Spirits of the Season: Eight Haunting Holiday Romances

by Amanda DeWees

  She’d gotten off the highway in Stowe to take the winding backroads for the ten-mile drive to the sleepy little valley town, wanting to enjoy the scenery and catch a glimpse of the Lamoille River. However, as the snow became heavier and heavier, and with darkness setting in, she was beginning to regret that decision. It wasn’t that the BMW couldn’t handle the slippery roads. It was that she hated driving on them. She could’ve been behind the wheel of an all-terrain vehicle and her palms would still sweat.

  Even with her windshield wipers going full blast and her high beams on, she was still having trouble seeing the road. When she entered Clearwater, she let out a sigh of relief. Bronson Manor was just a few minutes away.

  Her car fishtailed a little when she turned onto her street. Stoney Brook Lane was narrow and had a couple of nail-biting curves even in the best of conditions. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter as she leaned in closer to the windshield. There were no streetlights along this desolate road and only four estates, all set far back on their lots, so nothing penetrated the inky darkness except her snow-caked headlights.

  As she approached the first curve, she slowed her BMW to a crawl and the car hugged the road nicely, but when she came to the second one, just as she rounded the bend, she spotted something in the road. Was that a man standing there? She squinted as she pressed on the brakes, but it was too late. Her car hit him head-on.

  Chapter 2

  As the BMW skidded to a stop, Laurel wondered if those were her screams ringing through her ears. She couldn’t stop shaking and, despite the freezing temperature, perspiration soaked her skin. What if I just killed a man? Operating on autopilot, she slammed the car into park and jumped out into the street.

  Snow swirled around her in a weird, frenzied dance. She blinked quickly, trying to focus in on the area in front of her car. But there was nothing there! Not even a drop of blood. How could that be? Then a terrible thought occurred to her. Could he be trapped under her car?

  She knelt down and trembling all over, peered under the BMW. It was too dark to see much of anything. “Hello,” she yelled. “Where are you?” The only response came from the howling wind. Terrified that he could be dead, she stood up and reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

  Just as she was about to dial 911, footsteps crunched through the snow behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin before spinning around. A man stood there. He had to be over six feet tall. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she stuttered. “Are you hurt?”

  He took a step closer, moving into the beam cast by her car’s headlights. He was broad shouldered and ruggedly handsome. His dark eyes were sharp and assessing as he looked her up and down. “I should be asking you that by the racket you were making after your car skidded.”

  She frowned. “So I didn’t hit you?”

  He shook his head, a puzzled look crossing his face. “No, why would you think that?”

  Her panic was beginning to return. If it wasn’t him, then it had to be someone else. “There was a man standing in the middle of the road. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. My car slid right into him.”

  “Really?” He raised his brows at her. “I live right there, and I didn’t see anyone in the road.” He pointed at the huge house on the right—Henry Talon’s place and her next-door neighbor. He must have picked up on her surprised expression because he added, “I bought the place three months ago.”

  “Well, there was a man, and he was right here.” She stepped in front of him to stand by the hood of her car.

  “Then where is he?”

  She lowered her gaze and pointed under the BMW.

  “You think he’s under the car?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. But where else could he be?” Her voice was high-pitched and bordering on hysterical.

  The man pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and got down on the ground, waving it from the front to the back of the car. When he finished, he slipped it into his pocket, got to his feet, and brushed the snow off his pants. “Told you there was no one there.”

  Her chest tightened, and she began to feel light-headed, so she leaned against the car to steady herself. She had seen someone…

  “Laurel, maybe you played Sophie too long.”

  She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. What was he talking about and how did he know her name? This night was getting stranger by the minute.

  “Wasn’t there an episode on Forever Young where during one of Sophie’s hallucinations, she thought she’d hit someone, but it was just a squirrel or something?”

  She swallowed hard. She tried to recall feeling a thud upon impact, but couldn’t. It all happened so fast, though… “I don’t suffer from hallucinations,” she spat. “And by the way, should I know you?”

  “Lucas Kensington. We went to Clearwater Academy together, and I was—”

  She clasped her hands together in an attempt to quell their trembling. “Ashley’s best friend,” she said softly, cutting him off.

  * * *

  Laurel Todd was more beautiful than he remembered and even more so than she was on TV. Lucas wasn’t surprised that she didn’t recognize him. Most people who hadn’t seen him since high school didn’t. Back then, no one noticed him. He’d lived in Ashley Allen’s shadow. And that was fine. He’d been happy that such a popular guy had befriended him. If not, those years would’ve been unbearable. Instead, he’d hung out with a great group of guys and attended the best parties. It mattered little that he went unnoticed. However, those days were gone. The shy geeky kid hadn’t turned out half-bad; at least it appeared so by the attention he got from women these days. Too bad no one could live up to the one woman he considered perfection—the woman who barely knew he existed. But that might change now that Laurel was back in town. Besides, she may not have recognized him, but she did remember his name. That was something, at least.

