Spirit of the Revolution (3 page)

The look they gave each other all but screamed, “Not on your life, missy! Wild dogs couldn’t drag us in there.” But, after a deep breath, they followed her inside. Her brows lifted a tad, and she inhaled a breath of her own as she followed these very different people into her sitting room.

The woman named Ellen halted her footsteps just as she crossed the archway. She took a moment to absorb every detail, from the ivory-painted walls, decorative crown moldings, and baseboards, to the warm earth tones Jo used to accent them. The gaze of her guest lingered over the small built-in arched shelf in the corner, littered with porcelain antiques. Her mouth dropped as she studied her antique secretary, tea tables, and chairs, all artfully arranged on the polished hardwood floor.

“Oh, my goodness,” the woman finally said. “Look what you’ve done to this place. This room is just beautiful. I can’t ever remember a time when I’ve seen it looking so grand.
Not
that I have been inside the house overly much, mind you.”

While the others bobbed their heads in agreement, Jo beamed with pleasure. “Thank you. I’ve put many hours of hard work into the place. At times, I wondered if I would ever get finished.” She gestured toward the furniture. “Please, sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

They exchanged expressions of sympathy as they gingerly sat on the edge of the sofa. Why they huddled together on the couch while three very comfortable chairs remained empty, escaped all comprehension. In fact, she had difficulty understanding the strangeness of these people all the way around. Why would they feel sorry for her? Did they or did they not just give her a compliment regarding the restoration of the property?

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she gazed from one face to the other.

“Oh. No—no. Well, uh, yes, what I mean to say is...” Gloria stammered, while looking to Ellen for help.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s just that—wait a minute. Did you say your name is Jo Michaelsson?” asked Ellen as she sat up a little straighter and placed a hand on her husband’s arm.

Jo could literally see that piece of information locking into Ellen’s brain. “Yes, I did.”

“Do you happen to play with the Philadelphia Orchestra?” she ventured again.

“Yes, I do,” she replied.

“Oh my goodness. Then you are Jolena Michaelsson, of course. You know, we attended a concert not too long ago.” She turned to her companions with widened eyes and something akin to giddiness. “Remember the big charity performance we attended just before Christmas? She performed as the master violin soloist that evening. Anyone who knows anything about world orchestras knows her name. I must tell you, my dear, I especially loved your arrangement of ‘O Holy Night.’ You played it so beautifully you had me in tears.”

The others turned to stare as if in awe.

Jo shook her head, a bit embarrassed over the fuss she made. “Well, thank you very much. You’re very kind.”

Her company relaxed a bit after Ellen’s revelation, and proceeded to have a somewhat normal conversation. If only their eyes didn’t keep darting about as if they expected Jack the Ripper to pop in, the evening might’ve been a little more pleasant. Gloria’s furtive glances finally settled on her antiques, which elicited another gasp of delighted surprise. Better late than never, Jo supposed.

“Oh my. You’ve done this whole room in antiques. How on earth did you acquire such a collection?” Gloria raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “I mean, you just seem so young to have so many. You must’ve started this collection when you were just a child.”

“Well, I guess you could say I’m one of the fortunate few who descend from a long line of pack rats,” Jo replied. “As it so happened, either those pack rats produced very few living heirs, or the surviving siblings simply held no interest in all ‘that junk.’ Hence, many of the pieces passed to my parents and then on to me. I found a few of them myself along the way.”

Questions followed the hesitant acceptance of tea and homemade applesauce cookies. Their inquiries covered everything from the restoration of her house to her career. Eventually, the talk turned to the community and those who lived in it. The fact that Gloria and Ellen were sisters surprised her, for Jo had never seen two people from the same family who seemed so different. Both couples expounded the pros and cons of rural life and gave advice on just about every topic one could possibly think to give. Or at least it seemed so.

