The Haunting of Hillwood Farm

by Kathryn Knight

  “I’m sure it’s hard for a spirit to move something in the physical world. Maybe he just…doesn’t have a lot of control over it,” she offered, shifting on her stool as she gathered her dark curtain of hair over her shoulder and coiled it into a rope.

  Alice tilted her head to the side, considering. “Well, he certainly got my attention, if that was the point. And then there were all the other things that have happened that I told you about last week. The family pictures that fell and shattered after years of hanging on the same wall. A huge crack appearing in my car’s windshield when it was safely in the garage. All the laundry I’d hung on the clothesline ending up on the ground. Important papers going missing.” She ticked off each incident on her thin fingers, the gold band on her left hand catching the light from the fixture overhead. With a small shrug, she added, “Anyway, all this was enough to convince me to find someone who could help, that’s for sure.” She nodded toward Callie before turning back toward the coffee maker.

  Of course, it remained to be seen whether she could actually be any help. A surge of nervous energy hummed through her, and she ordered herself to relax. There was no real pressure here; she had signed no contract, received no money. She’d only agreed to come by the house for an initial visit, and go from there.

  Danger. The word rustled in her head, thick and muffled, as though coming from underwater. But it wasn’t her thought, and it was accompanied by that familiar flare of pressure in her skull. She froze, her eyes searching the room. She’d never actually seen a ghost, but the instinct to look for a figure to go with a disembodied voice was tough to ignore.

  Nothing but the back of Alice’s thin but surprisingly sturdy frame as she filled two coffee mugs on the other side of the kitchen. Cropped tan pants, untucked powder blue blouse, pewter strands of hair still vying for freedom from the loose bun.

  She turned her head slowly. Just the vacant farm table, the empty foyer, and a partial view of the front door, still closed.

  A tremor shuddered through her. So…a connection had been made, even if briefly. And the message—danger—was not exactly comforting. Knitting her brows, she strained to pick up something else. But it was just the background noise of whispers now, slowly fading away like a battery draining of power. Those spirits had no real reason to reach her, no unfinished business keeping them caught between worlds. They only wanted someone to know they’d been here, once, and had left a tiny piece of their presence behind. The memory of a life lived.

  Ghosts who moved things in the physical world and sought out mediums, in her experience anyway, had something important to relay. And the fact that someone—Alice?—was in danger…well, that felt important. Callie realized she was stuck now. How could she refuse to help if danger lurked around this sweet woman?

  The thud of footsteps on the porch jolted her from her ruminations, and she jumped in her seat, the word danger still rattling through her mind.

  Chapter 3

  Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she whipped her head back and forth between the closed front door and her hostess. Alice was frozen in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes wide with something like concern, her mouth rounded into a small O.

  Who was here? Before Callie could even think what to do, the door opened, and a man entered. A baseball cap shaded his face, so she couldn’t tell if his expression was menacing or pleasant. When he didn’t lunge toward them, she relaxed a few degrees, but her blood still thumped in her ears. They were two women, alone in an isolated house, and this man looked like he could do some damage if he wanted to. He was tall and broad-shouldered, the hard muscles of his arms exposed by a gray short-sleeved T-shirt. Beneath worn jeans, he wore heavy work boots that echoed against the wooden floorboards as he turned to shut the door.

  “Oh, Luke, you surprised me. I thought you had a meeting in Plymouth.” Alice snapped out of her momentary stupor, but her words seemed laced with forced casualness.

  Luke? It took Callie another beat to make the connection, but then she remembered. Alice had mentioned her grandson was living with her in the farmhouse for the time being, while he fixed up another building on the property to serve as his own place. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted his grandmother to be at Hillwood all alone after Henry had suddenly passed away, and he’d moved into one of the home’s guest rooms after putting his own house on the market.

