The Haunting of Hillwood Farm

by Kathryn Knight

  Her pride shoved its way past any jitters. “No, it’s fine, I can do it.” Thank goodness she’d worn loose jeans, belted low around her waist and cuffed at the ankles. She brought her knee up high enough to slide a low-heeled boot into the stirrup, gripped the ends of the saddle, and hoisted herself up in one fairly smooth movement.

  His brows shot up. “Wow. You made that look easy. Push your heels down,” he added, checking the stirrup length.

  “Well, I teach fitness classes four nights a week. Pilates and Barre.”

  “Yeah?” He glanced up at her, his gaze lingering. “It shows.” Stepping back, he nodded at her position on the horse. “You’re all set. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

  “You hear that, Lady?” she murmured, and the horse’s ears flicked backward. She stroked her soft neck, replaying Luke’s words as he disappeared into the barn. What did he mean by ‘it shows’? Just that she was able to get herself into the saddle without help? Or was he referring to the fact that she stayed in shape? Either way, she would take it as a compliment. A tiny bud of happiness bloomed in her chest, and she smiled to herself.

  She stayed fit and active for her own health—both mental and physical—not to catch the attention of men. Even if that were her goal, it would be pointless. She was never going to be in a normal relationship; she couldn’t even go to public places without risking being hounded by desperate spirits. Still, it was nice to have the strenuous regimen she put her body through acknowledged.

  Especially by Luke, her inner voice whispered, and she bit down hard on her lip to silence it. The truth was that he was probably still a bit suspicious of her, despite being too polite to mention it again. Plus, there was that girlfriend thing…maybe she just needed to get confirmation that he was taken, so she could shut down her inappropriate thoughts, once and for all.

  Luke returned, leading Moose, and he swung himself easily into the saddle. “Ready?” he asked, circling the horse around until he was beside Callie.

  “Ready.”

  “We’ll go this way, along the outside of the fence toward the pond.” He transferred the reins to one hand and pointed toward a worn path through the grass which led back into the woods. In the distance, to the right of the water, a break in the tree line revealed the entrance to the trail.

  As Luke nudged Moose’s flank with his heels and guided the horse away from the barn, Lady followed automatically. Callie’s legs relaxed slightly from their death grip around the saddle once Lady settled into a leisurely walk, and she found herself enjoying the view rather than worrying about falling off.

  Luke was in front of her, clearly at ease in the saddle, the muscles of his back and arms stretching the fabric of the white T-shirt, the gold streaks in his hair glinting in the sunlight. To her right, a white split-rail fence enclosed one of the pastures, with access to the back of the barn; on the left, the dark blue-green water of the lake shimmered as insects buzzed over the surface.

  Luke moved slightly off of the path, allowing Callie and Lady to come up alongside him and Moose. “All okay?”

  “Perfect. This is great, actually. Thank you for taking me.” She’d almost said ‘inviting me’, but that hadn’t exactly been the case.

  “So, you’re a Pilates teacher? And…” He trailed off, shooting her a questioning look as he searched for the other word she’d used.

  “And Barre. It’s like a workout using a ballet barre. A lot of squats and leg lifts,” she added. “Sometimes I fill in and teach Yoga classes too, although technically I’m not certified to do that.”

  He gave her a sideways grin. “So you’re a rule-breaker.”

  She laughed. “I suppose, in some small way. I consider it helping out, and any classes I can teach help pay the bills. Although my main source of income comes from my other job. I majored in English, and I do freelance editing from home. But it’s sporadic. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with projects, and sometimes there’s no business at all.”

  “And in your spare time you’re a ghost whisperer?”

  She chuckled again, although a thread of tension snaked through her. “Something like that. Although like I told you, I don’t advertise that, and I have never accepted money for it.”

  “Until now.”

