“Hello, Major,” she acknowledged in a shaky voice. Invisible fingers squeezed her hand in response.
“Excuse me, child. I’m feeling drained. I believe I’ll retire for the evening now.” Miss Josephine stood and slowly crossed the room. At the door she paused long enough to say, “And no, I am not kidding. The story is the truth and will be played out this summer on the one hundred and sixtieth anniversary of Anna’s murder.” Her steps were barely audible as she crossed the hall and ascended the stairs.
When Ariel woke the next morning, a pale blue batiste dress lay across the chair instead of the jean shorts and belly baring T-shirt she’d left there the night before. Pulling the dress over her head, she wasn’t surprised that it fell to the floor. Obviously Miss Josephine wasn’t kidding when it came to being dressed appropriately for the mid-19th century décor of the house.
After a silent breakfast, Miss Josephine gave Ariel her duties for the day. She was to make sure the open rooms were properly cleaned and then she was to relax.
“Miss Josephine, where’s the phone?” Ariel asked. She was planning to contact several landscapers for estimates on revitalizing the yard.
The other woman looked at her blankly. “Phone? I don’t believe we have any of those in this house.” Folding her napkin, Miss Josephine rose and disappeared up the stairs without another word.
“No phone. Great. I’m gonna have to go out and find a phone, ’cause I just know there are no landscapers within walking distance.”
After checking for dust bunnies in the rooms that she had access to, she returned to her room. Opening the closet, she pulled out the shorts and T-shirt she’d meant to wear that day. Changing clothes, she found her own clothes much warmer and more revealing than the floor length cotton dress. But her clothes were more appropriate for the world beyond the walls of the Bradley House.
Miss Josephine would object, but Ariel would somehow get past the old woman. It wasn’t difficult since Miss Josephine would be in her room until lunch. She simply ascended from the second floor making a mental note of the four squeaking steps. She was halfway across the front hall when the air around her filled with the scents she would forever associate with the Major's ghostly presence. Horses, tobacco, leather and healthy male.
“Woman, go back upstairs and change your clothes. I won’t have you leaving this house looking like a ragamuffin.” He obviously disapproved, but Ariel wasn’t surprised.
After all, he’d probably never seen a woman wearing pants, much less shorts. She wasn’t sure if his angry voice emanated from a specific point in the hall, or if it was only in her head. Was he able to plug directly into her brain to make his displeasure known?
Vulcan mind link, like on the original Star Trek, she thought to herself with a chuckle. How did she explain to the Major that there had been a few changes in fashions and political views in the past hundred and sixty years? She couldn’t think of a simple explanation, so she did the next best thing. She ignored him. Slinging her carryall purse over her shoulder, she headed for the front door.
But the door wouldn’t open. She tugged and yanked with both hands, but the solid door refused to budge. With a disgruntled sigh, she headed for the dining room. Maybe Etta would know the secret combination to opening the door. Miss Josephine was sitting in her chair, enjoying a cup of tea.
“Could you please open the front door for me? It seems to be stuck or locked or something.”
“Certainly, child.”
Even with the two women pulling together, the door remained solidly closed. They flipped the lock back and forth. Ariel even tried kicking it. The door would not open.
“Change your clothes, woman.” The Major’s dark voice ordered.
Instead of answering, Ariel kicked the door again, coming away with three sore toes. Her sneakers weren’t as protective as they used to be.
Finally, she gave in. She couldn’t fight with a ghost who refused to compromise. She returned to her room, changed into one of her own ankle length cotton skirts and a T-shirt. When she returned to the front door, it swung opened before she even reached it.
“Good bye, Major,” she threw over her shoulder as she stepped onto the porch.
Once away from the house, her skin prickled with a wariness of the world as if something had changed outside the grand dame of the Bradley House. The overgrown hedge had become a protective barrier, shielding her from the modern world. But, now she had to go out and face that world. Especially since she was determined to bring modern conveniences past the hedge into the house.