  His gaze held hers as she studied him, and he knew she was taking note of how he’d filled out since high school and how his long stringy blond hair was now cropped short and his horn-rimmed glasses had been replaced with contacts.

  “So you bought Henry’s place?” Her eyes still wore the glazed expression of someone trying to make sense out of a bizarre situation.

  “Yeah, at eighty-three, it was way too much house for him to keep up. He moved into an assisted living facility.”

  Her gaze shifted over to the huge Queen Anne Victorian home. “I can understand that. These places out here are way too much for any single person, regardless of age.” Her voice trailed off, and he knew she was referring to Bronson Manor as well. She looked back at him, but not before scanning both sides of the road. “Thanks for your help, Lucas. You have no idea how grateful I am that I didn’t actually hit someone. I just… I don’t know what happened. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.” Her fingers trembled as she brushed the falling snow from her hair.

  It was very apparent that she was still shaken up. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in for a little bit? I could make some coffee.”

  She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she might actually accept his invitation, but then she walked over to the driver’s side door and opened it. “Thanks, but I’m exhausted.” She offered him a little wave and left.

  He watched her taillights disappear down the road before he headed back inside the house. He’d planned to take his nightly walk after dinner but no longer felt like it. Laurel wasn’t the only one left unnerved by what transpired. And it wasn’t just because his secret crush was back in town, although, that was a big part of it. No, mostly what was causing the pit in the bottom of his stomach was the thought that the ghost stories he’d been told before purchasing Henry’s house and had brushed off as ridiculous just might be true.

  * * *

  Laurel had barely felt the biting cold when she’d been looking for the mysterious stranger she thought she’d hit with her car, but she felt it now. Her fingers were so numb, they tingled. She cranked up t
he BMW heater full blast. Maybe she should have taken Lucas up on his offer, but she’d in no way been prepared to have a conversation with one of Ashley’s closest friends. She should’ve called ahead to let Maria know she was coming too. The housekeeper rented a cottage on the property and could’ve popped over to the main house to turn up the heat and put on a few lights. Laurel never had liked walking into that place in the dark. But her decision to come had been so spur-of-the-moment, she’d never thought of it.

  She sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, trying to relax some as she pulled down the long driveway. She parked in front of the French country manor, shining her high beams on the house. The weather-beaten russet stones looked even more worn than she’d remembered, and the white wooden trim around the windows had begun to peel some. It was hard to tell the condition of the slate roof as most of it was covered with snow, but the green patina of the tower’s pointed copper roof was visible and from what she could tell, it looked fine. The house had been built at the turn of the twentieth century by Charles Bronson. Laurel’s family acquired it in 1920. Her grandfather, a lawyer and congressman, had been very well-known. The property was perfect for entertaining, and scores of politicians and wealthy businessmen had passed through its doors. Her father, a successful lawyer as well, had kept up the tradition, throwing many a lavish party.

  She left the car running while she unlocked the front door and then flipped on the exterior lights and the chandelier in the entry hall. Despite Maria’s weekly cleaning, the place had the musty smell that came with being unlived in. The clicking of her boots as she crossed the parquet floor in search of the thermostat echoed eerily. For a moment, she considered leaving, but where would she go? Besides, after that harrowing episode down the street, the last thing she wanted to do was get back behind the wheel, so she adjusted the heat to seventy-eight degrees and then quickly went outside to turn off her car and bring in her luggage.

  After setting her bags down in the hall, she strolled through the first floor, turning on lights as she went. There were two living rooms, elegantly furnished with antiques worth a small fortune. Her favorite was a pair of sculpted pottery horses from the Tang dynasty. She picked one up, running her thumb over its mane, and remembered how excited her parents had been to show them to her when they returned home after their trip to China. They loved to travel and had been to every country at least once. It was on a short four-day vacation to the Bahamas that their small chartered plane went down two miles from the airport. Her eyes filled with tears and her chest felt like a fifty-pound weight had been dropped on it. She’d never get over the pain of their loss, and it was made even worse now that she was among the treasures they’d loved.

  Gently, she set the horse down and headed into the dining room. Her gaze settled on the huge stone fireplace, and she swore she could smell the soot of its last blaze. When she entered the kitchen, she was immediately taken back to her childhood. The copper pots that Addie, their cook, had used to prepare their meals still hung from the rack above the stove, and the wicker baskets that she always had filled with bread lined the windowsills. For the first time all day, Laurel realized how hungry she was. Why, she’d only eaten breakfast, and that had been nearly twelve hours ago.

  After checking the pantry and discovering it bare—no surprise there—she again wished she’d let Maria know that she was coming so that she could have given her a list of items to get from the grocery store. Laurel was too tired to go herself right now; that would have to wait until morning, but her empty stomach couldn’t. She glanced out the French doors in the breakfast room to the covered porch and then beyond to the backyard and saw that it had stopped snowing. Although she really didn’t want to drive anywhere, Bell’s Diner was only five minutes away, and her desire for food outweighed the inconvenience of leaving the house. Besides, maybe when she got back, her nostalgia would have passed, at least enough so she could get a good night’s sleep.

