by SUE FINEMAN
His soft, deep laughter filled the barn. She loved this man with everything in her, and she knew they’d have a wonderful life together.
Crawling under the comforter with Andy, she asked, “Do you want children?”
“Of course, but not for a couple years.”
She snuggled up close, their naked bodies pressed together. “Andy, a few weeks ago, I thought I was pregnant, so I took one of those pregnancy tests.”
He froze. “Are you pregnant?”
“No, the test was negative. I sat in the bathroom and cried, because although I wasn’t ready to be a mother, I wanted your baby. That’s when my feelings changed. I knew I couldn’t settle for pieces of you. I wanted and needed the whole man.”
He kissed her gently, not a kiss of passion but a kiss of love. “You have me, honey. All of me. We’ll have babies someday, as many as you want.”
“Right now, I just want you.”
They made slow, sweet love, and Julie fell asleep in his arms. Andy gazed at her pretty face and wondered what their kids would look like.
“I’m leaving now, Andrew, but I’ll be back for the wedding.”
“Goodbye, Otis.”
Julie stirred. “Tell me he wasn’t watching.”
Andy chuckled.
She smacked his arm. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.”
Andrew Jefferson had lost his life before he could marry Paulina, before he could be a father and grandfather, but Andy’s life this time around would be different. In this life, he’d marry the woman he loved, settle onto the farm, and build the inn he’d designed in 1918, when he was Andrew. This time around, he’d enjoy all the things life had to offer—a beautiful, loving woman, a strong family, a home of his own.
And the inn. The Jefferson Inn. The legacy they’d leave their children.
Thank you for taking the time to read The Ghost at the Farm. Please turn the page for an excerpt of the next book in the series, The Ghosts in the Attic.
THE GHOSTS IN THE ATTIC
by
Sue Fineman
Chapter One
Alexandra Porcini shoved the wedding ring on her finger, tucked her purse under her arm, and strolled into the hotel bar. It was only one in the afternoon, but dim indirect lighting and soft piano music set a seductive mood. She stood inside the door, listening to the music and scanning the room. Her brothers were here with their newest prospective client, a man they expected her to entertain not just for the afternoon, but through dinner and into the evening.
A man called, “Alex, over here,” and she turned to her right. Mario, her short, round brother, waved to her. She waved back and her gaze stopped on the big man sitting beside her taller brother, Antonio. The man’s gaze drilled into her and she knew she was being evaluated. She cocked her head and waited for a slight nod, then walked over. The three men stood, something her brothers never did unless they wanted to impress someone. And they obviously wanted to impress this client.
Antonio made the introductions. “Scott, this is Alexandra.”
Scott took her hand and held it long enough to make her uncomfortable. His hands were soft, with manicured nails and a pinky ring. This man obviously didn’t work with his hands, yet his grip was strong, his gaze unrelenting. This part of her job turned her stomach, because she knew Mario hinted she might be willing to sleep with the man. But she had no intention of having sex with a man she’d just met so her greedy half-brothers could clinch a business deal.
“Pleased to meet you, Alexandra. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. What a nice thing to say.”
He pulled out the chair beside him and they all sat down. He wore a custom wool suit, a white silk shirt and red patterned tie, expensive cologne, and a Rolex watch. Either the man was wealthy or he was trying to give that impression. Mario grabbed her hand under the table and pulled off the wedding ring she’d just put on. She wore it to discourage guys from hitting on her, but Mario didn’t like it. He shot her a look of disgust.
Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her purse. Mario took her phone from her hand and walked back by the restrooms, leaving her sitting at the table with Scott’s thigh pressed against hers.
A minute later, Mario returned to the table. “Nothing important,” he said, stuffing her phone into her purse. She knew he’d turned it off, and from the warning look he gave her, she didn’t dare turn it back on.
Scott’s fingers slid under the hem of her skirt. Cold fear crawled up her spine and she pushed his hand away. If her brothers left her alone with this man, she could be in deep trouble.
