by Becki Willis
No, staying had been her choice. Taking on the challenge of running the historic property was her decision. Her career choice.
At exactly two forty-seven, Hannah had the auspicious honor of checking in her very first guest. Del Hatfield’s fateful overnight stay several weeks ago didn’t count. This one was legitimate, and it was the first of what she hoped would be many more to come.
At the very least, there would be five more that evening, with still more the next day. All seven rooms in the inn were booked, and both cabins. The third cabin would be completed soon, just in time for the busy July Fourth weekend.
As the Elliott family tromped outside to the Anheim Cabin, escorted by the inn’s exuberant Great Pyrenees, Hannah turned to Fred. “Now what do we do?”
“What do you mean, dear?”
“Is that it? We just hand them their key and leave them to it?”
“Pretty much,” the older woman smiled. “This is their vacation, dear. We’re a part of it, and yet we aren’t.”
Hannah propped her chin into her hands and sulked. “What a letdown. After all the excitement of watching them drive up, listening to the kids ask a hundred questions and recall every single thing they ever did here in the past, listening to Mrs. Elliott go on and on about the improvements we made, checking in my very first guest—without a single glitch, I might add—and the drumroll in my head as I handed over that first key, just sitting here now, doing nothing, is a bummer.”
Fred patted her shoulder and laughed. “Hang on to that thought. I promise you, not all check-ins go this smoothly. And remember, the next several guests are staying in the house. You’ll be amazed at how full—and loud—the inn will be once they all get here.” She started to walk away, but turned to add, “Oh, and there’s a reason I suggested the Elliotts stay in the cabin. I, too, remember all the things those children did.”
Hannah spent the next ten minutes feeling very innkeeper-ly. She checked the reservation book, congratulated herself on a successful first mission, and committed the names of their upcoming guests to memory.
She had this nailed.
Once all the guests checked in, she would go down to the show and nail phase two of opening night. Why had she been so worried? Things were zipping right along, just as planned.
Hannah grabbed a stack of brochures to carry into the inner office. She planned to take them with her tonight when she worked the gate, handing them out to prospective guests.
As she entered the office, a sound drew her attention. It was more of a guttural snort than an actual word. Hannah glanced up, saw the woman standing in the middle of the room, and promptly threw the brochures into the air. A cry of surprise squeaked from her, much like when she slipped on the lettuce.
The woman wore little more than rags. Layers upon layers of rags, from head to toe. Upon second glance, Hannah realized that some of the rags had fur. One boasted a long, shaggy tail. Another had a black pointed nose, narrow-set eyes, and sharp tips for ears. Fox fur, she thought with a cringe, its face still intact. She had the impression of feathers and beads, strips of leather, and coarsely woven cloth, although she couldn’t say for certain. The image was blurred, as if projected onto the furnishings in the room.
This must be Gouyen, the Native American medicine woman. The elusive third ghost who inhabited the inn.
It was disconcerting enough, simply seeing a ghost. It didn’t help that this one stood directly in Hannah’s path, arms crossed, and feet planted in a determined stance. The expression on her leathery face was stoic, making it impossible to judge her friendliness.
Yet she had appeared before Hannah, so that had to account for something. Choosing to see it as a positive sign, Hannah gathered her courage and attempted to connect with the spirit. It took two tries of swallowing her fear before her voice came out. “Hello. I—I’m sorry I screamed. You startled me.”
Another grunt.
Great conversation we have going. I babble, you grunt.
Biting on her lip, Hannah tried again. She touched a hand to her chest. “I’m Hannah.”
The reply sounded nothing like a name. It sounded more like the poor woman was constipated.
“Can—Can I help you?”
In response, the ghost extended her arm toward Hannah. Hannah’s first inclination was to shrink away, until she realized the woman seemed to be handing her something. Her fingers curled, as if holding an invisible object.
“I… don’t understand,” Hannah said.
The woman grunted again and shook her arm, insisting Hannah take the offering.
