Hargrove House: The Haunted Book One

by Allie Harrison

  Susan waited until he left to speak. “That’s what I like—a man of little talk and a lot of work.”

  “Yes, he does get things done, doesn’t he?”

  “He does a good job, too. Mr. Dalton should be impressed,” Susan said.

  “I’m sure he is. He told me he was happy with the way the house was coming together,” Torrie said absently, staring at the doll.

  “Are you sure he’ll be happy with this room decorated for a little girl? After all, he doesn’t have any kids, does he?”

  “Not that I know of. Although I guess he could have a few tucked away with a grandparent or something while he works on this house. I do know he was happy with my idea for this room, and pink sure feels right in here.”

  “Well, I’m not going argue with you. And since I got the dining room finished, I think I’ll head out, take the afternoon off before I start in here tomorrow.”

  “The dining room looks great,” Torrie commented.

  “Okay, I admit, the wallpaper really makes the room, and that Early American furniture that was delivered today doesn’t look half bad, either,” Susan said with a grin.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Torrie had to agree.

  “And did you really find those drapes on a discount, because they sure do match the room perfectly?”

  “Again, I really got lucky, didn’t I?”

  Susan let out a breath and tentatively reached out to touch the doll on the ledge. “Do you want to know the truth? I don’t believe in luck,” Susan answered her own question before Torrie could reply. “I think everything happens because it’s meant to. And well if you hit a sale on the right day, then you were meant to. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be back by eight.”

  “Eight sounds good. Do you think you can finish this room in one day?” Torrie asked.

  “I should be able to, especially since I’m not working through that nook over the stairs. I’ll move my table and everything up here, which will make it much easier.” Susan said.

  “I’ll have a couple of the workmen carry it up for you,” Torrie offered. “And there’s a bath at the end of the hall that now has working faucets even though the new fixtures haven’t come yet, so you’ve got running water.”

  “That’s great. See you tomorrow.” Susan gave the doll another look, and then she left Torrie alone, her footsteps thudding on the wood floor before fading on the stairs.

  Torrie stood in the stillness for a long moment, taking in the staleness of the room that was quickly being overtaken by smells of construction lingering up the stairs.

  “Soon, you’ll have a better place to sit than just an empty ledge,” Torrie said to the doll. The doll only stared ahead.

  “Lunch, ma’am.”

  Startled at the sound of a voice, Torrie jumped and turned to Alice. “My gosh, you scared the crap out of me,” she let out, placing a hand over her chest in an effort to calm her racing heart. “How did you manage to climb the stairs and come in here without my hearing you?”

  “I think you were just distracted, ma’am.” Alice carried a tray loaded with tea and sandwiches.

  “You didn’t have to bring lunch up here. In fact, you didn’t have to make me lunch at all.” Torrie nearly sent her back down the stairs. Then she thought of Will and was touched by his caring thoughts. She also couldn’t ignore the growling in her stomach. “But I do thank you very much.” Absently, Torrie reached out and took a sandwich and took a bite. Soft bread and chicken salad…Delicious. It hit the spot in her stomach that needed to be filled.

  “You’re welcome, and you’re too thin if you ask me,” Alice put in. “You need to eat regular meals, need to get some meat on your bones. How do you ever expect to find a husband being as skinny as you are?”

  Torrie nearly choked on the bite of chicken salad. “What makes you think I’m looking for a husband?” she asked after she chewed and forced down a swallow.

  “Why wouldn’t you be?” Alice asked briskly. “You can’t have a family or children or a home without one.”

  Torrie didn’t exactly agree with the statement. She did, after all, know quite a few single mothers who had decent homes. But she chose not to argue with Alice. The chicken salad sandwich was too good at the moment. “Thank you for lunch, Alice. This sandwich tastes delicious.”

  “Let me know if you want anything else. I’ll leave the tray over here next to Miss Velvet.” Alice set the tray on the ledge next to the doll.

  “Miss Velvet?”

  Alice touched the doll gently but didn’t pick it up. “It’s her name.”

  “How do you know that’s her name?” Torrie asked.

  Alice shrugged. “It seems like as good a name as any, and I think it fits her well given her dress and her bonnet, don’t you?”

  “I guess. She’s just a doll, though,” Torrie put in.

  This time it was Alice who chose not to argue. “I heard you plan to make this room pink.”

  “Yes, I do, starting tomorrow.”

  “Wise choice,” Alice said. Then she turned and headed to the door. In the doorway, she turned back. “I also think you’ve done an excellent job with the rest of the house.”

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  “I’ll be very excited when my kitchen is in working order.” With that, she left. And this time, Torrie did hear her footsteps fade away to the stairs.

  Torrie looked back at the doll and took another sandwich. “Her kitchen, huh? Back to working order? She took over quickly. Do you think Will gave her a key and told her she had free rein of the house, too?” Then she jokingly finished with, “I hate how you never talk to me anymore, Miss Velvet.”

  At half past four, Will found her in the empty bedroom across the hall. “Torrie?”

