Silly thing to say. That much is already obvious. “I mean—I guess what I’m asking is, if anyone else entered this room, could they see you as well?”
“If I wished it,” her ghost said.
“Then, if you wished it, could I still see and hear you without anyone else in the room knowing it?”
“Yes. You needn’t worry about your visitors. I’ll make sure they don’t see or hear me if that’s your desire,” he said.
“Just who are you? Please. I would like to know.” The question encompassed everything at once. Yet, Jo would find satisfaction in knowing his name—thinking of him as “her ghost,” unnerved her.
“My name is Mathias McGregor. I am the firstborn son of Adam and Tamar Davies McGregor,” he said. “Late of Pennsylvania.”
“And, this was your house? You were born here?” Jo had so many questions she didn’t know in what order to ask them.
“This is my house, yes, meaning my family built the place in my youth. However, this isn’t the place of my birth,” Mathias replied. “That event took place about one mile north of this location, in a home no longer standing.”
“When? When were you born?”
“According to my mother, I entered this world on the fifth day of a very cold December in the year 1747.” Then as if anticipating her next question, he added, “And my mortal existence unexpectedly ended the sixteenth day of June in the year 1778.”
“Then you did live during the time of the Revolutionary War. You could easily fit into the time period of this painting then,” she said as she pointed first to him and then at the figure of George Washington.
“Yes, I suppose I could have.” Mathias nodded as his gaze traveled to the painting. He tilted his head to the side as he studied its subject. “However, I didn’t accompany General Washington’s army to their encampment at Valley Forge. My assignments took me elsewhere.”
Her mouth dropped and as she gasped, she placed a hand over her heart. “You knew George Washington?”
“I didn’t know him intimately, of course,” he said, meeting her gaze. “But I did have the honor of speaking to him on a few occasions when our paths crossed during the war. He’s a great man, an admirable man, and we were honored to have served under his leadership.”
“Did you serve with one of the Pennsylvania battalions, then?” asked Jo.
“In the early days of the war, I served very briefly with the First Battalion militia. Soon thereafter, Colonel Daniel Morgan recruited me, along with some of my friends, to serve with his army of Rangers. Then toward the end of our lives, Colonel Morgan assigned us to work with Major John Clark,” Mathias replied.
“You served as a Ranger? I didn’t know the Rangers even existed during the Revolutionary War.” She wondered if the Rangers from his era bore any resemblance to the elite Rangers of today. Perhaps she should do some research. Mathias McGregor, late of Pennsylvania, shrugged in response.
“Is that how you—how you died? Fighting as a Ranger during the War?” she ventured.
Mathias returned a single nod. “Yes. Unfortunately, many good and noble men on both sides of the war lost their lives for what they passionately believed. However, those of us who considered ourselves patriots regarded dying as a necessary evil if men and this country were ever to gain independence and freedom from oppression and tyranny.”
The words said with quiet dignity and respect compelled a subject change. They could discuss the war and his part in it, a little later perhaps.
“So, Mathias McGregor, firstborn son of Adam and Tamar Davies McGregor, how many siblings did you take pleasure in bullying around?” She had no idea why such an absurd question popped into her head. Perhaps having a ghost made her a little batty after all.
Mathias chuckled as he leaned forward with his hands still clasped together. “What makes you think I bullied any of my siblings, Miss Michaelsson?”
“Oh, just call it woman’s intuition,” Jo replied as memories of her brother’s merciless teasing, stormed her mind.
Mathias answered each question she asked him. She learned he was of Scottish descent and second-generation born American. He told her he had ten brothers and sisters, none of which he bullied—much. Finally, she learned his father enjoyed success as a merchant, which of course, explained the existence of this beautiful home.