Far be it from me to insult a ghost. Legs trembling, Hannah took a few hesitant steps forward, reaching out and pretending to accept the unseen item. As her hand crossed the plane where Gouyen’s image had been, the apparition faded.
“Hello?” Confused by her sudden disappearance, Hannah looked around the room. “Are you still here? Hello?”
Moments before, a distinct chill had penetrated the room. The temperature felt normal now, leading Hannah to believe the spirit was no longer present.
Oh, well. It could have gone worse, she decided.
She spotted something in the floor where Gouyen had stood. Retrieving it, she stared in surprise at the small leather pouch. It looked old and worn and was tied together with a thin string of rawhide. She turned the item over in her hands, wondering where it had come from. But when she lifted the pouch to her nose and sniffed, she knew exactly who had left it.
Gouyen. It held her scent.
At the time, Hannah hadn’t consciously acknowledged the unique smell. There had been too many other things to process, her own fear being one of them. But one whiff of the pouch, and she realized she had smelled this same scent earlier. Subconsciously, a thought had flashed through her mind, wondering if she tracked in dirt on her feet. It wasn’t an unpleasant odor, but it reminded Hannah of tromping through wet leaves and damp earth on a cloudy autumn day.
Had this been what Gouyen was trying to give her? She knew that only the most powerful of spirits were capable of moving physical objects, and that it took a great deal of energy to do so. Did Gouyen expend all her energy, leaving this gift for her? Was that why she faded so quickly?
And why, Hannah wondered, had she left her a gift in the first place? The stoic old spirit hadn’t seemed the type for housewarming presents.
“Hannah?” Sadie said, passing by the office and seeing her there. “Why are there papers all over the floor? What’s that in your hand?”
“I’m not sure.” Hannah held the pouch out to her friend.
“Where did you get this?” Sadie asked, turning it over for closer inspection. “This looks like an old Indian medicine bag.”
“Medicine bag?”
The older woman nodded. “Sometimes they held healing herbs, sometimes amulets to ward off evil spirits. See the tiny little beads sewn in? They’re black, so I’d say this was meant to deflect evil.” She handed the bag back, asking, “Do they sell these in the show? Because I can tell you, that’s the best imitation I’ve ever seen. That almost looks authentic.”
“It is authentic.”
“What do you mean?”
Hannah took a deep breath, speaking through the sigh. “I think I just met Gouyen. She left this for me.”
A gasp escaped the older woman. “You can’t be serious! In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve only seen her twice.”
Hannah described the woman she had seen and their strange encounter.
“That definitely sounds like Gouyen,” Sadie agreed. “But why would she feel the need to leave you a medicine bag, especially one to ward off evil spirits?”
“Maybe she wanted to wish me well?” Hannah suggested, her hopeful tone clearly fabricated. “Keep me safe from crazy guests?” They both knew she was reaching.
Sadie looked at her in silent reprimand. “I don’t think this is a housewarming present, dear.”
“I don’t, either,” Hannah admitted. A sense of dread lodge
d itself in her stomach. “Which can only mean one thing.”
Sadie nodded in solemn agreement. “She’s trying to protect you from the evil that’s already present.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gates opened an hour and a half before the show. This allowed the crowd time to stroll through the carnival games, get in the spirit of the evening, and to indulge in their favorite treats and eats. As dusk moved in, strings of colorful lights and the twinkle of carnival tunes gave the evening a festive feel. The air was sweet and fragrant with the mingled aromas of popcorn, cotton candy, and fried everything, as Walker put it.
With all but one of the guests checked in at the inn—Sadie would stay behind to hold down the fort—Hannah was able to experience both opening day events to the fullest. After fulfilling hostess duties at the inn, she hurried to the show site, and was there to greet the first person through the turnstile.
“Holy boomtown, there’s a lot of people already here!” she told Pierce, who manned the gates with her. “I didn’t realize so many people would come out early for the carnival. I’ve tried counting, but I lost track with that last carload of teenagers.”
