Gavin McBride, Maddox’s dad and my uncle, agreed to let me fix up the old lodge and try making it into a business. Although we still call it the hunting lodge, it doesn’t get rented out to hunters. We do have a few thousand acres of hunting ground, but it’s been deemed too much of a liability to have drunken hunters stay here. With Lora’s help, we rent it out for parties, business meetings, and weddings. Most people stay for long weekends to enjoy the property, which is well over ten thousand acres. We’ve got some of the best horse trails around, not to mention the Fort Worth nightlife, which is only a limo ride away.
Six hours later, my hands raw from washing, scrubbing, and laundering, I return to my cabin to shower before hopping onto my ATV for the trip to the main house.
After pulling up to Maddox’s, I’m waved at by no less than five barn workers and ranch hands. When I’m not doing lodge business, I’m usually here, helping mend fences or bailing hay. To them, I’m one of the guys, just like Maddox wants us to be.
Andie is coming out of the south stable. She bounces over to me, clearly elated.
“I’m guessing you birthed a horse today?” I say.
She smiles big. “Two of them. Two healthy foals. I’d say that makes for a good Sunday.”
My eyes flicker to her hands. “You will be washing up before cooking supper, yes?”
Laughter follows me up the porch steps. “Already did. Anyway, I’m not cooking. Maddox is making his famous short ribs.”
My mouth waters. If there’s one thing my cousin does well, it’s cooking short ribs.
Andie scoops up her daughter, who is playing on the living room floor. Viv squeals as her mother twirls her around the room. Andie holds the baby out to me. “Can you take her for a minute?”
I balance her on my hip. “How old is she now?”
“Six months yesterday,” Andie says, heading across the room to join Maddox in the kitchen.
I peer down at the small human. “You’re a big girl now, aren’t you?”
She babbles.
Andie sets the table and puts Viv into her highchair. During supper, she spoon-feeds her orange and green goop from a jar.
“I’m thinking of staying at the lodge for a few nights,” I say.
“Something wrong with your cabin?” Maddox asks. “Your toilet broken?”
“Nothing like that. The cabin’s great. But several people in the last few groups at the lodge have claimed a ghost is there.”
Andie freezes, the spoon halfway to Vivian’s lips. “A ghost. Really?”
Maddox’s head bobs up and down repeatedly. “You could use it as a hook to get more business. Haunted hunting lodge. People love that shit.”
Andie gives him a biting glare.
He looks guilty. “Sorry, babe. I meant people love that stuff.”
“I’m not buying it. I’m going to stay there a few nights and see what’s up. I’m sure it’s a creaky step. Maybe shadows made by the stained-glass window I installed over the front door.”
“You’re staying there alone?” Andie asks.
“Last time I checked, I was a grown man.”
Andie studies me. “I wouldn’t do it, even for money. A hundred-year-old building in the middle of nowhere? Nobody will hear if you scream.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s no ghost, Andie. I just want to get to the bottom of why people might think there is.”
She points her fork at me. “There’s a lot of history here, Aaron. You’ve seen the graveyard beyond the ridge. We’ve told you the stories Maddox’s grandmother passed down to us.” She turns to her daughter. “Your namesake knew everything about this place. One day we’ll tell you all about it.”
“Want company?” Maddox asks.
“Oh, no,” Andie says. “You’re not leaving us alone here if there’s a ghost on the ranch.”
He looks amused. “You don’t really believe in that shi—uh, stuff, do you, babe?”
“Like I said, there’s a lot of history on this ranch.”
“Could be my grandmother,” Maddox says.
She shakes her head. “If Vivian were going to haunt anything, I guarantee you it would be this house or maybe the stables. She barely went into that old lodge.”
“You’re probably right. Could be that some hunter died there years before she bought the place.”
I snicker. “Jesus, you two are way too gullible. There’s no ghost.”
“Guess you’ll know soon enough,” Maddox says. “Might want to keep your gun handy.”
Andie narrows her eyes. “Will a bullet hurt a ghost?”
“Fair point,” he says. “Might want to try garlic or a pointy stake through the heart.”
“Those are for vampires.”
I clear the dishes and wash up. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you in the morning… if I survive the night.” I cackle a spooky laugh and kiss Viv’s soft curls before leaving.
Maddox says, “If I don’t hear from you by nine, I’ll send a search party.”
“Ha-ha.” I grab my cowboy hat and put it on, then leave.
At my cabin, I get a book, a six-pack of Coke, and some snacks, then start for the lodge. Before I get too far, I decide to go back and find my gun.
Once inside the lodge, I contemplate locking the doors. But here on the ranch, we never lock doors, so I decide against it. I can hear Andie saying, “Ghosts don’t use doors.”
There’s a logical explanation for what people have seen. There always is.
I take the sodas from the plastic rings and place them in two rows on the left side of the refrigerator, then check the expiration dates on the yogurt and stack them according to freshness. Being raised by a woman who owns a restaurant, it was ingrained in me to organize a kitchen properly.
It’s late, and I had a long day, but I’m determined to stay up as long as I can. I take my book into the living room and open it to the dog-eared page. I’m not sure how much I read, however, because I’m concentrating on every little sound. It’s windy outside, which isn’t helping.
I trace a banging noise to the screen door I hadn’t latched right. A window rattles in one of the guest rooms, and I mentally put it on my list of things to fix.
I settle back down to read, my eyelids growing heavy.
The next thing I know, the lodge is illuminated by the morning sun. Damn. I didn’t even make it to midnight. I rub my eyes and go to the kitchen for a soda to help wake me up.
I know how I organized the cans last night—two rows of three—but one of them is missing. Not one from the front either; one from the back. As if someone didn’t want anyone to notice a can was gone. A yogurt is missing, too.
There’s no ghost at the lodge. It’s a goddamn thief.
Chapter Two
Devyn
Three weeks ago…
I gaze at the old lodge, only it’s not so old anymore. It doesn’t look lived in necessarily, but changes have been made. There are no cars around, unless you count the old junkers off to one side that we used to get stoned in while looking at the stars until dawn. That is, until some guy named Matteo put the fear of God in us and banished us from the property. I was sixteen. Life was good then.