Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

by T. M. Franklin

  Eyes were watching her. She could feel them. Looking first left and then right, she saw nothing unusual; no one was on the porch with her or in the yard. Only her duffle bag, her purse, and herself.

  "Get on with it!" she ordered herself. Raising her hand, she knocked before she could stop herself a third time. One, two, three sharp connections. They weren't too soft or too impatient. Hopefully, they were loud enough to be heard by whoever might be inside.

  Instantly the door swung open, as if someone waited just inside, anticipating her arrival. Only there was no one standing on the other side of the door. Icy tingles shot from the base of her spine all the way to her scalp.

  Three steps carried her past the door. Once she was in the foyer, the door swung closed as silently as it had opened.

  The interior of the house was as immaculate as the outside was neglected. The wide central hallway appeared as it must have when the house was new with not a speck of dust or a cobweb in sight. The pre-Victorian theme found outside was evident here as well.

  Large Persian rugs covered a shiny wooden floor whose patina glowed golden. The walls and ceiling were bright white. There were no pictures covering the walls. The hallway contained only a coat rack in the corner behind the front door next to a doorway to the left and a small table near the arched doorway in the right wall. The entry was ten feet wide, except where a staircase came down from the upper rooms, using half its width.

  The air was scented but not the flower-in-a-can imitation air sprays that always made Ariel sneeze. Though only one small bouquet of flowers graced the nearest tabletop, she could not identify the fragrance. Could those few flowers provide such a powerful yet delicate scent?

  She forced thoughts of furniture and flowers from her mind. She needed to find whoever lived there and announce herself. She didn't want to be accused of breaking and entering. It wouldn't look good to be arrested the same day she was released from a juvenile facility. "Hello? Is anyone home? I knocked and the door opened. Please don't call the cops. I'm not a burglar." She filled the silence with a running conversation as she shifted toward the wide arched opening to her left.

  It was the living room. The focus of the room was a large stone fireplace that covered the far wall. From the leather and wood furnishings, it was obvious this was a man's domain, though the lace curtains and bowl of flowers on the mantle spoke of a woman's presence in the house.

  Ariel slowly edged her way around the room and paused to examine the curtains. The lace was finely woven. They certainly weren't from Wal-Mart or the J.C. Penney's catalogue. She'd never seen anything like them.

  Feeling invisible eyes on her again, Ariel turned back to the main hall. She halted at the doorway as if she'd hit a wall. A warm bar spanned her waist and a puff of warm air caressed her cheek. The scents of horse, tobacco, cinnamon, and healthy male surrounded her.

  But she was alone in the room, wasn't she? Half turning, she glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze darted to the corners and shadows of the room. Other than the furniture and those delicate curtains, the room was empty. Facing the hall, Ariel stepped forward, this time moving into the hall without pause. The warmth across her middle from the strange interlude remained with her.

  "Hello? I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long." The disembodied voice came at her from above and to her left.

  Ariel flushed. She'd been caught snooping. Some people might consider her actions rude and invasive. Really she was just curious about the house. Fingering the old picture she carried in her pocket, she turned and found herself face to knees with a vision out of a history book.

  The woman's pale wrinkles blended one into the next, rearranging themselves when she smiled in greeting. It was a warm smile, a smile of recognition as if she knew Ariel. Her powder white hair was pulled straight back from her face, falling nearly to her waist in an intricate braid. She had an ageless beauty. If she claimed her age to be sixty or a hundred and twenty, Ariel would have agreed.

  Her sky blue dress covered her from the ruffle at the base of her neck to the hem an inch above the floor. Cotton lace and toes of pointy black shoes peeked out from under the hem.

  Who was this woman? Why was she dressed like this? Halloween was months away.

  The woman descended the last few steps, then crossed to stand in front of Ariel. Clear blue eyes studied her from a vantage point six inches below her own. After a long moment, with a growing smile, she said, "You're here already. I wrote Jeffrey of the position only yesterday."