“That’s what the turnstile is for,” he reminded her. “And you’re definitely your uncle’s niece. He’s the only other person I’ve ever heard use that phrase.”
“He made it up years ago. Don’t make the mistake of asking him why,” she suggested, with a look of mock horror. “It’s a long and convoluted story.”
“Hand me some of your brochures, and I’ll pass them out, too,” he offered.
Hannah turned to grab the extra stack from her bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Guy and John Boy in a heated conversation.
“What’s that about?” she asked, nodding toward the men. “They don’t look very happy.”
“Guy’s a bit of a hothead. And John Boy likes to boss everyone around, so it’s not a good combination.”
“I imagine it’s hard, being on the road so much, and living and working together in such close quarters. I imagine tempers can run high at times,” Hannah commiserated.
“Guy didn’t like them replacing Rusty with an outsider. He thought his brother would get the job.”
“Surely, he realizes Shelton is only temporary.”
“That’s how I started out,” Pierce said with a grin. “I was hired as a temporary two years ago, and I’m still here. Much to John Boy’s dismay, I might add.”
That could explain the other heated discussion she had witnessed, when the manager stalked off in anger. That was just prior to the heated kiss she saw.
“Holy boomtown, there’s a lot going on around here,” she muttered under her breath. Maybe she should get a scorecard to keep track of it all.
“You don’t know the half of it.” Pierce chuckled, obviously hearing her remark.
After greeting a family of four and two teenage girls who made googly eyes at Pierce, Hannah asked him to explain his comment.
“For starters, Daphne is John Boy’s ex. John Boy is now involved with Talia, although they like to think no one knows, particularly Jazz and Petro. He’s Talia’s father, by the way, and roughly the same age as John Boy. Rusty couldn’t stand Daphne, but Guy, his best friend and roommate, is crazy over her. That’s what half their arguments were about. Daphne, however, keeps making passes at me, even though I keep telling her I’m not interested.”
“Yeah, I think I may know where your interests lie,” Hannah teased.
He made no comment as another family moved through the line. When time allowed, he offered a few more examples of the drama unfolding behind the scenes. Some of the stories were funny, some of them little more than idle gossip. As show time approached and the crowd grew heavier, there was no more time for small talk.
It appeared Hannah had worried for nothing. They had a sell-out crowd, well before the show started. She stayed at the gate to make pre-sales for the next day and to chat with the disappointed people she had to turn away, while Pierce disappeared to prep for his first skit.
As she closed the gates and tucked the moneybox into her bag for safekeeping, Hannah thought about some of the tales Pierce told. She wondered if John Boy was as domineering as he sounded, or if Pierce’s account of the manager was jaded. It sounded to her like John Boy was particularly hard on Rusty. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for the deceased man. With his boss and his so-called best friend always upset with him, it was no wonder he was so grumpy. In truth, it sounded like he didn’t get along well with any of the crew.
Could any of them, she wondered, have wanted him dead? It was a silly thought, she knew. The sheriff’s office had ruled it a natural death. There was no reason to borrow trouble and imagine his death to be something more than a heart attack. Obviously, the gift from Gouyen had her spooked. And who knew? Sadie’s assumption that it was intended to ward off evil spirits might be completely off track.
But as her hand brushed against the small leather pouch nestled in her purse, a chill moved through Hannah’s shoulders.
Sadie, she knew, was seldom wrong.
Hannah squeezed into a seat in the bleachers and settled in for the show. For the hundredth time, she wished that Walker was there beside her, but his text said he was delayed. There was the possibility he would stay overnight, but he promised to be home the next day.
Determined to enjoy the show, Hannah shared the crowd’s excitement as the overhead lights dimmed and the spotlight moved to the stage in front of the ‘town.’ The first skit had the crowd roaring with laughter. The dog act was next, winning over the hearts of the audience and amusing them with the hound dog who thought he was a Dachshund. The pace slowed for Ted’s mournful solo, but soon picked up again with the next comedy skit. Hannah was impressed with how smoothly the cast moved from one segment to the next.
