Chapter 13
BLAIRE
“Did you happen to hear the ghosts last night?” Josie asks, pointing at the ceiling. She’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning. “I was having a mini freak-out.”
My mug stops an inch from my mouth, and I set it down. “Oh, my goodness. What happened?”
“I could’ve sworn I heard a deep voice. Do you happen to know the names of the people who haunt here?”
As soon as the question leaves her mouth, Winter enters, already dressed for the day. Her dark hair is pulled up into a high pony. Sir Charles prances behind her.
“Names?” Winter asks, heading for the coffeepot. “Of whom?”
“The ghosts.” Josie waves her other hand in the air like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I heard a man’s voice last night. It was rumbly. It sounded like it was coming up through the damn floor. I was getting in my head about it and almost woke you both up. It was around midnight or so.”
“That’s very strange,” I tell her, taking a sip of my coffee, squeezing my thighs together.
I can feel every place Jamie was last night. And before he left, that gorgeous, sexy man kissed me like he didn’t want to forget our night together.
“Did you hear me?” Josie says with her brows raised.
Even Winter is staring at me.
“Sorry, totally not awake yet. Please repeat it.”
“I was just saying how worked up I was getting over it. I’ve never been that close to anything supernatural.”
“Ah.”
Sir Charles hops onto the chair beside me, stealing my attention away. I reach for him, and he actually lets me pet his head before he lifts his paw to bat at me. I laugh it off. Little turd.
“I honestly didn’t hear anything,” Winter admits. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I sleep like the dead. One time, an ambulance backed down my parents’ street, beeping its head off. I was the only one who was surprised in the morning. It woke up every house.”
“Damn,” I say, but I’m also happy about that.
Josie shivers with her whole body, excited and terrified, all at once. “What if he was watching me shower?”
It takes all the willpower I have not to spew my coffee everywhere.
Winter stares at her. “What if he’s a hot ghost? I shouldn’t, but for some reason, I’m imagining Patrick Swayze’s ghost being in the house. Someone, get me a clay wheel.”
Josie tilts her head. “Who is that?”
Winter is offended.
I speak up. “Maybe you were just drifting off and imagined it?”
“I thought that, but then I heard it again,” she says.
I want to talk about something else before I get back in my head and start replaying every moment. It was one of the hottest nights of my life.
She must’ve heard Jamie. Maybe she heard it all, and she’s seeing if I’ll admit it or not.
“What else?” Winter asked, now looking more concerned than before as she makes a breakfast taco.
Josie finishes chewing the huge bite she took. I’ve already polished off one, and I’m considering having another. My homemade tortilla recipe is amazing.
“Well, it was just after three when the stairs creaked, and then I heard Charlie meow. I’m pretty sure he can see dead people.”
I glance over at Charlie, who gives me the stink eye. Right now, only he and I know the truth, and it needs to stay that way.
“You know, my aunt always said he was her little familiar.” I think back to all the times weird things happened while I was here and the stories my aunt would tell me. “And she mentioned a male presence in the house too.”
That’s not a lie.
“Do you know any information about him?” Josie’s voice drops low. “Was the guy murdered here?”
She rubs goose bumps from her arms as Winter glances between us.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know the full history of the house. I’m sure you could dig in the town archives and find more things about it. Oh, or contact the Pine Haven Historical Society. They keep extremely detailed records of the town, especially the house.”
“I think I might.” Josie abandons the last bite. “Can we do a séance and talk to him? I want to find out more info.”
“Hell no!” Winter interrupts. “Have you ever watched Beetlejuice?”
“No,” Josie says. “I don’t watch much TV.”
“That’s a crime against pop culture. Please don’t make me un-cousin you.” I finish off the rest of my coffee and stand to stretch before filling it to the top again.
She shrugs. “What can I say? I lived on a beautiful beach and wanted to be outside in the sun and sand all day.”
“Consider it added to your fall to-do list. Actually, I think I might give you a list,” I say.
“Please let me contribute to this. I’ve made several references to nineties movies, and the youngster didn’t get it,” Winter says.
“Youngster?” She scoffs. “You’re only two years older than me.”
“Chat with me when you’re in your thirties,” Winter tells her.
“Hard pass. That’s two whole years away. I’ll worry about it then.” Josie rinses her plate in the sink.
“Beetlejuice first,” Winter says, ticking movies off on her fingers. “Then Ghost, obviously, since Patrick Swayze is our new roommate. Practical Magic. Hocus Pocus, if you want some witchy vibes. Then, after you watch those, I have a huge list of others.”