Her first stop was a phone booth two blocks away in the parking lot of a gas station. She opened the yellow pages. There was only one landscaper listed. Picking up the phone, she dialed the number, thankful for the multitude of coins rattling around the bottom of her purse. But the phone rang and rang on the other end. Not even an answering machine picked up. Ariel glanced at her watch and saw it was after nine. Someone should be there to talk to her. Finally, after the tenth ring, she hung up. She’d have to try again later and hope for better luck. For now, all she could do was turn her attention to other, more personal tasks.
She needed new clothes. Her clothes were fine for school, but most had been purchased at the thrift store near the school and were far out of date and beginning to look their age. She needed a mall. She would use what money she had left to fill out her wardrobe and pray Miss Josephine didn’t fire her before her first payday.
Opening the phone book again, she found the mall listing. Berkeley Mall. Stepping out of the phone booth, she entered the gas station.
“Hi, I was wondering if you’d rent me a car.” The young man looked at her like she was crazy.
“How long you need it for?” he asked warily.
“A couple of hours. I need to do some shopping and don’t have a way to get to the mall.” Ariel wondered if he’d believe her, or if he’d call the cops and have her carted away for being crazy.
“You living at the Bradley House?” he asked, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Yes, I’m the new caretaker.”
“Oh, okay. Here, take the Toyota over there.” He pulled a set of keys off the board behind him and pointed to a small, battered Toyota.
“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just park the car back where it is and leave the keys in here if I’m not around when you get back.”
“Thanks so much! I’ll have it back in a couple of hours!” Ariel fisted the keys then left the office.
Driving wasn’t a problem. She’d had a license since her sixteenth birthday, but rarely had a chance to practice her skills. Thankfully the little Toyota was an automatic so she didn’t have to worry about working the clutch and shifting gears.
She followed the attendant’s directions and found the mall easily. Once there she wandered from one end of the building to the other, noting which stylish outfits were in which shop. She stepped into every store to look around, finally stopping for lunch at the pizza parlor. The sign in the window advertised real New York style pizza by the slice, one of Ariel’s biggest weaknesses.
Sitting near the doorway watching the crowd come and go Ariel received a shock when a man slid into the chair opposite her. “Hello, Ariel,” John Robards said softly.
5
“How did you find me?” Ariel whispered. She concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly so that panic would not overwhelm her and send her screaming hysterically into the mall.
“Becki overheard you talking to that social worker of yours. That’s quite a house you’re living in. How about you invite me back to it? I can stay with you while I’m in town.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
“Yes, I was going to come in there after you, only you came out this morning. So I followed you.”
“You can’t stay there. I’m only the caretaker. They wouldn’t like me to have company.” Ariel hesitated to tell him why she’d left Asheville. With his temper, she couldn�
�t be certain whether he would laugh at her or throw a punch in her direction. “What do you want, John?
“I want you. You’re coming back to Asheville with me. Or we can move to Raleigh if you want a new start.”
He leaned closer as if to share a secret, but there was nothing left between them to share.
The scent of stale beer, cigarettes, and unwashed male surrounded Ariel like a cloud of flying gnats. She swallowed hard to keep down the nausea and disgust that rolled over her.
“I have a new start, a new life, a home. I’m not leaving Goldsboro,” she stated in a soft tone, hoping the public place would keep him from throwing a temper tantrum because he wouldn’t be getting his way.
“What kind of job? Pandering to a crazy old woman who believes in ghosts? You’re living in a haunted house, and you’re starting to look like a dowdy old woman yourself.” His eyes flashed dark anger. “No makeup, your hair looks like crap and you’re dressed like a New England schoolmarm. Quit that job and come with me. I’ll get you whipped back into shape in no time.”
Getting whipped back into shape was what she was afraid of. Swallowing back the hateful, hurtful things she wanted to say, Ariel lowered her gaze to her now cold pizza, ignoring the rest of John’s words. “Go home to Asheville, John. I don’t want you here.”