Pierce Maldonado, she soon discovered, was an exceptional showman. He charmed the crowd with little more than his smile and a few witty lines. With Talia as his assistant, he asked for participation from the audience. Dozens of hands shot up from the engaged fans, but he finally chose two men from opposites sides of the stands. One was tall and thin, wearing shorts and sandals on the warm Texas evening. The other was shorter, wearing jeans and boots, not to mention a priest’s collar with his black jacket.
They invited the men down to the stage and started their bit. Halfway through, a llama strutted across the stage, interrupting their scene. All eyes turned to the llama and the man chasing it. “Petro” Petrosian was decked out in full cowboy attire and a pair of very thick glasses, shouting in heavily accented English about his ‘horse’ that got away. Once again, the crowd roared at the hilarious antics of the actors.
When the near-sighted cowboy finally climbed into the saddle and rode his ‘horse’ off stage, Pierce and Talia turned back to their guests. The tall man now wore a pair of baggy jeans that struck well above his sandaled feet, and the other man wore khaki shorts with his cowboy boots and priest collar. The audience ate it up, and Hannah beamed with pride. Bringing Hats Off to town had been a wise move on her part.
The gunfight took place just before the twenty-minute intermission. When the stage turned to face the rodeo arena, the second half of the show began. This half was more about drawing oohs and ahhs than it was about laughter. The crowd stayed thoroughly engaged, impressed with one daring feat after another. Even the barrel racing had a twist; the contestants rode backwards, or with their horses blindfolded. Daphne did a brilliant balancing act on the high wire, and Talia delighted the crowd with her blazing batons.
Two lighthearted routines broke the tension of the second half of the show. Kids from the stands came down to herd and rope the fluffy sheep running willy-nilly around the pen. The crowd loved the playful interaction between them, and all participants won ribbons and extra tokens for the carnival games.
The other routine involved a chuck wagon race. After an exaggerated bet between the participants, three wagons raced around the perimeter. When the dust c
leared and the winner announced, even Hannah wondered when and how the drivers had switched wagons. The audience was still chuckling when the final act began, but as Jazz rode out into the arena, a hush fell upon the crowd. She wore a dazzling outfit that twinkled in the spotlight, assuring that all eyes were upon her as she went through her paces.
There was no doubt she was a skilled rider. She made even the most difficult tricks look easy. She stood atop the horse’s back and danced a jig, as the stead carried her out of the ring and Pierce took her place in the spotlight. While he did his own series of impressive stunts, Hannah swore she could hear women swooning in the stands.
But the real magic happened when Jazz returned to the arena and they performed their stunts as a duet. Jazz was dressed all in white. Pierce wore all black. She was dainty and elegant. He was strong and graceful. Together, they were the perfect pair. It was like a ballet on horseback, and by the time the spotlight dimmed and the music faded, the crowd was on their feet.
Hannah cheered as loudly as the people around her did. The show was brilliant. Her heart thudded in excitement, and dollar signs swam before her eyes. After tonight’s performance, she had no doubt that the rest of the weekend would be a sell-out.
She only wished Walker were there with her to celebrate.
Hannah wanted to stay and congratulate Jazz for a job brilliantly done, but she had been gone from the inn long enough. She slipped through the crowd and made her way out the gate, noting all the smiling faces and enthusiastic responses around her. The majority of the people headed to the carnival games to try their hand at luck, or to the food trucks to sample their favorite treat. Per their agreement, Hats Off kept all proceeds from the trailers. If they met a certain threshold, they applied a percentage of sales toward the booking fee. There was no way to monitor sales from the trailers—unlike at the gate, where the turnstile kept an accurate count—but Hannah had no reason to believe that Hats Off would be anything less than honest. So far, she was wonderfully impressed.
