Wild West Hauntings, page 12
“That makes you sad?”
A half-smile touched his lips. “Sad for us … but happy for him. It’s his destiny and even though he’s been fighting it every step, one day he will embrace it.”
Interest really embraced Bristol. If Kane had such a wonderful and unique gift, then what was the problem? “Why does he fight it?”
“Because his life will change as he knows it. Working on the ranch. Hanging with us. It will all change.”
Bristol gulped the rest of her water and placed the bottle next to her feet. “And he can’t do it all?”
His sad expression came at the same time that he shrugged. “Unfortunately, he can’t, baby. Being a shaman comes with certain tribal responsibilities and status. He would have to embrace his Native American heritage as his fate … and forsake the life he knows here.”
“Well, that plain sucks.”
Damon chuckled low in his throat. “Yeah, it does.”
A knock halted the conversation, and Damon and Bristol looked at the door. “It’s me Damon. Bristol. May I enter?” Kane was such a gentleman. Bristol would miss seeing him around the ranch if he did indeed embrace the shaman thing.
“Come on in, bro.” Damon and Bristol rose to meet Kane.
“So, am I going to levitate or spit up green all over the room?” Bristol asked the question, serious as a heart attack. The men both gawked at her at exactly the same moment. “What?”
Damon raised a brow, then shook his head in his usual manner of disbelief.
Kane suppressed a smile. “I sure hope not.”
“Bristol, darlin’, let’s keep your imagination in check.” Still laughing, Damon pulled her hand into his. “Always the drama queen. Correction, Broadway drama queen extraordinaire.”
Bristol made a clicking sound with her mouth. “I have this trickson inside me. I mean, I need to be prepared for anything. Don’t you guys agree?”
“Actually, it’s a trickster, and it’s not inside of you. It was only able to whisper to the baby while you were in the throws of orgasm,” Kane clarified with his Mr. All-Knowing attitude.
Okay. This was over the top embarrassing. Talking with him about her orgasm? One given to her by the trickman, trickster, whatever?
WTF?
The atmosphere in the room turned serious. Kane extended a hand toward Bristol. “When you’re ready.”
Yeah, well that is a loaded statement. How about next week? Or next month? Or never?
The reality hit her like a shot between the eyes. She had to do whatever she could to protect her unborn child. Resigned to trust Kane wholeheartedly, she slipped her hand into his.
Damon followed as Kane led her to the bed. Once she lay down, Kane planted himself behind Bristol’s head, resting his back against the headboard.
“Lift your head, please,” Kane requested.
She lifted.
He placed her head in his lap informing Damon to take his place at her feet. “Count backward from ten. Listen carefully to the cadence of my chant. Allow yourself to experience the journey.”
The journey? The entire episode seemed bizarre, but she had to try to do what she could to protect her unborn child if indeed danger surrounded her boy. “I’ll do what you ask, Kane.”
“I love you,” Damon whispered through the intense silence that had settled around them.
“Ditto.” The uneasiness tinged by dread in her voice was very hard to camouflage, but even through the fear, she closed her eyes and resigned to wholeheartedly put her trust in Kane and the man she loved more than life itself. I can do this. I can do this.
“Count.” Kane instructed a minute after a slow methodical crooning filled the room.
The voice … so beautiful. Calming. The…
Bristol awoke with a start. Once the fogginess surrounding her thoughts cleared slightly, she regained some control and surveyed the situation. Both men sat in the wing-back chairs near the fireplace smoking cigars.
Smoking cigars?
Confused by her surroundings and still groggy from the deep sleep, she wiped her dry mouth and then rubbed at her eyes in the hopes of clearing the crusty film covering them. She shook her head and then stared at the figures for a few more minutes. Was she still dreaming? Nope, the smell of cherry laced tobacco lingered.
Finally comfortable but not yet totally satisfied with her assessment of the situation, she went back to clearing the mist inside her head.
