Slowly, I made my way down the narrow staircase. At the bottom, I paused and looked back at the attic door. Nothing amiss. With a sigh, I headed to my bed.
My paranoia kept me awake, but at some point sleep overtook me. Within what seemed like minutes, I startled awake. The sound of footsteps thundered above me. It sounded like someone with a limp wearing heavy boots struggled to walk across the floor. I clutched the comforter to my chest, my mind racing. Every few seconds, I thought I heard a whisper, a name I couldn’t make out. I trembled. Suddenly, the noise ceased, which made my heart beat even faster. If the person was no longer upstairs, where were they? I resisted the urge to call 911. What could I tell them? I heard footsteps and then they disappeared?
After a few tense moments, I caved. If someone was in the house, I needed help. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. The dispatcher advised me to stay put, and she would stay on the line with me until the police arrived. Every few minutes she asked if I heard anything else, and every time I said no I felt more stupid, but not nearly as stupid as when the police, informed me the front door had been hanging wide open. I thanked them for their kindness and assured them I would check the door every night before bed.
I clearly remember checking the lock on the front door after I brought the last load from the car to the house. But since the police found it open, apparently I hadn’t. I made some tea to help me stay awake and sat down at the kitchen table. I couldn’t fathom going back to the bedroom or trying to sleep anymore.
Chapter Two
I struggled to open my eyes when the alarm on my cell phone sounded at 4:30 a.m., but I was determined not to lend any credit to Mr. McClay’s notion I wasn’t up to the task. I lifted my head from the table top and dragged myself to my bedroom. The events of last night still fresh in my head, I tried to convince myself I had overreacted.
After taking a quick shower, throwing on some makeup and pulling my hair into a ponytail, I dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then trudged down the stairs to our designated meeting spot.
Mr. McClay strode up to me. “Morning. Ready?” he asked, his voice still held a tinge of disdain but seemed a significant improvement from yesterday.
“Yes.” Luckily, I was mostly a morning person though the interruption last night had dampened my normal cheery morning self.
We fed horses, turned horses out, checked on mares and foals in a large pasture while driving a 4-wheel drive golf cart and ended up back at the barn. By that time the sun had risen, the sunshine gave me a much needed boost. I felt like my happy self again, even if the company was a little cantankerous.
“Thank you, Mr. McClay. Much appreciated.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I intend to help you in the mornings until I get the hang of things.”
“I can handle things pretty well myself, but you should do some research on bloodlines and such. We’re going to have mares to breed soon. Unless you have different plans.” His tone told me he’d laid down a challenge. One that he didn’t think I could handle. Little did he know, I loved research.
“Nope, that’s what we’ll do and consider it done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to get finished in the house.”
He gave a slight nod and strode away from me.
I walked back in the house and worked on unpacking the boxes in the front room. My stomach growled, and I realized I hadn’t thought of food since arriving, which just made me hungrier. That wasn’t like me at all…I had three squares no matter what. I shook my head. I had to return the rental car so I could hit the grocery or pick up something, but I’d need a little help since I hadn’t bought a car yet.
The only person I knew was Mr. McClay. Wait, I could just call a cab. I picked up my cell phone and found the number for a local taxi service. I gave the person my address. My mouth gaped open at the outrageous price to have a taxi bring me home. I need to buy a car sooner rather than later. I thanked the lady on the phone and disconnected. I refused to spend money frivolously, even though I had a lot of it.
Then it dawned on me, I could just ask the dealership to return the rental car. After all I’d be buying a brand new car from them so surely they wouldn’t mind. It’d be nice to check out things in town while I was out as well.
Ready to head to town, I grabbed my purse, walked to the back of the house and grasped the doorknob of a set of French doors. The knob wouldn’t turn. Strange. I checked the lock, not engaged so I tried again and once more the knob wouldn’t turn. Rather than stand there looking like an idiot, I moved to another set of doors but received the same result. By the time I tried all the doors, my heart pounded in my chest. What in heaven’s name?
I moved to the front of the house to use the front door. Frost clung to the knob. My breath turned to vapor. My stomach did a flip, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. In a blind panic, I rushed to the French doors again and began pulling and banging with all my might. After a few minutes, I realized the futility of my attempts and melted to the floor. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening or why. Tears formed in my eyes. Crying would solve nothing, but a feeling of helplessness washed over me.
I dashed away my tears and with renewed resolve I rose, grasped a door knob in my hand and viciously turned. It turned easily and the door popped open, almost causing me to fall backward. My mouth fell open. Was I losing my mind? I dashed out the door and turned around to look back. Closing the door, I opened it again immediately and left the door ajar. I’d need a way inside when I got back from town.
Quickly walking across the concrete, I heard the door shut behind me. I refused to look back though my hands shook. I didn’t want to think about it and certainly couldn’t tell anyone, they’d think me insane.
****
Having money certainly made buying a car a completely different experience. A quick call to Mr. Ferguson was really all I needed. Then they handed me the keys and wished me well.
I arrived home with my new car a short time later after picking up groceries and grabbing a quick lunch, and parked it in the garage. It looked lonely there, sitting by itself in the huge space but perhaps I’d have need for a truck or SUV sometime in the future.
