Chapter 2
Chapter Two
S hiloh stood in the driveway of her newest project.
It really was a nightmare.
She heard a large truck pull off the street and the engine shut down, but Shiloh didn’t dare look away. She was almost positive that if she turned her back, something from the underworld would come crawling out of the jungle of a yard, and she’d end up mincemeat before she ever walked inside.
Heavy boots came up behind her. “You’re joking, right?”
Shiloh grinned and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “What are you talking about? It’s beautiful.”
Jett came into her peripheral view. “I feel like I’m being pranked.” He blew out a breath and scratched his chin. “You didn’t buy a fixer-upper, you bought a haunted house.”
“It’s not haunted,” Shiloh argued, finally turning his way. “It’s…got personality.”
Jett tilted his head to the side and gave her a look. “That’s not personality. That’s terrifying.”
“Oh, is the whittle baby afraid of a few spiders?” Shiloh teased, purposefully speaking in a high-pitched tone. She laughed when Jett’s glare grew more intense. “Seriously, though. I got it for a scream.”
“That must have been some scream.” Jett grunted. He looked back at the house and took in a long, slow breath. “I only have about ten minutes. I’m squeezing this in between appointments and didn’t think it was going to be this bad.”
“I told you it was the best one yet.”
“And I’ll be completely truthful when I say I didn’t believe it.” Jett shook his head. “I’m not even gonna bother to go in,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll be sucked into a portal to purgatory or something.”
“What?” Shiloh shouted. “You came over here and now you’re leaving without even looking inside?”
Jett turned to look at her fully. “I’ll send a note to Tate. Maybe he has a little time to come look through it with you.” Jett eyed the cottage warily. “But walking through there is not a five minute job.”
“You said you had ten,” Shiloh pointed out.
“And we’ve spent five of them on the driveway.” He eyed the broken concrete under his feet. “You’re gonna need more help than usual on this one,” he stated bluntly. “Do you want me to send over my landscape guy?”
“You have one on retainer?” Shiloh asked.
“I have a buddy from high school who’s a landscape architect.” Tate shrugged. “I use him on most of our new builds, but it’s his own company.”
Shiloh nodded and eyed a rose bush that was more like a tree. “That might be nice. I usually do the outside myself, but this time…”
“Yeah. This time.” Jett shook his head and spun. “Don’t hurt yourself in there. And if you need help, give a call.”
“What if I’m in purgatory?” Shiloh called to him. “Do you think my cell will work from there?”
Jett waved over his shoulder, not bothering to continue the conversation, but Shiloh grinned. Jett tended to be serious, but she knew her jokes were hilarious.
Turning back around, Shiloh stuck her chin in the air and marched forward. “Purgatory or not, we’re gonna have a look,” she whispered to herself.
This was the first time she’d purchased a property sight unseen. It was a foreclosure that the bank just wanted gone. They’d had it for years, hence the condition, and had decided to liquidate it.
Shiloh had been the lucky recipient of the announcement and snatched it before news hit the public. Now, she was the proud owner of a haunted cottage and just hoped that the money she saved by purchasing the property would come out as a wash by the extra she’d need to fix it up.
The key stuck slightly in the lock, and she had to jiggle it to make it fit. When the knob still didn’t want to turn, Shiloh turned her shoulder and gave a heave-ho, leaving a bruise in the process, but at least she was finally inside.
The hinges squealed so loudly that Shiloh actually waited at the threshold. Slowly, she bent over, head in the door, waiting to hear the sounds of anything alive that might have been disturbed by the door opening.
“Ew,” she whispered. Jett had been right. It really was like a haunted house. Cobwebs hung from wooden ceiling beams, and furniture was covered in cloths that had two inches of dust on them. The windows were so dirty that the sunlight barely broke through, and the small amount of light available was so dark, it only added to the gloom rather than lifting it.
Carefully, she stepped inside, very grateful she’d worn work clothes. Warily, her eyes wide as they studied her surroundings, she pulled her gloves from her back pocket and slid them on.