“Did it work?” She managed to squeak the words. “Did it work?” This time the words came across much clearer.
The chatting stopped. With her head tilted, she watched both men glance her way.
“Kane believes so.” Damon, looking like shit with his mussed up hair and dark circles under and shadowing his blue eyes, closed the distance between them until he stood by her side. His red and black paisley shirt was half tucked into his jeans. “How are you feeling?”
“Drugged.” All pregnancy pains aside, honestly, she felt like she’d been run over by a semi. Exhaustion and sore bones. That’s how she felt.
“That’s normal, Bristol.” Kane assured her as he rose from his chair. “The chanting is a form of a drug. It put you into a spirit sleep so that I was able to speak with your son. Ease his young mind.”
Still in thought about her sore body, she’d almost let Kane’s words slip past without a thought. Talking to the baby?
“You, you were able to speak to our child?” Tears welled in her eyes. Just the thought was unbelievable, and made the situation all the more real. It was one thing to read about others’ ability to communicate with the unborn, but to have her friend do it? Amazing.
“Yes. I was able to speak to his thoughts. To assure him that I would protect him during his journey into this world. The trickster will have to come through me to get to him.” By this time, Kane carefully took a seat next to her on the bed. “And I can guarantee that will not happen. This child has my protection.”
This time the tears spilled in droves down her cheeks. “Thanks … so much.”
“It is my pleasure, Bristol. The Dougan family is special to me. I will protect them and their loved ones at all cost.” The brown hue in his eyes softened. “And you and I have a special friendship.”
Kane’s revelation triggered an emotional shift in the room. Both men shot each a quick glance and nodded. Understanding. Respect. Love and Death.
Raw emotion.
Brotherly love crackled in the air, and the bond between them was obvious. They both gave a nod to the unspoken truth in the room. “Damon, we will need to call a family meeting tomorrow. There is a reason Mr. P is back and causing trouble. The sooner we find out why and decide a course of action to rid the land of him, the better.”
“Sure thing. I’ll make sure that everyone’s assembled in the lodge after morning chores are done.” Damon sat beside Bristol and held her hand tightly.
Kane excused himself and walked from the room leaving Damon at her side.
A long growl came from her belly. “I’m starving.”
“Sounds like our little man is too.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s almost time to get up anyway. Let’s go downstairs and wrangle up some breakfast? We can touch base with everyone during the meal.”
She agreed and took the hand he offered, hoping that by getting out of the room and starting the day, her anxiety about Mr. P would go away.
Chapter Twelve
Watching Damon, Miguel and Pedro rearrange the dining room area and push two of the larger tables together, Rachel rubbed her arms. Ever since the incident happened with the poltergeist in her room, she couldn’t seem to get warm. She’d donned tights then her jeans, a tank top, a t-shirt and a sweat shirt. She was about ready to grab her winter coat and wrap it around her as well.
Marianne came through the doorway, her arms laden with notepads and her hands clutching pens.
“Hey, sis. What’s going on?”
The blonde placed a pad and pen on the table at each seat. “We’re meeting to discuss what to do about our resident ghosts again, most specifically Mr. P..”
Rachel walked over and stood behind a chair. She clutched the top rung, noticed her white knuckles and loosened her hold. Get a grip. Don’t let everyone see how unnerved you are. “Do you think it’d be all right if I sat in on it? I know I’m not an employee or family member, but as you know, I’ve had my own encounters.”
“I don’t see why not,” Marianne replied.
“Don’t see why not what?” Dakota inquired as he strolled in with the rest of the ranch hands and Cassie. Bristol, Damon, Miguel and Pedro came out of the kitchen carrying plates of cut up fruit, cheeses, and crackers, pitchers of lemonade and ice tea and a stack of paper cups and plates.
“Rachel wants to be in the meeting, too.”
