement as the tightening of the breaths she took cramped her ribcage.

Taking a few minutes to catch her second wind, she returned to finish the task in front of her. With both hands, she lifted the cold slab of granite with precaution, shifting the strain away from her lower back. Barnabas remained to the side. The years between them had brought an understanding of the other’s pride. She was not a woman to admit the slightest weakness in the capabilities of a woman’s body. He wisely held back his nature to assist the weaker sex. If she needed help, he knew she would ask.

"Barnabas! Look at this!"

She reached down into the impression dented into the moist soil, as if preserved in plaster of paris, then scooped her discovery out of the caked dirt. The soils of the coastline were sandy, in contrast to the rich loams of the northern regions or the clay soils covering much of the lowlands.

It was not of natural beginnings, but obviously -- even at first glance -- an object made from human hands. Small curved legs held the rectangular frame, cross-weaved with threads of gold. Carefully hammered patterns imprinted along the top edge could still be seen. No matter how many years had passed, gold could never hide its identity. Though besoiled with sand and mud that filled the hollows between its fragile weave, the precious metal was still easily recognizable. Whatever it held within its splendid grasp no longer remained, leaving only its mystery to the one who found it.

"What is it, Barnabas? Do you have any idea?"

Stumpy brush of shadbush and bittersweet remained low to the ground from the weight of the snow during the last few months. His long legs took less steps as they stretched across the piles of tangled vegetation to reach her.

"I can’t believe it! After all these years..."

"What? Tell me, Barnabas! Do you know what it is?"

She handed over her buried treasure as he turned it upside down, shaking off the sandy soil to reveal more of what was hidden underneath.

"It’s a music box, Julia. Or...what remains of one."

"A music box? This?"

"Yes...I’m sure of it. The wooden box itself has deteriorated, but I can still recognize its pedestal." He turned it around in his hands studying it carefully before adding, to her surprise, "It was my mother’s".

"Your mother’s?"

He nodded.

"But how could something so valuable get here?" she asked as she looked down at his hands as he inspected her discovery.

"I don’t know....unless...." He paused as the most logical of answers dawned. "Of course! Sarah! It had to be her."

Julia raised her head as she looked at him with disbelief. His little sister had not been a complete stranger to herself and the fascination she held for the sibling of the man she loved still remained strong.

"Barnabas....what does Sarah have to do with this?"

"More than you actually know, Julia." There was a sadness that came with his slow-spoken words as his mind moved back to his own past. But then, anything that had to do with Sarah brought the same feeling.

"Here....put it back, Julia," he said as he returned the golden frame to her. "Let it continue to find peace where it has remained hidden all these years. Let it remain buried as Sarah wished."

His voice was firm and she knew by his dangerous tone it would be fruitless to sway his mind. He had his reasons and though it did not make sense to her, it was not worth the effort to try. She placed it back under the standing stone....along with its secrets.

**********

A day’s hard labor usually brought a satisfaction to himself, although he felt a few familiar aches and pains that tightened his muscles. Unlike the gentlemen’s life he had lead, he had the hands for heavy work. They were large, even for his stature. His fingers were long -- but not fine -- strong and thick to be able to grasp sturdy the tools of a worker. An observer in his own era would have claimed his hands reflected the image of a true farmer, except for the absence of blisters and calluses. But now -- as they remained knitted, propped under his chin, enjoying the evening’s comfort of his chair and her company -- they were once more aristocratic in elegance.

He remained silent as his mind drifted to thoughts he had tried to resist without much success. He had worked all day trying to forget about Sarah and the music box....trying to dismiss the feeling that consumed him and taunted him as he thought of the enchanting picture of Julia as she crept through the tangled old garden with a charm of her own. The mood between them had been too reserved since and he felt that she also had more on her mind than she wished to tell. Eventually, he grew tired of the struggle within him and finally confronted the silence that had lingered between them since the early part of the day.

"Julia....I owe you an apology for my behavior today."

She took a sip from the fragile teacup cradled in her hands as her eyes looked up, accompanied by a smile.

"Your apology is accepted, Barnabas. Finding your Mother’s music box I know had to be upsetting for you."

"Actually...Julia...what you saw today was only the frame itself. Inside laid a box made of carved mahogany....its own high luster glistening with the gold that held it. It had been a present to my Mother from my Father before they had wed. It was a beautiful work of Swiss craftsmanship....as lovely as my Mother’s own beauty."

He found himself glancing back to moments so deeply imbedded that they were still tormentingly real as ever.

"I remember well the many days she would hide behind her bedroom door listening to its lovely notes tinkering...music that only brought her tears from a time my parents no longer shared. Sarah hated those moments when Mother would close herself off away from us."

He paused as he thought of the child that never had the opportunity to reach adulthood; who’s death had taken a part of his heart with her. "Poor little Sarah....she never understood the reason why, only that the music box brought our Mother sorrow."

His brows raised up as his shoulders shrugged, his tone lightening. "One day, it simply disappeared. I assumed either Mother had misplaced it when she was too incoherent to recall or perhaps a servant had...."

"Well," he said with a sigh, "now....after all these years, I find the answer to the mystery."

"And you believe that Sarah was the one responsible for its disappearance?"

"In all likelihood....yes, I do." He took a deep breath that lifted his chest before he continued. "You see, Julia...I have not carried just one curse in my lifetime. It is not meant to be for a Collins to find love and preserve it. My parents own marriage proved that to me. My days are meant to be spent a bachelor....probably for the best."