In an effort to avoid the subject of war and death, she sat across from a ghost and casually questioned him about his mortal life and ancestry. She may just as well be conducting some sort of an interview for an historic documentary. At that very moment, she pictured herself sitting primly on an elegant sofa, with notepad and pen in hand. She would adjust her black-framed glasses and say, “So, can you supply me with documentation for the exact dates and locations to each of these events, Mr. McGregor, and would this be a primary or secondary source, sir?”
The whole scenario struck her as funny and it made her laugh. As Mathias assumed a puzzled expression, she laughed all the harder. “I’m sorry.” Jo put a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles. “It’s not you or your family or anything you said, really. It’s just that all of a sudden this whole thing seemed so funny. I mean I’m sitting here talking to a ghost about his ancestry, of all things. I’m pretty sure this topic would never be broached with another soul in my same situation.”
Mathias smiled broadly, catching her humor. “No?”
She shook her head while seizing control of her mirth. “Nope. Definitely not.”
“What then, do you suppose they would choose for a topic of conversation? Curiously, I have never stopped to consider such a thing before,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know, something deeply profound and philosophical would be my guess.” Jo nibbled at a nail, dropped her hand, and shrugged. “They might ask you about the death experience itself, what happens as you leave your body, and the changes you encountered. Perhaps they might ask about life after death—how it differs from mortality. There are many people who try to prove life does go on, you know. Let’s see, I think I remember once on a TV show that featured a supposed haunting—
“This guy ran around from room to room with his tape recorder, asking the ghost why he haunted the place. He asked if the spirit needed help from the living to accomplish a specific task so the entity could cross over to his proper plane. He wanted to make an EVP I think they called it—an electronic voice, something or other. Anyway, the device is supposed to capture the ghost’s vocal response to the questions.”
“Did he receive an answer?” asked Mathias.
Jo shook her head, crossed a leg over her knee, and began swinging her foot in little circles. “Not that I’m aware of. Apparently ghosts don’t like to perform on cue.” Horrified over what she just said, Jo’s hand flew to her mouth as her wandering foot stopped mid-circle. Mathias simply chuckled in returned. Thankfully, he didn’t take offense.
“No, I suppose we don’t,” he said. “I know we never once considered complying with the wishes of our living guests. To do so seemed a bit beneath our dignity, if you understand my meaning. Especially when they wanted us to prove to their visitors, we existed by moving an object or closing a door. We found such a request demeaning.”
Mathias shook his head in disgust and looked away briefly before he met her eyes once again. Did he notice her discomfort? For he leaned closer still, and it looked as if he wanted to take hold of her hands. She found herself inching them away.
“What is it?” he asked.
She gave him a side-ways glance. “We?”
“Oh. You needn’t fear any of them either. Although they are patiently awaiting your consent, the lads would like to make your acquaintance now. If you think you’re ready, that is.”
“The lads?” she repeated as her fingers traveled toward her throat. More ghosts lived inside this house? Mathias somehow put her at ease. As absurd as it sounded, he made her feel as if they’d known each their entire lives and simply picked up where they left off. Once the s
hock of meeting a real ghost rescinded, she discovered she enjoyed his company and conversation. But could she deal with—
“Four of the best men who ever lived on this earth, take my word for it,” he said, steadily meeting her gaze. “Together and for a specific purpose, the five of us formed a special unit. These men fell alongside me during our last battle. I believe this is the reason we’re all together now. Do you think you’re up to meeting them?”
Something tugged at Jo’s heart when he mentioned the boys in connection with his final battle. The memory of it seemed a sacred thing. She found herself wanting to meet the men who served and died with Mathias McGregor. However, the words didn’t want to hurdle the lump in her throat, so she merely nodded in consent. Then as Mathias rose from his chair, she followed suit. She didn’t quite know what she was supposed to do—
“Samuel,” Mathias called over his shoulder, though all the while he retained possession of her gaze.