“I feel like I’m being enrolled in a class.”
“You are,” I say. “Welcome to your first real fall. Attendance is mandatory.”
“Okay, well, joke’s on both of you because I came prepared for it.” Josie digs into her hoodie pocket, pulls out a folded piece of paper, and smooths it flat on the table like a treasure map. “I actually started a fall bucket list. I’ve been waiting for the weather to catch up.”
Winter leans over and reads out loud. “Cider doughnuts. Apple picking. Hay maze. Drive up and look at the yellow trees.” She grins.
“You have to do the scenic drive that goes from here, over the ridge, through Cozy Creek, and back around in a loop. You’ll never see fall colors like that anywhere in the world. It’s beautiful,” I say.
“I was told Coleman’s Orchard is having its season opening today. Doris Jean said the doughnuts sell out by noon, so I was going to head that way now,” Josie tells me.
“You two should go,” Winter suggests.
“That’s a great idea!” Josie immediately smiles.
“I really, really have to do inventory and stock up on herbs today,” I say.
“And? You can do it afterward. We won’t be there all day.” She’s convincing. “Please? Pretty please. There’s only one opening day of the season. It’s supposed to be magical.”
“You know it will only take a few hours,” Winter says.
The two of us grew up in the area, and apple picking at Coleman’s is an experience.
I open my mouth to argue and close it again because a morning down in the valley honestly sounds fun. It’s been years since I went. Besides, the aspens have really started to turn this week, so the drive will be gorgeous.
“Okay! Only because you twisted my arm.”
“Yay! Thank you! I promised my sister I’d send her tons of pictures for her to be jealous of,” Josie says. “Going upstairs to put my boots on. Can we leave in about ten? I want to be one of the first there.”
“Absolutely,” I tell her.
I go upstairs and get dressed in some warmer clothes since a cold front moved in early this morning. The temperatures have significantly dropped. Fall was like, Hold my beer. I’m coming.
Frost gathers in the corners of the windows while my breath hangs a little longer on the porch. The pumpkins are covered in glittery ice until the sun rises. Josie sprints to the car like the beach girl she is, but she decides she wants to drive her car because of the heated seats.
“Don’t hate on the Bug,” I tell her.
“I’m not. I just really enjoy technology. It’s too cold for that.”
Coleman’s sits a half hour down the valley, low enough for fruit trees to survive what our altitude does to them. The drive is what I love most about being in Colorado in September.
The hillsides are full of gold leaves fluttering every time the wind moves. It’s almost like the mountain is showing off just for Josie. She’s in awe the entire drive.
As we pull into the parking lot, I’m shocked by how many vehicles are already here. I’m pretty sure half of the surrounding towns are in attendance for this.
Coleman’s opening weekend is an experience. They pull out the wagons to give tours of the property and also have a cider press churning by the barn. Everywhere I look, there are lines.
It’s warmer in the valley and greener than in the mountains. The air has a mix of sweet apples and dry leaves. We stand under a sky so blue that it looks like a painting. Josie squeals with happiness.
“I’m going to the restroom,” I tell her. “I’ll find you in line.”
“Perfect!” She heads straight for the doughnut window.
As I turn and make my way toward the outhouse buildings, a familiar voice finds me.
“Beautiful,” I hear in a deep grumble.
I spin around, and there he is, leaning against the fence rail by the outbuildings with his ball cap pulled low and a paper bag of apples in one hand, looking like trouble that got a full night’s sleep.
I close the distance so my voice doesn’t have to carry. “Not in public. Someone could overhear.”
“It’s just us. I made sure the coast was clear.” His mouth does this obnoxiously cute little smirk. “Small world.”
“Getting smaller by the day.” My heart does a somersault. I saw this man six hours ago. I can still feel where he kissed my shoulder. “Why are you here?”
“The same reason you are. It’s opening day. Plus, Autumn told me I’d regret not experiencing this.” He glances toward the doughnut line, then back at me.
“Oh, so you’re becoming besties with my best friend?” I ask, popping my brow.
He licks his lips. “If you only knew what she’s said about you.”
“Don’t make me call her.”
He tilts his head like he’s daring me. “And give us away? I know better, sweetheart.”
I try to hold back a smile but fail. “Always this cocky?”
“Always,” he confirms, checking the path in both directions. Then he grabs my hand, pulling me away with him.
“Jamie.”
“Thirty seconds.”
He tows me around the back corner of the cider barn, where the empty crates are stacked higher than my head. The crowd noise disappears, and for a second, it’s just us.