Haunted Gracefield

by M. L. Bullock

  “One step. Two steps. Three steps.” I knew exactly how many steps were on the staircase, but it felt good to talk out loud. I didn’t feel quite as alone when I talked out loud and not just in my head. Before I came to Seven Sisters, before I became a part of this family, I had been alone a lot. Like a lot of days and sometimes at night. I never wanted to leave here. I needed to be okay; I needed everyone to be okay.

  As I cleared the top step, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

  Super Bear!

  She was standing in the hallway with her sword raised high, but her helmet was missing. Someone had posed her to stand facing me as if she wanted to do battle with me, her favorite person in the whole world.

  “Super Bear?” I whispered hopefully as I held my breath in excitement. With all my heart I wanted to run to my toy, pick her up and never let her go, but something was not right here. Where was her helmet? We’d all come downstairs together, all three of us. This wasn’t right at all.

  Subtle features in her facial expression had changed. Her brown bear eyes were sharp, more focused than they should be. Super Bear looked angry. Mean. As I stared at the sight of my missing bear, I thought I saw her blink! Yes, she did! The sides of her mouth were turned down and not smiling in her usual happy expression. There was a kind of red tinge around her eyes and nose too, as if someone had rubbed her face in red paint.

  Or blood.

  “Uncle Ashland!” I screamed without taking my eyes off the bear. A few seconds later, I could hear his footsteps running up behind me.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” AJ began crying from downstairs, probably because Uncle Ashland left him, but I could not take my eyes off the bear. As my uncle stood beside me on the stairs, I could feel him breathe a sigh of relief. “There she is. I wonder how she got up here…”

  And then he saw Super Bear’s expression too. He noticed the bloody face and the crazy eyes—the eyes that blinked. He scooped me up, and we hurried back downstairs to find AJ.

  I couldn’t stop crying.

  Chapter Fourteen—Carrie Jo

  “I thought you said the power was on at Gracefield, Mr. Cannon. It is pitch black out here,” I said with some hesitation as the car pulled down Blackberry Lane. What a whimsical name for a road, but there was nothing whimsical about what I was looking at. I didn’t mind roaming around in the darkness if I knew where I was, but exploring a house that I didn’t know in the dark, that was another story. Mr. Cannon flicked on the bright lights of his car. Pausing the vehicle on the dirt road for a moment to take a look, he glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Meru leaned forward and poked his head between us to get a peek at the house. “Huh. It’s probably a breaker or some bad wiring. I’ll check it out. Look, I think I see a light in the back.” With a side-eye glance, I shook my head. Did he think I was stupid or something? This wasn’t my first rodeo when it came to renovations, and the chances of the whole house being cloaked in darkness from a few bad wires were slim to none. But I was here now. Nothing to do but go with it. I suddenly wished my lie-detecting friend Detra Ann were here so she could help me get a read on these two men.

  I felt kind of sick. Kind of…oh, I knew that building. The car lights flashed across the yard and lit up a virtual swamp of underbrush, muddy ground and fallen flora. That was the springhouse! That was where I’d seen Amara stacking the rocks. “That’s it! That’s where I saw Amara. Stop the car here, please.” I didn’t even stop to think how much Mr. Cannon knew about my ability. What if he didn’t know anything at all? What had Jan told him? Gracefield loomed over the property, her curtainless windows beckoning to me, but I had to check out the springhouse first. Mr. Cannon had barely put the car in park when I jumped out. The ground was exactly as I saw it, muddy, but I was on a mission. Who cared if I lost a shoe? I had to find Amara. I had an uneasy feeling, like something was deeply wrong. Of course it was wrong. There was a woman missing. A woman who might also be a dream catcher.

  The unsettled tension did not diminish as I dug my phone out of my pocket and hit the flashlight app. Mr. Cannon was coming up behind me but didn’t want to wait for anyone. What was going on here? I could see evidence of multiple footprints on the ground. Lots of small footprints, like kids were hanging out here on a regular basis. “What size shoe does your daughter wear, Mr. Cannon?”

