“Omigod,” Ashlyn breathed.
“It’s evil, Ashlyn. Stay away from it. Stay as far away from it as you can. Nothing good can ever come from that damned thing! If you listen, it will tell you things.”
“About the future? About the train? That conductor?”
“Things you don’t want to know. Things we don’t talk about.”
Maudette got up and walked away. Ashlyn followed her grandmother from the tiny office through the barn and out into the early morning. The sun was pushing up past the horizon now and birdsong filled the air. The first stirring of a breeze played through the leaves of the big maple in the yard.
So normal.
Ashlyn looked up at the old farmhouse, at her bedroom window still ajar with the mosquito screen in it, at the sun glinting on the old aluminum roofing.
Rubbing the goosebumps from her arms, she followed her grandmother back into the silent house.
Chapter 5
A LITTLE SLEEP MADE all the difference in the world.
She’d gone back to bed immediately when they’d come in from the kennels. To Ashlyn’s surprise, she’d fallen asleep quickly, and she’d slept dreamlessly for three hours. The moment she woke, though, the memories rushed back in on her. The damned indestructible radio, trapping Maudette here all those years, intent on foisting on her its unwelcome, deadly predictions.
An evil train. Man, she had to talk to Rachel about that.
She heard it then, the joyous barking of one of the dogs and that full, male belly laugh. That was probably what had woken her. She slipped out of bed and went to the window, careful to conceal herself better this time.
Yep, the same boy. Caden What’s-His-Name. He wore a long sleeved shirt today — it was much cooler this morning than it had been that other evening — but there was no hiding that hard body beneath. Even if she hadn’t seen him shirtless, she couldn’t have missed that lean, coiled strength.
She smiled. This was exactly what she needed. The perfect diversion.
And she had the perfect outfit.
Fifteen minutes later, she checked herself in the mirror. Her blond hair was twisted up into a casual knot at the back of her head. Or rather, a casual-looking knot. It had taken her most of a summer to master that particular feat of engineering. It had to hold securely, yet you wanted it to come down when a guy pulled out that one strategic pin…. She stood on tiptoe and angled her body for a better view of her butt in the dresser-top mirror. She grinned. Oh, yeah. The bootcut Sevens in the Soho wash were worth every penny. And the Hurley cami tank and her Etnies skate shoes completed her best notice me outfit.
Ashlyn found Maudette in her den on the phone to what sounded like a customer.
“Going out to the kennels,” Ashlyn mouthed.
Maudette nodded and went back to her customer.
Ashlyn ate two pieces of bacon from the plate on the counter, grabbed a coffee and headed for the barn. She followed the sound of Caden’s voice through the building and out back, to the big fenced dog run. Leaning on the barn’s doorframe, she sipped her coffee and watched, waiting for him to notice he wasn’t alone. Not that she was in any hurry. She was quite happy watching him chuck tennis balls for the goofy Airedales and handing out laughing praise and a scratch on the head when they returned them. Plus it gave her an opportunity to study him at closer range.
The first thing she noticed was his clothes. Decidedly urban, but definitely not what you’d call hood wear. His jeans — designer ones, she noted — fit well instead of bagging, and the long-sleeved woven shirt he wore was tailored to conform to his body. Sort of urban preppy, but not without a little edge. She half-expected to see some kind of dress shoe on his feet, but when her eyes finally dropped down that far (strange how they lingered), she saw he wore a sweet pair of Circas.
His hair was cut short, but the hairline was natural, none of the sharp, defined edges her friends back in TO liked. They’d have called this a Denzel do. Disparagingly. But Ashlyn liked it. It sorta went with the clothes.
It was Lolly-Pup who gave her away. The dog was returning a tennis ball when she noticed Ashlyn. Dropping the ball three feet short of Caden, she gave a happy yip and raced toward Ashlyn.
Caden turned, a wide smile on his handsome face. The smile faded quickly. “Oh. I was expecting Mrs. Caverhill.”