“I’ll be around, little girl, don’t you worry. I’m not leaving Goldsboro without you. I just hope you don’t get any more dowdy-looking,” he muttered as he pushed out of his chair. Crossing the restaurant, to where two men appeared to be waiting for him, he missed the narrowed, angry eyes that Ariel directed toward his back.
She refused to let him drag her into a confrontation. She’d done that once before and had come away from the encounter with three bruised ribs, a split lip, and a black eye.
Ariel forced herself to eat the last bites of her pizza and finish her iced tea. She would not be chased from the mall, no matter how much she wanted to bolt. Running would give him the idea he had some kind of power over her. Which was the last thing she wanted him to think. She forced herself to maintain a leisurely pace as she left the restaurant. Icy fingers ran up and down her back as John’s gaze followed her out of the mall.
Grinding her teeth, she tried to harness her fear and anger. Once outside the mall’s main doors, she kept her pace steady in the ninety-plus degree heat as she crossed the parking lot. Hopefully, Miss Josephine would have words of comfort and a glass of iced tea for her when she got home.
Home. An unusual reference for the old house with its temperamental ghosts and eccentric residents. But that was the only word Ariel could think to call the Bradley House. It was no longer just the place she worked. It had become a place of comfort, a den of security. It had become her home.
Racing around slower cars and through yellow lights, she hoped the police were taking the afternoon off. When the old house and gas station came into sight, Ariel felt the pull of it so strongly she ran the last red light in order to return to the house thirty seconds sooner. Thankfully no one had been around to witness her transgression.
Jumping from the car, she returned the keys to the gas station counter, then ran the last block to the house. As soon as she opened the front door and slipped inside, her heartbeat slowed and her terror eased. There was no reason to be frightened. She was home.
“You’re safe now, little one. No one will ever harm you here,” the Major said softly, reinforcing a peace she’d never before experienced.
The ghost was consoling her? Could he feel the fear that had ridden across town on her shoulders? His voice was chamois soft as it flowed over her and not the steel hard commanding voice that had ordered her into a dress before allowing her to leave the house.
Taking shaky breaths, the bands that had tightened around her chest the moment John sat down across the table from her eased completely. “Thank you, Major,” she murmured.
“Ariel, dear, is that you?”
“Yes, Miss Josephine. I’m back.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping you’d get back in time. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
Ariel followed her employer’s voice to the living room where the elderly woman was entertaining a man. He rose from the hard, lumpy sofa as soon as she appeared in the doorway.
“Ariel, this is our attorney,” Miss Josephine made the introductions. “Jeffery, our new caretaker, Ariel. She just started yesterday.”
“Jeffrey Gaines,” he clarified as he crossed to the doorway. Taking Ariel’s hand, he shook it with a secure, yet gentle, grip.
“Hello,” Ariel replied, not sure what else to say.
Jeffrey Gaines was not what she expected as Miss Josephine’s attorney. Her attorney should be as old as she was. This man stood a head taller than she did with a head full of jet-black hair and gentle, mud brown eyes. He might have been a dozen years older than her. Young and hungry, wearing an off the rack dove gray suit that was too broad across the shoulders. The Tweety Bird tie provided a splash of color down the center of a rumpled white shirt.
She knew from the surprise in his eyes that she wasn’t what he’d expected either. He probably expected a six-foot-tall, four hundred pound, ugly as a mud puddle Amazon. After all, who else would take this job? After another moment, warmth filled his eyes while his smile widened to showcase straight, white teeth.
Ariel swallowed hard, choked, and began coughing. She gently pulled her hand from his. “I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted your meeting. I’ll just go on upstairs and change.”
“We were just finishing up. I’ll need you to come by the office, though.” He picked up a thick day planner and began flipping pages. “How about tomorrow at four? I should have the paperwork ready by then.”
