Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

by T. M. Franklin

  “Why did you hire me? I’m not a ghost hunter.”

  “You were hired, child, because I saw the look of her about you. You’re a kindred spirit. You’ve already felt the anger that spread over the front yard. You recognized your encounter with the Major in the front hall yesterday just before I joined you. Remember?”

  The warmth, the feeling of a warm, solid arm around her waist. The scent of man, horse and tobacco. The feeling she wasn’t alone even though there was no one else in the room.

  “Why me?”

  “You, dear girl, will play a key role in keeping the house in the Bradley family. You will reveal the truth behind the legend of Anna and the Major. You, child, will bring them back to life.”

  Ariel froze, trying to make sense of Miss Josephine’s announcement. She didn’t believe in fairy tales or ghost stories. Especially not ones with blood and guts and tragedy. When she read books, she stuck to romances where in the end, the boy always got the girl and they always lived happily ever after.

  So why was she still sitting here, listening to this little old lady tell her she was to be a key that completed some puzzle involving ghosts in a haunted house. How was she to bring two people back to life after one hundred sixty years? No way. Not possible. She wasn’t a sorcerer or spell caster or ghost hunter. She was an orphan in need of a link to her past.

  Miss Josephine has to be bats. That was the answer. No other explanation was possible. How was she going to get Miss Josephine out of the house and to the hospital for some treatment? What was it, Alzheimer’s or just the combination of old age and loneliness?

  She didn’t have a clue. But while she was getting help for Miss Josephine, she might look into help for herself as well. Strange as it was, the more she listened to the old woman’s stories, the more they sounded almost plausible.

  Before she could formulate her next question or sort through ones running through her head, Miss Josephine pushed away from the table and glided from the room. She, at least, seemed satisfied with what had passed between them.

  Ariel rounded the table, intending to follow and question her further. But by the time she’d reached the hall, Miss Josephine had disappeared. Poof! Vanished. Ariel’s mind was still sorting through her earlier statements, so she didn’t try to explain Miss Josephine’s sudden disappearing act.

  The only explanation she could come up with was the old woman was crazier than she’d first suspected. Before she could go to the authorities to ask for help or guidance, she needed proof. Concrete evidence the old lady was bats. Which would be difficult. She had no idea what kind of proof would be required to prove the woman wasn’t grounded solidly in this world.

  Drained and exhausted, Ariel spent the afternoon in her room. Because there was no lock, she shoved the armless rocker under the doorknob. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to keep out, but by barricading the door, she felt certain she would be undisturbed.

  Always a list maker, she began two lists. One was questions about the house and her duties as caretaker and companion. The second was about ghost raising and what to expect on that front. Once she got answers to her many questions, she would visit Miss Josephine’s lawyer and see what could be done to help the old woman.

  When her questions began repeating themselves, she tossed her notebook and pen on the dresser. The pen bounced off the book and fell to the floor, then rolled halfway to the door. Ariel stared at it but didn’t pick it up. All at once she didn’t have the energy to climb off the bed and cross the room just to pick up a pen. Let it pick itself up if it didn’t like lying on the gleaming oak floor.

  Laying back and rolling over, she faced the windows. She forced her mind away from every disturbing question she’d spent the last hour listing. She needed to rest. She had to be ready in case Miss Josephine threw more surprises her way.

  Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe slowly, evenly, filling her lungs, then blowing the air out fully. It was a self-hypnosis technique she’d learned at a free seminar on stress management. It was the first of a series of exercises designed to reduce stress. Boy did she need to de-stress today. From one exercise to the next, Ariel worked through the entire series. When she finished, she started all over again and went through the series a second time. But she still felt anything but relaxed.

  Finally, she admitted defeat. She would not be able to rest. Climbing from the cloud-soft bed, she smoothed the coverlet until the wrinkles she’d made with her flipping and flopping disappeared.

  She pulled the rocking chair away from the door and carried it across the room, setting it back in front of the wide front windows. She eased down into it, folded her hands over her stomach and began to rock. Rocking might soothe away the rough, jittery edges. It worked with babies and small children, why not her?

  “The Major always loved to sneak up here and rock in that chair. He would sit just like that, watching the field hands as they tended the gardens.” The voice was soft, feminine, cultured but with an obvious Southern accent.

  She wasn’t as surprised as she’d been when the Major spoke to her for the first time. Was she growing comfortable with the idea of communicating with ghosts? She knew if she looked over her shoulder, the room would be empty of living, breathing human beings. But spirits or ghosts were another thing.

  Miss Anna’s ghost was talking to her. Should she respond? What should she say? Hey lady, what’s it like to be dead for more than a century and a half?

  She was working in a house with not one, but two spirits haunting it. Wasn’t there a rule about only one ghost per haunted house?

  Was it safe for her to stay here or should she leave immediately? It wouldn’t take long to pack her things back up. She didn’t have much stuff, just her clothes, a few books, and her necklace with its mysterious picture. She could be out of town on the next bus.

  Where would she go? She had no family, no job, no home, not a single thing to tie her down to any one place. Though the situation in this house was hard to believe, she was intrigued. The house and its inhabitants had captured her interest. She wanted to find out more about the ghosts and Miss Josephine.