Then, after a forever amount of time, the group fell silent. The loud rhythmic tick-tock of the clock made the silence feel even more awkward. Jo struggled for additional conversation, and all the while wished they would just go home. Then, just as she wished it, Richard Anderson jerked forward. He let out a yelp of surprise as he fumbled to find a position to keep from toppling over while hanging on to his cup. His legs wobbled as he shot to his feet. He then grabbed for his wife’s ready hand to steady his stance.

“You know, it’s late, and we really need to go. We’ve intruded far longer than we dare—need too, I mean.” He gave the others a pleading look as he placed his cup on the tea table. Almost in unison, they rose from the sofa and thrust their hands toward her as if they too, wanted to leave.

“I enjoyed meeting you, Jolena,” Gloria said as she gave her hand a brief shake.

“Likewise.” She gave a nod and took each offered hand in turn, grateful for their imminent departure.

Gloria hesitated a moment and then cleared her throat. “Um, if you don’t mind my asking, dear, is there a Mr. Michaelsson about?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Jo resisted the need to roll her eyes and sigh in exasperation. How she hated that question.

“You’re here all by yourself then?” ventured Ellen once again.

“Well, I do have Dakota.” She paused as her guests shot each other furtive glances. “Dakota is my dog, and for the past several years he’s served as my guard, my companion, and my very dear friend. So, you see, I’m not all alone, after all.”

“Oh, of course, but he’s just a—” Ellen shook her head as her light brown eyes bore into Jo’s deep blue ones. “
Do
be very careful dear. This house? Well, it’s…I mean…no one ever stays here very long. Sometimes, it’s just a few days at best. Some of the residents have even left belongings behind. Why, they even left food on the table when they…and they never returned to…to…”

Jo drew her brows together. She found it difficult to understand her incoherent babbling, especially when the woman didn’t finish her sentences. “Excuse me? I don’t know what you—”

“This house is
haunted
—” Gloria blurted the statement as she stepped in front of her sister. “The sounds and the sights that come off this property at times are, are—well they’re unholy. That’s what they are. No one in this community will step one foot near it for any length of time. I think it such a shame you put in all of this hard work and effort when you’re just going to have to turn around and, and—”

Jo had to feign a cough to keep from laughing aloud. Did these people
really
believe in
ghosts
of all things? She hid her smile and attempted to appear a bit more concerned. “Well, I’m sure at one time, given the rundown appearance of the property, one might believe the house—”

“Oh, surely by now you’ve noticed the strange goings on around here,” Ellen interrupted.

“Actually, I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary at all.” Jo shrugged as she clasped her hands together and looked into each anxious, incredulous, face.

“Well, I can guarantee you will,” Richard said with a firm nod of his head. “It’s only a matter of time before something awful happens to you. We’ve seen it so many times. So, please, you must remain on your guard, especially since you’re all alone out here, which I believe is even more—”

“Oh, I’ll be careful, I promise,” she cut in. “And don’t worry, I do have Dakota, and he can be very fierce when he needs to be.”

“Just the same,” Douglas said as he gripped her hand and drew it close to his chest. “Our phone numbers are on the card in the basket, we made sure. You can call day or night if you need us. We can, uh, come and pick you up should the need arise.”

After thanking them once again for the fruit and their concern, her guests simply nodded and rushed out of the door. Richard whispered something then about icy hands snaking through the cushions and shoving him out of his seat. Jo laughed as she leaned against the closed door. She found it somewhat comical. Still, they had good intentions. Other than a few quirks and a need for a bit of therapy, they seemed like very nice people. Once she cleared her sitting room of empty cups, and cleaned up the kitchen, she opened the back door.

“Come on, Dak,” she called. The enormous black-and-tan German shepherd ran to her side and nuzzled his head into her hand as he sought affection.

“So tell me, did you have fun chasing squirrels all over the property today? I bet you really enjoy having all of this space to run in, don’t you.” She knelt down, gathered him close for a long hard hug, and ran her fingers through his soft coat.

“Well, while you ran about having the time of your life, sir, I had to entertain the neighbors. And guess what? They informed me we have ghosts lurking about the premises.” Jo shook her head as she rose to her feet and made her way to the staircase.