"Coward," she said with a quiet emphasis.

Her accusation startled him as he twisted sharply in his chair. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me, Barnabas," she flung back to him, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. The muscles had, by now, tensed in her jaw with a tight look. She deplored such reasoning.

"You cannot seal your own fate just because of your parents’ mistakes, Barnabas!"

"Can’t I?" He gave her a short laugh as he settled snugly against the back of the Queen Anne. "In all justification, Julia, may I remind you of the present day Collins family? Elizabeth and Roger’s own attempts towards the state of matrimony have not been what you consider successful."

"I’m sorry, Julia," he spoke as he shook his head. "I do not wish to follow my parents’ footsteps. We, Collins, are not the best choice for marriage."

She waited until he had finished, then seized on his response with a challenge.

"Barnabas! For a marriage to work....to be solid....it needs constant care. Just as the garden we are tending to now. I agree, it does not come easily for many. Hard work is required to make it succeed and last."

She placed the teacup on the table beside her, then grasped the arms of the chair that matched his own as she rose to her feet. With a few slow steps she walked towards the fireplace, as she lowered her gaze to study the flames contained in its hearth.

"A marriage has to be built from more than just the initial attraction shared in the beginning. There needs to be devotion...a commitment to each other in good AND bad times. A trust needs to be developed and maintained that gives the security to the other that -- no matter what happens -- you can always depend on the other for support and love."

As she looked off into the empty space of the room, a sudden realization struck her that made her heart pound out of control -- in a way, she was defining their own relationship. And the shock of her revelation made the words slip easily from her lips.

"Actually....very similar to what you and I share...."

Astonished -- even to herself -- at her sudden acknowledgment, Julia turned in his direction as she noticed the strange look cross over his face. The butterflies in her stomach kept the surge of adrenaline pumping. She had no intention of retreating now. The first step had been taken and there was no turning back. Before she lost her newfound courage, she quickly approached him.

Standing before him, she lowered herself as her hands came to rest on his knees. It was the best way to keep him cornered. His strict rules of conduct would never attempt to make her lose her balance if he should abruptly stand to escape from what she intended to say. A new sense of excitement was expressed in her voice.

"Show your family....show yourself, Barnabas, that you can prove your belief wrong!"

His head lowered down as he felt her weight begin to shift more onto his legs as she leaned forward. He could not ignore the tips of her fingers tightening into his skin with the intensity of her words.

With a look of sincere puzzlement, he replied. "My dear Julia! May I ask....how do you intend for me to prove otherwise?"

She looked down, away from his own piercing stare, as she prepared her thoughts.

"I would never have even thought of asking this until today....but I have eyes too, Barnabas," she said softly.

Her eyes then shifted up to meet his and there was a sudden resoluteness on her face -- of a person who felt relief that a pretense was no longer needed to be kept up.

"I saw you watching me this afternoon....outside in the garden. And what I saw in your eyes was desire."

Barnabas’ eyebrows rose, alarmed at the turn their evening was taking. Was it possible, he thought, as he tried to reach back and retrieve that feeling she just spoke of? But the effort was not necessary. The sudden intimacy between them stirred those same intense feelings and only his self-control kept him from reaching out for what he wanted -- body and soul.

"Marry me, Barnabas!"

The words came out quickly, filling the air. She stopped -- half holding her breath with the danger of making a fool of herself. But, surprisingly, he glared down at her -- not as if she were half mad -- but surprised she had marched in and seized her chance to prove him wrong.

There was a hush from every creak and moan the Old House made. Their eyes watched the movement of the others, waiting for one to speak and break the silence that lingered.

"Julia!" he said with some difficulty, as he tried to find his words. "I....I don’t know what to say!"

Her eyes were wide with sudden confidence as she shook his knees with a jolt. "Say yes, Barnabas! Take the challenge! I know the anxieties you carry within you, but let me see you through them as I always have. Barnabas...we have between us what it takes to succeed. Why go through life only regretting what we didn’t have the courage to reach out and grasp?"

Barnabas glanced back at her -- not with a look of protest -- but with a look that maybe...somehow...he could believe her. The revealing truth in her words gave him a hope that maybe it was worth taking the risk. His own unrealism had clouded his judgment in the past, causing him nothing but pain and disappointment. He relied on her insight and wisdom more than he ever cared to admit. What was between them felt comfortable and right for so long, he had never taken the time to think what hid behind it -- only that they were always there by each other’s side. Now, he understood there was a simple reason for it -- the fortitude of the love they had built together.

"The challenge you propose could very well take a lifetime to prove," he countered with a twinkle in his eye. There was a hint of certainty in his tone that held not only hope, but the warmth of his love.

Julia tilted her head slightly back, her chin jutting.

"I intend for it to!" she replied with a guarantee.

Turning the palm of his hand up, he slowly reached out as his fingers traced the tip of her chin with a feathery touch. His eyes caught hers as she waited for his answer. There was no mist clouding the pathway in front of them. Their visibility was clear now to be able to focus ahead of what could be between them. And Barnabas knew, deep in his heart, she was right.

His smile -- warmer than the sun -- preceded his answer to the woman that held no doubts.

"In all consideration....I believe you could be right, my dearest. Together...we are strong enough to conquer anything!"

THE END