  A surge of warmth wound through her at the thought of that kind of selfless protectiveness, but she steeled herself against it. I don’t even know this man. It had been obvious during their initial meeting how Alice felt about her grandson, her voice vibrating with love and pride as she’d explained their current living situation. But God knew relatives did horrible things to each other; all the true crime shows on TV were proof of that. And for some reason, Alice now looked like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

  Could the mysterious “danger” warning have something to do with Luke Turner? Tiny hairs prickled along the back of her neck.

  “I did,” he replied. “But he called while I was on the way, some kind of personal emergency.” Luke strode into the dining room, removing his hat and raking his free hand through thick, light brown hair.

  Whoa. Her stomach did a little flip. He was strikingly handsome. She shifted on the stool, her fingers plucking at a patch of frayed denim in the fashionably ripped skinny jeans she’d bought on sale.

  “So I just ran a few errands,” Luke finished, resting a hand on the back of a chair. He flicked a curious glance between his grandmother and Callie.

  “Oh.” Alice shook her head as if to clear it. “This is Callie. Callie, this is my grandson, Luke,” she added, sliding one of the full coffee mugs across the counter.

  Once again, the affection Alice felt for her grandson rang clear in her introductions. Callie pulled in a breath and offered Luke a smile, battling against a nervous twitch pulsing in the corner of her mouth. What was wrong with her? “Hi,” she managed.

  His gaze swept over her, lingered. He nodded. “Nice to meet you.” He leaned forward, extending his hand.

  A warm flush crept up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. Good Lord. Dangerous or not, he was just so…hot. His looks were muddling her thoughts, that was all. But a strange thrill ran through her, and she suddenly realized she hadn’t felt any kind of attraction toward a man since Andrew. As she slipped her hand into his, her skin tingled pleasantly, as though her body was trying to prove its point.

  His full lips curved into a slow, sexy smile, revealing small dimples beneath the slight scruff of whiskers that hadn’t seen a razor that morning. He cocked his brows, a quizzical look flickering in his steel blue eyes, and she realized he was probably waiting for further explanation as to who the heck she was. Alice hadn’t specified their relationship, and there was certainly a large age gap between the two women. Callie was 25, probably just a bit younger than Luke; random friendship seemed an unlikely scenario.

  She glanced toward his grandmother for help, but all Alice said was, “I just made coffee. Can I get you a cup?”

  “That sounds great. But I’ll get it, Gram. You sit down.”

  Alice waved him away, crossing back to the other side of the kitchen. “I’m fine.”

  He turned his attention back to Callie. “So…are you looking to board a horse?”

  She blinked, still struggling to regain her bearings after everything that had happened in the last five minutes. “No, I’m—” Out of the corner of her vision, she caught Alice giving her the slightest shake of her head, and she cut herself off. “Um…I don’t have a horse,” she finished lamely.

  His forehead crinkled, eyes narrowing. He studied her, realization dawning across his chiseled features like a lengthening shadow. Cords tightened along the sides of his neck as his expression turned hard. “Wait.” He swiveled toward Alice. “Gram, tell me this has nothing to do with Pop.”

  “Now, hang on a moment, Luke,” Alice said, the words rushing out, her tone a cross between defensive and flu
stered. “I told you what’s been going on. You’ve seen the damage yourself. I invited her here.”

  He accepted the mug of coffee Alice pushed into his hands, transferring it directly to the table without taking his eyes off Callie. “How much money have you scammed off a grieving widow so far?”

  Beneath his glare, her insides twisted. “What?” Indignation rose along with her voice. “Look, I haven’t asked for or accepted any kind of payment.”

  Alice cut in again, her cheeks glowing pink. “It’s true. I tried to offer her money to come here, but she refused. Although I am going to insist on paying her if she can help figure out what’s going on here.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “So, you bill yourself as some kind of psychic or something?” He folded his arms over his chest, biceps bunching, tendons taut.

  Squaring her shoulders, she pulled in a breath. “I don’t ‘bill myself’ as anything,” she replied hotly. Good God, I did not sign up for this.