Well, not quite the reaction she was going for. “Guess you’ll have to settle for Miss Caverhill.” Ashlyn pushed away from the doorframe and walked toward Caden. “I’m Maudette’s granddaughter, Ashlyn.”
“I figured.” He turned to watch the dogs.
I figured? What kind of a response was that? And why wasn’t he looking at her?
A dog glided up and nudged him, trying to return a tennis ball. With a “Good girl, Roxy” and a scratch on the head, he took the ball and flung it again. Tongue lolling, Roxy raced after it, two other dogs on her heels.
Ashlyn’s tongue was just about lolling too, but for a different reason. The boy had those muscles for a reason, it seemed. This close, she could almost feel the coil and release of energy as the yellow ball all but exploded from his hand.
When a few seconds had passed, she became conscious of the silence. And of the fact that she was pretty much staring at him. She looked down at her Etnies, toed the grass a bit.
Another dog galumphed up, and Caden repeated the process, this time saying, “Good boy, Hector.”
“You know them all by name?”
“Most of them.” He glanced at her briefly, then looked away again, his gaze settling on a pair of young dogs play-fighting in the far corner of the enclosure.
“They all look the same to me,” Ashlyn confessed. “Except Lolly-Pup. Right, girl?” She knelt to pat the dog, which practically vibrated with happiness at the attention. But making Lolly-Pup happy was not her primary motivation. Drawing Caden’s eye was. Lolly-Pup flopped down to invite a belly rub. Laughing, Ashlyn obliged. And when she looked up from under her lashes, Caden was watching her. Intently.
There! That’s what I’m talking about. He likes!
Of course, he looked away quickly.
Ashlyn stood, brushing dog hairs from her jeans. “So, I hear your family’s here for the year.”
“That’s right,” he said, keeping his eyes on the dogs.
“Your dad’s a prof, right? And you’re home schooled? That’s why I don’t see you at school?”
“Yes.”
Geez. Spill your guts, why doncha? She took a breath and tried again. “You like it? The home school thing, I mean.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
She moved a little closer. Not too close. Not threatening, in-your-space close. Just … closer. While he didn’t exactly give ground, she could tell he wanted to. And what the hell was up with that? Was everything different here than it was in the city? Even basic boy/girl stuff?
Unless he was….
No. No way. Not gay. Not the way he’d looked at her for … like … all of that split second.
Just because he likes a female form doesn’t mean he likes you, Ash. And why should he? He didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve, as it were. And what was she trying to prove anyway? Suddenly ashamed of her childish bid for attention, she bent to pick a blade of grass, using it as an opportunity to move away again. God, she was such a jerk.
“It’s a little weird,” he said.
She turned back toward him. “Excuse me?”
He dipped his head. “The home schooling thing. It’s kinda weird. Especially when we move to a new place.” He took an incoming tennis ball from one of the big males and threw it. “Makes it hard to meet people, you know?”
“I can imagine,” she said, but her hormones were busy going oh wow oh wow oh wow again at the display of power when he’d thrown the ball. “But you met Maudette.”
“Yeah. Through my photography. I begged her to let me shoot her dogs.”
“She told me.” Ashlyn nodded toward the barn. “Did you take that one of Lolly-Pup
in Maudette’s office?”
He nodded. “A couple of others, too.”
“In the bamboo frames?” At his nod, she said, “I figured. They look like high art compared to the rest.”
He grinned, and she felt a flutter in her chest.
“Yeah, the others do kind of look like doggie mug shots, don’t they?”
Ashlyn smiled right back at him. “More like doggie driver’s license photos. There’s one with its ear askew and another with gleaming red devil eyes. Bet they’d ask for a do-over if they could.”
Caden laughed. “Oh, and how about the one with its lip hung up on one side?”
She giggled. “God yes! He looks like Elvis.” She curled up her lip. “Thank you very much.”
Another dog presented him with a tennis ball and he obliged by throwing it again.
“I’d love to see more of your work,” Ashlyn said. “Maybe I could go to your place sometime to have a look?”
His smile evaporated. “I don’t think so. My parents aren’t much for company.”
