“The glen is usually crowded around this time because everybody wants to see the ghost horseman,” Katie was saying. “Legend has it this is the best time of the year for sightings. The day of the ride, I know a few places that aren’t as packed and generally, our horseman rides there, too. He tries to make a big circuit, so most everybody gets a chance to see him.”
“Sounds great,” Abby said as the server returned with her card and receipts. She signed and gathered her things to go.
Katie slid out of the booth and Abby followed her, trying to keep her gaze above Katie’s waist. She didn’t succeed.
She followed Katie to her vehicle, a gray SUV parked right in front and it dawned on Abby that this was the car she’d seen the evening before outside the historical society, and Katie must’ve been the driver who waved at Lu. Katie unlocked it with her key fob and went around to the driver’s side.
“So how’d you know I was at the pub?” Abby asked as she got in and buckled up.
“I didn’t. Guess I got lucky.” Katie flashed her another smile, put the SUV in reverse and backed out. The interior smelled faintly of vanilla. It had the comfortable, lived-in look of a vehicle that got a lot of use but was well cared for.
“Guess I did, too. After all, I’m getting a ride to the glen.”
“Totally my pleasure. Besides, the glen should be part of your research. That’s where Ichabod disappeared. Or so they say.” Katie accelerated as they hit the edge of town. “It hasn’t changed much out here. Some clearing on the edges of the main glen for houses, but other than that, the heart of it has been left pretty much alone for pedestrian traffic. The historical commission in town likes to preserve it, since it’s a great tourist attraction.”
“Has anybody thought to keep the horseman working year-round?”
“You mean as a regular attraction?”
“Yeah. Or even just a sometime and unpredictable attraction. Just randomly have someone ride around out here and drum up sightings and interest.”
“I think there was some discussion about that when I was in high school, but locals decided that was too much crazy for one haunted glen.”
Abby laughed.
“Ah. So you’re not always a serious scholar.” Katie’s voice was warm and layered, like a caress.
Another round of sparks zipped through Abby’s chest and stomach. Kind of embarrassing, to have a crush on someone she’d just met. “No, not always,” Abby said, and to her ears it sounded kind of prudish. “After all, I’m going out to run around in said haunted glen. At night.”
“Good point. I stand corrected.”
“So what topic are you working on?”
“Just finished my master’s last year. I’m actually looking for a topic for a dissertation. I’m interested in early feminist movements, and how those translated in local politics.”
“Then your history background serves you really well. Define early.”
“Eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, before 1850. I’d like to compare the political campaigns that women were involved in then with some of the more recent ones. Late twentieth century and early twenty-first.” She slowed down and turned right. “Because as we know, women were involved in politics, though they couldn’t vote.”
“True.” And Abby thought it was sexy, talking shop with Katie. That made her an even bigger geek, she supposed, but she didn’t care.
The SUV lurched a little on what was clearly a dirt road and Katie slowed down. “They do minimal maintenance out here. Local flavor and all.” Katie steered first left then right.
“How long has this road been here?” Abby hung onto the grab bar above the passenger window.
“As long as I can remember. I think it’s part of the original road through the glen. Lu will probably know.” She slowed down and pulled off to the right.
From the headlights, Abby saw thick forest lining either side of the road. Four other cars were parked there. Three were empty. The windows of the fourth were fogged up. Teenagers, no doubt. The area was probably a favorite make-out spot. And most likely, over the years, it had always been one.
The thought of making out made her flush because Katie was the person who popped into her head. “So is there actually a bridge?” Abby asked, since she wanted to stop thinking about kissing Katie.
“There was. Not out here, though. The one described in Irving’s story isn’t there anymore. But we can check out the replica in the cemetery. And there’s some scary but cool stuff that goes on there, too.”
“Great.”
Katie turned off the engine and looked at Abby. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I don’t know. There are inexplicable things in the world,” Abby said. “And people have been recording sightings and strange phenomena for centuries, so I think there could be something to the idea.”
“Most of the stuff people report in the glen is weird lights, weird sounds, and the horseman.” Katie took a mini flashlight out of the glove box, reaching across Abby to do so, which brought her very close.
Abby froze. She caught a whiff of Katie’s cologne. Crisp and subtle. Abby couldn’t put her finger on what the notes were, but she liked it. Katie straightened, turned the vehicle’s lights off, and got out. Without the car lights on, Abby realized how very dark this part of the world was. Not much light pollution, either, but if she looked back the way they had come, she could make out a faint glow from the town, hovering over the trees. She got out and shut the door and Katie locked the vehicle.
“If you get freaked out, we’ll come back, no problem,” Katie said. She turned on her flashlight and started walking up the road. “I’m pretty sure that a lot of the lights that people see up here are ghost hunter flashlights. Especially this time of year.” Her own flashlight’s narrow beam seemed to stab the hard-packed earth of the road underfoot.
