by Terry Spear
“Is everyone all right? Brett?”
“Yeah, we’re great.” Laurel led CJ into the dining room.
CJ grinned at his brother. “You look great in the MacTire plaid. I’ve got to run back out, but I wanted to leave off some clothes for you and grab a bite to eat.”
“Thanks, CJ.” Brett finished the last forkful of his baked potato. “Be right back.” He grabbed the bag of clothes from CJ and headed for the downstairs guest bathroom.
Ellie was almost disappointed that Brett was going to be wearing his own clothes. He looked cute in her plaid.
When Brett returned, CJ asked, “So what happened?”
“I got sideswiped by a tank. You know, one of those vintage Plymouths that’s built to last. Not like the flimsy cars we own today.”
“Color?”
“Dark steel-gray. Reminded me of a gangster car of the thirties.”
“Oversized white sidewalls?” CJ asked, taking notes.
“Couldn’t see them for the snow.”
“Approximate year?”
“Well, when I did the article on the vintage car show last year, I saw some that looked similar and were built anywhere from about 1932 to 1939.”
“Do you remember one that looked like that—same color—at the show?”
“Maybe. I’d have to look at the photos and my notes. I wrote down who owned them and why they bought those particular models, though with being wolves and living so long, most were the original owners.”
“Maybe you can pick it out of a lineup of photos then. No clue on the license plate?”
“No. It blended in with the snow. And it was headed out of town. Might not have been one of ours. Plus, humans were at the car show too.”
“Okay, well, you check out the photos, see if any look similar, even if they’re a different color, and I’ll run the owners down.”
Ellie was glad Brett had a deputy sheriff for a brother.
* * *
Brett didn’t think he’d done anything to make Laurel feel he had any intention of hurting Ellie, so he wasn’t sure why she was so concerned. Maybe Laurel felt Ellie was being a little bold with him? But he loved it. It seemed so out of character for her, which made him feel that she really cared for him. That’s what was important, because he sure the hell cared for her.
“Did you want me to drop you off at home before I run out again?” CJ asked when Brett returned to the dining room.
“Ellie and I have piano lessons once she’s ready to go over to the inn. Unless you need me to help you.”
“No, go have your lessons. I know how much you always wanted to do that when you were younger.”
“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Brett asked.
“No. I don’t have any more rescues to make. I’m just patrolling in case someone is stranded and doesn’t have a way to contact us. Like you, unable to call us on your cell phone.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. If you need me, just come by the inn and pick me up.”
“Need a ride home?”
“I’ll run home as a wolf. That way you don’t have to drop by here if you don’t need to.”
“CJ needs to drop by here later,” Laurel said. “He has to take me home, but I’m staying until he’s done tonight.”
“Okay, well, we’ll see about the time then,” Brett said to Ellie. “Are you ready?”
“I sure am.”
He wasn’t sure if she wanted to practice, or she just wanted to get away from her sister’s meddling. In any case, he was glad to be alone with Ellie for a while.
Chapter 8
Ellie so hoped she could coax Brett’s great-aunt to play the piano while he was there to see if he could see the ghost too.
“Is she here?” Brett asked.
“Nope. At least not that I can see.”
“Okay.” He pulled out a sheet of piano music of “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” “I noticed this was marked as beginning sheet music, so I thought we could try it. And we can pull up the practice lessons on the Internet too. Did you want to go first?”
“No, go ahead. I’ll watch you play, then I’ll try.” Though she was going to have a hard time watching him while keeping an eye out for his great-aunt.
But no ghosts showed up that she could see.
He smiled up at her, and she told him how beautifully he’d performed.
When she sat down at the piano, she practiced like his great-aunt had taught her, and she felt good doing it. Even though Matilda didn’t make a physical appearance, Ellie felt like the elderly woman was there, encouraging her. For the first time ever, Ellie thought she could do this.
She played the simple piece Matilda had showed her before, and afterward she played the sheet music Brett was using.
“Bravo! You’re doing great.” Brett pulled her from the seat. “Isn’t it fun?”
“Yeah, I really like this.”
“Well, one of these days, maybe a few months from now, we could perform really complicated duets.”
She laughed. “Maybe years.”
“Not the way you’re playing.” Brett pulled her close. “About what Laurel said—”
“Don’t think anything about it. She was being her usual big-sister self who needs to let me live my life.”
“I get the impression this goes deeper. That you’ve had a prior bad experience that upset you.”
She really didn’t want to tell Brett how foolish she’d been. “Let’s go sit in the common room.” They sat on one of the comfortable love seats in there. “I didn’t want to talk about this. It’s not that important to our relationship.”
“I think Laurel seems to believe it is.”
“All right. It really isn’t, but I was dating a wolf a couple of years ago. We were living in Florida at the time. I…thought he was the one. It turned out he didn’t like the notion that I could see ghosts and…well, speak with them sometimes. I was really broken up when he left me, though I realized how fortunate I was that it had ended the way it did. Laurel felt bad she hadn’t intervened before I totally lost my heart to him.”
Brett frowned. “Were you mated?”