“Uh, sure, tomorrow at four. No problem,” Ariel agreed, then turned to leave.
She wasn’t going to ask what paperwork he’d have ready. Knowing Miss Josephine, it could be anything from her will to some other fancy paperwork necessary to run the house.
Two steps into the foyer, she turned back, catching him boldly staring after her. “Mr. Gaines, would you know of a good landscape contractor? I’d like to start clearing up the yard.”
He looked startled when she caught him staring. He blinked and glanced at his planner. “Umm, yes,” he said, flipping to the back of the book. “Woody Reynolds is a good man. He’s done work around my place. If you’d like, I’ll set up an appointment for him to come by.”
“That would be great. The sooner the better.”
Ariel turned away again. No need to stand around drooling over the attractive attorney. No doubt he was married to some beautiful, well educated, professional woman. One who had her life mapped out and who would never dream of taking a menial caretaker’s position in a reportedly haunted house. Ariel stepped into the dining room, intending to prepare a glass of tea to take upstairs with her.
“Stay away from him,” the Major hissed in her ear, his scent wrapping around her like a cloak
“Why?” Ariel whispered back. She didn’t want Mr. Gaines to hear her talking to a ghost. He might not think Miss Josephine was safe if the new caretaker was talking to spirits.
“Flirting with that man will only give him ideas. He don’t need ideas ’cause he can’t have you.”
“Can’t have me? What are you talking about?” Ariel turned, intending to face the voice. For a moment she’d forgotten that there was no man to glare at for making such chauvinistic declarations. The Major made a sound, a growl of frustration deep in his throat. Ariel felt heat all along her back, from her shoulders to her knees, then the warmth spread across the front of her body to encircle her waist. The Major had wrapped himself around her body and was holding her tight.
It was the most wonderful, secure, comforting feeling she’d ever experienced. This was what she’d dreamt true love would feel like. Too bad she’d discovered it in the phantom arms of a 183-year-old spirit.
She was tempted to lean back into the warm embrace. Or better yet, spin around
and return it. But to do so was impossible. There was no flesh and bones body behind her to hug.
“Don’t give that lawyer fella any ideas. You’re spoken for!” With that brusque order, the warmth surrounding her disappeared, leaving her more alone and lonely than she could ever remember.
“Miz Ariel, wake up! They’s a man outside wantin’ ta see ya.”
Ariel recognized the squeaky, mouse-like voice from her “yes, ma’am” and “no ma’am” answers over the past days. Etta sounded panicked. Rolling over, Ariel tried to surface from the heavy layers of sleep that cradled her. The Sandman’s fingers wrapped more tightly around her, dragging her back under his spell.
She smelled the sharp tang of fresh brewed coffee. Blinking against the brightness of early morning sunshine invading her room, she flopped onto her back and glared at Etta. The younger woman stood next to the bed, waving one hand back and forth over the cup of coffee in her other hand.
“Coffee,” Ariel croaked.
Holding the covers close to her chest, she forced her body to bend in the middle and her head to leave the pillow. Upright, she crossed her legs, wrapped the sheet around her chest and anchored it under her arms. Holding out both hands, she accepted the coffee Etta offered.
The reviving liquid was just the way she liked it, sweet and strong enough to quickly clear the fog from her brain. Downing the contents in four swallows, she focused on the figure who remained at attention beside her bed. Etta appeared panicked that she hadn’t leapt from the bed already.
“Now,” Ariel handed the cup back and crossed her arms over the covers, “what’s going on?”
“They’s a man at the door who wants ta see you. Says he’s the gardenin’ man. I didn’t know we had a garden out front,” Etta spoke so fast her words ran together.
“Tell him I’ll be right down. And could you please find me another cup of coffee?” Ariel spoke as her eyes flew to the chair. The denim shorts and T-shirt she’d laid out the night before had been replaced by a pale blue calico gown covered with yellow and white flowers.
Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 117