  Besides, the house needed her. She had a good job with a generous salary and maybe she could uncover links to her family if she stayed. She would focus her energies on the outside of the building; get the house painted, do something about the yard and restore the house to its former glory.

  Once she decided to stay, Ariel relaxed. In moments, she was dozing. Being needed felt good, even if it was by two ghosts and a little old lady of questionable sanity. As she dozed, a cool lilac-scented breeze washed over her. Was that Anna’s signature like the horse and tobacco scent was the Major’s?

  Taking one last breath, Ariel let go of all her worries and slipped deeper into sleep. When she woke, she felt ready to handle anything. Though she was more confident, she still had a lot of questions. “Too many questions,” she muttered as she crossed to the door.

  That evening, dinner consisted of cold roast beef, salad, hot biscuits, and blueberry pie. Silence hung over the room with each woman preoccupied by her own thoughts.

  Only when Ariel finished her pie did she look up. She didn’t speak, suddenly unsure how to broach the subject of her many questions and concerns. Miss Josephine daintily wiped the corners of her mouth and folded her napkin before meeting Ariel’s curious gaze.

  “Let’s go in the living room. We’ll be more comfortable.” Miss Josephine pushed her chair back, springing to her feet before hurrying from the room. She never lost the grace and femininity she wore like an invisible cloak. Ariel followed, trying to mimic her elegant actions.

  Miss Josephine settled herself on a delicate side chair with a grace and posture Ariel knew she would never be able to copy so she settled on the loveseat instead. She forced herself not to collapse back against the back of the couch and cross her legs as she normally would. Such posture would probably shock, not only Miss Josephine, but the Major as well. Primly folding her hands i
n her lap, she waited.

  After several long minutes, anticipation caused her to begin to fidget. Her earlier fear dissipated, excitement replacing it. Certainly the truth couldn’t be as horrific as anything she’d dreamt up. Ghosts returning to life one hundred sixty years after their deaths just wasn’t possible, was it?

  Who would go to such lengths when they couldn’t be sure she’d even take the job? Why? Was this some strange way to pass the long, oppressively hot summer? How long would this continue before someone came out from one of the locked rooms crowing “gotcha”?

  “I should begin by telling you about the Major and Miss Anna. They are the heart and soul of this,” Miss Josephine finally broke her endless silence with a soft whisper.

  Ariel leaned forward, as if the extra few inches would make the difference between hearing the entire story and missing an occasionally critical word.

  4

  "Anna Mae Bradley was a lovely child born in 1832 who grew into a beautiful young woman. By the time she met the Major, nearly every unmarried man in three counties had asked for her hand in marriage. She’d turned them all down, claiming none of them touched the place in her soul that would recognize the man who was her other half.

  "The night of her nineteenth birthday, Anna met that man. Normally nineteenth birthdays for a single woman were a time of sadness, an occasion that would pass without a lot of fuss. They were old maids now, normally not a state to be celebrated. Anna refused to mourn her new spinsterhood. She demanded her father host a birthday ball. She wanted it to be the event of the Goldsboro summer party season.

  "Guests filled the house, then overflowed onto the front lawn. The gentle breeze carried music and laughter all the way to the train station a half-mile away.

  "It was the music that drew the Major that evening. He had been riding into town after a day familiarizing himself with the area. Without a thought to propriety or good manners, he allowed the music to pull him to the edge of the front yard. There he stepped down from his jet-black horse, straightened his suit coat and brushed the dust from his trousers and boots. Dismissing his road worn appearance with a shrug, he stepped forward to join the festive crowd.

  "Edging into the house in search of a glass of punch and a bite to eat, he heard the delicate tinkle of feminine laughter. His heart squeezed in recognition, yet how could a woman’s laughter touch him so? Stepping further into the room, he searched the crowd for the woman who belonged to the joyful sound. He circled the room, hunting the woman with whom he would spend the rest of his life.

  "Men, each flirting and vying for her attention surrounded her, but the Major refused to be swayed. He took his time, working his way through the crowd towards her. He had to meet her. With every step, his heart grew more and more certain. This was the woman for him.

  "There were still several people between them when she glanced in his direction. Their eyes caught, held and suddenly they were alone in the room. She tilted her head, confused by this instant and so very intense attraction that filled her heart.

  "The men around her noticed her sudden inattention to their words. One by one they fell silent. When the Major shouldered his way through the tight knot, the men stepped back, aware that this man was different. With a smile meant only for her, he bowed over her offered hand. That touch sent electricity shivering through the room, causing heads to turn and the matrons in the corner to speculating behind their fans.

  "The Major had asked Anna to dance and offered his arm, their eyes still locked and speaking for their souls.

  "She accepted his request for a dance and the offered arm and followed him to the open dance area.

  "They joined the other couples circling the floor in a waltz. By the time the last carriage turned for home hours later, everyone present had witnessed Anna Mae Bradley’s fall into love.

