How could Nolan have done this to them? She’d trusted him.
“Are you listening to me, sugar bee?” Polly asked.
“No.” It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t been paying attention. Footsteps sounded upstairs, and she assumed it was her brother checking for damage on the second floor.
“The reason why your magic keeps misfiring is because you’re trying too hard to control it. It’s like breathing. When you’re not thinking about breathing, it happens as it’s meant to. When you concentrate on it, the act stops being automatic, you lose your rhythm, and you need the practice to find it again. Magic and mind must become one.”
“Whatever you say, sensei,” Lily answered. Thank goodness the trust was paying for the damage. Maybe now that she knew about the council trying to run her out of town, all this nonsense would stop.
Feeling a chill, she looked at the back door. Stan stood with a big grin on his face as he stared at Polly. He took off his hat and smoothed down his hair like he was about to ask her on a date. A glance at her aunt told Lily the woman didn’t appear to see the ghost. When she looked back, Stan met her eyes. He slapped his hat on his leg and cackled before he disappeared.
“…new luck potion is about ready,” Polly was saying. Lily had stopped paying attention again and had to force herself to listen. “We’ll be able to help with the worst cases of bad luck in town if we can get them to agree to take it.”
“That could go a long way toward creating goodwill within the…” Lily’s words trailed off as she caught movement in the window. The image of her pregnant mother stood on the lawn, facing the barn, just as she had the first time Lily saw her. “Mom.”
“Marigold is here?” Polly rushed to her side. “Herman, be a good boy—and darn it, Lugwick get out of his water. Herman can’t play right now. You two behave. I’ll be right back.”
Lily hurried out the back door. The ground was still damp from the evening before. She ran through the mud. “Mom?”
Marigold stared at the collapsed barn. The ghost didn’t acknowledge her.
“Marigold.” Lily tried to get her attention. The pregnant belly faded away as did her mother’s youth. Lily stopped in front of the ghost. Perhaps Marigold’s manifestation hadn’t been a message for Lily to remember the good with the bad. Maybe her mother was simply locked in some kind of spiritual purgatory. Polly joined her on the yard. “Polly, do you see her?”
“No. I can feel her, but her message isn’t for me.” Polly lifted her hands as if detecting the general area where Marigold stood. “Hello, old friend.”
If Marigold heard, she didn’t let on.
“Tell me what you see,” Polly said.
“Same as last time. She’s pregnant and young, and then she’s not.” Lily looked around. “She’s fixated on where the barn used to stand.”
“Oh, clever, clever woman,” Polly said.
“Do you understand her?” Lily couldn’t take her eyes off her mother’s face, even as the woman seemed to gaze through her.
“No, but whatever it is, it’s very clever,” Polly answered.
“Maybe it’s the barn?” Lily had a hard time walking away from the ghost, but she went toward the rubble. To her, it was simply a charred, wet, broken pile of junk. “Did my mom have a thing for barns?”
“Not that I can remember. She did enjoy almonds though,” Polly answered.
A chill worked over Lily. It was a sensation she was beginning to recognize. More ghosts were coming.
She turned to see that the white humanoid blurs were back. Their expressions began to take shape, filling in until she could see their faces. Most of them were men in dirty overalls and large jackets. Their brimmed hats came in a variety of shapes. The feral black cat appeared close by, hissing at the ghosts.
A man at the front of the gathering had a gaping wound in his head, which he covered with a hat. His thick mustache stretched down his cheeks. Anger brewed in his eyes. This was not like the blurry figures of before. Their bodies were dense, losing their transparency.
This was definitely not something she could blame on Nolan.
They were the miners from the accident long ago. Nolan had said a hundred and eighteen workers had died in the collapse. As she scanned over the spirit gathering, she silently started estimating their numbers.
Six. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. Too many…
“Polly,” Lily whispered. “I think we need to run.”
“Naked in the moonlight? Yay!” Polly clapped her hands. Ethereal eyes turned toward her aunt at the sound. “Exercise is—”
“No, Polly, ghosts. Angry ghosts.” She kept her voice low. “Like a hundred of them.”
