Besides, I had always assumed I’d have to hide my secret from any guy I dated. I figured any normal guy would freak out and run away while crossing himself and screaming for an exorcism.
Payne didn’t do any of that.
In fact, he handled it really well. Maybe too well? Maybe…
Oh hell, I didn’t want to keep analyzing it at this point. Couldn’t I just be giddy about the Payne nearly kissed me thing without going crazy as to why? Isn’t that what a normal girl would do?
Like I know what a normal girl would do.
Maggie would though. I was looking forward to calling her to spill all the deets. Well, most of them, anyway. I knew I better leave out the part about talking to Jared’s ghost. If I was going to needle her for info on Payne’s dad, I’d have to be discreet. But hey, I could be discreet.
That’s when I saw my grandfather on the back porch, waiting. He was wearing a smile that made me think of a cat that had a mouse cornered. I guess that made me the mouse.
My hope was to simply say hello to Grandpa as I passed by into the house.
“Well,” Grandpa said. “I’ve heard you’ve had a busy day. Finding the body of poor, little Jared McKnight while keeping company with his older cousin Payne. That’s one hell of an afternoon, Bristol. I’d love to hear how that happened.”
“Nothing to tell, really,” I said. “We we’re just talking, and we found him. I feel really bad for Payne and his family.”
“Me too,” Grandpa said. “Got nothing but sympathy for the McKnights. The whole bunch of ‘em.”
“Why do I feel he’s not being completely truthful about that, darling?” Someone else said. Jay materialized next to Grandpa. He sent me that killer grin that gave me goose bumps.
“I can’t believe,” Grandpa went on, completely unaware of Jay’s ghostly presence, “that the two of you were just walking along together and happened across Jared McKnight’s body. People have been looking for him for years. It’s quite an accomplishment.” He gave me that cornered mouse look again.
“Well,” I said. “There was a dog involved.”
“Uh-huh.” Grandpa arched an eyebrow. “A dog?”
I nodded. “Yup. Cute one, too. I’m not sure what kind, but it was black and had a long tail and ears…” I put my fingers near my head to simulate dog ears and panted a little. “You know, a dog.”
Jay giggled while Grandpa goggled.
“You know, Bristol,” Grandpa said. “You can trust me. You can tell me anything. It’s all right.”
I stopped my dog impression and gave him my best fake smile. “Thank you, Grandpa,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Yeah, right.
“What I mean,” Grandpa continued, “is that here in Spirit, you wouldn’t be the only one who is… special.”
“Watch yourself,” Jay warned. “I believe he’s trying to trick you into revealing something about yourself you may not want to.”
“Grandpa,” I said. “I like to think that we’re all special in our own way. Even you.”
Grandpa chuckled. “How very Lifetime Channel of you.”
“You watch Lifetime?” I asked.
“What is Lifetime?” Jay asked.
“Bristol,” Grandpa continued, “you may think you’re fooling me, but you’re not. I know there’s something different about you.”
“It’s because I’m from New York City,” I explained. “They make us tough down there.”
“I ain’t talking about you being able to hail a cab better than everyone else,” Grandpa grumbled. “I’m talking about you having a little something extra. A talent if you will, that most don’t have, if you know what I mean.”
“Well, Grandpa, I might. It’s been awhile, but there was this one thing I used to do, sometimes.”
“Yeah?” Grandpa leaned closer.
“Well, I used to able to burp out the alphabet,” I said. “It’s been a long time since I tried. Getting past the L-M-N-O-P part was always the hardest.”
Grandpa looked furious.
Jay grinned. “How charming.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Grandpa barked. He shook his head. Clearly, he was trying to keep his temper in check, and I wasn’t helping. I was good that way.
“Bristol, I think it’s time I explained about Spirit,” Grandpa said. “Why Spirit is different than anywhere else. How our family is tied to Spirit, and why we never leave.”
“My parents left,” I corrected.
“Yeah,” Grandpa acknowledged. “Look how that turned out for them.”