  "Mystery trailed the Major like a shadow. Some whispered he was a scalawag who was only after her money. Others claimed he’d been born on the wrong side of the blanket and had taken easily to military life. Still others murmured he was sewing his wild oats before settling down elsewhere to pick up the reins of family responsibility of a waiting betrothed and the family plantation.

  "Anna had heard the stories, but refused to believe any of them. She ordered the servants not to gossip about the Major. Gossiping busybodies who came from town to pass on tales and speculation were quickly invited to leave. She ignored her duties as the mistress of Bradley House in favor of spending as much time as possible with the man she’d fallen in love with.

  "The next day, the Major moved from the Goldsboro Hotel into the rooming house three doors down Center Street. He rode his big black horse to the Bradley home each morning, arriving in time for a glass of tea before lunch. Afterward, he and Anna would go off together in her carriage. Folks began to make wagers as to whether the Major would leave town and take Anna with him, or her papa would persuade him to stay in Goldsboro and marry his daughter.

  "Anna told no one what was said during those afternoon rides. Without her father’s knowledge, Anna and the house slaves began feverish preparations for her trousseau. She planned to be ready when the Major decided it was time to move on. She was determined he would not leave town for more than one day at a time without her by his side.

  "They didn’t talk of the past. It was understood that from the moment their eyes met they would go forward in life together. The past held no meaning for them.

  "No one in the Bradley household realized a few of the men in town were growing jealous. These men were possessive of their women, though not one would step forward to challenge the Major’s unspoken claim. All they knew was that they had lost Miss Anna to an outsider and they didn’t like it. That is, until Jarrod Palmer took it in his head to talk Miss Anna into taking up with him instead of the Major. None of the Palmer boys was quite right in the head, but Jarrod had to be the slowest of the lot.

  "He’d decided to make his move one night after a few too many beers in the saloon. There was a fierce storm brewing when he arrived at the Bradley House. He was invited in and asked to wait in the living room until Miss Anna could join him. Instead of waiting patiently like a gentleman, Jarrod Palmer carried himself up the main staircase. He didn’t stop until he had pushed his way into her room. Once there he closed the door tight, scaring the daylights out of Anna.

  "When she refused to listen to his plan, refused to leave town with him, he pulled out the long, sharp hunting knife he wore on his belt. He waved it around, stepping closer for each step she retreated. When she tried to slip past him, he shoved her against the wall with a hand the size of a dinner plate wrapped around her throat. He was wild. He started having one of the spells he had when he was too excited. The arm holding the knife jerked around wildly.

  "When the knife cut Anna the first time, she tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound. His hand was crushing her throat. The jerking knife slashed at her again and again. She slowly went limp, her dressing gown red with blood, her pale ivory skin growing gray. Her glazed eyes filled with fear, then death as she died between one heartbeat and the next. Jarrod’s head finally cleared and fear filled him about what he had just done. He jumped out the window onto the porch roof then down to the ground and hightailed it back to the saloon.

  "In the meantime, the Major was on his way out from town to meet with Anna’s papa and formally request her hand in marriage. By the time he reached the house, Mamie had found Anna. She sent one of the boys to town to fetch the doctor. Then she started chanting. As a voodoo practitioner, she hoped to hold Anna’s spirit in the house long enough for the doctor to save her body. Once the body was healing, she would reunite body and spirit. Only the doctor couldn’t be found. He’d gone to the next county to help with some kind of sickness outbreak.

  "Jarrod hid when he saw the Major ride past. Then he raced to the saloon where he found his two brothers. He started babbling to them that Anna was dead.

  "Others in the bar overheard him and misunderstood h
is story. A crowd gathered and left the saloon. Their plan was to track down the Major and punish him for hurting their beloved Miss Anna. Only Jarrod knew that he was the one who’d killed Miss Anna, not the Major.

  "The crowd, half-drunk and blind mad tramped from Center Street the half mile out to the Bradley House. By the time they’d arrived, they were ready to lynch the Major."

  Miss Josephine collapsed in her chair, clearly exhausted from recounting the history of Anna and the Major. Though the tale remained unfinished, Ariel's imagination took over. The crowd found the Major in the house and put an end to whatever future he may have had.

  “But. Miss Josephine, what do I have to do with them? I’m just supposed to run the house, aren’t I?”

  Miss Josephine’s whispered answer sent a shiver up Ariel’s spine. “You’re here to bring Miss Anna and the Major back together. There are people who would take this house away from us. You’re here to stop them.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Ariel’s words burst out before she stopped to think.

  The scent of horses and tobacco surrounded her seconds before a warm presence settled beside her on the hard, lumpy couch. Heat spread down her entire left side. Was he really so close that she could feel him? Or was it all her imagination?

  Miss Josephine appeared frail, but clear-eyed and calm as she squarely met Ariel’s wide-eyed gaze. Clenching her fists in her lap, Ariel fought the urge to leap to her feet and race screaming from the house.

  Heat covered the back of her right hand, as if the Major was consoling her while proving the truth of Miss Josephine’s claims. That touch of warmth set off a series of internal fires up her arm that spread throughout her body. It was a reaction she’d never experienced before, but she’d read enough romance novels to understand this was sexually based. But a ghost? She’d never heard of anyone being physically attracted to a ghost.