Abby followed, glad she had her keychain flashlight with her. Just in case. “Do you believe in ghosts?” She matched her pace to Katie’s, which was more like a stroll, fortunately, because the road’s surface wasn’t completely smooth, and Katie’s flashlight didn’t pick up some of the potholes right away.
“I take the position you do. I’ve seen some strange things around here, but so much of it might be influenced by local lore that it could, in turn, be influencing me to see things that I otherwise wouldn’t. There. Just laid some psychology on you.”
“That’s something I think about, in terms of deconstructing folklore and its surrounding cultures. I mean, where do you draw a line between what’s history and what’s been spun into folklore? How much of a community’s culture is influenced by either?”
“I think both are useful for telling stories. And I can tell you really love this topic,” Katie added with a soft laugh.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. My inner geek.”
“Which I totally enjoy. Don’t apologize for it. And stop here.”
Abby felt Katie’s hand on her arm, gently pulling.
“This is a good spot to see the sky and into the heart of the glen, through the trees. You’ll no doubt see some ghost hunters in there, too, but who knows? Maybe there’ll be something else.” She turned her flashlight off.
They stood in the road and in the light of the rising moon, some of the trees on either side seemed to shift and move, like gnarled and twisted dancers. The hair on the back of Abby’s neck stood up. “Okay, I get why people think they see weird things out here.”
“Right? Your brain and your eyes mess with you, especially in light like this. Power of suggestion. Look through there—” Katie had her hand on Abby’s arm again. “Do you see anything?”
She kept her hand on Abby’s arm and Abby was sure the heat from Katie’s palm was searing her skin, even through her fleece. Flustered, she tried to focus on whatever Katie might be trying to get her to see. A flash of light between the trees made her s
tiffen. “I’m going to assume that’s a flashlight,” she said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“Probably. Hold on. Keep watching.”
The light flickered again, as if it was traveling between trees. A male voice floated in the night air, followed by laughter. Abby exhaled. “Flashlight.”
“Shh. Listen for a bit.”
Abby tried, but Katie’s hand was still on her arm and she suddenly wanted to grab her and pull her close.
“Do you hear anything?” Katie asked.
“You mean besides guys in the woods?”
“Yeah.”
Abby maintained silence between them for what seemed like a long time, concentrating so hard on her hearing that she eventually thought she heard her heart pounding in her ears. Maybe that was what people heard when they thought it was the horseman. It wasn’t hooves. It was their own fear, pounding in their ears from their heartbeats. Katie took her hand off Abby’s arm and the spot, where it had been, cooled abruptly, much to Abby’s disappointment.
“Too bad. Guess all you get is guys in the woods tonight,” Katie said, and she turned her flashlight back on.
“Well, there’s always Saturday.”
“You want some company on your folklore quest during the festivities?”
“Depends. Whose?” she teased, seeing what she could get away with.
Katie chuckled and Abby caught the flash of her teeth in the gloom. “Mine. I can drive again, but it’s best to leave cars outside the glen, so the horseman has room to maneuver and—”
“It’s a deal,” Abby said, and then she silently kicked herself for sounding overeager. On the other hand, so what? So, she thought Katie was interesting. And okay, really attractive. There was nothing wrong with spending time with an attractive woman on a research trip. Especially one who knew the collections like Katie did. Logical, right? Abby unsuccessfully tried to convince herself that her interest was purely pragmatic
“Come on,” Katie said. “There’s an old path up ahead that jags off this road. Whoever the horseman is on Saturday will use it. They always do. Some of the better ones have even ridden through the woods. When they do that, they burst out of the forest and scare the hell out of people walking around out here.”
“So he rides his horse through the trees? What about injuries?”
“Like I said, only the better ones do it. One of the best was three years ago and I’m pretty sure it was a woman.”
“There are women who ride as the horseman?” Abby moved a little closer to Katie and hoped it wasn’t obvious.
“Can’t say for sure, since nobody ever knows who the horsemen are year to year, but from what I’ve heard, there are a few over the years who’ve been women. Doesn’t matter, because it’s all about the illusion, after all.” Her arm brushed Abby’s but before Abby could move away to protect her hormones, Katie stopped.
“That’s the path, there to the left.”
Here, the trees seemed even closer to the road, branches entwined overhead, blocking the moonlight.
“Do you want to walk a little farther?” Katie asked.
“I think I hear something.” Abby stood, straining to pick up the sound she thought she heard over the sighing of the breeze and the creak of wood as tree branches rubbed across each other. Something rhythmic, like hoofbeats. And then it was louder, and Katie gripped Abby’s arm and pulled her closer as a figure appeared out of the darkness. And then another. Abby sagged against Katie when she realized there wasn’t a horse, just two guys running, their flashlight beams jerking like light sabers with their motions.
“Shit,” one guy said when he noticed Abby and Katie.
“What happened?” Abby asked and the guys stopped, breathing hard. In the glows from their flashlights Abby determined them to be high school age.
“Dude without a head,” one finally managed. “No horse. Just the dude.”
The other guy concurred and then Abby heard laughter and two more guys emerged from the forest, also with flashlights.