  Her grip on the reins tightened. “Maybe. We’ll see.” This was not a topic she wanted to revisit right now. Not when they had been having a nice conversation, laughing together. She pulled in a deep breath, savoring the sweet, warm scent of the horses, the marshy tang of the lake, and the crisp pine of the woods. “What do you do?” she asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from psychic abilities and dueling spirits.

  “Well, right now I’m in the business of saving the farm.” He cleared his throat, sweeping his gaze over the property. “But I’m a carpenter by trade. A Certified Lead Carpenter, technically. I have an associate’s degree in business as well, and I owned a construction company for a few years. I sold it not too long ago.”

  “Wow.” That explained why he was able to build a house and renovate the barn on his own. “That’s impressive.”

  He shrugged. “Not really. My dad pushed for law school, but it wasn’t for me.” He was quiet for a moment, only the soft plod of the horses’ hooves breaking the silence. “But he’s got Ryan working with him, and he can take over the practice someday. I’ll do this.” He waved a hand in an arc over the fields to their right.

  “It’s a big job to take on. But an important one. I’m sure it’s stressful for you.”

  “The Turner family established Hillwood Farm, and I’m not going to let our generation be the one to lose it.” His words rang with quiet determination.

  “I realize I don’t know you very well, but you seem like the kind of person who succeeds at what he sets his mind to.” It occurred to her that she wasn’t just saying this to be supportive; she truly believed it. This was a man who’d followed his passion, despite pressure from his family. Created a successful business and sold it. Moved in with his grandmother when she’d lost her husband and begun building his own home on the property. “If I had to bet, I’d bet on you,” she added, admiration for him swelling in her chest.

  They returned to single file as they entered the woods, and for a while it was just the chattering of birds and squirrels in the trees, the crunch of dried leaves and forest detritus beneath the horses’ hooves, and the rustle of small animals in the tangled undergrowth. Sunlight filtered in through the branches overhead, and the shade from the arching boughs offered relief from the humidity. The air was still and warm, but in this peaceful sanctuary, it felt magical instead of oppressive.

  Every once and a while, Luke would point out something of interest—a red-tailed hawk soaring overhead, the remains of an old hunting cabin, a low stone wall covered in pale green lichen, an old fort built by Luke and Ryan in the branches of a tree. Eventually, the trail opened up to a clearing, with a meandering stream snaking through it. The horses approached eagerly and lowered their heads to the water.

  “Let up on the reins so they can slide up her neck,” Luke instructed.

  She copied Luke’s example, combing her fingers through Lady’s coarse mane as she drank. Downstream, a large dead branch had become lodged along the bank, and leaves and small sticks collected in the makeshift dam.

  “This is so relaxing,” she said, glancing up at the sky. A few wispy clouds stretched across the endless blue like torn lace. “I’m so glad I came.”

  “Me too,” he said, his voice low.

  “Really?” The words slipped out before she could corral them. But she truly was surprised to hear that. She held his gaze for an intense moment as she waited for his response.

  “Yes. We should do this again. Bring Sasha next time.”

  Her heart sank, punctured by an unexpected stab of jealousy. Sasha? Still, this was the opening she’d been waiting for. She took it. “Is that your girlfriend?”

  Confusion clouded his features for a beat before mirth broke through
, and his laughter rang through the woods. “No,” he said, swallowing back another chuckle. “Sasha is our other horse. I don’t have a girlfriend.” He shook his head, wiping at his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t know why I found that so funny.”

  She giggled too, giddy with relief. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I just assumed.”

  “No worries.” He cleared his throat, reaching around to rub the back of his neck. “What about you?”

  It took her a second to realize what he was asking: did she have a boyfriend? Of course, she should have seen that coming, since she’d asked his status. Then again, she couldn’t really imagine a scenario where he actually cared. Just because she’d felt sparks of chemistry between them didn’t mean he did. And even if he did, it didn’t necessarily mean anything beyond an instinctive physical reaction to the opposite sex.

  She felt his eyes on her, and she realized he was still waiting for a response.