No way she was touching anything in this place without a barrier. Who knew what disease was waiting to jump at her?
“Why is it so dirty?” she whispered as she walked through the room. While personal knickknacks, such as family pictures, had been removed, it was clear that when the previous owners left, they did so in a hurry.
Books and papers, a single torn canvas of the ocean, and other remnants of humanity were scattered around the space, looking as if they’d been in a whirlwind.
A shiver ran up Shiloh’s spine, and she rubbed her arms. “Something isn’t quite right,” she murmured. Looking around, Shiloh realized there was some kind of breeze in the room, and the direction wasn’t right for coming from the front door. “Crap.”
Her speed picked up, and she marched farther into the house, searching for whatever window had either been pried open or left open. Either way, the damage was going to be significant. Years of wind, dust, and seasons had obviously hit the house with that opening, and Shiloh would have extra work to do because of it.
“Aha..”
There it was. In the small, formal sitting room, Shiloh found a window at waist level that was open several inches. Studying it, she scowled. The scrapes along the wood suggested vandalism. At some point in time, someone had worked their way inside, looking for things to sell or steal, and left the window open in their wake.
“There’s nothing here to steal,” Shiloh told the empty room. “Or…there isn’t now.” She sighed and pressed down on the window to close it, but it didn’t budge. “Come on.” Gritting her teeth, Shiloh pushed harder, but still it didn’t move.
Gasping a little from the exertion, she studied the frame and bit back another curse at the warping she could easily see. The intruder had left it because it was wedged. Mother Nature had made sure it stayed that way by distorting the frame.
“Well.” Shiloh put her hands on her hips and spun in a circle. “Just one more thing to add to the growing list.” She kicked at a broken plate on the floor. Why that was in the sitting room, Shiloh was positive she’d never know. But still, she’d wanted a project, and she’d found a project.
“Kick it into gear, Shiloh Baxter,” she told herself in a firm voice. “Time to make this place shine like the top of the Chrysler Building.”
“Bye, Dad!” Zane slammed the screen door as he rushed into the backyard.
Sighing, Granger stood from the table and began to pick up the breakfast dishes. “Bye,” he muttered, desperately wanting to go back to bed.
Ever since Zane had been asking about Granger getting married again, Granger had been struggling to get a good night’s sleep. Why the thought of something that would never happen was stressing him out so much, Granger couldn’t say.
But it was.
And he was feeling every bit his age at this point.
“I need to bottle Zane’s energy and sip it through the day.” Taking the dishes to the sink, Granger began to rinse and load, starting the dishwasher when he was finished.
Maybe if he was lucky, this afternoon he could get a nap. It was supposed to be a slow day. Granger’s workload was a little light at the moment, so he had a full day off, and he and Zane could just chill.
“Dad! Watch!”
Granger stepped to the door and looked outside. “Wow, bud. That’s really high.” He smiled as Zane pumped his little legs to swing higher and higher.
“Now watch!”
Granger’s eyebrows had just begun to furrow when his son attempted to leap from the swing. A burst of curse words flew from his lips when Zane’s arm jerked in the swing chain before the boy tumbled to the ground.
Granger flew across the grass before the door had a chance to close and knelt at his son’s side. “Where does it hurt, Zane? It’s going to be okay. Can you—” He cut off talking when a crying Zane rolled over just enough to let Granger see his arm.
His very, very broken arm.
This time Granger bit back the words he wanted to say and instead focused on talking to Zane. “Alright, bud. It’s fine. You’re gonna be fine.”
Zane was gasping, his face red and his tears uncontrollable. “It hurts. My arm hurts.”
“I know, big guy. But it’s gonna be fine.” Granger felt for his back pocket and grimaced when he realized his phone was inside. “I need to get my phone, okay? I’m only going to be gone for a moment. It won’t take long.”
“No! Dad!”
Granger hated the need in his son’s tone. Rushing back into the house was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but they needed help and Granger couldn’t get it by staying in the grass. “Okay, okay. I’m back.” He put a hand on Zane’s head. “Just breathe, okay? Slow it down a little. Breathe in, breathe out.” Granger demonstrated, forcing his chest to move up and down as he tried to talk his son off the ledge. “That’s it, Z. Good. Just keep breathing for me.”
