Haunted

It was not a pretty picture.

She didn’t think that there was any way she would ever be able to explain her particular talents to Matt Stone. Adam would understand. He was an amazing man. He had some abilities, but his true talent was in understanding that there were people in the world with special senses. She might have gone mad, seeing and hearing what others didn’t, except for Adam. First, he had believed. In his belief, he afforded her great trust. While he worked on a scientific level, proving different levels of heat and electricity, she worked purely through the visions and feelings that came to her—whether she wanted them or not, most of the time. Adam had taught her how to channel the strange images and feelings that came to her. And when she had thought herself a misfit who could live only in fear, he had taught her that she could bring peace and relief to lost souls, and given her purpose—as well as a very decent living that kept her feeling not only sane, but tremendously useful.

In this room, the feelings and impressions of trauma rushed around like a swirl of dark storm clouds.

However, it was incredible. Not a bad place to stay. Far, far, better than the hotel. Her bag was at the foot of the bed. She began to unpack, humming as she did so, yet completely attuned all the while for the slightest shift in the atmosphere.

All that touched her was the feel of the breeze and yet…

She was certain that she was watched. She could feel an unease streaking down her spine. It was as if the eyes of someone—something—were intently upon her, creating a trickle of sensation. An unearthly gaze seemed to reach out and touch her.

Feelings…intuitions. The hackles rising at her nape.

She paused for a moment.

But…

There was nothing solid. Nothing whatsoever. But Darcy knew.

Whatever lay within the room would wait, observe, and bide its time.

Summer hours kept the area light until well past eight in the evening.

Matt arrived home at about six and checked in at the house. He was certain that he’d find Penny and his visitor busily discussing the many ghosts they had already discovered. Maybe they’d even have the Ouija board out.

But Penny was in the kitchen with Joe McGurdy, their chef. Matt hadn’t known that Joe was coming in that night; he usually arrived only when they had a function planned. Finding the two in the kitchen, he arched a brow at Penny while Joe greeted him with a friendly smile.

Penny stared at him reproachfully. “Well, of course, we’re having dinner!” she said.

“We?”

“You, me, Darcy, Clint, and Carter.”

“Of course. Eight-course meal?” Matt asked dryly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. But you didn’t want me to serve beannie-weannies on her first night here, did you?”

“Goodness, of course not,” Matt said. “Where is our guest?”

“Carter saddled up Nellie for her. She’s taken a ride out to see some of the country around here.”

“Do we know that she can ride? There’s some really thick forest if she headed west.”

“Matt, she is an adult. She said she could ride.”

“Maybe I’ll take a ride out to find her anyway,” he muttered, shaking his head at Penny. Great—they were already bringing the chef in and stretching out the welcome mat. He wondered why Carter hadn’t chosen to ride with their visitor.

When he’d changed to jeans and sweater and headed out to the stables, he found out why. Carter shrugged, watching Matt as he led Vernon, his quarter horse, from his stall. “She said that she wanted to do some exploring alone, that it was important for her work. Naturally, I offered to go with her. Are you kidding? The woman is one looker.”

“One kooky looker,” Matt reminded him, slipping a bridle over Vernon’s nose.

“Hey, everybody’s got to make a living somehow, right?” Carter said.

Matt slung a saddle over Vernon’s back. “I imagine she probably had a few other choices.”

“Maybe she’s for real,” Carter said. He thoughtfully chewed a blade of hay, eyes amused as he watched Matt mount up. “You know, I just bought the old Reed place, next county over. If you don’t want her looking for your ghosts, I’ll be happy to have her take a look at mine.”

“I’m sure you intend to have her looking for ghosts,” Matt said, shaking his head. “For the moment, just let me go make sure she’s not lying on a trail somewhere with a broken leg. Whatever possessed you to let her just ride out alone?”

“Let’s see—maybe the fact that she said she didn’t want company?”

“She doesn’t own the place,” Matt reminded him.

Carter shrugged, stroking his beard. “Hell. I don’t own it either, do I now?”

Matt urged Vernon on out of the stable. “Hey—don’t be late for dinner!” Carter called. “Seems like Penny’s got Joe cooking up something good.”

Matt felt his resentment grow, and put a check on it. Adam Harrison had paid a fair price for coming in to do what he was referring to as “research.” And so, hell, they had to feed the woman. Joe would be in again tomorrow night to prepare a meal for those attending the seance. It wasn’t all that big a deal. And as to the horse…

He could just see lawsuits all over the place. She’d ridden out alone. What if she couldn’t really ride? She’d be suing over her injuries.

The logical course was across the vast field to the south of the property, leading into trails that veered to the west. Matt could see that his chosen trail had recently been traveled; hoof-marks dotted the dirt and as he reached the field, flattened grasses assured him his instincts had been right.

Matt crossed the field, and entered into the broad riding trail that led westward, sloping upward from the valley toward the mountains.

Another twenty minutes worth of riding and he came to the narrow little rivulet that meandered its way through the woods. The area was much as it had been for hundreds of years—only the continual use of the trails kept them in such sustained and clear condition. The air was cool, the scent of pine sweet.

When he saw Nellie, riderless, drinking by the stream, he felt a twinge of fear, wondering where the mare might have thrown her rider.

But even as he dismounted, a quick search of the area showed him that he needn’t have been so concerned—nor so certain that his visitor couldn’t ride. Darcy was seated calmly on a fallen log, idly doodling in the dirt with a bonelike length of a broken branch. She watched him without welcome or rejection as he left Vernon to join Nellie, drinking from the crisp, cool water.

“Hello,” he said, striding toward her.

There was still plenty of daylight, but in the forest, the thick canopy of trees created strange slashes of darkness, shadow, and eerie green light. Her hair seemed to shine with an exceptional depth of red, while her eyes appeared a deeper forest shade than the trees themselves. Her complexion appeared paler here, and in her jeans and sweater, she might have been something of an elegant woods nymph. Except, of course, if she were to stand, he knew she would be far too tall to be any elfin creature. It struck him again that what most irritated him about her was that tall, sinewy elegance of hers, the poise and calm that seemed to sit about her shoulders like a cloak.

She clasped her hands around her knees, eyeing him with a certain dry hostility. “Hello, Sheriff. As you can see, I’ve not broken my fool neck, raced your horse into the ground, or gotten lost in the depth of the forest.”

“Did I ever suggest that such things might happen?”

“Only because you had no idea I might ask to ride about the area.”

“You might have mentioned your intentions.”

“When? As you pushed me out of your car at the entrance to Melody House?”

“I did no such thing.”

She shrugged, not deigning to reply. He felt the itch of irritation again. He understood some of what he was feeling. She wasn’t just tall and elegant, but almost absently sensual, her movements smooth and sleek and feline. She seemed to hint of something that smouldered, richly carnal, and yet on top, she was all wrapped up like an ice princess, lips far too often drawn tight and prudish.