Something clanked in the distance, metal chipping away at rock, one strong strike and then a skitter like a metal tip bouncing.
Lily grabbed Polly’s wrist and pulled. The woman shivered violently, slipping free. Angry mustache ghost moved, the step more like a glide. Lily reached for Polly a second time. They needed to run.
“Oh, dear, I see what you mean,” Polly said, as if Lily’s touch had cleared her vision to what was happening around them. “What do they—oh, hello, Marigold. There you are.”
The clank sounded again. Each miner took a step forward and then stopped, commanded by the sound.
“Who’s doing that?” Polly scolded. “Everyone knows that ghost armies are forbidden in accordance with the Compostella Treaty of 1457.”
“What are you talking about? Nobody knows that.” Lily forced the woman to back away with her.
“What, then, are they teaching you kids in school?” Polly clicked her tongue in disappointment.
The clank of metal on stone struck again, repeating several times.
“What do we do?” Lily asked her aunt. She looked up at the house, trying to detect her brother in the windows. He wasn’t there, and she didn’t want to call out to him and let the ghosts know he was nearby.
“Get behind the gnomes,” her aunt ordered.
“Aunt Polly, I’m being serious.”
“Sugar bee, so am I. I told you it never hurts to have an army of garden gnomes protecting your property, especially a house as magical as this one.” She motioned toward the side yard.
The small statues were lined up in rows where before there had been empty grass and mud. They were all there—toilet gnome reading his paper, gnomes holding baskets and flowers, cross-legged gnome, one hiding under a ceramic mushroom, the mother and her gnome baby... all of them. The gnome from the front porch held a sign in front of the formation that read, “To the ready.” The black cat hid behind the back row.
“Gnomes versus ghosts?” Lily muttered in disbelief. “Today will not end well.”
“Isn’t it fascinating?” This time, Polly grabbed Lily’s arm and pulled her from between the two armies. The clank sounded, and the ghosts advanced. The gnomes didn’t move. Another clank. A miner wearing overalls with one strap undone stepped through her mother, causing Marigold to disappear.
And the gnomes did nothing.
Lily ran to the statues and grabbed toilet gnome. She held him over her head, ready to launch. Polly made a sharp noise of dismay and ran after her, jumping to pry the gnome from Lily’s hands. She put him back in his place.
Polly lifted her arms and yelled, “Show yourself.”
The clank stopped as did the ghosts the sound led to battle.
A figure moved through the ghost army. Lily leaned to the side. Long dark hair blew into her view. A woman dragged an old pickaxe on the ground.
It was the drifter from Unlucky Valley.
“Mara?” Lily asked in confusion. “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
The woman didn’t answer as she lifted the pickaxe over her head. She charged with a growl forming in her throat. As she brought the pickaxe down, the weapon veered to the left and struck the ground. The ghost army advanced.
“Is this about the other day? My brother is fine.” Lily dodged as Mara swung again. “No one want
s to hurt you. I promise.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mara said, “but I need you to leave this place.”
“What you saw was a family misunderstanding,” Lily tried to keep her tone reasonable. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“Of course it concerns me,” Mara cried. Her eyes flashed with purple and gray, swirling as if possessed by a storm. “This is our land. We bled for it. We paid for it with bone!”
Was Mara one of them? Was she dead? They had found her in Unlucky Valley.
“What are you—?”
“And we will take it back!” Mara swung and missed several times, but that didn’t stop her from trying until her arms could no longer lift the weapon.
“Polly, if your gnomes are going to do anything, now would be a great time,” Lily insisted. Pregnant Marigold reappeared, just as unhelpful as before. Trust her mother to stand aside doing nothing as her children struggled to survive.
“I knew I had a bad feeling about her,” Polly answered. “Mara is as sour as a bad pickle. You should have never brought her here, Lily.”
Mara breathed hard, her gaze going from rigid to pleading. “It’s getting difficult to hold the others back. It doesn’t need to end like this. You can run. Just go. Don’t come back to Lucky Valley. I tried to scare you away. I know you were trying to be kind when you invited me here and I left before they could make me... argh.”
