Uncle Mark paused. For a really… long… time.
“What happened?” I finally urged, anxious to know.
“Like so many tragedies before and after, this one’s about a girl. Her name was Sarah Williams, and she was extraordinarily beautiful.”
“What did she look like?” whispered Doreen.
“Just like you,” Uncle Mark said.
Doreen blushed shyly.
“She had beautiful curly blond hair and blue eyes, and was kind and sweet,” he said, smiling towards Doreen. “No one remembers where she was from, or how she came to be here alone. Delevan’s parents were concerned about their son’s interest in this stranger. At the time, social order and caste were considered extremely important, and the Bannermans considered themselves akin to royalty. But that did not deter Delevan. He was in love.
“After Miss Sarah’s introduction to the Bannerman family, Miles traveled west to handle some of the family’s business affairs. They were extremely wealthy, including ownership of several gold mines. When Miles returned, his parents were away for the afternoon. He went straight to Delevan’s room to discuss the business he transacted. What he found, was a letter from Delevan to the family, informing them that he and Sarah were on their way to elope. Miles was extremely upset. He rushed out of the house, taking his revolvers with him.”
Uncle Mark paused for effect. Again.
What is with this man and his theatrics!
“And?” said Mom.
“Their little sister found the note, and showed it to Mr. and Mrs. Bannerman when they returned a few hours later. She also told them Miles was back, and that he’d run after Delevan. They were upset by the news of the elopement, but it was nothing to how they would feel soon after.”
Uncle Mark paused dramatically, once more.
Just tell the story already!
“What happened?” exclaimed Mom.
“Shortly after, Sarah rushed back to the house, hysterical. She finally managed to say that as she and Delevan followed the path in the woods toward town, Miles caught up with them.”
This man and his pauses! He’s killing me, here!
“Then what happened?” I asked impatiently.
“He said he was in love with Sarah. He was determined to have her, and he would fight for her, if he had to. He didn’t take into account that Sarah loved his brother. He never met a girl who would refuse him, and expected her to be just as glad of his attention as the others. The brothers got into a heated argument. Miles drew his gun, and so did Delevan. Miles fired, and in self-defense, Delevan returned fire. The bullets met their mark, and both brothers were killed.”
“Oh, that is just horrible!” choked Doreen.
“My goodness!” said Mom, utterly horrified.
“What a waste of life,” Dad shook his head grimly.
My fists were pressed against my mouth. I could not believe the guy with the laughing eyes in the portrait would do such a horrible thing. He just couldn’t. I felt sick.
“The Bannermans were devastated. They were a proud family, and refused to accept Sarah’s story. But she was the only witness, and the evidence supported her account.”
“What… happened to Sarah?” asked Doreen.
“Crushed with grief, and blaming herself for coming between the two brothers, Sarah sailed for Europe as she and Delevan planned to do as a married couple. The ship was lost at sea, and she was never heard from again.”
“Oh, how—how—horrible!” said Doreen, near tears. “That is just... awful!”
“So terribly sad,” said Mom, with a frown.
“What a terrible waste of life! So unnecessary and preventable!” exclaimed Dad irritably.
I was silent, torn between horror and disbelief.
“The ghost of Miles Bannerman is said to wander the estate, seeking forgiveness he will never find. He could have any girl he wanted, but instead he would only be satisfied with the one girl who loved his brother. He had such a bright future, and he threw it away, and destroyed the happiness of so many others in the process.
“Over the years, many strange things have been seen and heard at the castle. I spoke with a fellow who did some work for the estate a few years ago, when the family still lived there, and before it was abandoned. He saw for himself a set of paw prints on the floor. That wouldn’t be unusual, except… Miles’ dog was the last to set foot on the estate. She disappeared the day he died, and was never seen again.”
I felt a chill like an electric shock travel down my spine.
“Rumor has it, that the ghosts of Miles and his dog, may be searching for the family treasure which disappeared around the same time, hoping to use it to pay penance for the murder of his brother,” Uncle Mark finished.
Apparently, the rest of the family was as speechless as I was.
Seeing that his story had fallen horribly flat, in an effort to redeem the situation Uncle Mark said feebly, “I’m sure there are lessons we can take from this…”
“Yeah,” said Doreen thoughtfully. “Marry an only child.”
Chapter 2
Monday morning before lunch, Mom asked me to run an errand for her.
“It doesn’t matter what I do or what kind of list I make, I always forget something when I’m at the store,” she said cheerfully.
I was glad to have a reason to go to town. It was the coolest place, there were so many little shops with such interesting windows to browse. We were still getting back on our feet with Dad having been out of work for so long, and I no longer had my job, but it didn’t cost anything to look.
There were boutiques with unique purses and clothing, home décor items, and toys. Books, a bakery which smelled painfully delicious, and a chocolate shop which I would really like to become better acquainted with some day! There was even an old-fashioned drug store, with a soda fountain. All the shops and other buildings looked as though they were from another time.
