Creighton Manor
By Karen Michelle Nutt
Federal copyright law prohibits this work from being copied, scanned, mechanically, or digitally produced for sale or for sharing except for brief passages to be used in reviews and related articles. For permissions or requests for other uses please contact the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Creighton Manor
Copyright © 2009 Karen Michelle Nutt
2 Edition 2012
Cover Artist: Karen Michelle Nutt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Praises for Creighton Manor
Creighton Manor won Honorable Mention P.E.A.R.L. Award 2009.
“An incredibly heartwarming and fantastic love story that has been magically brought to life by the rich and vibrant words.” ~Amy Ramsey, Midwestern Reviews and Ramsey Reviews~
“There is never a dull moment in Creighton Manor. Gillian and Zach are a wonderful match. They are robust and know how to bring excitement to the pages.”
~Cherokee, Coffee Time Romance~
“Ms. Nutt delivers a wonderfully told story with memorable characters that you can't help but love. As I have found in the books I've read, Ms. Nutt always has a message in each of her stories that is heartfelt and refreshing to read. Sit back with a nice cup of tea and savor an enjoyable, heartfelt read.”
~Missy Brown, Reviewer for PNR Paranormal Reviews~
“A wonderful romantic time travel story that will have you flipping the pages. The characters have personalities that sing off the pages. Readers will have a great time reading this book.”
~Arianne, Night Owl Romance~
“The author takes a well known theme, adds a few twists and turns and creates a well written tale. I especially like the movement between time periods. For lovers of good fiction, this is love story and an adventure story and a time travel story all rolled into one filled with very good dialogue and characterization. Well done.”
~SkyWalker, Ghost Writer Reviews~
Native Americans believe animal guides enter our lives depending on the direction one is headed and what needs to be done to complete the journey.
The main guardian totem animal is with a person for life, both in the physical and the spiritual world. The connection may be shared through dreams, interest in the animal or other interaction.
The dog is a guardian of mankind. It is believed the dog possesses psychic gifts because of their ability to detect subtle energy frequencies that man cannot detect.
If a dog appears in your life, let the animal guide your footsteps. Your life may depend on it.
Dedicated always to Greg, Kendra, Katrina and Vincent, who are my heart and soul.
A special dedication to Tyler Kenley and Cayla Mosier.
…And to the memory of Cassie, the inspiration for the lovable mutt, Molly.
CHAPTER ONE
Gillian opened the hatch to her SUV and tossed her friend’s leopard-print suitcase in back with her luggage. She caught Samantha eyeing her, as she pretended to secure her long blonde hair in a ponytail. Gillian recognized the look. She had endured them all week from others who were convinced she suffered a mental breakdown. “Go ahead, say it.” Gillian slammed the hatch shut and faced Samantha.
“Say what?” She shrugged, her brown eyes widening in innocence.
“Oh come on. I know you think I’m pathetic.”
“Not pathetic. Maybe a little confused.”
“I’m not confused.” Gillian walked to her side of the SUV and unlocked the doors.
Samantha jumped in and turned toward her. “Really, you aren’t confused? I can’t name anyone who calls off their wedding two days prior to the happy event.”
“I’m sure there is someone in the world.”
“Be serious, Gillian.”
She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “I should be on my honeymoon, but instead, I’m taking you.”
“Gee thanks.”
“You know what I mean, Samantha. I never cancelled the hotel reservation aboard the Queen Mary. I took it as a sign that I should leave town for a few days and let the full impact of what I’ve done sink in.”
“What you’ve done is beyond my understanding. You shopped for the perfect dress and planned a beautiful wedding, but then you threw it all away. Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you put Jerry through it, too? He didn’t deserve the embarrassment you caused.”
“Yeah well, the alternative could have been worse. I could have married him.”
Samantha shook her head. “You aren’t making any sense.”
“I know.” She sighed, but she didn’t say anymore. She put the key in the ignition and roared the engine to life.
Jerry Avery worked at Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, a successful surgeon with a bright future. The man stood six-two. He was gorgeous with his sandy-blond hair and naturally tanned good looks. He had a toned body: flat stomach, wide chest, and muscled biceps. To top it off, he couldn’t be a nicer person. For this reason alone, she had to let him go.
Gillian adjusted her rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of her auburn hair that she’d trimmed and layered for the wedding. You did the right thing, she reminded herself. Gillian forced a smile in Samantha’s direction. “You ready?”
“Okay, Queen Mary, here we come.” Samantha snapped the seatbelt into place.
Gillian headed toward Long Beach, deciding to take surface streets to avoid the out of town traffic on the freeway. Samantha’s heavy gaze weighed down on her. She knew round two of the interrogation loomed in her future. Samantha didn’t disappoint her.
“I’m worried about you.”
Gillian glanced at her. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, then tell me truthfully, just between you and me. Why did you call off your wedding?”
“It's complicated.” She chewed on her lower lip, wishing she could justify her drastic decision, but frankly, she didn’t have a good reason. At least, not one that anyone but herself would accept.
