“No. Matt and I are history,” Mia announced.
“How do you feel about that?”
“I’m okay with it.”
“That’s good. I’ve been worried about you.”
“Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m fine. Besides, I’m talking to Josh Keaton.”
Her mother’s eyes opened wider. “Oh, a new boy! Where’d you meet him?”
Their server delivered their drinks, and Mia resumed their conversation. “He’s a boy from school. Jennie and I went to Chickamauga Battlefield last night with a bunch of friends. He was there, and he kind of asked me out.”
“Where’s he taking you?”
“Well, he’s not officially taking me anywhere. I’m going to meet him at Chickamauga Battlefield tonight. He does those Civil War reenactments, and he wanted me to come and watch. Do you think I could borrow the car tonight?”
“Sure. I’m going to stay home and catch up on some reading, anyway.”
Their waitress returned with golden stacks of pancakes and crispy bacon. Mia didn’t realize how hungry she was until the smell of bacon wafted through the air.
“Mom?”
Her mother swallowed a bite of pancakes. “Yes, Mia?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts?”
“I know it sounds silly. But I just wondered if there might really be ghosts. Do you think Dad is a ghost?” Mia looked hopefully at her mother for any sign that she wasn’t absolutely crazy. The image in the photo weighed heavily on her mind.
“Well, I’ve never seen a ghost. I think if Dad were a ghost, he would have talked to me or I would have seen him or something.”
“But you’ve never seen a germ, either, but you know they’re there, right?”
“Well, that’s true, but you can see germs with microscopes,” Mia’s mother reasoned while she waved a piece of bacon in the air with her hand gestures.
“But you can’t see atoms with microscopes, can you? But you know they exist.”
“Mia,” her mother laughed, “where are you going with this? I can’t really say that ghosts do or do not exist. I just know I’ve never seen one.”
“I was just wondering. They were talking about the battlefield being haunted last night, and it got me thinking.” She didn’t want to mention the photo. She didn’t want her mother to worry about her, and if she started saying that she had taken a picture of a ghost, her mother would probably freak out. Besides, there had to be some reasonable explanation for the strange image in the photo. She just didn’t know what it would be.
“Ghost stories have always been attached to battlefields. People love to come up with unexplained phenomenon, like Big Foot and the Loch Ness monster. But I would probably have to see one for myself to really believe it.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Mia dismissed the thought of ghosts from her mind for the moment and focused the conversation on more conventional topics, like shopping.
She and her mother spent the rest of the day together going to the mall and the grocery store. Then, they came home, watched a chick flick, and finished cleaning the house.
Mia was relieved that she had been busy the whole day. It had left her little time to be nervous about meeting Josh tonight. It was warm this evening, so she decided to wear her favorite sundress—a royal blue, cotton fabric with spaghetti straps and a sash at the waistline that tied in the back. She accessorized with silver jewelry and slipped on a pair of silver sandals.
After getting ready, she found her mother in the living room sitting in the recliner, an open book in her lap.
“How do I look, Mom?”
Her mother looked up from her book. “You look stunning, honey.”
Mia picked the keys up from the coffee table. “I’ll be back by eleven.”
“Do you have your cell phone?”
“I’ve got it.” Mia patted the pocket of her sundress.
“Keep the doors locked.”
“I will, Mom.”
“Have a good time.”
“I will. Bye, Mom.”
Mia slipped out the front door and was on her way.
The drive to Chickamauga Battlefield was uneventful. Mia parked near Wilder Tower and soon found Josh standing with some friends as they prepared for the reenactment.
“Mia!” Josh waved and jogged to where she stood. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Mia smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Josh was dressed as a Confederate soldier. War paraphernalia was scattered in the grassy field, including rifles and cannons. Men and women in period dress were everywhere. It seemed each of them was working on a task, preparing for the show that would start soon.
“I have to help get everything ready. Will you be okay until after the reenactment?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to check out some of the monuments around the tower until the show starts.”
“Great. I’ll see you after the show.” Josh turned to jog back to the camp where the other reenactors had begun pitching a tent.
Mia turned and headed to Wilder Tower. She read one of the plaques nearby and noticed a trail in the woods, not far from the tower. Curious, she decided to explore a bit. Once she entered the cover of the forest, the air was immediately cooler. The smooth, dirt path was surrounded on both sides by thick copses of pine and oak trees. Birds chirped noisily in the leafy boughs that canopied the path. Mia followed the trail, enchanted by nature. She breathed deeply of the earthen scent. The late evening sun dappled through the trees above, showcasing dust motes as they floated through the shafts of sunlight. A chipmunk scampered through the underbrush.
Intrigued, Mia followed the path further, her sandaled feet thudding softly against the packed earth. She paused, listening and watching. A blue jay rested on the nearby branch of a great oak, calling shrilly to its mate. She caught sight of a beautiful white-tailed deer, partially hidden by trees as it stood at alert, its ears pointed sharply in the air, listening for the sound of danger. Mia held her breath. The forest grew eerily quiet. The deer nervously twitched its ears. She exhaled slowly. It was such a gorgeous creature that she couldn’t resist the urge to step closer, hoping to catch a better glimpse. Carefully, she took a few steps off the path, working her way through the shrubbery and around the trees.