Cabins dotted the surrounding mountains. Smoke curled from chimneys and I breathed in the scent of the juniper fed fires. The moisture from yesterday’s storm gave quite a bite to the air, and I zipped my jacket with a shiver and shoved my hands in my pockets. I was very glad I didn’t walk to town as I first intended.
“Good morning Anika, how are you today?” Susan, the owner of the grocery store, greeted me as I walked in.
“Great, and how are you?” I was struck once again by the friendliness of everyone I met here. It was a welcome change.
“Just wonderful,” Susan replied. “And how’s your family?”
“Doing pretty good,” I said, not sure how much detail to go into.
“How about your sister?” asked Susan, a shadow of concern and sympathy crossing her face.
“About the same, I guess.”
“Well… we’re praying for your sister, and that you’ll find the right doctor. Glen Haven’s got some good ones.”
“Thanks, Susan. That means a lot,” I said.
A customer wheeled a loaded cart to the register, so I moved along with my shopping list.
Mission accomplished and back in the car once again, I looked at a map of the area on my iPhone.
My part-time job made it possible to keep our cell phones up and running while Dad was out of work. We needed to be able to communicate somehow, and I was glad I could help that way, and with the cost of feeding my big dog. I was so thankful to find I still had a signal after we moved here. Being in the mountains, there were dead spots here and there, but for the most part, we had surprisingly good coverage.
I felt haunted by Uncle Mark’s story, and spent most of the weekend dwelling on it. I couldn’t get the castle and the story off my mind. If there was a road that went past the estate, I wanted to drive by and see it again. I felt drawn to it. I was pleased to see that the alternate route my iPhone displayed wouldn’t take me that far out of the way. I’d easily be home in time for lunch.
Like all the roads in this mountain area, the way to the castle wound through the for
est, where trees grew thick on both sides. There were mostly pine, but now and then the gorgeous red of an oak and golden leaves of a birch tree made an appearance. I loved driving here. The roads were more twisty and narrow than I was used to, but the view was worth it, and who’d want to drive so fast they couldn’t enjoy it, anyway.
I was startled out of my appreciation of the scenery around me, when I saw an elderly woman at the side of the road. She was hunched over, leaning heavily on a cane. She didn’t seem aware of the approaching car, or much else.
I pulled over as far as I could, and parked. I knew better than to stop for a random stranger, but this was a tiny little elderly lady, in obvious distress. She could seriously die out here.
I switched off the vehicle and pocketed the key, then climbed out of the car. My hand was on the pepper spray in my pocket, as I looked around for signs of trouble. I didn’t see any.
“Are you okay?” I asked, as I cautiously approached the woman.
She looked up at me, tears in her eyes.
“No, my dear… I can’t say that I am.”
“Well... can I help you? I don’t think you should be here on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere,” I said with concern.
“I don’t believe anyone can help me,” she said despairingly, as she swayed, losing her balance. I reached out and steadied her, and was alarmed to find that her skin felt like ice.
“You can’t stay out here,” I said decisively.
She didn’t respond, and I didn’t know what to do. But, that never stopped me before. Why should it this time!
I ripped off my jacket and put it around her, then guided her to the car.
“Here…” I said, opening the door and helping her inside. “We’ll get this figured out.”
As I hurried around to the driver’s side, I hoped this wouldn’t be considered kidnapping. Or elderly-lady-napping.
I cranked the heat full blast and turned around, then headed back to the cabin. The castle would just have to wait.
I pulled into the driveway and leaped out of the car with a glance toward the cabin, then helped the little old woman climb out. As we slowly made our way up the walk, the front door flew open and Mom hurried out.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked, putting her arm around the woman to support her from the other side. “What happened?”
“This lady seems to be in trouble, she was alone at the side of the road a couple of miles outside of town. She’s freezing, and needs help. I didn’t know what else to do, Mom.”
“Okay,” said Mom, getting a handle on the situation. “Let’s get you inside,” she said to the woman.
We seated her in the nearest recliner. Tears still ran down her cheeks, though she was no longer sobbing. Mom grabbed a blanket off the arm of the chair, and wrapped it around her. Doreen, curled up on the couch, watched with wide eyes.
“She’s so cold. Get her a cup of tea, quick, Anika,” Mom said, as she reached for another blanket. “There’s hot water already on the stove.”
I quickly prepared the tea, tempered it with cold water, and hurried back to the living room. Mom took the mug and wrapped the woman’s hands around it. The warmth must have been a relief, some of the tightness left her face. After a couple of minutes, she slowly began to sip the tea.
I didn’t realize how pale she was until faint color began to stain her cheeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath.
“I’m feeling a little better,” she said weakly.
“You were freezing cold,” I said. “No wonder you felt bad.”
“Are you hungry? We were just about to have lunch,” Mom told her.
The woman considered that, and nodded.
“That would be lovely, dear.”
“Anika, could you...” Mom indicated the kitchen, then to the woman she said, “You just stay put. Anika will bring your lunch in here.”
I snatched a bowl off the counter, and filled it with the potato soup waiting on the stove. My mind raced to remember where I saw the folding tray tables, and dragged one out of the front closet. I handed it to Mom, then the bowl of soup.