Mara’s arms shook as she again lifted the pickaxe.
“You need to leave. Just leave. Let us have it,” Mara cried, cracking her pickaxe down into the earth so hard, it lodged in place. “Too late.”
The ghosts marched toward Lily, soundlessly attacking.
“Run!” Lily yelled.
Polly moved to stand in formation with the gnomes, squatting and holding very still in a strange pose.
Lily felt a cold hand grip her shoulder and another clamp around her ankle. The mob of spirits pulled her to the ground. Freezing cold invaded her body and stole her breath. Her lungs burned in need as the pressing mass of spectral bodies tried to suffocate her. She felt their anger, but also their fear. They were locked in a terrifying moment of the past. When they touched her, she was overcome with flashes of rocks falling and men screaming until the dust choked them. Her head became faint and she could no longer thrash as the energy drained out of her limbs.
Warmth found her arm in the cold cocoon. The touch gave her the energy she needed to ward off the spirits. Power pulsed out of her, expelling the ghosts from around her.
Mara screamed. Lily was pulled across the ground. She inhaled deeply, gasping for breath. She flung, fighting the hand that held her. She freed herself and began to crawl through the mud to safety.
“Lily, it’s me, Nolan.” Nolan was suddenly kneeling in front of her, holding her face in his hands. For a moment, she forgot what he’d done and was elated to see him. “Look at me. Breathe.”
“They’re coming,” Lily managed to say. She tried to push past him. The feeling of death and fear still clung to her.
“Everyone, stop,” Polly ordered. “I understand now. Marigold gave birth in the barn. That’s what she was trying to say.”
That didn’t appear to be the message the ghosts wanted to get across. Lily highly doubted anyone cared where Marigold gave birth.
Lily looked back to see Polly rocking back and forth to pull the pickaxe from the ground. The second it released, and Polly held it in her hands, the ghost army dissipated. Her aunt tossed the weapon on the pile of barn rubble.
Mara lay on the ground, pushing up in a daze, only to fall down again. Whatever energy pulsed out of Lily had obviously incapacitated the woman. Her body seized, white mist coming out of her chest in the form of an angry miner. The spirit glared at her them before he too dispersed into thin air.
“That’s better,” Polly said with an audible sigh. “Whew.”
“I was born in a barn? How does that matter?” Lily frowned. She clung to Nolan when he tried to stand. He helped her to her feet and stayed close.
“You’ve been a bad girl, pickle.” Polly stared down at Mara. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head like a disappointed school teacher.
“This house is ours,” Mara mumbled defiantly, as if dazed. “I won’t let it go. I don’t care if the law says I’m not of Goode blood. I belong here.”
“Lily, it’s not safe here. Let me take your family into town and we can sort this out.” Nolan tried to urge her away from the yard.
Lily ignored him and refused to follow. She shivered, still cold from where the ghosts had touched her. Her clothes were caked with mud and the weight pulled uncomfortably at her. “Will someone tell me what is going on? No more lies and secrets.” She gave a pointed look at Polly. “And no more nonsensical explanations.”
“All you need to know is that you’re leaving, Lily Goode. They’ll never let you keep this place.” Mara sat up, but her arms hung slack by her sides, and she didn’t pose much of a threat. “We won’t stop. We never stop. The dead don’t sleep.”
“Who is we?” Lily looked around. Nolan tried to hold on and his arms tightened around her shoulders. The ghost army had left. The useless gnomes were still in formation, doing nothing. Marigold’s image was fading fast. “You’re all alone.”
“My family.” Mara tilted her jaw downward but kept her gaze fixed on Lily. “My friends.”
“Ghosts are not friends,” Polly admonished. “I think you know this.”
“I’ll live here with my father,” Mara insisted.
“No, pickle,” Polly denied. “That will never happen. Your father is—”
“Will someone explain to me what is happening?” Lily practically shouted to be heard. She turned to Polly and demanded, “Who is this woman? What is she?”
“Lily, I’d like you to meet your half-sister, Amaryllis Clementine Goode.” Polly relaxed her stance. “Isn’t that right, Amaryllis?”