She paused, afraid of frightening the deer. She thought about what her mother had said about Big Foot and the Loch Ness monster and she imagined that if there were such a thing as Big Foot, this is where he would live. She took a deep breath and stepped again.
Something sprang past her foot.
She screamed.
Her entire body shot backwards. Her foot tangled in the underbrush, sending her crashing to the ground. She caught sight of a squirrel darting up a nearby tree just as the back of her head struck the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree. She lay on the ground, instinctively covering her head with her arms as she prayed the pain in her skull would subside.
“Are you all right?”
Surprised to hear a voice, Mia slowly lowered her arms, searching for its source. A guy about her age was hovering over her, the brass buttons of his worn, gray uniform, reflecting the dappling sunlight.
The reenactment! She promised Josh she would watch.
“I must apologize that I didn’t stop your fall. I was so enamored by your beauty that I confess my reflexes were dulled. Will you forgive me?”
“Uh, yes,” she stammered. “It was my own fault.”
“My sergeant always said the thought of a woman is a powerful thing. It can either keep you alive or be the death of you. I think perhaps I am beginning to know what he means.”
Mia watched him breathlessly as he spoke.
“Are you hurt?” He leaned closer to her, his musky scent swirling around her. He smelled of the outdoors. His dark hair curled gently around his collar. His eyes were the bluest that she had ever seen, cool and clear like the ocean in the Caribbean, much bluer than her own.
His chiseled jawline was cleanly shaven.
“Are you hurt, ma’am?” he repeated.
She rubbed the back of her skull, her fingertips confirming that there was indeed a knot. “I hit my head, but I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“Close your eyes and rest just a moment before you try to stand,” he said, almost in a whisper.
Obediently, Mia closed her eyes.
“Take deep breaths.”
She breathed deeply. Exhaled. Breathed deeply again. She lay still a moment more. “You were right. I feel better now.” She opened her eyes, prepared to thank the stranger.
He was no longer in her line of vision. Puzzled, she pushed herself up on her elbows and scanned the forest. He was nowhere in sight.
Weird.
She hadn’t heard him leaving. Surely, the underbrush would have rustled when he walked away. Maybe she had just been concentrating on the pain in her skull and hadn’t noticed. Maybe he had been in a hurry to get back to the reenactment.
The reenactment!
She slowly rose to her feet, relieved that the pain was not severe, even if the knot was still there as proof that she had hit her head. She ran her fingers through her hair, combing out any stray leaves. She dusted off the back of her dress, pulled on her bow to ensure that it was still intact, and made her way back to the path. She hurried along the trail until she reached the open field near the tower.
The blast of a cannon told her that the reenactment had started. That must be why he had rushed away. It had to be, she reasoned. It was the only explanation that made sense.
Shoving the odd encounter from her mind, Mia joined the crowd of bystanders that were watching the North and the South skirmish on the Chickamauga battlefield.
Chapter 3
Mia awoke at the break of dawn on Saturday morning. She had tossed and turned in her sleep all night. Josh had been the perfect gentleman after the reenactment. The two of them had sat on a stone bench near Wilder Tower, talking until nearly ten-thirty under the cover of nightfall. The night air had been a welcome respite from the scorching heat of the sun. They had talked about everything and nothing—her breakup with Matt, the coming school year, Jennie and Tyler. He had kissed her again, but she still hadn’t felt any sparks. It was her, she knew. Josh was every bit as kind as he was nice looking, but for some reason, she just didn’t feel a connection to him.
It had been a pair of piercing blue eyes that had kept her from sleeping well. Even now, she could smell the scent of the guy who had been in the woods yesterday afternoon. She didn’t even know his name, yet something about him called to her. She wondered if Josh knew him. She had been watching the reenactment, but had not seen the stranger from the woods again.
As she lay in her bed, she could see him clearly—hair so dark it was almost black, curling around his collar, crisp, blue eyes, a handsome face, not quite as boyish as Josh’s, even though he was probably not much older.
She hopped out of bed, knowing that she had to go back to those woods, yet not understanding why she felt so strongly about it. Was it to prove to herself that nothing was strange about the area of the park near Wilder Tower? It was eerie how he just disappeared. Yet he was dressed for the reenactment. Every fiber of her consciousness told her that the only logical reason that he would have left so quickly was to get to the reenactment before it started.
She quickly pulled on a pair of blue jean shorts and a tank top. She wiggled her toes into a pair of brown flip-flops, not caring that they clashed with her black shirt. She ran a brush through her hair, pulled it up into a ponytail, and went to ask her mom if she could borrow the car.
On her way to Wilder Tower, her mind raced. What was she doing? Normally, she was an extremely logical person, but rushing to a park at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning for some reason that she couldn’t quite put her finger on was certainly not logical.
His eyes haunted her.