  2

  “Ma’am?” Ariel frowned slightly. This woman sounded as if she’d been expecting her. But how?

  “I’m Miss Josephine, the resident old lady. You are here about the caretaker position, aren’t you?”

  “Um, well,” Ariel hesitated. “Actually I…well, yes, ma’am, I guess I am.”

  If there were a job available, she’d take it. Then, after she’d gained the old lady’s trust, she’d ask about the photograph. Maybe she was the young woman in the picture. Could Miss Josephine be her grandmother?

  With curious eyes, Ariel studied the woman and met equally inquisitive eyes as they examined her. Maybe they were related, but she wouldn’t be sure unless she hauled the picture out and asked.

  But how would she do that? If she blurted out the question, Miss Josephine would laugh at the absurdity of it, be shocked into a heart attack, or throw her out for being crazy. None of which would help her find information about her family.

  “Yes, I think so, too, Major,” Miss Josephine’s murmured words broke through Ariel’s argument with herself. “I know you’ve been patient for a long time.”

  Ariel studied the older woman. She stared off into space, her head cocked to the left as if someone was whispering in her ear. “Yes, she could be. Now go away before you scare her off.”

  Blinking, Ariel didn’t interrupt. It might not be wise. She’d called her invisible person Major. Was that his name or his title? Was someone else here? Glancing around, she hoped to see a pampered cat or small dog peeking around a corner. But there was no one else, man or animal, in sight.

  Whirling, Miss Josephine crossed the foyer. “Come along, dear.”

  Ariel followed her into the dining room. Miss Josephine settled in the chair closest to the door and waved her toward the other at the far end of a table that would easily seat a dozen people. Sliding into the massive oak chair at the foot, or was it the head, of the table, she folded her hands in her lap. That way her fidgeting fingers wouldn’t give away her anxiety. She wanted this job. Even though she hadn’t known about the position until now, she was determined to make it hers. In the last five minutes, she’d fallen deeply in love with the house.

  The prickling at the back of her neck returned, along with a chill. Glancing down, she noticed goosebumps appearing on her forearms. Something was wrong in this house. Seriously wrong. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the air was still, as if in preparation. Waiting for her? Or would anyone do as caretaker? Or was the fantasy of such an old house causing her to daydream problems and intrigue where there was really just an old lady looking for a companion?

  “I’m sure you’re wondering about your duties and the rather unique requirements Jeffrey told you about.”

  Jerking, Ariel felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She’d been so lost in her thoughts, she had obviously missed something important.

  “Um, actually he didn’t tell me much,” Ariel hedged. Jeffrey hadn’t told her anything. He didn’t even know she was there.

  She met Miss Josephine’s gaze squarely. She’d been to more than a few job interviews in the past couple of months, every job from waitress to nanny to secretary, but no one ever studied her as closely as this woman did now. It was as if she was trying to see beyond her carefully bland expression to read her soul. What secrets was she looking for?

  “We’re looking for a caretaker to deal with things that occasionally crop up. I don’t have a head for such things and the Major isn’t in a positi
on to step in and take over. Room and board and your uniform will be provided as well as…”

  Ariel’s attention drifted off. Warmth appeared at her left elbow as if someone had moved to stand beside her, blocking the air currents in the room. The manly-man cowboy scent returned as well. A flutter began in her stomach in response to the stimuli. Imagined or not, it was one sexy scent. If only she could find a man as masculine as that aroma. She’d snatch him up without further thought. John had always smelled of hamburger grease, beer, and sour body odor.

  Turning her head an inch to the left, she tried to peek out the corner of her eye. She was afraid to turn her head fully. Who knew what she’d find if she did. She didn’t want to offend or scare off anyone who was too shy to make an appearance.

  Shifting another fraction of an inch, she saw only an empty fireplace and six chairs lined up side by side. On the opposite side of the room stood a huge sideboard and four other chairs.

