by Lin Stepp
“But maybe it really did happen here!” Billy Ray waved his fork in excitement. “Maybe we saw that Indian’s ghost, and maybe he doesn’t like anybody to come around where his spirit lives.”
John cleared his throat. “I played all over that ridge as a boy and so did my sons, and Mary Beth, and none of us ever saw a ghost there.”
“We didn’t make it up, Daddy John. Honest,” Billy Ray said.
Ela passed around a basket of rolls. “To be fair, John, others have seen that ghost up there this last year. Billy Ray and Bucky aren’t the first.”
“She’s right, and that does trouble me,” Manu said. “Right now it’s only pranks and scares, but it worries me it might go further.”
“What’s all this about ghosts?” a new voice asked as Neal Caldwell let himself in the screen door.
“Hello, Neal.” John stood up to greet him.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt dinner, but I wanted to drop these soil test results by on my way home. They just came in.” He handed John a manila envelope.
“Have you eaten?” Ela asked.
Neal hesitated.
Lydia got up and walked over to give him an affectionate hug. “I’d love for you to stay if you can, Neal. It’s such a pleasure to see you.”
He smiled. “For you, I couldn’t say anything but yes.” They shared a few pleasantries, and then Neal encouraged everyone to sit back down while he went to fill his plate.
“Have you ever seen the ghost on Drop Off Ridge?” Billy Ray asked Neal as he sat down with a plate heaped full of Ela’s good food.
“No, but I’ve heard a few tales about folks who have.” Neal lifted his eyebrows in a conspiratorial way.
“Me too.” Bucky squirmed in his seat with excitement. “I heard Mrs. Green, down at the store, say she thought the ghost was probably Nance Dude’s ghost come back to get more little children.”
“Buckner Dean Cunningham!” Mary Beth exclaimed. “When did you hear that?”
He lifted his chin. “She was telling Mrs. Klemmer about Amy, the Plemmonses’ little girl, seeing the ghost at Sheepback Knob. I wasn’t eavesdropping or nothing. They were just talkin’ near where you had me putting candy in the barrels.”
“I heard her, too,” Billy Ray claimed. “That’s another reason me and Bucky ran away so fast. We’re scared of Nance Dude.”
Lydia wrinkled her nose. “Are those old stories about Nance Dude still circulating?”
Neal grinned. “Well, sure, and especially around Halloween. Those tales used to scare the dickens out of me—especially the one about her ghost coming out every Halloween to catch kids and bury them alive in her cave. It really creeped my brother, Dean, and me out.”
“Well, you ought not to scare the boys with more of those old fables.” Mary Beth crossed her arms in irritation. “And Loretha Green and Gurlie Klemmer shouldn’t spread tales like that where impressionable children can hear them.”
“Aw, Mom.” Bucky reached across the table to get another roll from the basket. “Everybody knows all the stories about Nance Dude anyway.”
“Well, all that happened in 1913, and that poor old woman has been dead for years now. Who knows what hardship she experienced that caused her to do such a harsh thing to her own granddaughter.” Mary Beth frowned. “She spent fifteen years in prison for second-degree murder for leaving that child up there in that cave, too. I’d say she paid for any wrongdoing she did before she died.”
Billy Dale’s eyes lit up. “So, since she’s dead, it could be her ghost at Drop Off Ridge, Mom. You don’t know. She lived over near Utah Mountain and that’s not far. Maybe her ghost is sad about what she did and can’t rest in peace. Davy’s big brother, Nalin, said she might be searching the mountains for the granddaughter she buried alive in the cave.”
Mary Beth’s face reddened. “I think we’ve all had just about enough talk about ghosts at this table.” She looked around her. “Daddy, I think you and Manu should do a search around the area near the lodge and Drop Off Ridge tomorrow to see if you can figure out who’s doing these ghost pranks on our land. I don’t like my boys being involved in frightening things like this.”
“It does bear looking into.” John scratched his chin in thought. “I don’t much like ghost sightings happening so near our farmland, either.”