“No, but it was leading up to that—until I told him about myself. First, he just laughed at me, like I was telling a joke. Then he got mad and said ghosts didn’t exist. How could I be such a fool? Anyway, Laurel blamed herself for my folly, but, of course, it wasn’t her fault at all. I blamed myself for allowing him to change the subject every time I tried to tell him about it earlier on.
“When you and I started dating, I knew I had to speak to you about my ability, but I couldn’t right away. I suspected you knew something about it from CJ, but I had to explain to you myself. It’s not enough that you know, but that you believe that what I can do is real. Just as your job is real, and my working at the inn is real. I can’t come home to tell you your great-aunt spoke to me, and you either don’t believe and pretend you do, or you dismiss me, thinking the same as the man who left me. That I’m foolish for believing anything like that.”
“I don’t think you’re foolish at all, Ellie. I think that you and your sisters are more sensitive to seeing things that the rest of us can’t.”
“Does that mean you believe me when I say your great-aunt was here?”
“Of course I do. And I would never treat you like that guy did. It does bother me that Matilda hasn’t moved on. I just never considered that she would be hanging around since I’m unable to see ghosts or sense them in any other way. I’m sure when Laurel told CJ about it, he was in shock as much as I was.”
“That’s what I told her. Anyway, the music I was playing, that’s what she showed me to play.”
“So she still loves to teach piano lessons. Maybe she’ll teach me.” He sighed. He glanced at the clock and realized they’d been lost in conversation and it was nearly o
ne in the morning. “It’s getting late, and I need to run on home and let you get your sleep.”
“Will you come over early tomorrow night? We could make mummy dogs or something for dinner, and then we’ll hand out treats.”
“Sure thing.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”
“No. The roads are too bad. My paws do better, considering the icy conditions.”
They locked up the inn and headed back to the house. Meghan had retired to bed. Laurel had already left with CJ, and she figured his brother hadn’t wanted to interrupt Ellie and Brett’s “date.”
“If you don’t have your car tomorrow, I can come and get you,” Ellie said. “Or CJ can bring you over. He said he was going to help with the treats too.”
“Either way.” Brett gave her a hug and kiss. Then he went into the bathroom to strip and shift.
Ellie took his clothes and folded them up. “Night, Brett. See you tomorrow.”
He woofed and headed out the wolf door. As she was climbing the stairs, Meghan called out, “How’d lessons go?”
“Great.”
“Any ghostly appearances?”
“No, but I told Brett anyway.”
Meghan’s bedroom door opened, and she frowned at Ellie. “You told him you can send ghosts away?”
“No. That I can see and talk with them. If he can accept that, the rest is all the same.”
“He accepted what you can do?”
“Yes. So, no worries.”
Meghan smiled. “Good.”
“Did you tell Peter?”
“No.”
“Meghan…”
“When the time is right. Going to bed. Night.”
Ellie sighed, went into her bedroom, and closed the door. She supposed Meghan wasn’t that serious about Peter, or she would have told him about herself already. Not once had Ellie heard he believed in ghosts, so that wasn’t good. Tomorrow, she would tell Laurel the good news, so she wouldn’t feel she had to protect Ellie from Brett any more.
Meghan called out from her bedroom, “She’s playing the piano again!”
Ellie opened her window and listened to the haunting sound. “Beautiful,” she said, her breath frosty in the night air. “Why didn’t you perform when Brett was there?” She closed the window and got ready for bed, looking forward to trick-or-treaters if the roads were clear enough and the kids and adults could brave the snow.
Maybe Matilda would even play something nice and spooky for Halloween, and then Brett would know for certain that ghosts existed.
Ellie closed her eyes, ready for Brett to come to her in her dreams, when she remembered the Lonely Hearts column was coming out first thing in the morning. Maybe nobody would read it. Even if no one but a couple of bachelor wolves saw it and she went out with them, the word was sure to get out. She folded her arms across her chest, frowned, and closed her eyes.
Brett had suggested she do this, so it was all on him.
Chapter 9
The next morning, while Brett was sitting at his desk in the newspaper office, he looked through all the vintage car photos he’d taken at the car show last summer and found three cars that looked somewhat similar to the one that had hit his vehicle on the road. Then again, the snow had been blowing so hard that he could be mistaken. None of them appeared to match the dark steel-gray color. One was pale silver, another was glossy black, and the last one was light blue. Though like CJ had said, between now and last year, the owner could have repainted the car.
Brett called CJ and told him the names of the three car owners. They were all members of the pack, so he really didn’t think that any of them would have been so careless or callous. Unless the driver had been inebriated.
“I’ll check them out, but like you, I doubt any of our people would have done that. I’ll let you know what I learn.”
“Thanks, CJ.”
He had shared Ellie’s ghost story anonymously in the newspaper as she had requested and had been fielding calls on that all day. “Excellent story!” “Was it true?” “Which wolf had the experience?” A number of wolves had shared their own stories, maybe to be included in the paper next Halloween.
Anxious to exorcise the ghosts at the inn, Brett began searching the Internet to see how he could do that himself instead of involving the sisters’ cousins.