After pulling her mother’s white, compact car into a parking place near Wilder Tower, she sat quietly, attempting to gather her wits, wondering why on earth she was here. Not another soul was in sight.
She climbed out of the car and walked briskly toward the tower. She paused in front of it, her eyes following the line of the tower up into the sky that had just chased away the last bit of nightfall with the morning sun.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
Startled, she whirled around towards the voice.
It was him.
“Most tourists think this tower existed during the Civil War, but construction did not start until the early 1890s and it was not finished until 1904.”
She was frozen to the spot, unable to speak, but he didn’t seem to mind, he just kept talking as if they had been friends for a lifetime.
“It was named for Colonel John T. Wilder to honor him and his Lightening Brigade. So while many people imagine it a refuge for Rebel soldiers, the truth is it is a monument to a group of Union soldiers.”
She watched him as he talked, watched the outline of his jaw as it moved with each word he spoke, watched the serene, blue eyes as they gazed upon her. She watched breathlessly, knowing that this was why she had risen so early and driven here instinctively.
“Would you do me the honor of joining me for a walk?”
Mia forced herself to answer. “Of course.”
He headed toward a path in the woods, the same path that Mia had taken yesterday afternoon.
“Do you walk here often?” she asked.
He smiled and remained silent for a moment before answering. “Yes, quite often, actually.”
“It’s beautiful here,” she said. “So peaceful and quiet.”
“It is now,” he agreed, “but that hasn’t always been the case.”
Baffled, she stopped and looked at him.
He turned to look at her, then smiled a crooked grin and began walking once again along the narrow path. “It is a battlefield, after all.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. It wasn’t very quiet last night during the reenactment.” She had thought it odd that he was still wearing his Civil War garb. Perhaps, they had another reenactment today, but Josh hadn’t mentioned it last night.
He continued to walk along the path. She noticed that his Rebel uniform seemed much more tattered than Josh’s. “Have you been reenacting for a long time?”
He stopped then and turned to look at her. A slow, sad smile spread across his handsome face. He studied her with those beautiful eyes. “Far too long.”
She watched as he pursed his lips, and she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. “You sound as if you don’t enjoy it. Why do you do it?”
He clenched his jaw and looked away.
“I’m sorry if I said something to upset you.” She went to touch his arm reassuringly and then she stared in frozen horror, her body locked in position as she gaped at him. Her hand had gone right through him as if there was nothing before her but the very air she breathed.
“Don’t be frightened,” he whispered.
She backed away.
“Please don’t go,” he pleaded, begging her with those brilliant, azure eyes. “I beseech you to stay with me, if only for a while.”
The sadness in his voice tugged at her heartstrings. Her feet were rooted to the ground, and she wondered if she could turn around and run, even if she wanted to.
“Please,” he whispered again, watching her face closely as if desperately awaiting her answer.
At last she found her voice. “Who are you?” she whispered with a calmness that she didn’t feel. Her heart pumped furiously in her chest. Blood pulsed through her veins. She stared hypnotically at his eyes, expecting to wake up and find herself in her bed at any moment.
“Private Benjamin Alexander Richards, at your service, ma’am.” He bowed.
She was still here—beneath a canopy of tall, leafy trees. She had not awakened yet.
“Are you…are you a…?”
“Ghost?” he finished for he
r.
She licked her lips. “Yes.”
He paused as if he didn’t want to answer. She cringed, knowing that she still had not awakened and now thoroughly convinced that it was not a dream.
“Are you?” she whispered again.
“I cannot lie to you as much as I would like to have you believe otherwise,” he stated. “I fear that I am, indeed, a ghost.”
She gasped.
“Please do not be afraid,” he pleaded. “I will not harm you.” He stretched his arm out to her, but then dropped it at his side.
“So you’re a real Confederate soldier?”
“Yes. I joined the war when I was eighteen years old. I died a few months later on this very battlefield.”
Mia didn’t know what to say to that.
“Might I ask your name?” he asked.
“Mia,” she answered, relieved that she could still speak. “Mia Randall.”
“Nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Randall.” He bowed again.
“Please, call me Mia.”
He smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his whole face. “Mia, it is.”
“How long have you been a ghost?”
“I died in battle on September 20, 1863, so I’ve been a ghost for well over a century.”
“You don’t look like a ghost. I would have expected to be able to see through you.”
Instantly, he became transparent. “Like this, you mean?”
She nodded her head. “How’d you do that?”
Benjamin explained, “Ghosts, or souls in transition as I refer to them, can use varying degrees of energy, much like a light bulb from your world. Some bulbs burn brighter than others. Souls in transition can be invisible, which uses very little energy, or we can use a lot of energy to make ourselves look solid, like a living person. We call the solid phase, looking alive.”
“Can you touch things? Pick them up?”
“Even when we look alive, we cannot touch things. We can use our energy to make things move. We can even expend a great deal of energy to sort of create a shield around us, which does make us feel solid, but it lasts no more than a minute or two and is very exhausting. I can also emit a glow if I choose to, although it, too, expends a lot of energy.”
Ghostly Encounter (Ghostly #1) (Ghostly Series) Page 3