“Her name is Mara Edison from Albuquerque, New Mexico. She said she glowed in the dark as her supernatural power.” Lily shook her head in denial, unable to believe what she was hearing. “It’s obvious she’s somehow connected to the ghost miners... maybe she’s one of them?” She frowned at Mara. “Are you dead?”
“I’m only half dead on my father’s side,” Mara argued. Her voice became louder, and she shifted her weight on the ground. Her strength was returning.
“The lawyer said my youngest sister is dead,” Lily continued, walking to stand over the woman, “and you even said you’re not a Goode.”
“No, I said my blood wasn’t Goode blood. Joseph Goode wasn’t my father, but Marigold was as much my mother as she was yours. She became pregnant after your father had his accident off the side of the quarry,” Mara said. “That little fact does make it difficult to claim my childhood home. The family trust is all about being of the right blood, and the fact that mine is Crawford witch and not Goode, well…”
“This isn’t funny.” Nolan tried to stand protectively in front of Lily as if to shield her from the truth.
Lily didn’t want his protection. Before she could answer, Deputy Herczeg came from the front of the house.
“Dante passed out on the porch but he’s coming too,” the deputy said. “There doesn’t appear to be any injuries, but I put him in my vehicle.” She came to a halt, instantly raising her hand and slowing her approach. She looked at the gnome formation and gave it a wide berth as she walked around it. “Would someone care to explain what’s going on?”
No one answered the deputy’s question.
“Arrest her. She’s the one who’s been vandalizing the house.” Nolan pointed at Mara. “Trespassing, assault—”
Lily jerked away from him. “You’re one to talk after what you did. Stay out of it.”
“Lily,” Nolan’s tone pleaded with her to listen.
“Why are you even here, Nolan? I fired you. We don’t need your input,” Lily dismissed.
“I came here to explain,” he said.
Lily ignored him and went cautiously toward her sister.
Mara pushed to her feet but appeared unsteady. Lily searched the woman’s features, but Mara did not look like their mother. Their eyes met, and Mara glanced away first. Whatever had happened—or was happening to the woman—there was a much deeper story involved. She could not take things at face value. She needed answers. She was tired of the mystery surrounding everything in Lucky Valley.
Marigold reappeared. Mara limped over to the ghost and patted the pregnant belly, apparently able to touch the transparent figure. The stomach swirled like smoke, stirred by Mara’s hand. “Polly is right. I was born in that barn. I was raised in this place.” The stomach disappeared, and Marigold’s face changed. “They say I did that to her. Having an evil spawn growing inside of her drove her to insanity.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Nolan denied. “I’ve never seen you. I’ve never heard of you. If Marigold had a baby, people would have talked.”
“Why do you think I was born in a barn? I always hated that place. I’m glad it’s gone.” Mara chuckled, though the sound held little humor. She winced and held her side. “I’m Marigold’s little, dirty secret that she didn’t want getting out.”
Lily tried to feel a connection to the woman, but it was hard, especially when Mara had been swinging a pickaxe only moments before. “I’m sorry if our mother did something to you. She had issues. Some women aren’t meant to be mothers, I guess. She abandoned me at a fire station with Jesse and Dante.”
Mara pouted out her bottom lip and taunted, “Oh, poor Lily. Her mommy left her at a fire station to be raised by strangers. Boo-hoo. At least you had each other.”
“Don’t mock my pain,” Lily warned. She felt her skin tingling as if magic tried to erupt.
“Our mother feared what my father’s power had done to me, so she kept me locked away from other children. Sometimes in that barn like an animal. Sometimes, if I was good, she let me into the house. She was so scared I would harm other children if I was allowed out into the world. She said I suck the life out of everything I touch. It’s true, too. You saw her. I sucked the life out of her. I can’t be around people. I need this house—it’s my home. The ghosts are my friends, my family. I can’t leave them, and they are tied to this land.”
Better Haunts and Garden Gnomes: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery - A Happily Everlasting World Novel ((Un)Lucky Valley Book 1) Page 17