“Can’t see how that will hurt.” Kane pulled out a chair across the way from Rachel and sat. “An outsider can give fresh perspective. Please sit.” He indicated the chair she held, then swept his arm out over the table. “Everyone.”
Once they all took their seats, filled their plates and poured their drinks, Dakota got the meeting in order. “We’re here to discuss the problems Mr. P. is causing. Early this morning Bristol and Damon had an encounter with him, and Kane had to intervene. We need ideas, no matter how big or small or silly you may think they are, on how to rid our ranch of this nuisance.”
Hugh rapped the table with the knuckles of his fist. “Well, it’s obvious the salt perimeter around the graveyard didn’t work.”
Jake followed with the same hand movement. “It was working though. We were all diligent about keeping the perimeter fenced with a thick salt line. But I guess we need something more stable to trap him in.”
Multiple people rapped on the wood table. Kane, seeming to be the captain of diplomacy, directed the people with ease, making sure each person had their say before another took up the topic.
Awed, Rachel loved the organization of the discussion and how well it moved along. Kane was a great moderator. She could have used a few clones of him in some group sessions at school.
During a pause in the conversation, Cassie knocked. “What if we brought Trish back? She can lock Mr. P. back in the graveyard.”
“Then what happens if something happens again and Mr. P. escapes once more?” Kane leaned back in his chair. His gaze, in slow and methodical movement, looked at each person. “No. A psychic medium may not be strong enough to capture him. We can try though. Maybe someone else. Someone whose energy Mr. P. has not come in contact with yet.”
Voices rang in the space. Comments flew on how they didn’t know anyone else, along with questions on how they were going to find someone to assist them and fast. Hugh and Billy fumed over how the animals had been riled up lately and how pieces of tack had gone missing then showed up in odd places—the incidents causing problems on the job.
Kane held up a hand. Everyone quieted down. “First we should find out if anyone was down at the cemetery and disturbed the salt line.”
“Jake and I were,” Kent stated. “The new headstone came in, and we swapped it out with the busted one. But we were real careful about the salt and replenished it to keep it intact.”
The salt line. Oh no. Rachel’s stomach soured. A warm flush crept into her cheeks. Was I really down there? Could those not have been dreams I had?
“Even if we do find someone, who’s to say they’ll be available immediately? He or she might not be able to come and get rid of him before the wedding ceremony tomorrow evening.” Bristol gazed at her fiancé with wide, wet eyes. “Damon? What are we going to do? I can’t have some family ghost ruining our special day. I can call on some of my friends from the theater. They have special powers.”
Damon cupped her head, brought it toward him and kissed her temple. “No one and nothing’s going to spoil our wedding and party, darlin’. We’ll pass on the theater friends if you don’t mind. I think we can handle this in-house.”
“But Bristol’s right,” Cassie interjected. “Even if they could make it here, when do we want him or her to show? We have to clean up the rec room, decorate, then there’s the meeting with the minister later today, the Christmas Eve wedding and reception, Christmas…” She shrugged and shook her head as if saying there was no time, no hope. “Perhaps those theater people might do the trick. You know, they are an odd bunch. Ghosts might be right up their alley.”
Cassie’s statement caused another uproar amongst the group. Kane had trouble quieting them down.
The people around Rachel bickered. Their voices raised in concern. It’s all my fault. I’ve caused this. I should say something. The blood drained from her face. She sucked in a thin stream of air as sweat beaded above her upper lip. How would she find the courage to admit to a bunch of strangers what’d been going on with her? She took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
During a brief lull in the noise, Hugh jumped to his feet and slapped the table, stopping Rachel from even starting her confession. “So you’re telling us that we just have to put up with this crap for the next few days? That’s crazy!”
“Damon.” Bristol appeared to be on the verge of tears. “We can’t wait. There’s no way.”
Everyone started talking at once again. She had to stop the madness. Rising from the chair, she made a fist and was about to knock on the table when Kane caught her gaze. He offered a slight shake of his head and mouthed the word ‘wait.’
