Chapter 3
From the tower, Hugh watched the young woman below. Over the decades of his haunting he had learned to recognize the signs. She had sensed him earlier and would bear watching. It had been many years since he had been unable to control when a living being could see him. She was sensitive, that one, though not as much as her younger sister.
Now, that little one ... she did not simply see him, she spoke to him. Disobeyed him. So like his Maire. He shook his head. Those two little girls. Such headstrong wills in tiny, frail bodies, yet they each carried so much spirit.
A confusing rush of emotions flowed through him, both pride in the children and frustration. He was the master of the citadel. How dared those infants presume to command him?
In spite of his frustration, the corners of Hugh’s mouth twitched.
Coop
ONCE HE REACHED THE GATEHOUSE, Coop jumped from the truck and hurried to the passenger side. By the time he reached it, his father had the door open and was trying to get out by himself.
“Let me help,” Coop said.
“I can do it.” His father stepped from the truck and put weight on the foot. When he grimaced, Coop reached out but his father brushed away his hand.
“Steve.” The tone in Coop’s mother’s voice stopped his father short. She slid from the back seat and came to stand beside him too. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Fine, then. Help the old man,” he growled and accepted the hands they offered him.
“I’ll get some ice,” his mother said once they had him up the stairs.
“Come on, Pop.” Coop helped him into his favorite recliner. “What’s really bothering you?”
“So much for making a good impression.” His father heaved a sigh as he reclined the chair. “Why did that have to happen right when the new owners were arriving?”
Coop gently removed the boot, and they examined the foot. The rope had left a few burn marks on the skin.
“The bruising’s not really too bad,” Coop said. “My sprained ankle looked a lot worse. Can you move it much?” He hoped they wouldn’t need to make a run into town to see a doctor. Pop hated going to the doctor.
His father carefully made a circle, wincing only a little. He had full, if painful, mobility.
“Well, it might not be all bad.” Coop rose. “Maybe they’ll be more sympathetic because of your injury.”
“You mean maybe they won’t boot us right away.” His mother entered the living room.
“Well now they must think I’m a complete incompetent.” His father flinched as she gently placed a bag of ice on his ankle. He sighed. “Ah, now that does feel better.”
“I know Ez and Lia,” Coop said, standing by the window that provided the best view of the citadel. “They’re good people. Let’s give their parents a chance before we assume we’ll all lose our jobs.”
He did sympathize with his parents. The last two months had been hard on all of them. They had lost a friend as well as an employer. None of his family had minded the move to the gatehouse. Not after Miles had died. The old man’s vibrancy had seemed to fill the castle. With it gone, the citadel had been like a different place. A lonely place.
His parents hadn’t known what to do. Wait and hope the new owners kept them on or seek employment elsewhere. None of them wanted to leave, so they’d decided to wait to see what the new owners chose to do with the place.
Coop smiled. Already the Savages had changed the citadel’s atmosphere. The place seemed alive again. He stretched to catch a glimpse of Lia but saw no sign of her.
“Who wants to hire two people turning sixty this year and so close to retirement?” Pop rubbed his forehead. “Besides, how many caretaker jobs are out there anyway?”
Coop turned back to the window. He’d received another email from his internship supervisor. The invitation to apply for the open position did not come with a guarantee, but it looked good that they’d asked him to apply. It was the second time they’d approached him about a position there.
When he’d received the first invitation to apply, he’d mentioned it. His parents had not been excited about the suggestion.
“I hate California,” Pop had grumbled. “Too many people. Too much traffic.”
“It’s too hot there,” his mother had said.
For six weeks they had researched and argued about other options. In case the Savages saw no need to retain their services.
“So that’s her?”
Coop jumped, startled from his reverie. He hadn’t heard his mother’s approach.
“Is that the girl?” she repeated, nodding toward the citadel.
“That’s the girl.” He didn’t try to deny it. After so many mentions of Lia last summer, he’d had to explain who she was. “What did you think of Mrs. Savage?” he asked. “Do you think she’ll be hard to work with?”
“She’s a go-getter, that one.” His mother shot him a little frown at his deflection, but she went along. “She and her husband, both. I like their children. Those twin boys must be a handful for her. So much energy.”
“Last summer Ez used to talk a lot about their antics,” Coop said. “When I said they sounded like troublemakers, he insisted they’re good kids, just really curious and creative.”
“Well, curious and creative can be a problem when you’re running a hotel,” his mother said. “Since you know them, do you really think we have a better chance of being retained?”
“I only knew Lia and Ezra,” Coop said. “We’ll just have to make a good impression for our own sake.”
“Um, about that ….” She pulled a face.
“Mum,” Coop turned to face her, “what did you do?”
“I told Mrs. Savage about the ghost.” At his expression, she hurried on, “I had to. I couldn’t let that family move in there and not be warned.”
“And she didn’t take it well, did she?” He might have to apply for that job in Sacramento after all. How ironic.
“No, she didn’t.” His mother crossed her arms. “I think she was quite rude about it.”
“Aw, Deb. You didn’t,” His father groaned. “Now they don’t just think I’m incompetent, they think you’re a crackpot.”