“What if that ghost had snatched us or something?” Bucky waved his piece of buttered roll as he threw his thought out. “We might be buried in some cave now or pushed off that ridge and be dead.”
“That’s highly unlikely.” Mary Beth gave them a warning glance.
Lydia tried to suppress a smirk, but John saw it and winked at her. At least all this ruckus over the ghost had helped Lydia’s first dinner with the family to be less awkward. The ghost had become the center of focus instead of her.
CHAPTER 6
The next morning, John and Manu met with Officer Lester Sexton about the ghost sightings of the day before. Lester brought his shepherd dog, Phebus, to help search the area for any clues not immediately evident.
“I guess we really couldn’t expect Sheriff Sutton to come out and investigate a ghost,” Manu said to John, while watching Lester and Phebus explore around the rustic hunting lodge on the Upper Farm Road. “But I lack a certain confidence in Lester Sexton, I don’t mind saying.”
John grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean, but maybe he’ll luck into something. Phebus being here might help.”
The two men chuckled, and then Manu gestured toward the big lodge sprawled under a canopy of tall pines. “John, I went through the lodge myself last night, checked all the rental cabins on the road above, even walked up the hiking trail toward Garretts Gap. I couldn’t find any evidence of a squatter on the property, nor could I see any tracks in the area where the boys said they saw the ghost.”
“It’s a puzzle and that’s a fact,” John said as the police officer reappeared from behind the lodge.
Lester crossed the road to join them, shaking his head. On the pudgy side in appearance, Lester waddled more than he walked, and although not the brightest bulb on the tree, he tried hard and always meant well. “I can’t find a sign of fresh tracks or any evidence of a break-in, John.” He clucked at the shepherd to sit down. “You’d think if all this ghost business was caused by a prankster, it would have settled down by now.”
“How many ghost sightings have you been called in on, Lester?” John leaned over to pet Phebus’s head.
“I reckon three before this.” Lester counted on his fingers. “First one up Indian Creek Drive on the back road that circles under Sheepback Knob. Gurlie Klemmer reported it—heard a moaning sound and saw a ghostlike form as she cut through the woods to Loretha Green’s place one evening. The second came from a couple of men hunting in the ridge area, across the creek from your place. Next, the Plemmons came down to the police department in Maggie, all torn up ’cause their little girl Amy got near scared to death seeing the ghost while playing by Indian Creek.” Lester turned to look down the road in that direction. “That was less than a quarter mile from here, John, and now your boys say they saw the ghost on this side of the creek. Sure can’t figure what to think of all this.”
“The boys also told us that Alo Youngblood’s wife, Reena, saw the ghost,” Manu added.
Lester scowled. “Well, she didn’t report it. But then, that family stays close to itself. They don’t step out much—probably in part from living on Silas Green’s land. He’s a hard man to work for.” Lester rubbed a boot in the dirt. “Used to beat up on his own girls, I hear. Didn’t surprise us none when them girls took off soon as they grew up.”
“Twisted man.” Manu spit in disgust at this news. “Ela says his wife, Loretha, is real glad every time he goes away traveling with his farm equipment sales. Guess there’s no love lost there.”
John brought them back to the subject. “Has the police department found any clues or information about who they think is behind these ghost tricks?”
Les
ter shook his head. “Nope. We go out and look, but we don’t find nothin’—just like here.” He pulled a notebook from his pocket. “Either of you think of anything else I need to write down before I go?”
“No. I think we already told you everything.” John followed Lester to his police car, shutting the door after he and the dog climbed in. “Thanks for coming, Lester. Let us know if you learn anything more.”
He and Manu watched Lester drive away. “Guess we didn’t learn much from that visit,” John said.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Manu pushed his hat back on his forehead. “We learned the names of the folks who reported the other ghost sightings, and we learned that all the sightings happened in this general vicinity above the Drop Off ridgeline. It’s not like ghosts are popping up all over Maggie Valley. Just here around the creek, ridge, and knob.”