“Come on, let’s get ready for bed. This day has gone on far too long. I’m tired, and I want to soak in a nice hot bubble bath, complete with candles and soft music.”

As she arrived at the first step, she paused, placed her hand on the banister, and looked down at her companion.

“And just so you know? You have guard duty.”

Chapter 2

Courtesy of the unseen woman called both Kay-Kay and Carolyn, Mathias finally had the full name of his newest resident. Jolena Leigh Michaelsson
.
He folded his arms against his chest as he repeated it. The name had a nice ring to it. Finally, they wouldn’t need to refer to her as “the girl” anymore.

He waited until Jolena fell into a deep sleep before he ventured into his library, which shared a wall with her bedroom. Over two centuries earlier, he claimed this room as his personal sanctuary. The recent renovations pleased him. Her impressive collection of leather-bound books promised hours of good reading, and the large ornate maple desk would come in handy while he read. She had placed several fascinating instruments on top of it, such as a compass, a sextant, and an astrolabe, to name a few.

He could study the magnificent floor globe, which detailed the current countries of the world, and discover centuries of changes. Behind the desk, she hung a large framed copy of the Declaration of Independence, a document he’d never had the opportunity to read, but could now study in depth. Most especially, he admired her painting of George Washington, entitled Prayer at Valley Forge. The artist truly depicted the spirit of that great and noble man. Jolena also chose this room to house her violin, and he looked forward to hearing her play the thing. Especially after the comments made by the irritating, addlepated neighbors.

She placed a couple of large brown leather chairs in the center of the room facing the fireplace with a small table to separate them. A settee sat against the outermost wall. In front of the chairs and settee, lay small oval rugs.

After he completed his inspection of the library, he headed for the stairs. He wanted to visit the parlor again, and this time, without the disturbance of unwanted guests. The endless chatter of those people could drive even the most patient saint to distraction. He found it a pleasure to rescue the very lovely damsel in distress from their boorish company, and she did look distressed, and then relieved once they vacated the premises.

An instant later, Mathias appeared at the entrance of the downstairs room with a sense of satisfaction. Not just because he ousted the neighbors, but also because the parlor made one feel welcome. The room hadn’t accomplished such a feat for quite some time now. Contentment settled into his being as he made his way inside.

“Insufferable bores, the lot of them,” Sam thundered beside him. “I didn’t think they were ever going to leave. You know, until this evening, their tittle-tattle, and paltry offerings extended no farther than your foyer, and usually no closer than your doorstep. So, could you please tell me why in blazes that had to change now?”

“I don’t have an answer for you, Sam.” Mathias rubbed a hand against his mouth as he shrugged. “They did stay far longer than they ever dared stay before. Still, it took naught but a gentle nudge to remind them why they prefer the porch.”

Sam snorted as he plopped himself on the sofa. “Gentle indeed, the man almost landed face down on the floor. I wonder if your
nudge
will keep them from coming back, despite their obvious adoration for Jolena.”

“I don’t know. I suppose we can hope,” Mathias replied.

“Or, serve up another reminder, either way. On the plus side, they managed to get us a bit of additional information we’ve hankered to know. I suppose we could belch out a ‘Thank ye kindly’ for that. We’ve learned she plays that fiddle upstairs. And, I’m relieved some miserable cur isn’t going to show up on our doorstep expecting a grand welcome after she did all the hard work by herself. Still, there’s but one question yet unanswered.” Sam cocked one booted foot atop the other. “Did they manage to convince our lady the place is
haunted
or did they not?”

“Nah, I don’t think she believes in ghosts,” Mathias replied. “Yet.”

“Well, that has to change, and soon.” Sam stood and at once paced the length of the room with hands clasped behind his back. “The day will come, she’ll notice something amiss. Such is inevitable. We can’t control every element of our existence forever. A noise or two is bound to come through, especially when we go through our paces.”