<>
Charlie Kane signed the last paper and handed it to the bank officer. He’d just bought himself a house, the brick bungalow his grandparents used to own. Pop’s house.
The woman handed him a key ring with two house keys. “We had the locks changed after the former owner died.”
That was all they’d done to the old house. They didn’t replace the leaky windows or fix the roof, and they didn’t clean out the junk. He’d need at least two dumpsters to clean out all the trash inside. But that was one reason he got it so cheap. The bank didn’t want to pay someone to do the work.
As he walked out to his car, he wondered if he had enough money left to make all the necessary repairs. He could do most of the work himself, but it would take time to get the old house in shape to live there. He might have to wait until the end of the summer, after the corn crop came in. His cash crop. If he had to, he could live with his parents for a few months.
He drove to the house to see if he could put a dent in the work before the dumpster arrived. As he walked up to the front porch, an old woman stepped out of the house next door. “You the one who bought that place?”
“Yeah. My grandparents used to live here. Kevin and Connie Kane.” Pop spent the last twenty years of his life with the family in the house on Livingston Avenue.
She nodded. “I remember them. They had three boys. The youngest played doctor with my little girl and I warmed his behind.”
Charlie laughed. “That would be my father, Donovan Kane. I’m Charlie.”
“Mabel O’Neill. You got kids?”
“No wife, no kids, just a collie named Wilma.”
She shook her head. “Dogs won’t go near that place since the ghost took up residence.”
“What ghost?”
“John Garrett. He died ten, maybe twelve years ago. They said he died of natural causes, but I think she killed him.”
“She who?”
“His wife, Marsha Garrett. They bought the house from Kevin after Connie died. Marsha was a strange woman. Kept to herself most of the time. Months went by when she didn’t take a step out of the house, and when she did, she walked around talking to herself. In all the years they lived here, Marsha never said a word to me.”
Just what he needed. A resident ghost and a snoopy old busybody next door.
“Marsha died a few months ago, and the house has been sitting empty since then. The woman was downright crazy if you ask me.”
Charlie cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I’m having a dumpster put in the driveway tomorrow afternoon. It won’t be pretty, but as soon as I get the work done, I’ll have it taken away.”
“Okay, as long as it ain’t there forever.” The breeze kicked up and she hugged her arms. “I ’spect I’d best be getting back inside.”
“Nice to meet you, Mabel.”
“You, too, Charlie.”
He unlocked the front door, walked inside, and sighed. So much stuff. Magazines and newspapers stacked nearly to the ceiling, knickknacks galore, and junk. Lots and lots of junk.
Charlie started in the living room, sorting through the things left behind, deciding what to keep and what to throw away. The paper could be recycled. Some pieces of furniture were worth keeping, which was good, because he didn’t own any furniture. He brushed the dust off an antique roll top desk and decided it could stay. All the up
holstered pieces were smelly and moldy. The sofa, two chairs, and the beds in the other rooms would go into the dumpster, but the dining room furniture looked good enough to keep.
His cell phone rang. He answered, and his mother said, “You just had an urgent phone call from the Stevens School. Apparently your daughter had an accident on the playground and has been transported to Good Sam Hospital.”
“What daughter?”
“Her name is Taylor, and the woman said Charles Taylor Kane of River Valley, Ohio is listed on her birth certificate as her father. Do you know another man by that name in the city?”
Why hadn’t someone told him he had a kid? Or was this some kind of mistake? “Who’s her mother?”
“I have no idea, but they weren’t able to reach her, so they called the mayor’s office and spoke with your father.”
Charlie raked in a deep breath. He had a daughter? “I’m on my way.”
Still in a state of disbelief, Charlie drove to the hospital and was taken to a tiny curtained cubicle, where an adorable little girl lay on the narrow bed. She had a doozy of a bump on her forehead and tear streaks down her cheeks.
Charlie sat by her side and took her small hand in his. She couldn’t be more than six years old. Poor kid must be scared to death, lying here in the hospital all alone.