“Crackpot, my foot!” She spun to face Pop. “I had to say something. I just saw all those children … that dear little girl. What if he kicked something at her?” His mother’s eyes brightened with tears. “I had to.”
“How about this?” Coop put an arm across her shoulders and looked at his father. “Act like nothing’s happened. No mention of rope tricks. No ghost warnings. No ghost sightings at all.” He raised his hand to stop their protests. “It shouldn’t be hard. He’s not that active. We need to give them time to know us better. Mum, you did your duty by them; they’ve been warned. It’s in their hands now.”
“He might be right, Deb.” His father waved her over.
“I need to get back and help them unpack,” Coop said. “I’ll put the riding lawnmower back later.”
He whistled as he returned to the citadel. What a gift he’d been handed. Lia, here. He wouldn’t let the opportunity pass him by a second time.
As long as her father didn’t let them go.
***
Lia
I’m not sure what I expected. Surprisingly, the Internet had few photos of the citadel and most of them were from the outside. Ezra and I had spent a lot of time online checking out pictures of restored modern-day castles. Most of them functioned as hotels and had lavish decorations.
The distant relative who’d owned the place before us hadn’t gone to those extremes. It struck me as odd that our Savage ancestor who’d bothered to take this place apart and ship it here hadn’t brought more furniture with him. I glanced at my mother, whose smile grew as she took in the large entry.
“Do you like it, Mom?” I asked.
“Oh, honey. This is perfect. Don’t you love those suits of armor? This entry hall can double as the check-in desk and a sitting room.” She’d let go
of Mellie’s hand and was pulling a notepad from her purse.
“Sweetheart, check this out,” Dad said.
“Lia,” Mom said as Dad pulled her toward the east tower, “don’t let Mellie out of your sight.”
“I won’t.”
Ezra winked at Mellie and followed the boys, who had run off toward the west tower, the opposite direction from our parents. I took my sister’s hand, and we followed our brothers.
The large, circular, ground-floor room sat empty, except for a stately piano off to the side. The large windows provided a great view of the grounds out front and to the west.
“Imagine a masked ball being held here.” Images of a Jane Austen event went through my mind, and I started a mental list of the perfect pastries for the banquet.
Mellie let go of my hand and skipped over to the piano. Joel and Eli beat her to it. They got bored pounding on it and raced to the door leading into the west wing where the guest rooms would be. Three floors of them. Even so, I doubted the place was so big I’d worry about getting lost in it.
“Come on, Mellie.” I waved for her to come with us. “Don’t give me that look. You can play with the piano once we check out the rooms.”
“Fine.” She put down the fallboard with great care. I already knew where she'd want to spend a lot of time.
“Question for you, sweetie.” I took her hand. “Who was it that Phoebe said you should follow?” I hated feeding the invisible friend thing, but I didn’t want to doubly upset Mellie.
“That old man.”
“Mr. Montgomery?”
“No. The old-time man in the cape.” She let go of my hand and skipped into the hallway where the twins were already running back toward us.
“You heard Mom,” Ezra shouted from the other end. He pointed to the row of doors along one side of the hallway. “We have to check each of the rooms. Time to work.”
The old-time man in a cape? I reminded myself that those words had come from a seven-year-old who had given her invisible friend the same name as her dead sister.
I followed them into the hallway and stopped. While one wall held the doors for the guest rooms, the other side of the hallway held a bank of windows. A garden filled the inside of the castle’s “U.” This must have been what Coop had been talking about. A formal flower garden. I glanced over my shoulder at the circular staircase and back at my sister.
“Mellie, you want to come with me or the boys?”
“The boys.” She ran after the twins, who had opened one of the bedroom doors.
“Ez, you got her? I want to go upstairs.”
“I’ll watch her. Make sure you have your phone for Mom’s notes.”
I patted my pocket to check before heading up the stairs. The open door to the second floor tower room showed a library. Through the hallway windows I could make out a pattern to the garden that hadn’t been visible on the main floor.
As I entered the room I felt my first affinity for the cousin, whatever times removed, who had last owned the castle. The cozy room must have been his favorite place because, where the hall had been almost austere, curving bookcases, paintings, and windows filled the library’s round walls.
I couldn’t remember a fireplace downstairs, but the one in here formed the centerpiece of the room. I ran my hand over the beautiful mantelpiece, sliding my fingers along the offset design of its carved stones. A work of art.
Above it hung a really old-looking painting. From the clothing on the man and two children, I guessed it must have been in the early 1800s. Were they ancestors, to have such a prominent place in the room? I stepped closer, drawn to the little girl in the picture. Her curls refused to be tamed, and the painter had captured a mischievous gleam in her eyes that made me wonder what she saw off screen. Her expression reminded me of Mellie.
I shifted my attention to the rest of the people, settling on the man dressed in a familiar red British uniform but wearing a cape made of the blue in the British flag. Was he the little girl’s father?
Out of nowhere, with powerful feelings like in a dream, came an image of him wandering the halls of this castle. Sad and alone, he called for someone, but no one came.