I thought I was allowed to sit in on this. That an outside opinion would be welcomed. Baffled, she raised a brow and tilted her head, hoping he’d give an explanation.
A second later loud crashes and thumps followed by the tinkling of breaking glass echoed from the next room. Rachel, already on her feet, ran into the recreation room, Marianne and Miguel close on her heels.
Disaster. Chaos and destruction greeted them. From the other doorway, Bristol screamed, a short burst of screeching emotion that was almost drowned out by the men’s curses. Rachel glanced over her shoulder at her sister. Marianne’s skin lost its color as had Miguel’s, whose tone grew more lait than café. Cassie stepped into the room, navigating around a puddle of glass shards, and picked up a gift that used to be under the tree. The torn wrapping paper appeared to be swiped and ripped by three claw marks.
The beautiful evergreen was on its side as were some chairs and a couch. Water from the tree stand pooled at the end of the felled tree, soaking the edge of a throw rug in front of the fire. Presents that were once under the branches, now ripped and damaged like the one in Cassie’s hands, littered various areas of the room along with broken ornaments, picture frames, and vases.
Kent pulled a gift off the top of the piano. Marianne picked one up from the office doorway. All the boxes people found had the three swipe marks.
Bristol leaned against the doorjamb, tears streaming down her cheeks. Damon rubbed his hand on her back.
“Come, everyone.” Kane righted a chair. “We need to clean this up and salvage what we can. After the clergyman leaves, we will revisit the discussion.”
“And maybe Pastor Ryan will be able to help us or know someone who can,” Damon stated, in a seeming attempt to cheer up Bristol. She offered a small smile, but it was obvious the sassy spunk in her had gone.
“Pedro and I will grab the brooms, dust pans and brushes.” Miguel turned to Marianne. “Could you grab some towels?”
“Sure.” Marianne looked to the office when the phone rang. “Let me get that and then I’ll grab them.”
Splintered pieces of the nightmare Rachel had the night before sliced through her brain and froze her in place. All the ranch employees bustled about, cleaning up the room, putting it back in order. She should have come clean earlier, should have informed someone in charge—other than her sister—that she’d been plagued by the ranch’s spirits. Rachel wanted to express herself as Bristol had a few moments before.
“Do not trouble yourself about it anymore,” Kane whispered in her ear.
Surprised, she jolted from her thoughts and jerked a step away from him. “Huh?”
“You are haunted,” he lowered his voice to a hypnotizing murmur. “There is murkiness to your aura. Clear your mind. Clear your heart. Then the shadow on your consciousness and soul will lift.”
His presence and words comforted her. “But I still feel as if all this is my fault.” She matched the cadence and level of his voice.
“What you’ve done and haven’t done is no longer a concern. In fact, your role in all this has done us a favor.”
She glanced at the man, tilted her head, wondering how he knew what she believed he was implying. Wanting to hear what else he had to say, she didn’t interrupt him.
“I know things, see things, hear things, feel things.” Seeming to read her mind, he answered her unasked question, tapping his temple, ear and the spot over his heart with the words. He kept his gaze on the others in the room as they scrambled to straighten up. “With the evil free, it places me firm on my life’s path and requires me to take the necessary steps in my journey. I thank you.” Kane placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, then strolled across the room and out the door.
Upon his last statements and touch, calm settled within her. It was as if a weight had been lifted. She concentrated on the feeling, reveled in it and stuck it in her memory bank. She didn’t believe her trip would change from strange to normal so easily and wanted a good memory to focus on when needed.
“Rachel?”
She turned and went to her sister who stood in the office doorway with a couple rolls of paper towels in her hands. “Yeah?”
“That was Nonna on the phone. She said she felt it wasn’t a good time to visit so she’s not coming. Plus the weather’s horrendous, and flights are being canceled by the minute. She might not have had a flight out anyway. Nonna sends her love.”