I carried the groceries into the house, relieved I had no issues with the doors or the key, and stowed them in the fridge. The boxes in the front room still required my attention so I returned to that task, hopeful I might get everything unpacked by evening.
I carried a large elegantly-decorated grapevine wreath I’d picked up in town, to the fireplace. I couldn’t resist a unique arts and crafts store when I saw one. I’d need a boost to hang it where I wanted so I carefully laid the wreath on the stone hearth. I left the room to hunt down a chair. When I returned to the front room with the chair, the wreath no longer lay on the hearth but rather back in the box I’d unpacked it from. I looked around hoping to find the prankster playing a trick on me. No such luck.
With shaky hands, I removed the wreath from the box again and strode over to the chair I’d placed in front of the fireplace. I stepped up on the hearth and as I lifted my foot to mount the chair it slid two feet away. I nearly dropped the wreath on the floor and had to steady myself with a hand on the stone of the fireplace to step off the hearth.
My heart hammered in my chest. I fought to remain calm. Quite obviously this house was haunted, but I had no idea what to do about it or if the thing haunting this place would/could do me harm.
“Hello. I know you’re here, and I just want to live in peace,” I said, my voice shaking. I hoped to let the ghost know I didn’t mean it any harm. As a pretty easy-going person, I could find a way to live in harmony with a ghost.
The chair flew at me and if I hadn’t ducked to the side would have hit me. I felt the wind as it flew past, giving me an idea of the amount of force that moved it. It crashed into the wall and fell over. Holy shit! My heart raced in my chest and fear tightened my throat. Apparently, the ghost didn’t want me here but what could I do? Leave?
I had nowhere to go. Oh sure, I could find a hotel but this was my new house…the new start to my life.
I narrowed my eyes, set the wreath on the hearth and stubbornly retrieved the chair. I picked up the wreath and mounted the hearth. I tentatively placed my foot on the chair. The wooden chair vibrated, but I refused to remove my foot. I stepped onto the chair with both feet and hung the wreath on a hook above the fireplace.
As soon as my hands released the wreath, the chair kicked backward onto the floor, taking me with it. I fell in a heap, jarring my left wrist and knee while giving me several more bruises. I lay on the floor for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath and decide what to do.
A faint sound reached me. It sounded like wind blowing through treetops. I listened closely and heard an almost imperceptible word. Leave. My heart rate increased, and I started to hyperventilate. I felt tingles in my limbs as my hands shook uncontrollably.
A knock on the door, roused me from my fear. On quaking legs, I stood and dusted myself off. Slowly moving to the front door, I opened it and found Mr. McClay standing there.
My eyes grew wide and the blood rushed from my head. I placed a hand on the door jamb.
“Are you okay? You’re not going to pass out are you?” He eyed me critically.
I was scared out of my mind but didn’t want to reveal anything to Mr. McClay. He wasn’t fond of me already, I couldn’t imagine what he’d think if I spilled the beans. I willed myself back to normal. “I’m fine. Can I help you?” My voice came out shaky but at least I kept it from cracking.
“There’s a slick guy at the gate. Says he’s here to visit his new neighbor,” he said.
“Oh, okay. Who is he?”
“Cyrus Marvel.”
“Oh.”
“Do you know him?” Mr. McClay’s stone expression seemed to harden, if that’s possible.
“No. But if he’s a neighbor, I’ve love to meet him. How do I let him in?”
Mr. McClay’s harrumphed and said, “I’ll do it.” He turned and sauntered away.
I looked down at my attire, jeans and an old T-shirt…it would have to do. I didn’t think I could make it to my bedroom before my visitor arrived at the door, at least not with the ache in my knee and several other places.
So I stood in the doorway. A black sedan came into view and circled the drive, stopping in front of the house. I stepped outside and walked down the stairs to greet him.
His luxury car gleamed in the bright sunlight and exuded money and power.
A tall broad-shouldered man with an olive complexion climbed out of the car, a smile on his face. He wore tan pants, a navy blue sport coat with a white shirt and a checkered tie. Sunglasses hid his eyes and his black hair had an intentional messy style. He strode around the car and held out his hand.
“So nice to meet you, Miss Harrison,” he said. When he reached me, he took my hand and brushed his lips across the back of it.
I wasn’t sure how to react. “Oh, you, too.”
“Allow me to introduce myself, Cyrus Marvel. I own Overfield farm.”
“I see. How do you know my name?”
“I heard through the grapevine you had inherited this place and thought I might drop by to say hi. My farm is only just down the road, so essentially we are neighbors.” His bright white smile flashed, reminding me of the teeth of a predator.
“Well, please, come in,” I said as I turned and walked up the stairs. “Excuse the mess, still a work in progress.”
“Understandable. You just moved in yesterday.”
I found it disconcerting Mr. Marvel seemed to know so much about my actions. Probably just an extremely active southern grapevine.
When we reached the door, I moved to open it but he beat me. The knob refused to budge.
“Ah, it seems you’ve locked yourself out, Miss Harrison,” he said.