Ashlyn blinked. Wow, no wonder he had trouble meeting people. First the home school thing, and then the no company rule.
Unless….
Maybe it was only certain people who couldn’t be invited over. Like the offspring of certified nut cases. The community pariahs.
Except he was working for one of them, wasn’t he? Of course, maybe it was okay to take their money as long as you didn’t socialize with them.
“I could bring some over next time I work,” he offered. “I’ve got one of those photo viewers. It’s like a pocket-sized photo album.”
“Sure,” she said, hating how tight her voice sounded. “That’d be great.”
Yeah, frickin’ great. Just peachy.
“Ashlyn?”
The female voice came from beside the barn. Ashlyn turned to see Rachel standing in the doorway. Or rather, a figure who had to be Rachel. Looking from bright sunlight into darkness, she couldn’t make out her face, but no one else wore long skirts and long sleeved black tunics on a warm September day.
“Hey, Rachel,” she called. “Come on out.”
As the other girl stepped into the fenced exercise yard, she was mobbed by four Airedales. Clearly — and fortunately — she wasn’t scared of dogs, because she laughed as they surged around her.
“I’ll take care of this,” Caden said, scooping up some tennis balls from the nearby bucket. “Here, dogs!” he called. “Come get a ball.”
The dogs abandoned Rachel to race over to him.
Smiling, Ashlyn walked over to Rachel, but as she drew closer, her smile froze. Holy crap! Rachel looked awful, like she hadn’t slept. And omigod, was that a bruise on her cheek?
“God, Rachel, are you okay?”
“Hell, yeah. Fine. Don’t I look it?” She laughed, but it was a harsh sound.
“No, you don’t.” Ashlyn’s brows drew together. “You look like crap and you know it, so why don’t you just tell me what happened?”
She shrugged, tugging the sleeves of her tunic down and holding them there with her fingers. “I stayed out most of the night and missed my beauty sleep. No biggie.”
Ashlyn’s stomach clenched. Knowing what she knew now about the weirdness afoot in Podunk, the idea of Rachel being out there on her own was terrifying.
“By yourself?”
“Well, duh. Of course by myself. Remember who you’re talking to here. Besides, like I told you, everyone else just pulls the covers tighter when they hear the train. They don’t venture outside.”
“Wait … the train … the whistle…. You heard it last night?”
“Yup. Didn’t you?”
“No, I must have slept right through it.”
Or maybe you couldn’t hear it over the radio. Or the gunfire.
Or maybe her ear just wasn’t tuned to it. Maybe it would never waken her. Except that might be too much to hope for.
“Huh. That’s weird,” Rachel said. “I wonder why you didn’t hear it?”
“I must have fallen asleep listening to my iPod,” she lied, reluctant to mention the radio. “So if you went out last night alone, then how’d you get that?” Ashlyn gestured to her face. “What happened to your cheek?”
“Oh, that.” Rachel touched the flesh, which was slightly swollen and had to be painful. “Just a love tap from my father. A little welcome home when I crept in at three o’clock.”
“Your father did that?”
“Hey, no big thang.” Rachel shifted her weight from one red canvass Ked to the other. “I’ve had worse experiences in the schoolyard.” She frowned. “Actually, a lot worse.” Her expression cleared, as though she’d pushed the schoolyard unpleasantness right out. “So don’t sweat it. Really, Ash.”
Ash already? They’d only known each other a few days. But it felt good. Right.
“Hey, I’ll worry about you if I want to,” she said. “But, I can take a hint, Rach. I’ll shut up about it already. I just hope I never run into your father,” she muttered darkly.
Rachel snorted. “Me too. You wouldn’t like him. Now, can you call your hottie back here and introduce him?”
“He’s not mine,” she protested. “I just met him a minute ago. And he barely looked at me.”
Rachel’s gaze swept Ashlyn from head to toe. “Not from lack of trying, I see.”
Ashlyn blushed. “Hey, just trying to level the playing field. Do you see the threads that boy is rocking?”
Rachel shrugged. “It’s jeans and a shirt.”