Straight through the bookshelf emerged one of the men from Jo’s dream. He wore the same type of Daniel-Boone-backwoods-mountain-man clothing Mathias wore, his light brown hair also tied back in a queue. His hazel eyes danced with mischief and at once, he made her feel comfortable in his presence. He bowed low at the waist in a grandiose sort of way and smiled broadly.
“My very dear lady, I’m so very happy to finally make your acquaintance,” he said. He made a play as if to kiss her hand, making several attempts in the process, yet his own hand slipped deliberately through hers. She smiled in response to his antics.
“This buffoon is Samuel Fraser, my greatest friend from clout to breeches,” Mathias stated as the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “I think I know more about the man than what his own mother could divulge. So perhaps he ought to take that in consideration before playing the fool?”
“Ah, Mathias—” Samuel chuckled wickedly as he turned his gaze toward him. “Perhaps you might consider the tales that I, in turn, could reveal about you.”
Their easy banter, honed over a lifetime and beyond made Jo laugh. She wondered for a brief moment about those tales to which they referred before she said, “Hello, Samuel, it’s nice to meet you too.”
“William,” Mathias called out the name with all haste. To advance past Sam’s threat, perhaps?
The ghostly form of William made his way through the door and halted a few paces in front of her. He stood about as tall as Sam did, possessed golden-red hair and gentle green eyes. She could also see a smattering of light freckles across his nose. He revealed a single dimple on one side of his cheek when he smiled.
The ghost dipped his head in greeting and said, “Hello, Jolena, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said, returning his nod.
“Jolena, this is William Ferguson, and Alexander”—Mathias paused and turned his head toward the wall just as the third ghost entered the room—“this is Alexander Buchanan. I’ve known these men almost as long I’ve known Sam, and I can attest to their noble character.”
“Hello, Alexander.” Jo smiled at the ghost who gave her a friendly wink in return. He had brown wavy hair, a jaw-length mustache, and sky blue eyes.
“Then, to finish up our small group, I’d like to introduce you to Jedediah,” said Mathias. Jedediah made his sudden appearance standing beside Sam, and instantly his boyish grin stole her heart.
“This lad is Jedediah Gatlin and don’t let the innocent, youthful appearance deceive you in any way. He’s as ornery and obstinate as any old codger I’ve ever met. We think it’s the Irish in him,” Mathias said, giving her a wink.
A small knot formed in her throat as she gazed at Jedediah. The young blue-eyed blond looked about eighteen, maybe nineteen years of age at best, and it broke her heart to realize he died in battle at such a young and tender age. Nevertheless, he wore a cheerful expression as he stepped toward her and grinned.
“Miss Jolena, I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said. “And I want to thank you for playing your fiddle today. The sound of it did me wonders.”
“Hello, Jedediah, and you’re welcome. However, I guess I should let you all know that you’ll have to bear with me on that. You see, I play with the orchestra for a living and I need to put in a lot of time practicing—” The ghosts didn’t allow her to finish her sentence. Protests flew around the room. She laughed as she threw her hands in the air to halt the outcry. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’m glad you enjoy listening to me play because you’re going to hear a lot of it.”
Mathias placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and said, “You won’t hear a single complaint from any one of us, I guarantee it.”
“Hey, Miss Jolena,” Jedediah cut in. “Do you know how to play ‘Sally in Our Alley’? It’s my favorite song.”
“I’m not familiar with that title, but let me see what I can find,” she replied.
“Well, while you’re looking, see about ‘The Little Turtle Dove,’ my particular favorite,” Sam added with a firm nod of his head.
As the requests continued, Jo absorbed the sight of her companions. They were every bit the fine-looking men she saw in her dream. And, she could bring to mind several females who would envy her position, despite the fact these men were dead.
She spent the next few hours getting acquainted with each of them, and it didn’t take them any time at all to find a place in her heart. They all made her laugh, but most especially Sam. He possessed a quick wit, which hadn’t diminished with time, or perhaps, simply increased because of it. William and Alexander seemed the pranksters. They reminded her so much of her brother, but double the trouble. And Jedediah just wanted to please her. Her maternal instincts swelled, and compelled her to give affection and comfort whether he asked for or needed it.