“You pussies,” one newcomer said to the first two guys. “Got you good.” Then he noticed Abby and Katie. “Hey,” he said hastily. “Careful out here, ladies. There’s a guy without a head.” His friend pulled his dark sweatshirt up over his head and walked around, moaning and waving his arms. Katie laughed and Abby, adrenaline spent, laughed, too.
“Assholes,” one of the guys who had been running muttered.
“Beware the legend,” said sweatshirt dude as they headed back down the road to where Katie had parked.
“Hey,” one called back. “You okay? Want to walk with us?”
“No, we’re good,” Katie answered. “Thanks.”
“Beware the legend,” the one guy yelled again, and Abby heard them all laugh.
“They’re not from around here,” Katie said, and at that moment, Abby realized that she was still leaning back against Katie, and that Katie had one arm around Abby’s waist.
“How do you know?” Abby tried to figure out how to extricate herself without making it obvious. But she also didn’t want to, and she wasn’t sure how to do that without making it obvious.
“I didn’t recognize them.” And Katie’s breath brushed Abby’s ear, sending a jolt of electricity along Abby’s nerves from her head to her thighs. She pushed away to hide the shudder of delight that rocketed through her, though she immediately missed the feel of Katie against her.
“Okay. Well. That was exciting,” Abby said.
“Completely.”
Flustered, Abby started walking back toward the car, thinking it was probably a bad idea to make a pass at a woman she barely knew, in a dark, creepy, and possibly haunted forest. But it was also kind of arousing. She swallowed and quickened her pace a little.
“So,” Katie said behind her. “How come you don’t go by Tabitha?”
She slowed down, glad for the change in subject. “Too hard to shorten.”
“Tab is cute.”
“But people tend to draw it out and make it Tabby, which I’m not a fan of. No offense to cats.”
Katie laughed. “You don’t need to shorten it, actually. It’s a pretty name.” Her arm brushed Abby’s, and Abby moved away just a little, willing herself not to succumb to her attraction, which was entirely too weird, since she’d just officially met Katie that morning.
“What about Katie? Is it short for something?”
“Do you think it is?”
Katie’s flashlight revealed her SUV, the only car remaining near the road.
Abby relaxed. “Yes.”
“You’re right. Care to take a guess?”
“You don’t strike me as a Katherine,” Abby said as she went around to the passenger side.
“Good. Because I’m not.” Katie unlocked the vehicle with her key fob, and Abby got into the passenger side. She was buckled up before Katie had settled herself, and Abby relaxed even more. The seatbelt felt like a barrier between them, and right now, she needed it.
“You’re not really a Kaitlyn, either.”
“Huh. That one’s not too bad.” Katie started the engine and backed onto the road. She expertly maneuvered the vehicle around.
“If there were a history of Russians in this area, I might guess Katiana.” She could see Katie as a Katya or Katiana.
“Now there’s one I like,” Katie said as she accelerated. “But no, neither side of my family is overtly Russian. There might’ve been a Russian or two somewhere in the family tree during the fur-trapping era, but they haven’t made it obvious. You’re close, though.”
Not close enough, Abby thought, and she bit her lip to keep from saying that aloud. “Okay, how about—” she stopped as it dawned on her. “Katrina?”
“Nailed it.”
“Seriously?”
“Mmm hmm. And yes, I’m named for Katrina van Ta
ssel. That’s my mom’s side of the family. And before you say it, I guess it is sort of strange, a Crane and a Van Tassel hanging out a couple hundred years after the fact. Though my last name is McClaren.”
Abby filed that information away. “I was actually going to say that it’s kind of cool. I mean, what are the odds?” The thought that a descendant of Katrina van Tassel was helping a descendant of Ichabod Crane uncover family history added another layer of weird to the night, but it felt somehow right, like this was how things were supposed to be.
“Fairly high, if you think about it. There are a lot of Van Tassels around here.”
“But not many Cranes. Maybe not any besides me. Not like we make it a habit to come to Sleepy Hollow.”
Katie turned onto the paved road and sped up. “Well, you should.”
“And have some crazy Hessian ghost run us out of town again?” She paused. “Maybe he thought Ichabod was spying for the British and it pissed him off.” Abby stole a glance at Katie and wondered what it would be like to reach over and take her baseball cap off then lean in and—
“Maybe Ichabod was a double agent,” Katie said. “Spying for America but acting like he was spying for the British. That would throw any Hessian off, dead or otherwise.”
Abby laughed.
“You should really do that more,” Katie said.
“What?”
“Laugh. It looks really good on you.”
Abby gripped the handle of the door hard enough to make her hand go numb. “Clearly, you don’t hang out with me enough to realize that I do, in fact, laugh quite a bit.”
“I’ll definitely work on that,” Katie said as she slowed down at the edge of town. She turned onto Main Street, and Abby hoped she meant what she said.
Katie pulled up in front of the bed and breakfast and took her cell out of her back pocket. “What’s your phone number?”
The Secret of Sleepy Hollow Page 4