  Before leaving, she planned to bring her luggage up to her bedroom and freshen up a bit. However, when she reached the base of the spiral staircase that led up there, the memory of Ashley tumbling down them stopped her in her tracks. Maybe now wasn’t the best time. She could always bring her bags up later.

  Heading out the front door, Laurel tried to push from her mind the picture of the boy she’d loved with all her heart dying in her arms.

  Chapter 3

  Lucas opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. He had no idea what he was looking for, but something chocolate would be good to satisfy his sweet tooth.

  “Sorry, I forgot to get dessert when I was at the grocery store earlier,” Chloe said over her shoulder as she stood at the kitchen sink, washing their dinner dishes.

  “That’s okay, kid,” he replied, closing the door. He still had a hard time thinking of her as anything other than his little sister, even though she was now twenty-four and a broker in the family real estate business with plans to open her own office someday, following in his footsteps. Kensington Realty’s main office was in Burlington, about forty-five minutes away. His dad didn’t mind the drive. Never had. But Lucas’s dream had always been to have an office in the town he’d grown up in, and that was exactly what he’d done six months ago. Things had gotten even better when this house went on the market. He’d had his eye on it since high school when he’d noticed it while on the way to one of the Todd’s annual Christmas parties with Ashley. The only thing missing from his life now was a wife…and kids. Someday, he told himself. Although, deep down, he wondered if that part of his dream would ever come true.

  “So what was all the commotion outside?” Chloe asked, shifting his thoughts back to the present.

  “Laurel’s back in town. She thought she hit someone on the way to Bronson Manor. Luckily, though, it turned out to be a false alarm.”

  Chloe’s brows shot up. “Ashley’s Laurel?”

  He looked away, studying the lines in the hardwood floor. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  “Didn’t you have a crush on her in high school?”

  He shot her a warning look that she knew well, so she changed the subject. “How do you think that you’ve hit someone when it turns out no one was there? Unless the stories we’ve heard about a figment appearing in the road were true. After all, a man was killed there a few years ago.”

  When Lucas looked up at her, he wasn’t at all surprised to see that she had a “told you so” smirk on her face. “I know you believe in all that hocus-pocus, but I don’t.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and started to interrupt, but he didn’t let her. “Before you get all riled up, I was going to say that I agree something weird happened out there tonight. I’m not sure exactly what. Laurel was adamant, though, that she’d seen a man and then he just vanished.”

  Chloe slapped the dish towel against the counter. “I wish I’d seen him.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure you do. I think I’ll go to Bell’s for a piece of apple pie. Want to come?”

  She planted her hands on hips. “Does this waistline look like it needs pie?”

  What was it with women and their weight? Chloe was tall and slim and stunning. He couldn’t remember the last weekend she didn’t have a date. “I think you can eat whatever you want and not worry about it. Live a little, sis.”

  “And this is coming from the man who has no social life and does nothing but work.”

  He shrugged. “I’m hoping to change that.”

  She tossed the dish towel on the counter and turned to face him. “By asking Laurel out?”

  They’d always been close, despite their four-year age difference, but he’d made the mistake of letting Chloe know he had feelings for Laurel and even though that was way back when they were in school, she wouldn’t let it go. Whenever one of his relationships didn’t work out, she’d say it was because he was still pining for Laurel. She knew him almost as well as he knew himself. And now that Laurel was back in town, there was no doubt in his mind that Chloe w
ould be relentless in urging him to pursue the woman of his dreams.

  The best way to deal with Chloe and her nagging was to ignore her. “Are you coming with me or not?”

  “No, I think I’ll do what you usually do and work. I have a new client who wants to start looking at homes ASAP, so I’d better line up some showings.”

  “Want me to bring something back for you?”

  She patted her stomach. “Nope. Remember the waistline?”

  He shook his head and chuckled as he left the kitchen. When he opened the front door, he was pleased to see that it had stopped snowing. After quickly slipping on his jacket and then grabbing his car keys from the hall table, he went out into what looked like a winter wonderland. The trees’ branches glistened in the moonlight, and everything around him was coated in white.

  It was a quick drive to Bell’s. With the roads sanded and new tires on his Land Rover, he didn’t slide once. He did, however, have to admit that when he pulled out of his driveway, he wondered if he’d see a man standing in the road. Of course, that wasn’t the case, and he had to laugh at himself for even thinking it.

  As he pulled into the diner’s parking lot, he noticed a black BMW. Laurel’s? He parked beside it, and before getting out of the car, he ran his fingers through his hair and then checked his appearance in the rearview mirror.

  Sure enough, about three quarters of the way down the aisle, with her back to him, she sat alone in a booth. There wasn’t a hostess in sight, so he helped himself to a menu, taking one off the front counter, and then casually strolled over to Laurel.

  “You look like you could use some company. Mind if I join you?” She was just about to take a bite of her sandwich. Before she could answer, he slid into the seat across from her.