“Jeans and a shirt? Rach, those are Citizens of Humanity jeans. And that shirt…. I don’t know who makes it, but it’s very nice.”
“Omigod, how do you know this stuff? How do you even notice?”
“Dude, there were 1100 people at my high school. It’s not easy to stand out.”
Rachel grinned. “Betcha I would.”
Ashlyn snorted. “More likely you’d have created your own following. Then you’d have the Goth girls cornering you after school to give you a beat down.”
“Ah, but I’d have my long-skirted minions to protect me.”
“You have minions?” A smiling Caden pulled up beside them. “You sound like someone I should meet.”
Rachel smiled, suddenly not looking the least bit tired or awful.
“Absolutely. Unfortunately, that’s in an alternate universe.” She stuck out her hand and Caden took it. “Rachel Riley.”
“Caden Williams. Pleased to meet you, Rachel.”
“Likewise.”
Caden’s gaze sharpened as he took in the bruise on Rachel’s face, but he said nothing. Rachel also noticed that he noticed. Ashlyn could practically feel the other girl’s gratitude when he didn’t remark on it.
Rachel jumped in, obviously to steer the conversation in another direction. “So, did you hear the train last night?” she asked. “Sleeping Beauty here was dead to the world and didn’t hear a thing.”
“The ghost train, you mean?” Caden said.
Rachel lifted an eyebrow. A pretty subtle reaction for her, Ashlyn thought. And there was no doubt the other girl was surprised. For good reason. The locals didn’t talk to outsiders about the ghost train, or so Maudette had said. They didn’t want to bring down on their heads a scourge of idiot “ghostbusters”, nor did they want their little village to become a stop on a freak show tour.
“Wow, you’re pretty well informed,” Rachel said. “I’d have thought it would have taken longer to get plugged in to the gossip pipeline, what with your family being such homebodies.”
Ashlyn winced, waiting for Caden to stiffen, given the defensiveness she’d sensed in him when she’d forced him into saying his parents didn’t enjoy company. But to her surprise, he just laughed.
“You seem pretty plugged in yourself, Rachel Riley, if you’ve got us all figured out already.”
“Plugged in? Me?” Rachel snorted. “Not quite. But I do get around a lot, and I see what I see.”
“Me too,” Caden
said. “With my camera.” He glanced at Ashlyn, and she imagined he was thinking about their earlier discussion. He turned back to Rachel. “But that’s not how I know about the ghost train, from talking to folks. I heard the legend from my dad. That’s what he’s here researching.”
Ashlyn’s eyes widened. “He’s researching the ghost train?” Holy crap. If he’d come here to delve into paranormal phenomena, would he wind up on the Caverhill doorstep, asking about the damned radio?
Caden shook his head. “No, not that, specifically. He’s researching the broader history of troop trains in the New England area. But the legend does keep coming up.”
“So, did you hear it? The whistle last night?” Rachel asked again.
“I heard a steam whistle like the old trains used to have, yes.”
“But you don’t think it was the ghost train?”
Caden grinned. “I think it’s someone who wants you all to believe there’s a ghost train.”
“Well you old skeptic, you,” said Rachel. “You think it’s a hoax!”
Caden shrugged. “Be easy enough to do. If I had a proper P.A. system, I could do it myself with my computer and my father’s software. I could emulate an old steam whistle such as we heard last night. Or I can simulate the sound of a locomotive approaching and then fading away. And I can do it convincingly. I mean, I can give you rail clack to simulate wheels rolling over rail joints. Of course, I could ruin the effect just as quickly with the flip of a switch, turning that steam whistle into a diesel horn.”
As Caden spoke, Ashlyn felt hope rising in her chest. Maybe he was right! Maybe some misguided resident of Prescott Junction was trying to keep the legend alive, or somehow preserve the railroad town’s history, by creeping out at night with a laptop and a portable sound system and playing eerie train sounds. God, if that were the case, all she’d have to worry about was the stupid radio. And that she could ignore, surely. Like Maudette had.
“Dude! That’s good!” Rachel said. “Wrong, but good. Very plausible.”
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