The Ghost of Christmas Secrets

by Anna J. McIntyre

  From what Danielle had once told her, the chocolate drop cookie recipe was passed down in the Boatman family. If overbaked, the cake-like cookies became dry and mediocre, yet if taken out of the oven at precisely the right moment, they were moist and irresistible, a fudgy bakery concoction smothered in homemade fudge frosting—nirvana for chocolate lovers.

  Marie wondered what Danielle would be baking today. She glanced at the clock and thought it odd Danielle had not come downstairs yet. The next moment she stood at Danielle’s bedroom door; it was ajar. Knocking was not an option. If she couldn’t move a glass dome from a cake plate, she certainly could not make a knocking sound.

  “Danielle!” Marie called out through the opening.

  From the bedroom came a meow. Marie, I’m in here.

  The next moment Marie stood beside Danielle’s bed, where Max lounged. By the looks of the bed, Danielle had made it after getting up that morning.

  “Is Danielle in the bathroom?” Marie asked the cat as she glanced toward the master bath.

  Max stared intently at Marie.

  Marie frowned. “What do you mean she’s been gone all night. Gone where?”

  The next moment the closet door opened, and Danielle stepped out. She wore pajama bottoms and an oversized T-shirt, her hair tousled as if she had just gotten out of bed. The moment she spied the elderly woman—or more accurately, ghost—standing by her bedside, she groaned.

  “Danielle Boatman! Did you spend the night with that man!” Marie snapped.

  “That man? You mean Walt?” Danielle couldn’t help but smile.

  “I know things have changed since I was a young woman, but Walt is your tenant, and if word gets around that you have allowed yourself to get so familiar with your tenant—”

  “He is not just a tenant,” Danielle said wearily, taking a seat at her dressing table.

  Marie moved to Danielle’s side and watched as the young woman began brushing her hair. “I understand you two have feelings for each other,” Marie said in a gentler tone. “And I suppose this explains the times I popped in during the mornings and found you gone with your bed already made.”

  Danielle set her brush on the dressing table and turned to Marie. “I’m going to tell you something. I want you to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Of course; what is it?”

  “Walt’s not my tenant. He’s my husband.”

  Marie’s eyes widened. She stumbled backwards until she reached the foot of the bed and then sat down. “You got married? When?”

  “The day after Memorial Day. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not yet.”

  “Lily knows, doesn’t she?”

  Danielle shook her head.

  “I don’t understand. Why the big secret?”

  “Because everyone would think I had lost my mind if I suddenly married someone who was virtually a stranger. A man who reportedly had amnesia, who had just lost his fiancée.”

  “Dear, I don’t think anyone considers Walt a stranger anymore. He’s been here for over seven months. Most people seem quite taken with him now.”

  “Not everyone. Your grandson can barely stand Walt. I swear, he thinks Walt’s trying to rip me off.”

  Marie shrugged and said, “I suppose my dear grandson imagines he sees a bit of himself in Walt, in that respect.”

  Danielle’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”

  Marie chuckled. “I love my grandson, and he has always been good to me. But, dear, I am not blind. I know he’s wasted a great deal of time looking for a fast buck, trying to work some angle. I know full well had it not been for my intervention, he would have fought tooth and nail to keep those gold coins, which he had no right to. I also know about the time he broke into Marlow House, looking for the Missing Thorndike.”

  “You do? How long have you known?”

  Marie let out a sigh and said, “Not long. I overheard him telling Melony about it. You have no idea how I wanted to give that dear boy a good smack when I found out!”

  “I forgave Adam long ago.”

  “I’m grateful for that—for you giving him another chance. Adam needs friends like you in his life. I’ve tried to help keep the boy on the right track. Sadly, his parents made one mistake after another. But Adam has come a long way, and I know he sincerely cares about you, and in his own way he’s looking out for your best interests.”

  “Then you should be able to understand how announcing my wedding would make people like Adam, who doesn’t know Walt’s real story, flip out and just cause me grief. We have been letting them get used to Walt being here—letting them see—or think they are seeing—our relationship progress naturally. Tonight Walt’s taking me to Pearl Cove, and we’re going to let it be known it is a date—not landlord and tenant sharing a meal. And after a while we’ll announce our engagement, and we’ll have another wedding. With all our friends there.”

  “I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell Lily. Why you didn’t tell me sooner.”

  Danielle smiled softly and glanced to the closet and the hidden staircase leading to the attic bedroom. “Walt and I did not get to have a real honeymoon. Instead, we’ve had this time together—time we didn’t have to share with anyone. But now, like you just said, most people have come to accept Walt, and we’re ready to move forward.”

  “When are you going to tell Lily?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Why did you tell me?”

  Danielle shrugged. “I guess since you caught me coming out of the closet from Walt’s room, it was one way to avoid one of your relentless lectures.”

  “I don’t lecture,” she said defensively. “And certainly not relentlessly.”

  In response, Danielle arched her brow.

  Marie shrugged. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

  The cellphone began to ring. Danielle stood up and pulled it out of her pajama-bottom pocket. She looked at it a moment before answering. It was Lily.