  No one was standing next to her. Only she and Miss Josephine were in the room. Yet the feeling they weren’t alone persisted.

  “Many years ago, there was a murder in this house. Most folks won’t come near the place. They say it's haunted. But as you can see, I live here alone,” Miss Josephine gestured vaguely. “I’m looking for someone to be my companion as well as caretaker to deal with things the world brings to our door. We’ve been looking for someone of a rather particular nature with a kind disposition, yet sensitive to the world around her. Such a person will try to set things to rights until the proper owners can resume control.”

  Set things to right? Proper owners? Was Miss Josephine serious or was Alzheimer’s setting in and this was the rambling of a senile old woman? She’d keep an eye on things, for now, to make certain the old woman didn’t get violent or dangerous.

  “Have you experienced anything unusual since you’ve been here?” Miss Josephine asked bluntly.

  Unusual? Did she mean the strange vision and rage on the front porch? Or maybe the invisible eyes watching her? Or the unusual scent of sexy male she could smell even now?

  All at once her eyes filled with tears. Her heart felt as if it would burst with sorrow. She didn’t understand why, only that she had to land this job. There were secrets here beyond just finding a clue to her family. She felt a little like Nancy Drew stumbling onto a mystery that pulled her in before she really understood why.

  Straightening, Ariel sniffed back unexpected tears. “Yes, ma’am, I have, but I thought this beautiful house only had me daydreaming more than usual. But I’d never smelled a daydream before.”

  The words she spoke shocked her. She should never have admitted to having daydreams! No one hired a woman who admitted to having a fanciful nature. Employers wanted practical, down to Earth people who didn’t sometimes confuse reality with the way she wanted life to be.

  Pushing half out of her chair, she apologized. “I’m sorry, Miss Josephine. I’ll go now. If you could point me in the direction of a cheap motel?”

  “Why? Don’t you want the job?”

  “Oh, yes, but I thought…”

  “My dear, you are the only person for this position. As such, I expect you to run this household with the decorum Miss Anna would if she were here. That includes dealing with the staff, bills, and any other difficulties that may arise.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ariel responded as she settled back into her seat.

  She wanted to jump up and dance and laugh and thank the stars. She had a job! She had a place to live! With luck, over the next few weeks, she’d be able to question Miss Josephine about her family. They might even be related.

  Miss Josephine rose with the grace and elegance of a queen. She looked past Ariel’s chair, smiled and lowered her chin once. Then she turned and left the room without another word.

  Before Ariel could rise and follow, or question her actions, a hand with smooth skin the color of dark chocolate slid a silver tray in front of her. It contained a delicate china cup and saucer full of tea and a plate holding three large cookies. A wedge of lemon, a small bowl of sugar, a tiny silver cream pitcher and a teaspoon completed the tray.

  Miss Josephine forgotten, Ariel turned to see the owner of the hand. She only caught a glimpse of a young girl before she disappeared through the swinging door behind her chair. The door closed behind her, not swinging the first time as if someone held it shut so the room beyond would not be revealed.

  With a sigh, Ariel straightened and studied her snack. The cookies were so fresh they were still steaming. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten all day. Sniffing, she sighed at the spicy scent of fresh baked cookies.

  Miss Josephine was gone and with her the chance to ask about the extent of her duties, who made up the staff she was responsible for dealing with, and exactly who were Miss Anna and the Major.

  Studying her surroundings, she was pleased that this room seemed to be as well maintained as the foyer. The paint was fresh, there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen and the antiques were museum quality. Too bad that the attention to detail seen here hadn’t extended to the exterior of the house. If it had, this place would be a showcase. But if Miss Josephine were able to deal with things, she wouldn’t have a job now.

  The room was cold, sterile. It needed a chair back railing and some pictures to break up the long, plain, ice white walls.

  Picking up the top cookie, Ariel nibbled at the molasses and cinnamon confection. The tea was cooler than she was used to, spiced with mint and something else, a flavor she couldn’t name. She would have to find out the recipe for the cookies. They were better than anything she’d ever tasted before, even Rebecca’s special Christmas gingersnaps.