“Did you lose them and then have to live in this house all by yourself?” I whispered, caught up in a sense of loss so strong it brought sudden tears. “So much emptiness. Did it echo around you, trying to swallow you up?”
My hair swirled around with a breezy, soft yeeesssss, and the hair on my arms stood up. Shocked, I held my breath and searched the room. For a second I thought I could see the man in the portrait standing by a bookcase. I blinked and he was gone.
I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to run screaming from the room. I must not give rein to the overactive imagination of my childhood. With my back held rigid, I forced my feet to walk at a normal pace to the door, just like I used to do as a little kid after staying up too late to watch a scary movie.
Pausing in the doorway, I glanced back. Had I really seen a .... No.
Outside of the room now, the weird feeling seemed to dissipate, and I felt stupid. Just what I needed, my own imaginary friend. Chuckling a little at the lame notion, I shook off the strange experience and stepped into the hallway to check out the garden.
And what a garden. I couldn’t make up my mind if the delicate balance between the formal, manicured beds and the lazy, flowing garden path was intentional.
I pressed my forehead against the glass near the stairs. Washington’s cool weather wouldn’t make for the kinds of huge flowers Sacramento’s heat produced. This only being June, the flowers were probably just coming in. I was pretty sure the garden would look amazing by August.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the circular stairs and Coop burst through, right into me. With an ooph, I would have gone flying, but his hands shot out and caught me by the shoulders, keeping me on my feet.
“Sorry. Mum’s always telling me to be more careful,” Coop said, a little breathless. “Your brothers said you were up here taking an inventory.” He let me go and stepped back. “I thought maybe you could use some help.”
Coop had come looking for me. Again. I wanted to squeal. Instead, I pulled the phone from my pocket, trying to appear cool and calm.
“Is your dad okay?” I asked.
“Mum was making him put ice on his foot when I left, but he’s fine.”
“That was such a scary accident.” I pulled my sweater tighter.
“It wasn’t—” Coop’s expression clouded, and he shifted in obvious discomfort. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Um, try me.” I tried to look encouraging.
Coop seemed to struggle to say something. Why? It reminded me of how I’d felt a little while ago when I’d wanted to confide in Ezra but hadn’t been able to.
It all came flooding in at once—the “breeze” blowing my hair earlier on the breezeless grounds, Mom’s cryptic declaration about no ghosts, and now my library experience.
“Coop, don’t you even tell me this place is haunted.” I planted both hands on my hips, almost daring him to deny it. At his expression, I groaned and dropped my hands. “No. You’re not supposed to feed my overactive imagination. You’re supposed to tell me there’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“What did you see?” Coop took my shoulders again, and he checked me out from head to toe. It might have been flattering except he seemed to be searching for some kind of injury.
I explained about what I’d experienced outside and in the library.
“You’ve seen him twice already?” He grimaced and dropped his hand from my shoulders. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about it.”
“Wait. You aren’t teasing me?” I asked. “You’re saying he’s real?”
He hesitated before giving a single nod. “He’s not usually this active. Just little things every once in a while.”
I suddenly felt like the kid from the old movie Galaxy Quest who’d been told his favorite TV show was real. Not only had my father
inherited a castle, he’d inherited a ghost. How bizarre. How awesome.
But why had I seen him so many times? Had I become a ghost magnet? Mellie’s words about him came unbidden to my mind, and it didn’t seem so awesome anymore. Had she become a ghost magnet?
“Is it bad that he’s shown himself to us so soon after we got here?” I asked, rubbing my cold hands together.
“It could mean he’s getting stronger,” Coop said. “Mum saw him in the library too. He sent something flying at her. That was right after Miles, uh, Colonel Savage died. That’s when we moved into the Gatehouse.”
“Wait.” I stared at him, pulling out of my ghostly confusion. “You used to live here, in the castle?”
“Yeah.” Coop stared down at the garden but didn’t seem to see it. “Miles was gone ....” His voice tightened for a second, and he coughed. “What with new owners coming—you all,” he said with the hint of a smile, “Mum decided we’d have to move out anyway.”
My impression of the castle shifted then, no longer a cool sightseeing stop anymore. It had been Coop’s home. I wanted to ask if they resented having to move, but I didn’t know how without sounding lame. Hey, Coop, you and your folks mad because you got kicked out of your home? Um, yeah. No.
“Uh,” I said, “I guess I’d better get busy on that inventory for my mother before she comes looking for me.” I opened the first door.
“Mum already has an inventory of the rooms.” Coop held the door open to let me through. “If that helps.”
“I’m sure it will, but my mother wants pictures and details of what’s in each room.” I held up my phone.
“Even before you’ve unpacked?”
“Mom’s the queen of efficiency.” I explained about sending us to do double duty.
“Let’s do it, then.” Coop strode to the windows and opened the heavy curtains.
I already knew bedrooms made up the entire floor. Some had smaller rooms connected to them that must have been intended for servants. Or maybe they had always been big closets.
“How long have you lived here?” I turned on the light in the bedroom.
A Savage Ghost Page 3