  “Okay,” Alice interrupted, waving her hand in the air like a flag. “This isn’t conducive to…anything. I’m the one that searched out Callie and asked her to come here. Begged her, really, because at first, she didn’t want to get involved. So now that she’s here, I’d like to see if she feels anything.”

  I’m feeling a lot of things, actually. Callie bit down on her lip to keep the sarcasm in. If she hadn’t already heard that warning message, she’d be out of here. But she had, and now she was, as Alice put it, ‘involved’. She sighed inwardly.

  Sipping her coffee, Alice continued her quest to calm the waters. “Maybe a tour of the property would be helpful, Callie. Henry spent a lot of time down at the barn or the other outbuildings. He loved it here.” Her expression grew wistful as she gazed out the kitchen window. A birdfeeder hung on the other side of the glass, secured by suction cups, and a pair of sparrows flitted around it. Sunlight spilled across the floor.

  Luke finally broke the moment of silence. “Gram, your shoulder is still healing. I’ll take her around.” His last sentence carried the weight of a painful chore.

  Alice made a dismissive noise, waving his concern away. “It’s a walk, not hauling around hay bales. I’ll be fine. But we’d love to have you along.”

  We would? Callie pressed her teeth a little harder into her bottom lip, sending up a tiny flare of pain.

  “I’ll just get a jacket, it’s a little breezy out. Callie, will you be okay?”

  Callie glanced down at her outfit. A thin ivory sweater coat served as her outerwear, layered over an emerald camisole she liked because it highlighted the green of her eyes. The sweater’s knit was loose, exposing tiny dots of skin along her arms, but it was long-sleeved. “I think I’ll be fine.” When she looked up, she caught Luke’s gaze on her as well, his eyes quickly sliding away from the swell of cleavage revealed by her low-cut cami. Flushing, she stood, pulling the sweater across her chest.

  Alice motioned to the hall extending from the back of the kitchen. “Okay. There’s a bathroom back here, too, Callie. I’ll be out in just a minute if you need to use it, but there’s one in the barn as well.” She hurried out of the kitchen, and a door in the back hallway clicked shut.

  Callie’s coffee mug was still nearly full, and she reached for it, hoping she appeared less uncomfortable than she felt, alone here with Luke. At least she’d noticed a slight ruddy stain rise across his cheekbones after she’d caught him checking her out. It evened the playing field a little. She just wished her body hadn’t responded with the warm rush of desire still swirling low in her belly. But he didn’t have to know that. It was just that it had been so long…there’d been no one since Andrew. She hadn’t even tried. Who in their right mind would want to get involved with her the way she was now, anyway?

  Luke cleared his throat, lifting his own mug. “I don’t believe in this stuff, you know.”

  She shrugged. “Neither did I.” If he only knew what she’d been through after the accident. How hard it had been to accept this…odd and terrible “gift”.

  He frowned as confusion swept over his face. “Well, if you’re hoping there’s some big inheritance…there’s not.”

  “Okay.” What about you? Maybe there really was some big inheritance, and he wanted to get rid of Alice so he could get his hands on it. Danger. It felt a bit far-fetched, unless he was an amazing actor—she could literally feel the love between the two of them. Then again, psychopaths were probably excellent actors, and it was too early to dismiss anything yet.

  Why, then, was she headed out to explore the grounds of this secluded property with him? Well, at least Alice would be with them as well.

  Shaking his head, he dragged a hand over his mouth. “I just don’t like this,” he said, almost to himself.

  “I did get that impression.”

  To her surprise, his lips twitched into the hint of a suppressed smile. Picking up his coffee, he took a swig. “I’ll probably try to talk her out of this tonight.”

  She nodded. “That’s fine. Although based on what I’ve seen of your grandmother so far, she seems a bit stubborn.”

  This time he actually laughed, his blue eyes glinting with humor and exasperation. “You have no idea.”

  Alice bustled into the kitchen, pulling on her jacket. Pausing mid-stride, she glanced between the two of them as they laughed, and something passed across her face quickly, like a lightbulb flashing on. “Well, are we ready then? There’s a bit more coffee, if anyone wants a refill. I can put it in a travel mug.”