  “It’s Drew, please. Size seven last I heard, but I haven’t inquired recently. Why? What did you find? What do you know that I don’t?”

  “Look at the footprints. Small ones. Kid-sized, maybe. But not size sevens. These are much smaller than the average woman’s.” I waved my phone around but didn’t spot anything else. I heard the car pull away and saw Meru driving up the driveway. Must be going to check out the electrical problem.

  I opened the springhouse door and stepped inside. The room smelled musty, like wet moss and dirt. I heard the spring water flowing but couldn’t see my hands in front of my face. It was pitch black inside. “Maybe this will help,” Drew said as he flicked on his flashlight. “I never liked this place. Never. I don’t know why she bought it.” He hovered in the doorway; his fearful demeanor surprised me. He offered me the flashlight. “I don’t know what you hope to find out here.”

  “I hope to find Amara.” Hide your irritation, Carrie Jo. He’s just afraid for his daughter. “That’s why I am here, sir. Hey, is this normal? What is this?” I pointed the light at the stack of painted rocks. Some were blue, some were red, some were green. All had strange symbols painted on them. Squatting down, I began to sort through them.

  “Something the kids do now. It’s like geocaching. They paint rocks and hide them in different places. Then they tell other kids where they hid them and they go find them. It’s a big thing now, apparently. I used to be a principal, and kids were always coming up with things like this.”

  I handed a rock up to him, but he didn’t spend much time studying it. He handed it back in a few seconds. Plunking it down near the original pile of ten or so rocks, I glanced up at him. “Why would they hide them in here? Is this a popular destination for such activities? And what does the eye mean? Some sort of club?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have answers for any of those questions. That symbol is not indicative of any club or society I have ever heard of.”

  “Look, I can see faint footprints; they would be about a seven shoe size. They go from the pile of rocks here to that stream in the wall. Wait, I thought this was the spring. Are there two springs in here?”

  He studied the footsteps and said, “It’s not unusual for second streams to appear. It’s probably coming off the original stream. There’s really no point in keeping this building intact. I wish she’d tear it down, all of it.”

  “Drew, you can tell her that when we find her. In the meantime, I’m going to need you to put your feelings to the side and help me look for Amara. I came all this way to help you. Please, please, help me.”

  Drew wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and I heard him sob. “I can’t believe this. She’s been through so much already, but she won’t listen to me. We’ve kind of lost one another over the years, and with all she’s been through recently, it wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve lost her forever.”

  “Let’s find her, Drew. Let’s find her so you can make up for all those lost moments. I saw her in this room. She was looking at these rocks. She was following two girls—they got off the bus and came down this road.”

  Using the flashlight, I traced where the stone floor met the wooden walls. Even though the building was very old, there wasn’t so much as a crack between them except for the one location where water was spurting up. No trap doors or hidden rooms in here. The man in the hat, he’d been right there. “Let’s go outside and look around the building,” I suggested as I walked around the very small room one last time. I touched one of the painted rocks with my shoe and knocked the stack over. I handed the flashlight back to Drew and used my phone to take pictures of them. Maybe Rachel or Ashland knew
something about the painted eye. Maybe the design wasn’t anything at all except for a kid’s imagination, but that wouldn’t explain why there were so many.

  It was more like a shrine than any sort of rock collecting club. If I could find those two girls…

  Suddenly a bright light flashed through the open door. It filled the dark springhouse with light for a few seconds. Drew looked around and said, “Looks like Meru is getting closer to figuring out the wiring problem. Maybe I should go check on him.”

  “Go ahead, Drew. I’ll be right there. I just need a minute.”

  The thin black man didn’t leave right away. “I’ll be fine. Just going to walk around for a few minutes. I won’t go far,” I promised with a reassuring smile. He squished his hat in his hands a few seconds before plopping it back on his head. Drew left me alone, and I watched him walk to Gracefield. The seconds of illumination left the house in deeper darkness than before.