  When she finished with the phone call a minute later, she said, “That was Lily. She’s on her way over. Now promise, please keep my secret and don’t tell Eva.”

  “I wanted to come over last night.” Lily sat down at the kitchen table and lifted the glass dome off the cake pan without asking.

  “Cookies for breakfast?” Danielle teased.

  “One of these includes all the basic food groups.” Lily snatched a cookie.

  “Fruits and vegetables?”

  “It has chocolate, doesn’t it? That comes from a plant.”

  “True. You want some milk with that?” Danielle opened the refrigerator.

  “Of course, you know me.” Lily looked down at the cookie she had just placed on a napkin. “How did they turn out?”

  “You tell me.” Danielle poured cold milk into a tall glass.

  Lily swiped a bit of the frosting with her fingertip and stuck it in her mouth. “I love this frosting. So much better than that canned junk they sell in the stores.”

  Danielle walked to the table and set the glass of milk by Lily and then sat down.

  “The original frosting recipe called for whipped raw egg, but I leave that out,” Danielle told her.

  “Why is that?”

  “I don’t want to get someone sick by eating raw egg.”

  Lily took a bite and then moaned. With frosting on the edges of her mouth, she looked at Danielle and said, “It is so moist.”

  Danielle smiled. “Thank you.”

  After Lily finished the cookie, she said, “You know what I don’t understand?”

  “What?”

  “My mom told me that when she was a kid, Grandma used to make her homemade eggnog—with raw eggs—and no one got sick. I’ve seen lots of old recipes where you don’t cook the eggs. Like homemade meringue. So why now? Did people get sick back then and just didn’t know what caused it?”

  “I looked it up once when I started using Mom’s old recipe books. I wondered that too,” Danielle explained. “I guess it wasn’t even
an issue until the 1970s. Until then, people rarely got sick from eating raw eggs. Heck, my mom told me she used to make herself health drinks in a blender with raw eggs.”

  Lily wrinkled her nose. “Ick.”

  “But around the seventies, something changed. Not sure if it was a sanitation issue or a new strain of salmonella. I just know it was no longer as safe as it used to be to eat raw eggs.”

  Lily licked frosting off her fingers and said, “I think your frosting tastes delicious without the egg.”

  “If you want to take some cookies home with you, help yourself.”

  “Thanks, but that would be dangerous. I’ll just come over here and mooch them.” Lily grinned.

  “So how was dinner last night? Sorry I missed it.”

  “It was fine. But Carla said something interesting.” Lily studied Danielle.

  “Who was she talking about now?”

  “You.”

  Danielle arched her brows. “Me?”

  “According to Carla, someone saw you and Walt getting busy at Pearl Cove not long after he moved in.”

  “Getting busy?”

  Lily nodded.

  Danielle groaned. “I didn’t think anyone saw us.”

  “So what’s going on with you and Walt?”

  “You know how I feel about Walt.”

  “Do I? You don’t really talk about it. Back when he was the local friendly ghost, you often reminded me he was just a friend. Not that it wasn’t obvious how you really felt.”

  Danielle was saved from answering the question when the landline rang. She immediately stood up. “I have to get that.”

  Lily sat quietly at the table and listened to Danielle’s side of the conversation. It was obvious to her Danielle was taking a reservation. When Danielle got off the phone, she finished writing something in the reservation book before turning back to Lily.

  “So when was that for?” Lily asked.

  “It was another Christmas reservation.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to take any reservations this Christmas—except for Chris’s uncles.”

  Danielle walked to the table and sat down. “I wasn’t going to. In fact, I turned down a few.”

  “So why did you change your mind? Is this someone special?”

  “Last night when I was making cookies, Walt and I were talking about how it’s going to be kind of awkward having Chris’s uncles stay here.”

  “So more guests will make it less awkward?” Lily asked.

  “Yeah, maybe. We started talking about how it might be a nice buffer if we had some other guests staying here. That way, it’s not just Walt and me trying to make conversation with the uncles around the breakfast table. Considering the circumstances, I don’t really have a favorable opinion of the men, and I haven’t even met them yet.”

  “So who are the other guests?”

  “Newlyweds. Apparently they had reservations in Depoe Bay, but something happened with the property, she didn’t tell me exactly, so now they’re scrambling to find someplace to stay since it’s such short notice. She seemed thrilled we had a vacancy.”

  “I bet she did. What are their names?”

  “Zara and Noah Bishop.”

  Fourteen

  December 19

  “I wish you’d have come to me before going to the Glandons,” Noah told Zara—again. He sat with her in his car, looking up at Marlow House. They had arrived minutes earlier.

  “I’m so sorry, Noah. We don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, we do. They didn’t give us any choice,” Noah reminded her.

  “I just don’t know how we’re going to pull this off. Maybe you should just forget about me and go talk to Chris. Tell him everything.”

  “What if he doesn’t believe me? If he doesn’t believe you? Why should he? We’re strangers to him,” Noah reminded her.