Tryon was in the kitchen, helping himself to one of the cheese sandwiches on the platter next to the stove. I sat him quickly at the table.
“Who’s that?” he wanted to know, looking toward the recliner and the little woman sitting there.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure she’ll tell us when she feels like it.”
“Okay,” Tryon said, getting back to his sandwich. I squeezed his little shoulders and kissed the top of his curly blond head quickly, as I passed by on my way back to the living room portion of the room.
I was glad to see the woman continued to look better, as she ate and drank her tea. I fixed Doreen a bowl and brought her a tray, then Mom. I was too interested in whatever was going on with this little lady, to eat.
“Thank you,” the little lady said, as she finished her soup. “I was terribly foolish to walk so far. I forget sometimes that I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“We haven’t exactly introduced ourselves yet,” Mom said. “I’m Samantha Riley, and these are my daughters Anika and Doreen, and my son Tryon.”
The little woman smiled.
“It is very nice to meet you all. My name, is Polly Bannerman.”
Polly Bannerman! My eyes widened in astonishment.
“I’m very glad to meet you, Mrs. Bannerman,” said Mom.
“Polly is just fine, dear,” she said. “That’s what I prefer my friends to call me, and you’ve certainly shown friendship towards me today.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I managed to say. I was still in shock, realizing who it was that I picked up by the side of the road.
Doreen mumbled a greeting. She wasn’t having a good day, and her eyes were heavy. Given another minute, she’d be asleep again. Tryon waved his sandwich in the air, his mouth stuffed full.
“I do greatly appreciate the kindness you’ve shown me. I should’ve known better than to go off walking like that. I was just so upset…” Polly paused, and a shadow crossed her face. She continued tremulously, “I didn’t take time for breakfast this morning, and with the exercise I must have been a bit hypoglycemic. Thank you for stopping to help me.”
“Of course,” I said, wondering what upset her.
“Is there anything else we can do for you?” asked Mom, her eyebrows knit with concern. “You… said you were upset.”
Polly looked thoughtful. She glanced away, then back at Mom and me. Chip padded into the room and sat beside her, and she patted him absentmindedly.
“Oh, I hate to burden you with my problems… everything is just so complicated. My grandson is missing, that’s my primary concern. He spent the past three years boarding at an academy on the other side of the country. When he graduated last spring, he decided to spend the summer traveling, before starting college in the fall. He hasn’t been heard from in four months.”
“No one’s heard from him?” I asked in surprise.
“No dear, no one has,” said Polly, her eyes filled with worry.
“If he’s been traveling… Is it possible he doesn’t realize how it would worry you not to hear from him?” asked Mom.
“Yes, that could be the case. He never arrived at college however, and classes began last month. He was looking forward to attending, so his absence is greatly concerning. There are additional issues as well. When my son and his wife were killed in an accident five years ago,” Polly used her napkin to blot her eyes, “I was appointed guardian of my grandson Miles, and of the Bannerman estate, to be held in trust. On Miles’ twentieth birthday, he is to receive his inheritance. All rights and responsibilities as trustee and beneficiary of the Bannerman estate, will be transferred to him.”
I refilled Polly’s mug with more hot tea, as she talked.
“Thank you, dear,” she said. “He may appear on time, ready to assume his place as trustee. But as he is currently unaccounted for, a distant cousin is seeking legal
means to seize the estate, should Miles fail to return and take possession himself. I’ve no idea how this cousin, Alfred Sullivan, even found out that Miles is missing. But somehow, he knows. He intends to turn the House of Bannerman into a resort. I’m not against tourism, or honestly—even of the whole resort concept, maybe a museum, if that’s what Miles wanted. Alfred however, if he succeeds in being named trustee, intends to market his resort by capitalizing on a family tragedy that occurred over a century ago, and I have a very big problem with that.”
She looked grim and a little fierce, and Mom and I waited for her to continue.
“Perhaps you’ve heard the story of Miles and Delevan Bannerman?” She questioned, as Mom and I nodded. “Well, Alfred is responsible for that, I’m sure. The story that’s been told over the years, has never been accepted by the family, however. Miles’ and Delevan’s parents and siblings adamantly refused to believe it. They felt there was evidence to the contrary, but could never offer another explanation for what occurred. The Bannerman family as a whole, has never accepted the story told by the woman. It was her word over a lifetime of good character, and she a relative stranger. My grandson would never have been given the name Miles, had there been any doubt in our minds as to his ancestor’s innocence. But what really happened that day, remains a mystery.”
I was relieved to know the family didn’t accept the story Uncle Mark told us. I didn’t believe it myself, and didn’t want it to be true. I couldn’t bear it if it was.
“Alfred’s plan is to dramatize the woman’s version of the tragedy even further than it already has been, and market the resort accordingly. It wouldn’t be the first resort to gain notoriety from a dark past. Especially if he hints at ghostly activity…” Polly frowned, her voice fading.
“That’s awful,” I frowned, too.
“Yes, isn’t it!” Polly replied with asperity. She was obviously feeling better. She also had more to say.
Miles Page 3