  You don’t have time to stand around pondering darkness, Carrie Jo. You’re running out of time. Amara is running out of time.

  Shifting my stance slightly, I stood in front of the closed door of the springhouse. I closed my eyes and focused on the wood. I found a notable notch in the wood, about at the center of the door. And just as the late Austin Simmons taught me, I focused on it. I thought about who would have left that notch there, how it would feel under my fingers. And then as easily as a person falls in a hole, I fell into the past.

  Chapter Fifteen—Kendal

  I walked in a fog the following day. Derry did not speak to me, and I offered no pathway to peace. Mr. Wade sent several letters to the post by way of one of our servants. I did not seek out his company but contented myself with tending to domestic matters. I needed time to think about all that had occurred recently. The encounter with the presence in my husband’s room had shaken me severely—so much so that I thought about leaving. Only one particular spirit would do something like that. Only one person would hate me that much—Grace. The lingering ghost of my husband’s first wife. Her message to me was clear. She wanted me to leave her home and Derry.

  Mr. Wade placed a tiny replica of Gracefield in front of me, and I was clean amazed at the beauty of his creation. He had so accurately recreated the house in miniature that I could not do anything but admire his fine work. “You have a talent for woodwork, Mr. Wade. A great talent. Is this gift for me?” I clapped my hands like a child.

  “Yes, it is. I was not sure that I would complete it before I left, but as this rain has settled in and delayed my leaving…” His deep voice wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket. “Does it please you?”

  “Yes, it does. It is Gracefield as she should be, as she will be one day. Thank you, Mr. Wade. Thanks to you, I can now see why my husband is so determined to finish the work here. It is even grander than I had imagined.” I smiled widely and instinctively covered my smile with my hands. I had a tendency to smile too broadly, or so I had heard all my life. Large smiles were not proper for ladies. Small, polite smiles were entirely proper. I could practically hear my sister’s voice in my ears.

  “Please do not hide your face. It is lovely to look upon, Mrs. Starlett.”

  I glanced down at my hands as I smiled even broader. “Very well.”

  “Leaving Gracefield is much more difficult than I had anticipated, but your husband and I have solved his building dilemma. The spring will be rerouted, and the foundation is no longer at risk.” I smiled again even though I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Derry never shared such details with me, but I was anxious to learn. I missed learning new things. Mr. Wade settled into the dining room chair next to me. He was not so close as to be inappropriate, but his closeness unexpectedly warmed my skin. “That is a rarity for me, to experience such affection for any one place. I am something of a traveler, as you may have gathered.”

  “It must be difficult to go from place to place and not have a home to call your own. Don’t you want that, Mr. Wade? To have a place of your own? And…a family? You would make a good father, I suspect. You are a patient and kind man,” I said stupidly without thinking about the obvious implication. That was also a bad habit that I had, speaking without thinking. Yes, I was skilled at saying the most inappropriate thing at the most inopportune times, but I was so hungry for company, besides Cadence and Mary and my husband, I was willing to risk it. Mr. Wade’s face displayed a myriad of emotions, all of which I was sure he did not mean for me to see. I did not know him very well, but I thought I recognized sadness and grief.

  What would possibly make such a handsome and successful man sad? Oh dear. Has he lost his wife? Maybe even a child or children? You’ve done it now, Kendal.

  “Marriage is a vocation that I have not been called to, Mrs. Starlett. I have had the opportunity, of course. But alas, it was not to be my destiny. I am not as fortunate as some men. I have to confess, and perhaps I should not confess it…I do envy your husband. Mr. Starlett has a rose growing in his own garden. Many men have to travel far to find such a rose. Now that he has found you, I hope, for your happiness, he values you as he should. You are a rare and lovely bloom, Mrs. Starlett.”

  Rather than scolding Mr. Wade for his forwardness, I blurted out, “Kendal, please. I insist you call me Kendal—at least when we are alone.”