  “No boyfriend,” she said. But that felt wrong. Like a betrayal to Andrew. “There was someone,” she added. “Now there’s not.”

  He gave a small nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty much my story.”

  She inhaled sharply. What? Then she realized he didn’t know her story, and he probably assumed she was referring to a break-up. That’s what he meant. But that was not her story.

  Every time she thought of Andrew, guilt and sadness engulfed her until she thought she might drown, despite the messages he’d fought so desperately to send. Already, she could feel the ragged hole in her heart opening up, and more than anything, she wanted to avoid discussing the subject of significant others any further. So far, the trail ride had been amazing, and right now, she wanted to live in the present—appreciate the sounds and scents of nature around them, the conversation with the man beside her, the soothing presence of the horse below her.

  “This trail is a big circle, we’re just about halfway around the loop. Ready?” He pulled on the reins and made a clicking sound, turning Moose’s head back toward the path.

  Phew. Apparently Luke didn’t want to talk about the past either. And who would, really? She didn’t have much experience with relationships beyond Andrew, but most people probably didn’t relish chatting about their break-ups.

  Forty minutes later, they were headed back to the barn, and the filmy clouds were coalescing into a darker mass in the distance. “Looks like we’re getting back just in time,” Callie said, although truthfully, she didn’t want their time together to end. She’d loved learning about Luke and Ryan’s childhood antics here on the farm, and all the fun they’d had roaming the property with little supervision. Apparently their mother hadn’t known exactly what they were up to, but she’d been happy to let the two boys spend weekends and summers at Hillwood, getting dirty and expending their energy somewhere besides the elegant, orderly house Cynthia liked to decorate with expensive fabrics and valuable art.

  In comparison, her own childhood seemed a lot less rambunctious; she was an only child who spent a great deal of time with her nose in a book. But she’d had her own wonderful world of adventures in her imagination—and in the magical kingdom she and her father had created.

  It was the one detail from her past she’d shared with Luke today—how, when she was a little girl, she’d loved to play in their backyard garden, and she’d become entranced by the jewel-colored dragonflies that hovered over the little koi pond.

  Her father had been a creative writing teacher at the local high school, and he began making up fairy tales revolving around Princess Callie and the Dragonfly Kingdom. Together, they developed an increasingly elaborate fictional world, with all sorts of magic and mayhem. Eventually, Thomas Sinclair typed up the scenes, Callie and her mother made the illustrations, and they had a set of books. To this day, she still had them all, and the dragonfly necklace her father had given her for her thirteenth birthday.

  She reached for the pendant now, sliding her thumb over the tiny crystal eyes. Lady came to a stop near the barn entrance as Luke reined Moose to a halt in front of them.

  He dismounted, turning toward her. “Did you want to stick around for a while? Once I get the horses untacked, we can go up to the house and see if there’s some pie we can swipe. You haven’t lived till you’ve tasted Gram’s pie,” he added with a grin.

  Her pulse surged—he actually wanted her to stick around. She opened her mouth to reply, but the words caught as a chill curled around her. Lady sidestepped nervously, and Callie had a split second to wonder if the inexplicable cold air was a result of the dark clouds gathering to the west. Then a sharp hiss sliced through her head, a cross between a high-pitched screech and fingernails dragging across a blackboard. Her temples throbbed with the sound, and Lady suddenly reared up as though something terrifying had scuttled in front of her.

  Lady’s neck hit her chest, the impact pitching Callie back in the saddle. All her muscles tightened, her legs clamping around the saddle like a vise, her fingers yanking at Lady’s mane. Somehow, she stayed on, even as she cried out in surprise and fear.

  Cursing loudly, Luke dropped Moose’s reins and rushed over, grabbing Lady’s bridle. “Shh,” he murmured, calming her. He held the horse steady, sliding his free hand along her neck, then placing it over Callie’s fist with a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”

  Was she? Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and fresh sweat dampened her already sticky skin. But she was okay. She nodded, wanting to reassure him as much as herself.