He found an article on performing a cleansing for ghosts. Simple. Just bundle some sage together and burn it, scenting the air throughout the inn with it. But he couldn’t do that surreptitiously.
He found sage-and-citrus candles, for adding fragrance to a room, and figured that would work. It was supposed to be relaxing. He thought of giving them to the sisters to use, but what if they accepted the candles and then didn’t burn them?
Then Brett had another thought and looked up sage in recipes. There was a recipe for a spice ball of sage, rosemary, thyme, tarragon, and marjoram, which would be added to soup, sauce, or stew. Or he could make sage sausage, or coat chicken with orange-sage marinade and bake it. Or he could make sage dip. The soup or stew would bubble away and add the scent of sage, along with the other herbs, to the air. Soup or stew? He liked chunks of beef, potatoes, and celery. So that’s what he’d make. He hoped it turned out great.
Glad to have come up with a plan that cost under a hundred dollars instead of paying Stanton’s exorbitant fee of five thousand, Brett was eager to help his great-aunt and the sisters find peace.
* * *
When Ellie went to the grocery store, she saw little kids dressed up as everything from fairy princesses to Batman and other comic heroes. She planned to drop by the craft store to pick up materials to make her first macramé project from the book Brett had picked out. A plant holder? A bracelet? A wall hanging? There were lots of good choices.
“Hey,” Sarandon said, joining her at the checkout counter, his dark-brown eyes even darker now. He didn’t look like he planned to purchase anything, but just wanted to speak to her—and from the scowl on his face, he didn’t look happy. “I saw your letter in the Lonely Hearts column in the paper.” He pulled the torn-out column from his pocket. “‘Woman interested in dating guys who love wolves, love to run, believe in ghosts, and love to howl at the moon’?”
Her jaw dropped. She’d almost forgotten about the ad because of all the excitement over Halloween. Mindy, the clerk, smiled at her. “You go, girl. Tell me if it works.”
Ellie smiled back at her. She didn’t say anything to Sarandon as she finished her transaction, but before she could carry her groceries out to the car, he grabbed the bags. He didn’t look the least bit like a wolf who had seen her letter and was interested in dating her. He looked annoyed with her. Not that she was interested in dating him either. It was one thing to date other wolves, but not one of Brett’s brothers.
“What?” she asked, unlocking the hatchback.
“What does Brett think about you dating other guys?”
“He’s the one who suggested it!” She waited for Sarandon to deposit her bags in the car, but he was staring at her like he couldn’t believe it. “Ask him!”
Sarandon didn’t budge. She began to take one of the sacks out of his hand, which seemed to bring him back to the here and now, and he placed them in the trunk. “Don’t date anyone until I have a talk with Brett about this. He thinks the world of you, Ellie.”
“Go talk to him then, but I’m not changing my mind. This was all Brett’s idea, not mine.” She didn’t feel she owed Sarandon an explanation of why Brett had come up with the idea either.
His stern gaze still on her, Sarandon immediately whipped out his phone and called Brett while she closed her hatchback. She was certain Brett wouldn’t like to hear that she had posted the item in the Silver Town Gazette. She was surprised he hadn’t called about it before now. He must not have read it.
“Hey, Brett
. Sarandon, here. Did you tell Ellie to date other wolves?”
Sarandon was eyeing Ellie as she slid into her driver’s seat. If she was going to date other people, she’d choose who.
“Ah hell, Brother. Well, you might want to check out the Lonely Hearts column this morning.”
Ellie smiled, closed her door, and waved good-bye to Sarandon before she took off.
Sarandon pocketed his phone, and hers instantly rang. Darien. She sighed and answered his call. He was the pack leader and Brett’s cousin, after all. Maybe it wasn’t about the letter, but she suspected it was.
“Hey, Darien.”
Beeping on the car panel alerted her that she had another incoming call to pick up. She smiled when she saw it was one of the two brothers who worked ski patrol.
“I’m calling as your friend and Brett’s cousin to ask you not to date other wolves in the pack,” Darien said. “Lelandi’s in a session with a patient, but when she’s through, she wants to talk with you too.”
Ellie wasn’t talking to Lelandi about this. She didn’t need counseling. “I’ve got another call coming in.” She hung up on Darien, knowing he wouldn’t be happy about it, but tough. Yeah, he and Lelandi were in charge of the pack, but courting a wolf was her business, not pack business. She guessed her sisters hadn’t read the paper yet, or she would be fielding calls from them too.
She answered the next call, this one from her first gentleman suitor. Everyone called Cantrell and his brother, Robert, Viking gods. They were both blond haired, both handsome, and both had a great sense of humor.
Before she could say anything, someone else was trying to call her. Brett. She ignored his call because she was busy with Cantrell. She would talk to Brett afterward.
“Hey, Ellie, I hear you’re looking for some action. I’d take you out in a heartbeat, but I wanted to make sure you’re really available. I don’t want all the Silver wolves to take action against me if I pursue you,” Cantrell said.
“Hey,” Robert said in the background. “I’m asking first though, as long as it’s okay with the pack.”