  She finished her snack quickly, not wanting Miss Josephine to think she was looking for a free ride. Rising, she returned to the main hallway, intending to search for her employer. She reached the arched doorway in time to catch sight of a child scurrying toward the stairs.

  The girl was clothed as strangely as Miss Josephine was. She wore a loosely fitting dress of dried wheat colored cotton that fell to just above her ankles. A cloth of bright green covered her hair. On bare feet, she raced up the stairs and out of sight.

  Oh to be barefoot, Ariel thought as she glanced down at her plastic sneakers. The girl’s outfit might appear strange, but the loose dress and bare feet had to be more suitable to the hot summer weather than her khaki slacks and T-shirt. All at once she realized she’d interviewed for her new job in wrinkled pants and a peach colored shirt with a mustard smear on the chest. Why had Miss Josephine hired her? She had to look a fright!

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to fight down a wide yawn, but it wouldn’t be squelched. The day that had begun before dawn had caught up with her.

  Crossing the hall, Ariel paused in the doorway to the living room. Miss Josephine was sitting in a chair staring straight ahead, as if dozing with her eyes open. Ariel didn’t move, afraid of disturbing the old woman.

  Two minutes passed before Miss Josephine blinked then turned to look straight at her. Her gaze was sharp, penetrating, a pale blue laser that matched her dress. “I must warn you, child, the Major thinks you're too young for the responsibility of maintaining this household. But then, he always was an old fashioned male, even for his time,” Miss Josephine almost giggled as Ariel visually swept the room.

  The woman was alone. There was no one else in sight. But she could feel someone else here. A ghost, maybe? Or just her vivid imagination again?

  “Some things in this house may seem extraordinary to you. They may even cause you to question your sanity, but be assured things will soon be as they should.” The words were spoken calmly, pleasantly, not a dire warning, but an assurance.

  Ariel didn’t know what to say, so she smiled and nodded.

  “Come now, my dear. It’s time to retire. Etta has prepared a room for you.” Miss Josephine was up and on the move again.

  Ariel followed her, watching her walk. She didn’t move like most people. She ap
peared to glide. Or maybe float. There were no harsh footsteps or jolts to her body. Such smooth movements that her shoes didn’t even peek out from underneath the hem of her dress.

  Ariel tried to mimic the woman’s movements as they ascended the wide staircase to the floor above. It was a trick. She carefully slid her feet over the carpets, placing them carefully. It worked for about three steps before she almost tripped over a crease in the carpet.

  Once on the second floor, her employer gave her a verbal tour. “This was Mr. Bradley’s room and that was his wife’s. When she died, Mr. Bradley closed the door to her room and never entered the room again. It was hard for him to go on without her, but he had Anna and…” Miss Josephine broke off suddenly. She waved at the three doors that were evenly spaced across the back of the house. “Their sitting room was in the center.”

  In her mind’s eye, Ariel could picture each room. Mr. Bradley’s would have dark, heavy furniture and wood paneling. His wife’s would be decorated with white walls, pastel colors and lace with lots of frills and ruffles. Each room had a door that opened into a common sitting room. This would be where they shared their morning coffee or an evening brandy. It would be a comfortable room with chairs and tables and possibly even a small couch in the corner.

  “This is my room. In the past it was a guest room.” Miss Josephine waved as they passed another door. “This is your room. It was originally Miss Anna’s room.”

  This was the only door on the second floor that stood open, awaiting her arrival. She stepped past Miss Josephine into the room. The elderly lady remained in the hall just outside the door.

  There was a closed door next to the bed, as well as a huge wardrobe that stood in one corner. It was so large; it had to have been built in the room. It would never have fit through the doors.

  “That door opens into my room. It’s locked for our mutual privacy.” Miss Josephine blushed as she stammered an explanation.