  “Then don’t tell him everything,” she suggested. “It’s my fault all this happened. I’ll deal with the consequences of my actions. You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t want you risking your life, and this could be dangerous.”

  “Do you honestly think I would walk away from you now?” he asked. “Plus, if I don’t tell him everything—or if I tell him everything too soon, it could cost him his life.”

  Zara let out a sigh and slumped back in the car’s seat and closed her eyes. “Imagine what would have happened had I not got lost and ended up in Silverton.”

  “I just hope this Ramone knows what he’s talking about. You sure the Glandons are arriving tomorrow?” Noah asked.

  “That’s what they said.”

  “I think I’d better go up first. I’ll tell them you’re in the car on the phone. And then when I come back to get the rest of the luggage, you can come up with me.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Noah opened the driver’s door and stepped out of the car. He paused a moment before closing the door and said, “Whatever you do, stay in the car until I get back. Promise?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The scent of pine permeated the interior of Marlow House. It came from multiple sources—the towering noble pine in the living room—festive evergreen wreaths hanging in various rooms throughout the house—and diffused essential oils, a holiday gift from Heather.

  Danielle had been humming Christmas carols all afternoon. She stood in the living room, admiring the Christmas tree, its limbs weighed down with gold and red shiny balls. Hidden in the branches were strands of white twinkly lights. They had decorated the tree earlier in the month—the Sunday after her and Walt’s first official date. Most of their friends had helped with the tree, including Ian, Lily, Chris, Heather, Adam, Melony, and even the chief and his boys, along with the guests who had been staying at Marlow House that weekend.

  There was no denying the Christmas spirit after the tree-decorating party. The holiday spirit continued with each new round of guests, who usually arrived on Thursday or Friday and checked out by Monday. However, today was Monday, and while guests had checked out this morning, more were arriving this afternoon.

  “Everything looks beautiful,” Walt said when he walked into the living room. “I think this tree is even better than last year’s.”

  Danielle turned toward him and smiled. “Times like this I wish I would have listened to you, and didn’t start the bed and breakfast.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you say that. You seem to really enjoy it. Meeting new people—giving you an excuse to bake ten dozen cookies.”

  Danielle grinned. “I know. But I really wish we weren’t having any guests this week. I don’t want to share our first Christmas with strangers.”

  Walt walked to Danielle and took one of her hands in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If we’re lucky, we’ll have many Christmases together. And it’s a little too late to close up shop now. I believe the newlyweds have arrived.”

  Danielle glanced toward the front window, but she couldn’t see the street from where she stood. “They haven’t rung the bell.”

  “They’re just sitting in the car. I saw them from my window upstairs.”

  Danielle frowned, still looking toward the window. “Maybe it’s not them, just someone lost and trying to figure out where they are,” she suggested.

  The doorbell rang.

  “See,” Walt said.

  Several minutes later Danielle opened the front door, Walt by her side. Standing on the front porch was a man, suitcase in hand. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, and by Danielle’s estimation, fairly good-looking, with an athletic physique, sandy-colored hair, and twinkling blue eyes.

  “I hope I’m at the right place. This is Marlow House, isn’t it?” the man asked.

  “Yes, it is. I’m the proprietor, Danielle Boatman, and this is one of our full-time residents, Walt Marlow,” Danielle introduced. “I assume you’re Noah Bishop?”

  “Yes, I am. Nice to meet you.” Noah turned toward Walt, prepared to shake his hand
when he paused and said, “Wait a minute…you’re that Walt Marlow the author!”

  Walt shook his hand and smiled. “Guilty as charged.”

  “I recognized you from the picture on your book cover! I just finished your book. I absolutely loved it!”

  “Thank you.”

  “Wow!” Noah looked at Danielle and grinned. “I had no idea a celebrity lived here.”

  Danielle glanced at Walt and smiled. “We are proud of him.”

  “I heard they were already talking about making a movie out of your book. It would make a great movie.”

  “There is talk, but it’s a little soon to say for sure,” Walt told him.

  Danielle craned her neck to get a better view of the street. “And your wife? I believe I talked to her on the phone when she made the reservation.”

  “She’s in the car, on the phone. It rang right when we pulled up,” he lied. “She’ll be a few minutes.”

  Danielle opened the door wider and welcomed him in. “There’s no reason for us to all stand out here. Please, come in.”

  Still holding the suitcase, Noah walked into the house and glanced around the impressive entry hall and asked, “Do you have a lot of guests staying here?”

  “At the moment, just Walt—and now you and your wife,” Danielle said. “We have two other guests arriving tomorrow, who’ll be staying through Christmas, like you. I can take you to your room now unless you’d rather wait for your wife,” Danielle asked.

  “I’d like to take this suitcase to my room, if you don’t mind, but first, I need to tell you something.” He glanced to the front door and then back to Danielle.

  “Yes?” Danielle asked.

  “I wanted to warn you about my wife before she gets here. I don’t want to embarrass her, but I think I should explain.”

  “Is there a problem?”