Finally, she settled her eyes on Mathias. A sigh escaped as she met his questioning gaze from across the room. Something entirely different emanated from the larger than life persona of Mathias McGregor and somehow it filled her with a fervent desire to discover the cause.
Chapter 5
Despite the persistence of Dakota’s probing wet nose, Jo snuggled deeper into the warmth of her comforter. Precious little sleep found her during the night, what with all the images of Mathias and the boys dancing around inside her head. So much needed sorting, so much needed reconciling. And really, right now she just wanted to have the ten minutes her alarm clock said she could have. Did she ask too much in wanting those ten minutes?
In answer to the silent question, Dak whimpered urgently and licked at her face. With a sigh of resignation, she tossed back the coverlet and sat up. She turned off the alarm, yawned, and took just a moment to stretch before rising from the bed.
“Okay, okay. I’m up. I’m up. Just give me a minute to remember who and where I am,” she said as she donned her robe, made her way to the door, and opened it. Dakota rushed past her and bounded down the stairs.
“Good Morning, Miss Jolena, and don’t worry yourself. I’ll let the dog out for you,” Jedediah called out from somewhere downstairs. “Come on, boy, let’s get you outside. You look near to bursting.”
“Thank you, Jedediah.” From the sound of his voice, Jo guessed he called out from the family room. Ghosts must have very sensitive hearing in order for him to hear the soft rustle of her door all the way up the stairs. But why should that surprise her? As she readied for her morning shower she considered the abilities she had already witnessed. Abilities that truly astounded her. Ghosts could make themselves look like living people, speak out loud, laugh, make jokes, walk through solid objects, and more than likely, a host of other things she’d yet to see.
Jo looked down at the bath towel in her hand. Her gaze then shifted to the glass shower door in her bathroom and back to her towel again. With sudden determination, she tossed her towel on the bed and made her way down the stairs.
As expected, her ghostly friends gathered in the family room. They examined the various components of her customized sound system as if trying to underst
and the function of each. They all turned and gazed at her as she entered.
“I’m only going to make one rule,” she said coming straight to the point. “My bedroom and bathroom is strictly off limits. Everyone understand that?”
Mathias exchanged glances with each of his companions and shrugged. Then, as she turned on her heels and made her way back up the stairs, she caught sight of Sam from the corner of her eye. He waved a hand in dismissal toward her, shook his head, and tsked.
“Women,” he muttered and the comment made her laugh.
About forty-five minutes later, she returned dressed in a white tuxedo blouse and black slacks, ready for her day. Since the boys still poked about the stereo as if totally intrigued with the thing, she picked up the remote and turned it on.
“This stereo has a three hundred disk carousel, which is almost full,” she said. “That means it holds hours and hours of music. I have everything from classical to new age already loaded.” She explained the function of each button and said, “Does everyone understand how it works?”
William took the remote from her hand and showed her he could follow simple directions. Seconds later, the deep, rhythmic beat of “Smoke on the Water” boomed out of the speakers. Jo laughed at their initial reaction to the song her father used to play so often during her childhood. However, not until William and Alexander got down with the music, in what she could only describe as an eighteenth century boogie to a twentieth century song, did everyone else join in the laughter. Sam laughed so hard at the spectacle they made of themselves, Jo almost expected tears to run down his cheeks. Jed and Mathias weren’t far behind in the hilarity of the exhibition, either.
“All right, all right,” Jo sputtered as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I can’t take any more of this, so let me show you how to use the remote for the TV, the satellite box, and the Blue-ray machine. I’ve got lots of must-see movies too.”
Once she finished the lessons, Alex bowed his head and said, “Well thanks, Jolena. I believe you’ve provided us with some new entertainment.”
Spirit of the Revolution Page 5