“Oh, ummm…yes, it appears so.” I felt my cheeks heat. “I wonder how that happened,” I mused. Mr. Marvel took a step back so I grasped the knob and attempted to turn it, to no avail. A zap of fear traveled through me.
“Well, surely, you have other doors,” he said. The annoyance in his voice belied the smile on his face.
“Of course,” I said, trying to keep fear and my lack of confidence from tainting my words.
I led him around the side of the house and pointed out the barn and several of the horses whose names I remembered. I didn’t want him to think me a total nitwit.
When we walked into the pool area, he seemed impressed. “A very nice setup for entertaining. Hopefully, you’ll host a get together soon. You know see and, most importantly, be seen.”
“Yes, well, maybe.” I wasn’t about to make promises besides I hadn’t enjoyed his company to this point and started to question why I would invite him in my house. Of course, I couldn’t back out now since I’d already done so.
We reached a set of French doors and I turned the knob without any luck, of course. None of the doors would open. I looked up at the third-story window. The curtain ruffled, and I got the distinct impression of a man or figure standing there. My heart skipped a beat, and I struggled to remain composed.
“Seems you locked yourself out completely, Miss Harrison,” Mr. Marvel said, a snicker hidden behind his words. “I’ll just be on my way so you can resolve this…small problem.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you for visiting.”
“Good luck.” Mr. Marvel strode away, and I heard him mumble under his breath, “How embarrassing.”
He had no idea. I wanted to melt into the ground but then anger stirred. How gallant of him to try to help me with my “small problem.” My instincts about him were right from the start. I didn’t intend to entertain him again.
Slowly, I turned my gaze up, the curtain hung limp, as it should be. Turning the knob, it opened. I knew I wasn’t losing my mind; Mr. Marvel hadn’t been able to turn the knob either. Somehow the blowing curtain connected to the locked doors, but exactly what was going on? I knew the answer to the question but refused to think about it further.
The sound of birds chirping in the trees, buzzing insects and horses munching grass thundered in my ears, and I put my hands over them to block out the noise. My vision started to cloud.
“Mister Fancy Pants find his way home?”
I dropped my hands and spun around, ripped from my faint. “Oh, Mr. McClay, I didn’t hear you there.”
“Will you, please, call me Preston?”
“Okay, Preston.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yep, all good. Thanks for asking.”
“If you’re sure…” He looked at my bruised arms, and I resisted the urge to cross them in an attempt to hide them.
“Completely sure. I’ve got to go.” I retreated into the house though I’m not sure why…I certainly couldn’t call it my safe place. I suppose out of necessity, to escape Preston’s critical gaze.
I walked into the kitchen and leaned my elbows on the countertop. After today’s adventure with the chair, I needed professional help. Not for me, well maybe for me, but for the house. How did one broach that subject? Hey there, my house wants me to leave, can you help? That had loony bin written all over it. First, I’d have to figure out whom to tell, who handled these kinds of things. Then I’d come up with the wording.
To clear my head, I decided to take a walk around the property. I ran to my room, snagged a sweater from the closet and headed out the front door, which miraculously opened. The wind had picked up and with the sun heading for the horizon the temperature started to drop. I walked and walked around the lush property, ducking or climbing over fences to walk some more. Curious horses approached and let me touch their soft noses.
Finally, I headed back to the house, darkness hot on my heels. I saw a light in the barn apartment and thought of Preston. I wondered if he might offer any insight into my predicament but immediately thought better of it. Given Mr. Marvel’s reaction to the locked doors, I could just imagine Preston’
s reaction when I told him I thought the house wanted me to move out. I desperately wanted to tell someone, someone who could help with my predicament, but I lacked the nerve. The thought of my new neighbors, the townsfolk, thinking I was a raving loony assured my silence.
I walked into the house and headed up the stairs to my room. Suddenly, my breath was visible and I shivered from the invading cold. I stopped at the top of the stairs. To my right, a faint blue light shined from the end of the hall. Thoughts of twin girls asking me to play flashed through my mind. I shook my head to clear the terrifying image and refused to investigate. I continued toward my room. A noise caused me to turn and a scream lodged in my throat. Instead of twin girls, the elegant hall table hovered inches from my face, the empty vase still gracing the top. Suddenly, the table dropped, shattering the vase. And the sound of wind in the trees returned.
Without waiting to hear the words, I sprinted to my room and slammed the door. My hands shook violently and tears fell uncontrolled. Without showering or changing clothes, I climbed in bed and huddled under the covers. If I lived through the night I would seek help tomorrow, I promised myself.
The night went exactly like the night before, footsteps dragging across the floor above and whispered words. Insistent banging added to the chorus. I refused to call the police…this problem was well beyond their scope of work. Unable to control my fear any longer, I grabbed a blanket and pillow and retreated to my car. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well.
Chapter Three
Haggard, bruised and worn, I barely made it to the barn in time to meet Preston. He must have noticed my lackluster appearance.
“Rough night?”
“You could say that,” I said. I promised myself I would get help today so why not start with the farm manager? He certainly seemed to know everything about the estate, maybe he knew about the house as well. If he called me crazy, he could just add that to the list of things he didn’t like about me.
Hauntings in the Garden, Volume One Page 16