With all honesty, she did feel a connection with Jerry. They’d hit it off from the start. She considered him one of her closest friends and she loved him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Someone else stood in the way. Only she hadn’t met him yet. Yes, she knew the statement sounded crazy, but she couldn’t dismiss the dreams.
She hadn’t been brought up to believe in past lives, but sometimes she felt she had known this man before and she would find him again. All she had to do was bide her time. She dreamt about his touch, his voice that caressed her with an endearment: Grá mo chroi. She had no idea what the words meant, but she knew they were spoken from the heart. The words were precious to her, the special incantation to finding him. If only when she dreamt, she could see his face clearly, but his features escaped her once she opened her eyes.
“Gillian, are you all right?” Samantha asked, breaking through her reverie.
Gillian shook her head. “Please understand that I had no other choice.”
“Okay,” Samantha said carefully.
Gillian rolled down her window letting in the ocean breeze. She cranked up the volume on the radio. One of her favorite Rascal Flatts’ tunes blasted through the speakers.
Samantha promptly turned it off. “You can't get out of telling me what’s going on that easily.”
Samantha had been her friend since the fi
rst grade. They had laughed and cried on each other’s shoulders; shared the joys along with the sorrows; and they had disclosed their secrets and dreams.
Gillian shifted uncomfortably in her seat, pondering why she couldn't confide in her now. “You want to know, but you aren't going to like it. You'll probably laugh.”
Samantha raised her hand to her chest in a mock pretense. “I'm genuinely hurt.”
Gillian chewed on her lower lip again, debating. Just confess. Get it all off your chest. Who knows maybe she’d feel better if she did. “Do you remember the dreams I’ve been having? You know the one about the guy.”
Samantha’s brows furrowed. “The dreams with the man who speaks to you in a foreign language? Yes, I remember them and why are your bringing them up?”
Gillian didn’t answer, already having second thoughts about telling Samantha the truth. She never understood how important the dreams were to her. She cringed as she waited for Samantha to blast her.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you called the wedding off because of those dreams! What could you be thinking? That dream-man is a fantasy you have concocted in your mind. It has nothing to do with reality.”
Gillian glanced at her friend, pleading for her to understand. “He's out there. I just have to find him.”
“And Jerry didn’t have someone pick you up with a special white jacket? Good God, do you know how crazy you sound?”
“Thanks, and no, I didn’t tell him about the dreams. I told him I had met someone else.”
“Why did you do a thing like that? There isn't anyone else. The dream-man doesn't count because he doesn't exist.”
Gillian glared straight ahead and pursed her lips together.
“Okay, at least, as far as we know,” Samantha patronized her.
“I'm aware he might not exist. I haven't completely lost my mind. However, if I didn't tell Jerry I had found someone else, he would have wanted to continue to wait for me. I couldn't be unfair to him. Don't you see? He deserves so much more. He deserves to have someone love him the way he should be loved. If I married him, we both would have been miserable.”
Samantha's mouth dropped open with disbelief. “Listen Gillian, you need to make this right with Jerry. He’s good for you. He’s the real deal. Take it from me I know. I have a trail of disastrous relationships behind me with men who have treated me like dirt. So don’t tell me you threw away a perfectly wonderful man for one who visits you in your dreams.”
Gillian gripped the steering wheel, wishing she had just kept her big mouth shut. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
Samantha sighed. “I care so much about you, and I want you to be happy, but—”
“Then be happy for me. I will find the man I am looking for. I know he's out there.” She took her eyes off the road to look at Samantha. “He's—”
“Watch out!” Samantha screamed.
Gillian slammed on her brakes, sliding to a halt as a dog streaked across their path to the safety of the sidewalk. The cars behind her swerved around them as they laid into their horns.
“I believe, I lost a few years off my life,” Samantha gasped, holding onto the dashboard.
Gillian pulled alongside a parked car and flipped on the hazard lights before she jumped out of the SUV.
“Where are you going?” Samantha yelled as she followed suit.
“It’s the dog,” she called over her shoulder.
“What?”
Gillian halted when the dog turned and looked at her or so she thought. “It’s been following me and—”
The dog barked, drowning out her words. The mutt looked to be a mix of some type, shaped like a basset hound, but its ears were short and the coloring a reddish-brown. The mutt barked again, but didn’t approach.
“How strange,” Samantha commented. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the dog is trying to communicate with you.”
Gillian nodded. “The first time I saw the dog was in front of my apartment, then at school. It trotted into my classroom as if it belonged there. It took all I could to shoo the animal out and calm the kids down again. The principal and one of the other teachers tried to catch it, but it managed to slip away.”
“You’re sure it’s the same dog?” Samantha asked, mystified over the animal’s odd behavior.
“I’m sure.” Gillian moved toward the barking animal. She hadn’t gone very far before the dog turned, trotting off in the opposite direction. “Hey, come back.” Gillian started to go after it, but Samantha’s words reeled her back in.