  Mr. Wade squeezed my hand briefly. I was not expecting him to touch me, but I did not pull away. I cannot say why. “Thank you, Kendal.” Mr. Wade did not tell me his name although I waited to hear it. Instead, he appraised me with his lively eyes. His dark hair was mussed slightly, as if he’d walked outside in the wind for a while before returning to the house. Maybe he had. With the smallest of smiles, he rose from the wooden chair, his eyes never leaving my face. His hand reached for me, as if he would touch my cheek or maybe my hand again. I could not say what he intended.

  Cadence dropped a set of silver cups on a tray as she entered the dining room, and my husband was not far behind.

  “Ah, still here I see, Mr. Wade. I thought you left us this morning.” Derry was not as tall as Mr. Wade, nor as handsome, and the differences between them suddenly seemed very clear to me. And for the first time, I saw that Derry noticed the differences between them too and that they angered him. But why should he be angry? He hardly noticed me anymore. In fact, I wasn’t sure that he hadn’t just left her arms. Her silent arms.

  “The rain delays me, sir. The river is impassable. The rain has it rising above the banks, and I must cross it to get to my destination. I suppose I could find accommodation somewhere else if required.”

  “Nonsense, Mr. Wade. You are our guest. Tell him, Derry. We are not going to turn anyone out in this horrible weather. Where would he go?”

  Derry laughed, but it was a dry, unhappy sound. “Please, forgive my wife, Mr. Wade. She enjoys a sheltered existence here at Gracefield. She has not had the opportunity to visit the fine inn in Selma and the many boarding houses along our highways. There are many places for a man to lay his head, if he’s determined to find one.”

  “I have no intention of overstaying my welcome. I will leave at once, Mr. Starlett.”

  “No man can travel in this weather. Where are your manners, husband? It is true, there are many places for a man to lay his head, but a mud hole should not be one of them.” Derry’s icy gaze did not silence me. “We will have someone checking the river for you, Mr. Wade. No need to get drenched waiting for it to crest. Cadence will have dinner ready at seven, as usual.”

  Mr. Wade’s disappointed expression hurt my heart. What had changed Derry’s great opinion of our guest? Just a few days ago, they had been very friendly with one another. I could not help but wonder, although I was certain neither of them would tell me the truth. But there had been an upheaval. I did not want to believe Derry could be so mean-spirited, but his indifference toward Mr. Wade’s plight left me with no other option.

  “Pardon me,” Mr. Wade mumbled as he left us alone in the dining room. Derry’s freckled cheeks reddened slightly, b
ut he did not back down and his unhappiness was unmistakable. I noticed he did not commit to us his planned course of action. As Mr. Wade left, my husband’s eyes fell on the small wooden structure, the miniature of Gracefield. With one swoop of his hand, he flung it across the room and smashed it to pieces.

  “What the devil has gotten into you, Derry? You invited Mr. Wade here. And now that you’ve got what you wanted from him, now that he’s provided you with the answer you needed about the spring, you want to cast him out. I cannot believe that you would be so unkind to someone who has done such a good thing for us. And this…why would you destroy this? Until today, I could not imagine what you were building. You’ve destroyed it, Derry!”

  Derry’s pulse raced as evidenced by the throbbing vein in his neck. His unbuttoned top collar hinted at his flushing, angry complexion. Oh yes, he was angry with me for defying him, and in front of his former friend.

  “I have fulfilled my obligation with Mr. Wade. It wasn’t your place to say otherwise, Kendal. I’ll not have that man under my roof one more day. Not after what I know, what I have learned about him, facts that cast a great shadow on his character. And then I find him in my home courting my own wife. I am trying to save us both from unnecessary heartache and scandal, Kendal.”

  “You accuse me of such a thing when I know where your true affections lie? You don’t think I know about you and her? I know why you never touch me. It’s because of her!” I shouted at my husband in a fit of unexpected rage. I could hear Mr. Wade’s footsteps above us.