His words felt like a kick in the gut. Still, it didn’t seem like Grandpa was trying to be mean.
“Let me tell you a story,” Grandpa said and patted the seat next to him, right where Jay was sitting. Jay found it very disturbing, and I really couldn’t blame him. Instead, I took a seat across from Grandpa on the bench.
“Is this a story with unicorns?” I asked. “I love stories with unicorns.”
“Girls,” Grandpa said. “My grandsons want stories about dragons. My granddaughter wants unicorns.”
“Dragons can be nice,” I offered. “Especially the cute ones who talk.”
Grandpa rolled his eyes. “No talking dragons, or dancing unicorns, or singing squirrels, or anything like that. This is about your family and the McKnight family. I’m sure by now you’ve realized that our families don’t exactly get along.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” I said. “One or two thousand times.”
“All right,” Grandpa said. “So first thing you need to understand is both the Blackburn and the McKnight families have been around for a long time. We were both here when Spirit was first founded. Even back then, the McKnights had the money, and we did most of the work. McKnights have always owned things. Because of that, they think that they can own people.”
“Grandpa,” I chastised.
Grandpa ignored me. “Look, my point is the hard feelings that exist between our families have been around for a long time. And believe me, it’s mutual. They hate us as much as we hate them.”
“Grandpa,” I repeated, this time with the extra dramatic flair of an eye roll. “I understand you don’t like them. I don’t really know them. Payne seems, at least so far, to be okay.”
“So far?” Grandpa smiled. “I figured as much.”
“What?”
“You haven’t fully decided to trust him yet,” Grandpa said. “Good. I hadn’t thought so. I heard you talking before in your room, having a very interesting conversation.”
“You what?” I felt a stab of panic.
“Take it easy,” Jay cautioned. “I doubt he realizes who you were talking to.”
“Talking to that hamster of yours,” Grandpa said. “Glorified rat is what it is, if you ask me.”
Jay broke out in laughter. I tried my best not to look at him, but he wasn’t making it easy.
“So,” Grandpa said, “if I could continue. Back then there were others… I suppose they existed on both sides if I’m being honest here, that thought the feud was silly. You had an ancestor, James Blackburn, who made it his mission to mend fences. Went out of his way for nearly a year trying to be nice to the McKnights. Brought them fresh vegetables from his garden. Looked out for some of their elderly. One day, he saw a horse on his land. He recognized it as belonging to one of the McKnights. Figured it had gotten loose and wandered onto his property. So, he did the neighborly thing and returned it. Unfortunately for James, the horse belonged to some kid named Penelope McKnight. She was a very spoiled, stuck-up, piece of…. Well, you’re kind of young for that kind of language.”
“Grandpa, I’ve heard all the bad words.”
“Maybe you have,” Jay said. “But I’m not sure that I know them all. Maybe I would like your grandfather to enlighten me.”
“The point is,” Grandpa continued, “she knew that if the horse had gotten out, it was because she hadn’t secured the barn door. She accused James of stealing it. Can you imagine that?
Here was this guy who normally got laughed at because of all the nice things he did for the McKnights, and they accuse him of stealing her horse! What sense did that make?”
“Not much, I suppose,” I admitted. “What happened?”
“Well, they knew it would never be proven,” Grandpa said, “so they just decided to teach him a little lesson themselves. I understand they broke both his arms, several ribs…. You get the idea.”
“Yeah, I do, and it sounds horrible. But really, Grandpa, does it really matter?” I asked. “I mean, how long ago was this? How many greats would I have to put before Uncle James’ name before I got it right?”
“A good point.” Grandpa smiled. “And you’re right, it was a long time ago. I’m just trying to say that Blackburns have tried to make peace with the McKnights on more than one occasion.”