  With her notebook in hand and her thoughts deep into the design she sketched, she didn’t hear him come in, either. “I don’t know what it is about everyone in this house,” she said, “that they continue to sneak up and scare me. I hope you know CPR when you give me a heart attack. Besides, I can’t seem to move anywhere in this house without hearing my own footsteps. How do you and Alice walk so silently?”

  “I’ll try to stomp next time so you hear me coming,” he said. “What are you doing?” He peaked over her shoulder at the notebook in her hands.

  “Trying to sketch what I want for this room. Unfortunately, my drawing abilities don’t come close to my planning abilities. I can see it in my mind, but I can’t seem to get my hand to put it on paper.”

  “Oh, but it does,” he insisted. “I see this room perfectly. This is a table with a train set on it. Twin beds will go well in here. And these are identical desks. You want this room for two boys, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know why I see that,” Torrie said, looking around. “And I don’t know why it’s coming to me now. I didn’t have a clue until I stepped into the room, and now it’s coming to me as easily as the pink came in the other room.” Then she looked directly at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “I never asked you. You lost your wife, and here I am decorating these rooms for children. I don’t even know why. It just feels right. I should have asked, even though you gave me free rein…” Again, she was babbling.

  He touched her hand to stop her. “It’s all right. I like it. I asked you to take the house to its original place, and that’s what I think you’re doing. In fact, I think the ghosts of the house are telling you what needs to be in these rooms.”

  “That’s not funny. I told you, I don’t want to talk about ghosts,” Torrie put in.

  “Sorry. And, who knows, maybe I’ll fill these rooms with kids some day.”

  Torrie gave him a small smile. “That would certainly be nice, just to fill this old house with people again. It’s been empty and alone for far too long.”

  He put a friendly arm around her and gave her a small squeeze. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  “But, just to be on the safe side, I think I should just mak
e the next room—the third room a plain guest room. What do you think?”

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he considered her plan. Then he offered her a small grin. “Do you want my honest opinion?”

  “Nothing but,” Torrie replied.

  “I think that sounds really boring. And you, Torrie Reynolds are far from boring. Why don’t you wait and see what you feel when you go in that room. Perhaps something different than a plain guest room will come to you when you step into it, just as plans came to you with these rooms.”

  He took his arm from around her, and Torrie shivered that threatened with the absence of his touch. And there was no mistaking the reluctance she felt in his action.

  “But this is your house,” she argued.

  “I still really like what you’re doing with it. And how did you know I have a train set?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Now you do.”

  “But I didn’t when I drew this. In fact I’m not quite sure how I thought the table would be used when I drew the sketch. What do you think of that?” she asked as she closed her notebook.

  “You don’t want me to talk about any ghosts.”

  “No, I don’t. I won’t be able to sleep if you do that.”

  “Sorry. How about this? I think you’re talented and see the potential of a room when you step into it.”

  “I don’t know if that’s completely true, but I do know the idea won’t keep me away and afraid to look into the closet. So where have you been all day? I hardly saw you since this morning.” She knew she was changing the subject, but his compliment sent warmth shooting through her that nearly burned her toes.

  “Busy,” was all he’d answer.

  In the cellar digging, she wanted to ask but didn’t.

  Before she could say a word, he went on. “I came to get you.”

  “Get me?”

  “Dinner, remember? It’s in the dining room, all ready, just waiting for us. And I must say Alice has outdone herself.” He reached out and smoothly took the notebook from her arms before she could stop him.

  “Which reminds me,” she put in. “Alice making my lunch was lovely and delicious, but unnecessary.”

  He grinned at her. “Humor us. Let her feed you. Let me rest assured you’re getting lunch and the job I hired you to do isn’t leaving you hungry.”

  “Really, it isn’t necessary.”

  He tucked her notebook under his arm and took her hand with his other. “Let me be the judge of that. But for now, let’s go to dinner. This is a business dinner, and we have business to discuss, remember?” He led her down the stairs.

  “Right,” Torrie muttered. She didn’t argue that business partners probably wouldn’t hold hands.

  He grinned at her broadly. “You want to keep this strictly business, and I’ll honor your wishes.”

  There was no mistaking his teasing tone. “Right,” she said again.

  “I can’t promise it will be easy, though.”

  “Oh?”

  They reached the dining room.

  From the candles on the beautiful, new table, to the China and silverware that were obviously new, to the wine served in glasses and plates of salad, bowls of soup and roast beef that waited that Torrie doubted was cooked in the microwave, dinner was anything but business.

  “I think Alice is playing matchmaker,” he put in. “See what I meant by it not being easy?”

  “I do see.” She was in awe of the beautiful table. At the same time, she beamed with pride. Her choice of furniture really was perfect. “And she’s trying to fatten me up. She said it was the only way I would ever find a husband.”

  He laughed out loud as he led her to a chair and pulled it out for her while she sat.

  “Thank you. Although it wasn’t that funny,” she noted.

  He took his seat, too. “Why don’t you think it was funny?” he asked.

  Before she could think, it seemed as if her mouth simply opened, and she answered, “Because I almost had a husband not too long ago.”

  “Almost?”