  She was no worse for the wear, this time. But she’d been targeted—again.

  “Something must have spooked her,” Luke said, checking their surroundings.

  Hysterical laughter bubbled in her chest at his choice of words, but she pushed it back down. She wasn’t going to ruin the pleasant afternoon they’d had by bringing up hostile ghosts again. Although something about the way he was looking at her made her think he had his own unspoken suspicions.

  “Let’s get you down,” he said. Taking the reins from her shaking grip, he added, “Just swing your leg over in the reverse of how you got on. I’ve got you.”

  Her pride rose up, ready to insist she didn’t need help. But her legs were still trembling, and the muscles that had served her so well up to this point were starting to feel weak. It wouldn’t be a good look to collapse on the ground, and then his hands settled around her waist, and his touch was suddenly all she could focus on.

  His grip was firm as he helped her down, and when both her feet were on the ground, he turned her to face him. She was sandwiched between the horse’s side and Luke, and he didn’t take a step back. Their bodies were inches away, one of his hands still resting above her hip.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice rough, his head bent toward her. Their gazes locked and held. Then his eyes skimmed lower, settling on her lips. Her breath hitched.

  Moose got tired of lingering outside the barn and began plodding toward the entrance, breaking the spell. Lady started to follow, and Luke pulled Callie forward so she was out of the way. “They’ll be looking for food and water,” Luke said, releasing Callie. “Why don’t I put them in the ties and then walk you up to the house? I can come back down and get them settled.”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine to stay. I’d like to help.”

  He looked at her for a moment, something like approval sliding over his handsome features. “If you’re sure, that’d be great.” With a conspiratorial smile, he added, “Then pie.”

  Chapter 9

  Callie didn’t end up getting home from the farm until shortly before she had to run back out to teach her class, so she decided to skip her cardio, despite feeling a little guilty about eating a slice of pie and then sharing Luke’s second piece. Worth it, she decided as she let herself into her apartment. The pie really was indescribably delicious—Alice had salvaged all the cherries and still made two—but the banter with the two of them in the kitchen after the trail ride had fed a different need. One she hadn’t realized she’d craved so desperately.
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  She’d go visit her father tomorrow, she decided as she locked the door behind her. He probably wouldn’t recognize her, but it would be nice to see his kind face. To hold his hand.

  Dropping her bag on a chair, she made her way into the little kitchen and opened the fridge. She hadn’t had time to eat a proper dinner before class, and her stomach issued a plaintive growl as she perused her choices.

  There was lettuce and half a yellow pepper on the bottom shelf; cherry tomatoes on the counter. That would do. She pulled everything out and set it on the counter, along with a cutting board and a bowl.

  God, she was tired. Hopefully, the antagonistic ghost had spent all its energy today on messing up the flour message and scaring Lady and would leave Callie alone tonight. Exhaustion was seeping into her bones, and her muscles were beginning to ache in unusual places from the horseback ride.

  She crunched a slice of pepper as she tore lettuce into pieces, debating what else she could add. Maybe some canned tuna? Pulling a can out of the pantry, she rummaged around for a can opener. As she closed the drawer, she popped a cherry tomato into her mouth.

  Something smacked her between the shoulder blades, and she sucked in a stunned breath. The little tomato lodged in her throat as cold air surrounded her. She bent forward, trying to cough, but the tomato was stuck. She couldn’t breathe. Choking.

  She clutched at her neck, panic rising as her lungs began to burn. Think! Her phone was in her bag—she could call 911. She stumbled over toward the table on the other side of the kitchen counter.

  How fast could they get here? She would lose consciousness any moment now. She would die. Her brain whirled as her lungs screamed. CPR. She was certified. Every year, in order to maintain her job as a fitness instructor. There was a way to administer the Heimlich to herself.