“Well, I’m not,” I insisted. “I’m not trying to make peace between the families. I’m going to judge each McKnight for themselves. I saw a few McKnights at school the other day. Maggie told me their names were Archer and Blasé I think.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen them,” Grandpa mumbled. “I know they’re both good looking boys but, Bristol, let me tell you, they’re—”
“Bullies,” I interjected. “I know. I saw them picking on this kid, but when Payne got there he defended him against his cousins.”
Grandpa seemed to consider my words. “I understand what you’re saying. But that doesn’t mean…”
“Grandpa,” I said, “I’m not about to run off and marry him. We’re not even dating. I can’t even imagine going out on a date with him. I can’t imagine him wanting to…”
“Hey,” Grandpa said. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think anyone in this town would be lucky to take you out. You’re a Blackburn! And more importantly, you’re my granddaughter. I don’t think you realize how lovely you are.”
I was taken aback. Not just at his words but at the sincerity behind them. It was also clear the sense of pride that had been behind the words “my granddaughter.” I glanced at Jay, who was watching me intently.
“He speaks the truth, Bristol,” Jay said. “You are a very beautiful young lady with a charming personality. I am filled with jealousy at the thought of any young man courting you. Trust me, if our circumstances were different, I would spend all my time trying to find a way to curry your favor.”
I blushed deeply at Jay’s words. Old fashioned as they were, they made me feel very special.
Grandpa huffed. “All right now. Don’t go getting all girly on me.”
I laughed. “I would never think of it.”
“Let’s get back to the story, shall we?” Grandpa asked.
“There’s more?”
“Yes, I was just giving you a little background. Setting the stage.”
“Okay,” I said. “The stage is set. What happened next?”
“I’m getting to that,” Grandpa barked. “So you get the fact that neither family got along. Usually, they both kept their distance from one another. When they couldn’t, problems ensued. The biggest problem was when a young girl named Annabelle Blackburn, who was just about your age, maybe a year older, caught the eye of Tristan McKnight.”
“Ah ha,” I mumbled.
“Ah ha is right.” Grandpa smiled. “Annabelle was a very beautiful young girl. Long, dark hair, breathtaking blue eyes, and like you, rather strong willed. As the story goes, Tristan was the guy that every girl in town wanted for themselves. He was known to be very polite, smart, a hard worker, and of course, the best looking guy in town. Just like me.”
“Yeah,” I deadpanned. “You’re a hottie.”
“I do believe I’m going to be sick,” Jay said.
“The point is,” Grandpa continued, “Tristan pursued Annabelle like it was his life’s work. As I understand, she didn’t keep him waiting long. Pretty soon they were inseparable. It was like a storybook romance. Their families wanted to burn that particular storybook. Annabelle’s family warned her that Tristan would betray her. That he just wanted what he couldn’t have.”
“The forbidden fruit,” I said.
“Something like that.” Grandpa nodded. “Of course, Tristan’s family tried to ward him off. Told him Annabelle was only after his money.”
“If they loved each other, they shouldn’t have cared,” I said. “Their families should have just left them alone.”
To my surprise, Grandpa agreed. “You’re right, of course. Maybe if they had, our families wouldn’t be in the position we’re in today.”
“And what position is that?” I asked.
“We’ll get to that,” Grandpa insisted and I pouted. “Don’t pout.”
“I don’t pout,” I said.
“Right,” Grandpa replied. “Annabelle’s family threatened to throw her out on the street if she didn’t stop seeing Tristan. And that was a much bigger deal than it would be today, trust me. Tristan’s family threatened to cut him off from the family fortune. To his credit, from what I understand, Tristan never batted an eye. He didn’t care about the money. Neither of them did. They were in love. They wanted to get married. Have babies. Blah, blah, blah.”
“Grandpa,” I teased, “you romantic old fool.”
Ignoring me, Grandpa continued. “So before anyone knew it, they were engaged and the wedding date was approaching. Both of them tried to get the other’s family to accept them. They were making some progress. Tristan had even formally asked Annabelle’s father for her hand in marriage. Her father had to admit he was impressed by the young man. For a while, it looked like there would be a happily ever after.”