  “Nick Miller,” she said, hoping the beef took away the sour taste in her mouth at saying his name.

  “I don’t know him,” Will said absently.

  “His father owns the bank in town. His family is nothing but a long line of wealthy investors, owners of railroads and things like that, all very old money.”

  “I see,” Will muttered.

  “I don’t know what you see. I know what I thought I saw, turned out it was nothing but a mirage,” Torrie let out, wondered how it was so easy to talk to Will about this when most of the time she couldn’t even let the idea run through her thoughts without thinking her clothes might catch fire with rage.

  “What happened?” he asked, passing the salad to her.

  “I came to his house to tell him about the cake I wanted to order for the wedding I thought we were planning together. I found him swimming naked in the pool with his secretary, Sharon Livingston, that’s what happened.”

  For the first time in over a year, she was able to think about it and actually talk about it without wanting to throw up, cry or throw something. There was a wonderful feeling of lightness in her chest suddenly. It made her smile.

  “Sounds like a stupid man, and you’re better off being rid of him.”

  She smiled at him across the table. “You’re right. Why did you think it was funny?”

  “Because I think you look fine the way you are.”

  “I still don’t see why it’s funny.”

  He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. “Alice didn’t waste any time holding back on her opinions, did she?”

  “I guess she didn’t,” Torrie agreed.

  “And no matter what Alice is trying to do, thank you for sharing dinner with me.” Will still held her hand from across the table.

  Despite her feelings, despite her need to be close to him, Torrie knew she would soon finish this job and go back to her life—away from Hargrove House. It would probably be in her best interest to keep her relationship with him business. Still, she found it impossible to pull her hand away from him. His warmth was like a fire on a cold night. “So what are your plans?” she asked, taking a sip of wine.

  “Plans?”

  “For the house. It’s an awful big house for one man. Will you open it up for tours or something? Besides if I don’t talk about the house, this won’t be a business dinner, remember?”

  “Oh, right. Well, maybe I’ll find a wife, and we’ll fill the rooms upstairs with a few kids.”

  Her heart skipped at the idea of him having a wife and kids—kids that weren’t hers. She told herself she should be happy for him. He obviously had money—he had paid her well and still was paying her well to finish his home. He could offer a wife and kids a great life. What was wrong with her? Why should the idea of his having a wife and family bother her? She was only having dinner with him. She barely knew him. Yes, he was easy to work with. Yes, she was drawn to him. Yes, there was something familiar about him. And yes, she liked him, more than she’d liked any guy in a long time. Living in this house would be an adventure, too. There were trap doors and secret passages and dumb waiters. And, she had to admit, the house looked really great so far. Once she finished, it would be fabulous.

  “What are you thinking that has you grinning like a cat that just finished off a bowl of cream?” he asked.

  She couldn’t dare tell him she was thinking about him. “I was thinking about the two dumbwaiters that run from where the kitchen used to be down in what’s now a cellar to over there.” She pointed to the two closed cabinets. “Kids would have a fun time with those if they were in working order.”

  “They are in working order,” he informed her.

  Torrie was suddenly and completely lost in his gaze over the candlelight. With his dark blond hair, his slightly crooked nose and eyes as deep blue as the ocean, it was easy for her to become instantly lost. He had a scar on his left cheek bone that
made him seem rugged in a gentleman sort of way. Any woman would be happy with a man like William Dalton. And William Dalton deserved to be happy and not alone after losing his wife so young before. She shouldn’t feel any pangs of jealousy at the idea of him with a wife and family. She knew she shouldn’t. In fact, she barely knew him so she didn’t understand why it bothered her so much. But thinking of kids playing in those dumbwaiters—his kids with another woman nearly brought tears to her eyes and Torrie had to blink them away. What was worse and more realistic was the idea of leaving this house and walking away while some other woman walked in and woke up every morning in it and beside Will Dalton. That thought left a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t ignore. And she was sorry she’d asked the question about what his plans might be.

  “So what do you do for a living, may I ask?”

  He chuckled. “You’re wondering how I have so much money to buy this place and fix it up without looking at a price tag, aren’t you?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes,” she had to admit. Slowly she took a bite of beef that nearly melted in her mouth.

  “My father owned several shipping companies, which I inherited And I’m also involved in a few other family businesses.”

  “You aren’t busy working them.”

  “I hire people who can work them. And isn’t communication wonderful these days? I can hold conferences via satellite and web cam. I can keep in touch with my assistant every hour if I want to make sure he’s got all the purchase orders in line. I can e-mail potential clients in a heartbeat. And I can still be at the dinner table with a lovely woman at five.”

  “I see. You make it sound very simple.” Again, she felt his warmth and hoped her cheeks weren’t burning with pink. How did he make her feel like this was her first date or something?

  My father taught me things are only as complicated as we make them.”

  Torrie nearly chuckled thinking about the past year trying to keep her office afloat, and she couldn’t quite agree with his statement. Sometimes keeping a business in business needed a little more give than take or vice versa.

  Before she could comment or give her opinion however, he went on. “But back to business,” he made a point to remind her. “There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”