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
Ten minutes later, the ambulance pulled into Granger’s front yard, and he told the dispatch to have them come straight to the back. He wasn’t about to leave Zane again.
“Heard we had a little accident back here,” a middle-aged man said, pulling a gurney behind him.
“You could say that,” Granger said with a tight smile. He looked down at Zane. “Looks like the heroes are here. You ready to let them look at your arm?”
“Heroes?” The little boy hiccuped. “Is it Mr. Luca?”
Granger chuckled. Ever since the ex-military man had come home, Zane had been in awe of the larger-than-life fitness guru. With an eyepatch, a bald head and biceps that made every other man in the area feel like a weakling, Granger had to admit to being a little in awe of Luca himself.
“No. Not Luca. But these guys are still heroes.” Granger ran a hand over his son’s hair. “They help people who get hurt.”
“That’s right,” the emergency worker said, coming up on Zane’s other side. Smiling, the man winked at Zane. “I have a couple sons myself, and one of them broke his arm when he was young. I know just how to get you fixed up.”
“It hurts,” Zane whimpered. “I don’t want to move.”
The man nodded slowly, then glanced at the two colleagues who had come with him. “I understand that. But I think we need to get you to the hospital. The doctors there will give you some medicine to help you feel better, and then we’ll be able to get your arm all settled.” Smiling wider, the man leaned in. “Besides. Soon you’ll have an awesome cast that all your friends can sign.”
Zane looked up at his dad for confirmation, and Granger nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll make sure to get special markers so you can draw on it, okay?”
Zane’s bottom lip trembled some more. “Okay.”
Two hours later, an over-exhausted Granger was ready to take an even more over-exhausted Zane home.
Only he’d ridden in the ambulance. Running his fingers through Zane’s hair as the boy laid in Granger’s lap, Granger called the only help he had in this town.
“Granger,” Jett responded succinctly. “Just the man I needed to talk to.”
Granger scowled. “While I’m happy to listen to what you need, I’d be even happier if you’d be willing to do it while picking me and Zane up.”
“Sure,” Jett agreed easily. “Where are you?”
Granger hesitated for a moment. “The hospital.” He hated asking for help. He hated that as a single parent, he was constantly scrambling to keep up and that his friends always bore the brunt of his ineptitude.
“The hospital?” Jett clarified.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe you could tell me why I’m picking you up there,” Jett said carefully. “Because I’m not much of a worrier, but the fact that you’ve got Big Z with you tells me I should be.”
“Zane jumped off a swing this morning and broke his arm,” Granger said, letting his head fall back against the waiting room wall.
“Ah, man. Poor guy.” Jett’s sigh came through the line. “I’m assuming you took an ambulance ride together which is why you’re stranded?”
“Two for two.”
“Right.”
Granger could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.
“Be there soon. Tell Zane to be tough for me.”
Before Granger could respond, the line went dead, and he set the phone aside, going back to running his fingers through Zane’s hair. As much as Granger hated asking for help, he was grateful there were people in his life he could ask, mostly meaning the McCoy boys.
It was just the twins for a long time, but Luca being back added a third, steady presence in not only Granger’s but Zane’s life, and his new wife, Serenity was slowly adding a bit of female love as well.
After Ella left, Granger worried that Zane wouldn’t have enough supporters in his life, but the McCoys had changed all that.
Moving back to Lighthouse Bay had been the right choice, even though life was difficult. The town wasn’t tiny, but it was small enough to feel cozy and safe…mostly. The string of break-ins on Main Street were a little disconcerting, but they weren’t affecting Granger or Zane personally, so it felt less urgent than it should, probably.
Still, Granger was grateful to the McCoys, and he owed them a lot more than he’d ever be able to pay in this lifetime. If there ever came a chance to offer a bit of support in return, Granger would happily take it. After all, that was exactly what friends did.