“And?” John raised an eyebrow.
“And it’s something to keep an eye on.” Manu looked down the road toward the creek. “I think I’ll do a little exploring on the other side of Indian Creek, if you don’t mind—go talk to some of the folks Lester mentioned. Maybe stop by the Youngbloods’ place, too. See if I can learn anything more. It’s my guess the police department won’t do much about a couple of ghost sightings unless property damage or violence is involved. I’d personally like to get to the bottom of this before anything like that happens.”
“I agree.” John nodded. “I’ll ask around when I go into town today. See what I can find out at the local spots. Maggie’s a small place—there’s bound to be talk.”
A few hours later, John found himself flagged down by Tolley Albright as he pulled into the parking lot of the Maggie Valley Restaurant. “Going in for lunch, John?” Tolley asked.
John glanced down at his watch. “Guess I could if I thought I’d have some good company.” He grinned at his longtime friend.
“Well, let’s do it. I hear country-fried steak is on the menu today and that it’s real good.” Tolley patted his ample girth.
The two men soon sat at a table by the window with two plates of food before them. As they ate, John filled Tolley in on the ghost sightings and what he’d learned about them while poking around downtown.
“Gossip is really spreading about this ghost, Tolley.” John cut a bite of his steak and then forked it up with a mound of mashed potatoes.
“People love something like this to talk about.” Tolley paused between bites. “But it’s adding up to more than talk now. One of my clients who owns rentals in that area is complaining about profits falling off. This business might affect my realty sales—and your lodge and cabin rental business, too—if an end doesn’t come to it soon.”
“I’m more worried about someone getting hurt.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Tolley plunged into a new subject. “Hey, Rebecca told me Lydia’s back, and she wants us all to get together one night. I bet the Alexanders will feed the four of us free barbecue at the Cataloochee Ranch tonight if we’ll clog a little and entertain the guests. I hear they’ve got a big group staying there this weekend.” He wiggled his eyebrows at John. “Free dinner date for a little dancing—just like old times. What do you say?”
John drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m not sure if Lydia will go, Tolley. There’s a lot of old angst floating between us.”
Tolley mopped up the last of his gravy with his roll. “Well, dancin’ might help to work some of that out. You know how much Lydia used to love clogging up at the ranch. I’ll bet you can talk her into it. Just show up later on at her place carrying that red cowboy hat and her red dancing shoes. Tell her Rebecca and I and the Alexanders are counting on her coming.”
John hesitated.
Tolley smoothed a hand over his bald head before scratching his short beard, where most of his hair seemed to have migrated. “Come on, John. You gotta create ways to get this woman back in your life. You and I both know you’ve never gotten past her, not even dated another woman all these years. Take a chance, man. This used to be something the two of you liked doing together.”
By the time he and Tolley parted, they’d called the Alexanders to arrange to clog for their Friday night outdoor barbecue, and now John stood at Lydia’s door, mustering up the courage to ask her out. He knocked and she opened the door after a few minutes.
“John?” she asked. He watched her eyes drift over his red, white, and blue cowboy shirt, and then down his jeans-clad legs to his red cowboy tap shoes.
A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “Well, it’s been a long time since I saw you in that costume.”
“The Alexanders need some cloggers to entertain the guests tonight after the outdoor barbecue. They’ve got a big crowd in. Tolley and Rebecca asked us to come along with them.”
He handed her the bag he’d held behind his back. Her eyes widened as she rummaged in it, seeing her old red tap shoes, the matching cowboy shirt to his, and a red cowboy hat on top.
She started shaking her head slowly. “John, I haven’t done this in a long, long time.”
“It’s like riding a bike,” he said. “You never forget what to do.”