“What do you think you’re going to do? Chase the dog through town?”
Gillian’s gaze followed the animal as it weaved in and out of pedestrians. A part of her wanted to ignore Samantha and find out where the dog would lead her. It seemed imperative she catch the animal, and yet she couldn’t understand her urgent need to do so. Maybe she really was suffering from a nervous breakdown after all.
She glanced at Samantha whose brown eyes were looking upon her with pity. Gillian shrugged and braved a smile. “You’re right. What was I thinking?”
***
As she turned into the parking lot, Gillian fixed her eyes on the Queen Mary permanently docked at Pier J in Long Beach, California. The old ship had started her career as a luxurious ocean liner that catered to the needs of every passenger. Chefs were brought in to prepare lavish dishes to be served in the largest dining salon ever built. During World War II, she transported over 800,000 troops as well as passengers and refugees. In her heyday, people from every walk of life sailed together, enjoying her finery.
Once inside, Samantha headed for the restroom, while Gillian signed the registry. The girl, named Tara according to her nametag, looked up from her computer. “Hmm, I’ll need to check with my manager about this. I’ll be right back with your key.”
A few minutes later, Tara returned with the hotel manager, a short, balding man named Mr. Sommers. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat three times before he spoke. “Miss Metcalf, I don't know how to say this.” Mr. Sommers frowned at Tara before looking at her again. “There’s been a mix-up with your room. We have the Scottish Society this weekend and all our staterooms seem to be booked, except for … well … uh …”
“Really, it doesn’t matter,” Gillian hurried to say. She couldn’t believe it. After they had called her to confirm the reservation, now it wasn’t available.
“Is something wrong?” Samantha had returned from the restroom to join her.
The manager and the receptionist exchanged an uneasy glance. “Do you believe in ghosts?” Mr. Sommers asked.
“Pardon me?” Gillian chuckled.
“Did you say ghosts?” Samantha piped in.
“Yes. I wouldn’t even mention it, but it is hotel policy to do so. You see the only stateroom unoccupied is the one that is allegedly haunted.”
Gillian knew they offered ghost tours, but she hadn’t thought anyone believed they were true accounts. Seemed a little extreme, but maybe this was all part of the fun.
Tara decided to help her manager explain. Gillian had the impression he wished she hadn’t. “Did you know that the psychic Mable Fortescue-Harrison predicted the Queen Mary would know its greatest fame when she no longer sailed? It’s true. The ship is now listed on the National Register of Historic Places. It contains the Hotel Queen Mary with 365 restored original First Class staterooms, and … ” She leaned close for this as if she feared they would miss her words. She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. Her bright blue eyes widened for the effect and her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “She’s considered haunted.”
Mr. Sommers cleared his throat. “Of course we will automatically include the haunted encounter tickets, dinner and the ghostly cocktail in the observation bar, at no additional cost.”
Gillian and Samantha stared at the two Queen Mary employees wondering if they were serious. When no one laughed, Gillian realized this wasn’t a joke. “Sure, that will be fine.” She took the key from the manager a
nd his expression relaxed. “Am I guaranteed to see a ghost?” she joked.
Tara took the question seriously. “Absolutely, there are artifacts from this riverboat, the Ida Belle and ever since we received the items this cute little—” the manager nudged her and she fell silent.
“It’s all in fun,” the manager chuckled.
“Right.” Gillian looked to the manager then to Tara who shrugged.
As they headed for the stairs, Gillian turned toward Samantha. “Did you find their behavior odd?”
“You think? They just told us the Queen Mary is haunted and if I didn’t know better, I would say they believed it.”
She laughed. “Give me a break. They’re just promoting their ghost tours. You’re not scared are you?”
“Well yeah,” Gillian claimed. “And you would be wise not to make fun of the dead.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. Let’s get rid of our bags and head over to the observation bar.”
***
The ghostly cocktail proved to be potent on an empty stomach. Gillian felt a little woozy. She leaned near Samantha, who was talking to a couple they met from Canada. They’d been on the ghost tour before and told them what to expect. The whole theatrical endeavor spooked her, but Samantha seemed excited over the prospect of seeing an apparition.
“I’m going to go back to the room. I want to change into something a little more comfortable.” Gillian had worn her blue sundress and cute sandals to match, but thought it might be wiser if she wore her tennis shoes for the excursion. After dinner, a paranormal host would show them where the vortex was located. Supposedly ghostly activity had been detected there.
“Do you want me to go back to the room with you?” Samantha asked.
“No, I’m fine. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.”
Gillian changed into her designer sweats: The midnight black one with lace trim. It flattered her slim figure, hugging all the right curves. The top had rhinestone buttons and a lace collar. The hem of the top hit right at the bellybutton and the material was soft, lightweight and comfortable. It was a great workout outfit, but fancy enough to wear out. She slipped on her Nikes and was ready to go.
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