EXCERPT: Ghost in the White House, by Christopher T. Moss

The following is from "Ghosts in the White House" by Christopher "Kit" Moss. You can read it in its entirety in our current issue of Wilde Oats.

The ball was still well underway when the President managed to slip out. He hurried away knowing that if she caught him leaving, Harriet would come after him. He thought he would fall asleep the moment his head touched the pillows in that big canopied bed. He hoped he would dream, dream not of Nikolai but of Rufus, the love of his life.

But instead he lay on his accustomed side of the bed, this time in the Presidential quarters of the White House exhausted but far too keyed up to sleep. He had heard the clock chime the three o'clock hour, knowing that morning was both too long and too short a time for his weary mind and body. He congratulated himself on his promise, in his inauguration speech, not to run for a second term. He did not think he could take another day like the past one.

"Ah, Rufus," Buchanan sighed aloud. He patted the counterpane next to him. "I don't imagine they would have let us share this bed. But I still miss you and wish you were here."

As he lay on his back with his hands folded prayerfully on his chest he thought he felt the edge of the bed sink under some pressure.

"But Jamie, I am here."

James stiffened. He dared not turn his head toward the familiar drawl. "Rufus?" he croaked.