“Taylor, I’m Charlie. I know your head hurts, but it’ll feel better in a little while.”
She stared at him with the same gray eyes he’d seen in the mirror this morning. His eyes. She looked a lot like his sister had at this age, except Ginny had Dad’s blue eyes. Oh yeah! This was his kid.
“You look funny,” she said.
“Is there two of me?”
“No, you’re fuzzy, and you have pretty colors around you.”
Strange. This kid was seeing auras, but he’d never seen auras with his head injuries.
Charlie nodded. “Ah, I see. You have the fuzzy headache. When I was nine, I got knocked out on the baseball field. I was pitching, and the batter hit a line drive straight at my head. Instead of the fuzzy headache, I had the headache where I saw two of everything.”
“Did it get all better?”
“Yeah, it got all better,” he said gently. Growing up, he’d had a lot of sports injuries. He’d been injured in Iraq, too, but aside from a few scars and a missing spleen and appendix, he’d survived. This little tyke would be all right, too. In time, the swelling would go down and the headache would go away.
A doctor pushed him out of the way so he could examine his patient. When he finished, he said, “Keep her awake if you can.”
“Concussion?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, but no skull fracture.”
Charlie sat beside the bed again and brushed the soft dark hair off the kid’s forehead.
“Are they gonna give me a shot?”
“I don’t think so, but if they do, squeeze my hand as hard as you can. That way the hurt will go into me instead of staying in you.”
She grinned, and he saw the hole in her mouth where she was missing a tooth. Cute kid, but that was no surprise. She was a Kane. His daughter.
He wondered who her mother was. He’d been with a lot of women in the past few years, but he always used protection. Still, condoms weren’t foolproof.
A nurse came in. “How is she doing?”
“Okay. She’s doing okay. The kid has a hard head like her daddy.”
In a solemn voice, the little girl said, “Grandmother said I don’t have a daddy.”
Stunned, Charlie didn’t know how to respond. He had to have a long talk with this kid’s mother, whoever she was, before he could tell Taylor he was her daddy.
Minutes later, a woman rushed into the room. “Taylor, honey, what happened?”
“Jimmy Morrison hit me with the bat, but he didn’t mean to.”
Alexandra Porcini. He should have known. Sexy Alex, with the honey-toned voice and long legs, youngest granddaughter of Tony Porcini, the man who ran the city for many years. The man everyone called Uncle Tony had been the most corrupt mayor in the history of River Valley. Charlie’s father, Donovan Kane, served as mayor now.
The second Alex saw him, her body stiffened and her eyes held the unmistakable look of surprise. And fear. “What are you doing here?”
“When the school couldn’t reach you, they tracked me down. Why didn’t you tell me, Alex?” She couldn’t deny Taylor was his, since the name on the medical chart was Taylor Kane. His name.
The nurse came in and cranked the head of Taylor’s bed up a couple notches. The kid moaned, and Charlie said, “Squeeze my hand.”
The little hand squeezed.
“Ow! That must have hurt.”
“Yeah.”
“Better now?”
“Yeah.”
Charlie turned back to Taylor’s mother. “You owe me an explanation.” That wasn’t all she owed him, but that would do for starters. Why hadn’t she told him about Taylor? Why wasn’t he allowed to be a part of his daughter’s life? Why had the kid’s grandmother told her she didn’t have a daddy?
“We’ll talk later. Right now, I need to take care of my daughter.”
“If that’s a polite way of telling me to get lost, forget it. I’m not going anywhere.” He wasn’t about to leave his little girl now.
Taylor had a scab on her elbow and a scratch on her chin. Tough kid, much like her daddy. Her hand felt soft, her skin smooth and silky. His little girl. A wave of love swept through him. He’d always loved kids, but he’d never expected to feel this strongly about a kid he’d just met.