“I take it there wasn’t,” I said. “Was it picking out china patterns that did them in?”
“No, it had nothing to do with dishes,” Grandpa said. “And far more to do with the fact that three days before the wedding, Annabelle disappeared. No one knew where she was. At first, they thought maybe she was with Tristan, but he had no idea where she was either, and no one doubted him. He was frantic. They say his love for her was so clear to everyone that even those McKnights who had been dead set against the wedding put aside their differences with the Blackburns and started to look for her. Then after three days, they found her.” Grandpa sighed. “Or what was left of her.”
I gasped.
“She’d been tortured,” Grandpa said. “Broken bones. Burned skin. Left naked in the woods. Worst part was her eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes that every single person in Spirit had admired were gone.”
“Gone?” I repeated. “What happened to them?”
Grandpa shrugged. “No one knows. When Tristan found her they say you could hear him scream from one end of the town to the other.”
“He must have been devastated.”
“As the story goes, he had a small house he’d built by the stream. He was going to move into it with Annabelle after they were married. He holed himself in there, away from everyone. He wouldn’t talk to anyone from either family. And while he was in there, things happened.”
“What things?” I asked.
Grandpa sighed. “Bad things. The families once again turned on each other. The McKnights accused us of killing poor Annabelle just so Tristan could never have her, saying the Blackburns felt she’d be better dead than to become a McKnight.”
“I suppose the Blackburns blamed the McKnights?” I asked.
“You’d suppose correctly,” Grandpa affirmed.
“Did they ever catch the killer? I mean really catch him and prove it was him?”
“Catch him?” Grandpa said. “Maybe they did. People on both sides seemed to take matters into their own hands. There was plenty of violence to go around. Prove it? Nope, they never did prove a damn thing. Except that McKnights and Blackburns make better enemies than friends.”
I shook my head. “It shouldn’t have to be that way. What happened was horrible, but it was the work of a maniac, not an entire family. And certainly that has nothing to do with members of the families today.”
; Grandpa laughed. “You think that was the end of the story? I haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked. “Dead brides-to-be with their eyes popped out is the warm-up? What do you consider the good stuff? Cannibalism?”
“Just listen,” Grandpa grumbled. “This here is important.”
I rolled my eyes, then sat up straight and gave him a salute.
“Okay, so after a few days,” Grandpa continued, “some people were getting very upset over the McKnights and the Blackburns beating the tar out of each other. Someone got the idea to try and end it. It started with Annabelle’s mother, who was scared one of her other children would get killed. She and Tristan’s father decided to go and see Tristan. Annabelle’s mother had been one of the first to accept Tristan, and Tristan’s father had taken a shine to Annabelle. He never had a daughter and had started to look forward to Annabelle being a part of the family. They decided they were going to go to Tristan’s house and break down the door if they had to, and then the three of them would do their best to calm everyone else down.
“When they got there,” Grandpa said, “the door was locked. Tristan didn’t answer. His father banged at the door. Annabelle’s mother begged for him to answer. Nothing. So his father yelled out if Tristan didn’t open this door within ten seconds, he was going to kick the door in. He gave him twenty. Then he kicked the door in and walked into what must have been hell.”
“Why?” I asked. “What did he find?”
“He found Tristan,” Grandpa said, “hanging from the rafters, a noose around his neck, his bodily fluids dripping onto the floor below.”
“Oh no,” I gasped. It was so horrible. The story had started out with all the elements of a classic love story—a handsome young man, a beautiful young lady, and an unbreakable love, forbidden by their families. Then it turned into a Shakespearian tragedy with a huge helping of something out of a horror film thrown in.
“Instead of getting better,” Grandpa went on, “things got worse. Instead of random beatings where someone limped away, members of both families started to disappear. Sometimes they would be found alive, sometimes they would be found dead. Sometimes, they were never found at all. Then it got worse.”
Vision of Shadows Page 9