“Listen, it’s nice of you to ask me—”
He stopped her. “It was Tolley and Rebecca who set this up. They wanted to do something special with you home to the valley. Tolley called and set everything in place, then asked me to come by and pick you up. A number of old friends will be at the ranch tonight—all glad to see you again. The Cross-Creek Boys with their pickin’-and-singing group, the Aldridges, the Alexanders. Probably a few others helping with the barbecue.” He paused. “I figure you can tolerate my company for a night in order to make a lot of old friends happy.”
She held the door open. “You have a persuasive way of pulling me back into the past, John Parker Cunningham.”
He followed her inside. “I’d like to leave much of the past in the past and walk out into the future with you instead. Find some happier times together.”
She turned her green eyes to his. “This isn’t a date, John. It’s a get-together with old friends.”
He nodded, deciding not to push his luck further.
“Okay. I’ll go get ready,” she said, taking the bag and heading toward the back bedroom.
“Whew.” John heaved a sigh of relief when she left, pleased she’d actually agreed to go.
A happy evening began after that. Lydia filled out her cute cowboy shirt and snug jeans as sweetly as John remembered. And after a few awkward moments, she moved with skill and ease into the remembered double toe ball, heel ball, heel step movements of clogging that had always been such a pleasure to both of them.
“Come on, liven it up,” Tolley called beside them, where he and Rebecca danced in colorful matching outfits of their own. “Let’s add in some slides, kicks, and stomps now. Whoo-eee!”
“You slow down, Tolley Aldridge!” Lydia warned. “I haven’t done this in a very long time.”
“Ah, you’re a pro. Look at you.” He grinned, moving into a hop-double hop movement to the rhythm of the Cross-Creek Boys. “We’re all dancing about as fine tonight as that Maggie Valley clogging champion, Burton Edwards.”
Lydia laughed, kicking at him in fun as she and John danced around the other couple in a well-remembered movement, their heels tapping on the concrete floor with clean, sharp sounds.
After several numbers, the four friends sat at a picnic table recuperating and working on a big plate of pit-smoked barbecue and fixin’s.
Lydia looked out across the night and sighed. “I’d forgotten how much fun this can be and how beautiful it is here on Fie Mountain. It’s like being on top of the world.”
“We’re at five-thousand-feet elevation here, and come wintertime skiers will be zooming down those slopes nearby.” Tolley gestured behind him.
Rebecca smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze Lydia’s hand. “I’m so glad you could come tonight. It’s like old times, the four of us dancing together again. I ha
ven’t had this much fun in a month of Sundays.”
One of the Alexanders came by carrying a plate of food. “Eat all you want, folks, and don’t be backward about it,” he said, winking and joking. “We got plenty and it’s shore good.”
“That goof,” Rebecca said. “Did you know this ranch is in its third generation now? And growing more beloved every year? The lodge is still warm and inviting, serving those wonderful family-style meals, all the cabins rustic and cute, and there’s always something to do here—horseback riding, wagon rides, swimming, croquet, fishing in the lake, great entertainment, or hiking up to the Cataloocheee Divide Trail.” She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I read that Cataloochee means ‘wave upon wave’—like the waves of blue mountain peaks rolling away in the distance there.”
Tolley laughed. “You’re starting to sound like those tourist flyers we give away at the realty office, Becca.”
“Oh, hush. I’m simply havin’ a good time. And I can wax poetic if I want to.” She punched at him playfully, then leaned over to kiss him, making John envious. “You know you love me just the way I am, Tolley Aldridge.”
The evening flew by, John enjoying every minute with Lydia and their friends. She greeted their old acquaintances with warmth and affection and talked with humor and interest to the visiting tourists.
Vance Coggins, the lead singer of the Cross-Creek Boys, dropped by to give Lydia a kiss during a short break.
“Wish you’d have brought Mary Beth to sing a number or two with us,” he said to John. “She’s got a fine voice.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.” John clapped him on the back with affection.
“Is Mary Beth still singing?” Lydia asked, after Vance walked away.
John nodded. “Yes. She sings around the valley with bands like Cross-Creek sometimes, occasionally for weddings, and always at church in the choir on Sundays. Will you come to church to hear her?”