  She declined politely, even as Luke chuckled again, shaking his head. “Gram, you’re making it sound like we’re going on a day-long trek.” He turned to Callie with a smile, his dimples flashing. “The barn is really not that far away. I think we’ll be okay.”

  Another unbidden surge of heat flowed through her as she returned the smile. Damn her traitorous hormones. “Great,” she replied, plucking her sunglasses from her small bag. Fortunately, she’d worn low-heeled ankle boots; even if it wasn’t a long walk, spikey heels would have made navigating the sloping hills and dirt paths difficult.

  Alice adjusted the collar of her beige jacket with exaggerated movements in response to Luke’s teasing, shooting a look of feigned annoyance at him as she marched by.

  “Aww, Gram, you know I love you,” Luke said, turning to wrap a muscular arm around her. With his free hand, he snagged his hat from the chair, and together the two of them walked toward the front door, side by side, Luke towering over his grandmother by at least a foot.

  Callie’s throat tightened as she watched them cross the dining room, Alice tucked into Luke’s side. So sweet. Her mind took the thought down another path as she suddenly found herself wondering what it would feel like to be wrapped in that protective embrace, and she fought the invasive pull of longing that came with it. Still, she allowed herself a few more seconds to admire his retreating figure, catching the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth.

  Cold air swirled around her, and something hard and pointed jabbed her in the middle of her back, sending her stumbling forward. “Ow!” she cried, grabbing onto the chair at the head of the dining table to keep from falling. Spinning around, she searched the space where she’d been standing as she pressed her back protectively against the rungs of the chair.

  Empty. There was no one there.

  Chapter 4

  “Callie! Are you all right?” Alice hurried back toward her, concern clouding her features. “What happened?”

  She stretched her arm up her back, bending her elbow awkwardly as she tried to rub the lingering ache between her shoulder blades. The spot tingled, simultaneously hot and cold, as though someone had applied a blob of one of those creams for sore muscles. With a single jab of a sharp stick.

  “I…” She faltered. The instinct to lie was strong; it was the pattern she’d fallen into after the accident, to avoid strange looks. But, Alice had brought her here for a reason, and she was going to have to start sharing some things for this to work. S
wallowing hard, she dropped her arm. “It felt like someone poked me. In the middle of my back.”

  Behind Alice, Luke rolled his eyes as he pulled his hat on, skepticism nearly radiating off him. “Justifying your billable hours?”

  Anger flared. “No,” she snapped. “I said I wouldn’t take any money unless I could help. Getting poked in the back doesn’t seem very helpful.” She actually did want to help. She certainly had the time, with the way things were going with the rest of her life. And now she sort of wanted to prove to Luke that she wasn’t a fraud.

  Hesitating, she bit back the urge to tell him about the forbidding message she’d received right before he came in. But he probably wouldn’t believe her, and anyway, she didn’t want to open herself up to any additional ridicule. She’d tell Alice about it later, after they had walked around a bit. Hopefully she’d have something more to relay at that point.

  Alice tossed a glare in Luke’s direction as she murmured, “I believe you,” rubbing Callie’s shoulder gently. “Do you want me to take a look at your back?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine. Should we get on with the tour?” Forcing a weak smile, she gestured toward the front door.

  Tugging at the brim of his cap, Luke frowned at her as they made their way into the hall. “Why would my grandfather’s ghost want to poke you in the back? Pop was a nice guy.”

  “Luke,” Alice cut in, an undercurrent of warning beneath her cheerful tone. “Why don’t you give Callie some of the history of the farm?” It was a command, not a suggestion, and Alice pulled the door closed with a bang to emphasize her point.

  “Right.” He led them down the porch steps and along the walkway. It connected with the winding driveway she’d ascended as she drove in, and a dusty black pick-up truck now sat beside her car in the wide paved area by the side of the house. A two-car garage had been tacked on a little farther back, clearly a more modern necessity, but care had been taken to preserve the view from the living room windows.