Alex stood on the other side of the bed, hugging her arms. She looked ready to cry, and he was too angry to care. He had a daughter, but Alex couldn’t bother to tell him. If the school hadn’t called his father’s office, he might never have known.
Taylor was transferred upstairs to a room in Pediatrics, where she’d spend the night. Charlie followed, and Alex trailed behind. He could barely look at her without resentment welling up inside him. She looked good with the blond streaks in her brown hair and a cream sweater that outlined those luscious breasts, but this wasn’t about her. This was about his child, the little girl Alex had hidden from him.
The swelling on the child’s head was going down already. Charlie had been through this enough times to know she’d be all right. But what would happen when Taylor was released? Would Alex hide her from him again? He couldn’t let that happen.
This little girl might be a Porcini, but she was also a Kane.
His daughter.
Alex huddled in her chair in the corner of the hospital room. For the first time since she gave birth, she felt like a bad mother. Her precious little girl had connected with her daddy, and the two of them were so enchanted with each other, it was as if no one else existed. Only Taylor didn’t know Charlie was her daddy.
She’d been foolish to believe her family would allow Charlie to be involved in Taylor’s life. Except for the brief love affair Alex had with Charlie, the Porcini family didn’t have anything to do with the Kane family, and Alex didn’t dare defy her father. Alex wanted marriage and a family of her own, but Charlie was so unsettled back then, she knew he wasn’t ready for the kind of relationship she wanted.
As soon as Charlie left the room, Taylor whined, “Mommy, my head hurts.” Funny how she didn’t whine when Charlie was by her side.
Alex moved to the chair Charlie had been sitting in and gently kissed Taylor’s forehead. “Is that better?”
“Yeah. Can we go home now?”
“Not yet. The doctor has to make sure your head is going to be okay.”
A deep voice from the doorway said, “And he has to make sure the fuzzy part of your headache goes away.”
“But I don’t want to stay here anymore.”
“Yeah, I know,” Charlie said, “but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. Like when you play baseball, there are rules. You don’t get four or five strikes, you only get three, and you have to run ar
ound the bases before you score. In the hospital, the doctors make the rules, and one of those rules is when you have a big bump on your head and fuzzy headaches, you have to stay until the doctor says it’s okay to go home.”
Alex lay on the bed beside Taylor, holding her, comforting her. Taylor fussed a little, then quieted down and closed her eyes.
“Don’t make her too comfortable,” said Charlie. “They don’t want her to go to sleep.”
Alex resented his interference, but she didn’t want to fight with him in front of Taylor.
She never thought a womanizer like Charlie Kane would be a good father, and she knew he wouldn’t make a faithful husband. With his black hair and sexy gray eyes, wide shoulders, and charming personality, he drew women to him, but he never stayed with one woman for long. She knew what he was like before she went out with him, but he’d just come home from Iraq, and he seemed vulnerable somehow. She couldn’t resist.
Then her father found out she was seeing Charlie Kane and demanded she end the relationship. A week later, she discovered she was pregnant.
With her father so angry, she waited to tell Charlie. And waited.
She’d waited too long. When he looked at her now, his smoky gray eyes were hard with anger. He hated her for what she’d done, or hadn’t done, and she couldn’t blame him. Seeing him with Taylor now, she knew she’d made a huge mistake in not telling him.
The nurse chased her out of Taylor’s bed and woke the sleeping child. Taylor fussed until Charlie held her hand and talked to her. He didn’t coddle her, he calmed her.
When the nurse left, Alex said, “I’m sorry, Charlie. So sorry.” The words threatened to choke her, but she meant them. He deserved to know about Taylor just as Taylor deserved to know she had a daddy.
“Sorry I found out?”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Family issues.”
“What, your family threatened to shoot you for sleeping with a Kane?”
“Something like that.” Her father threatened to have her declared an unfit mother and take Taylor away if she told Charlie, and the rest of the family wouldn’t even speak to her. Alex’s only act of defiance was to name Taylor after Charlie. After the daddy her grandparents didn’t want her to know.
