Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The months passed quickly, as time seemed to do the older Natalie got.

Before she knew it, the searing heat of summer had slipped away. There was a crispness to the air most mornings, which got chased away by noon as the autumn sun warmed the old brick depot that was her home and work.

The trees along Main Street changed, their summer leaves of verdant green turning to burnished shades of red, yellow and bronze.

The arrival of autumn was her favorite time of year since she'd moved upstate.

This year, especially. The application deadline for the dreaded Ghost House show had passed in September—she knew because she'd stalked the PNC website closely—and there'd been no word from the network.

Hopefully that meant that Alice and Harper's postcard writing campaign to get Mudville chosen as the Paranormal Channel Ghost House host town had failed.

That was not a surprise. The romance and the mystery book clubs were strong and active, but their ranks still only amounted to barely a dozen people. Which was great for a town with only a thousand residents—men, women and children included. But not enough to win a contest, thank goodness.

With that worry beginning to dissipate, the rhythm of Natalie's days remained even. Normal.

Well, normal except for one thing… Gabe.

Natalie glanced out the front window now, looking left and then right to see if Gabe was making his way to the shop.

She hated to admit how disturbed she was that he wasn't there as she opened the store and got ready for the day.

Gabe had always been a creature of habit, as was she. Nearly every day since she'd first begun to be able to see ghosts, he'd been there. Sliding through the front door, hovering by the cash register before she'd even finished her first cup of coffee.

That was until that fateful day. The morning after she'd failed to tell Harper the truth.

Gabe had been late arriving that next morning, in spite of knowing she really needed him there, with Millie, so she and Liam could make the fake recording of a real ghost to expose that fraud of a medium, Madame Letisha.

He'd come, but late and not happily. He'd been different since then. Subtle changes but Natalie had noticed. He was still friendly. Still polite. But he wouldn't wander in until the afternoon. Or he'd skip visiting her in the store altogether.

She'd assumed he was just busy with his relationship. His and Millie's was a love story for the ages. Both souls trapped in this earthly purgatory rather than moving on. Both murdered, though one hundred years apart.

But Natalie managed to maintain a relationship with Liam and not completely abandon her friends. As a ghost with no responsibilities—no job, no bills to pay, no laundry to do, no toilets to scrub—certainly Gabe could juggle friends and a love life too.

A part of her suspected Gabe was annoyed with her. Upset because she didn't bare her soul to Harper and Stone that spring day.

It was a long time to hold a grudge.

Easy for him to judge her. No one would stare at him the way they definitely were going to stare and point and whisper about her if she told the truth.

She could imagine quite well how it would go. It had haunted her ever since she'd even considered telling Harper.

There goes that crazy woman who thinks she can talk to ghosts .

Or there's that shop owner who lied about seeing the dead just to get attention and more business .

Her life in Mudville would be forever altered… as if it hadn't been already by her unwilling acquisition of this ability. Power. Curse…

A sound outside had Natalie whipping her gaze toward the street, or what she could see of it through the shop's front windows.

What the hell was that? Hooves?

A horse. And it was traveling fast —or at least that's what it sounded like to her transplanted city girl ears.

She had seen a horse and buggy last year after moving to Mudville. That day she'd whipped out her cell phone and recorded the sighting. She'd immediately texted Harper, Red and Bethany who, like indulgent mothers in the face of an unnecessarily excited child, explained she'd likely have more Amish sightings as they sometimes traveled from the next county to Mudville for the weekly stock sales.

But that horse, though traveling along at an impressive clip in front of its driver and buggy, hadn't sounded as if it was barreling down Main Street like it was the final stretch of the Kentucky Derby. This horse sounded like it was hauling ass.

She shoved open the front door and rushed out onto the sidewalk. By the time she ran to the side street to get a view of Main Street, the sound was gone.

Maybe she shouldn't think anything of the occurrence. There was a good chance it wasn't even an anomaly.

Mudville was in some ways very old fashioned, while in other ways being right on the cutting edge of modern times. An odd duality encapsulated in one tiny village.

There were farmers who sold their crops along the side of the road to tourists and locals alike. While not too far down that road was a building running three shifts manufacturing, for instance, components for the International Space Station.

But Mudville wasn't ride your horse to the store kind of small or old fashioned.

There was a good chance it had just been some farm kids messing around. Racing their horse down Main Street on a dare. Or maybe it was a horse that had gotten loose from a nearby farm. In that case she hoped someone caught it before it got hurt.

With a new worry added to her list—the possible runaway horse's welfare—she turned back toward the shop…and came face-to-face with Gabe. Arms crossed. Face stern.

As happy as she was to see him after the recent dearth in visitations, she knew that was his lecture face.

He had something to say. Or more accurately something to complain about.

Fine. But they were going to do this inside next to her coffee.

"Good morning, Gabe. Come on in." She said it in a tone as bright and sunny as the smile she flashed him and reached for the doorknob.

Gabe, of course, just walked through the window and met her inside, where he once again blocked her way.

Nope. Not gonna happen. Coffee first. Ghost complaints second.

She walked straight at him.

When he didn't move and there wasn't room between the front table of books and the shelves next to it for her to pass, she continued—straight through him.

"Whoa. Since when do you walk through me?" he griped, sounding honestly shocked.

"Since you're blocking my way before I've drank my coffee."

He rolled his eyes. Judgmental, this morning, wasn't he?

Finally in possession of her insulated mug—an attempt to keep her beverage at least some semblance of hot since she got interrupted so much—she took a long sip.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the first bracing swallow.

Opening her eyes again, she turned her focus to Gabe, whose impatient side was showing.

She'd think a guy who had eternity would be less uptight. Show more patience.

Brows raised, she said, "Proceed. What's your grievance today?"

He scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, Cranky McCrankster. Talk. What did you want?" she asked, wondering if he really didn't know he'd been acting differently toward her lately. Or if it was all part of his plan to drive her to confess to Harper.

Or maybe he'd had a fight with his ghost girlfriend, since Millie wasn't with him now. Who knew? It wasn't like he told her anything anymore.

Legs planted wide, he crossed his arms over his chest again. Dressed as he was, in the explorer-slash-adventurer outfit in which he'd died, Gabe looked every bit like a poster for an Indiana Jones movie, sans whip.

"It's October first?—"

"Oh, crap," she interrupted.

The month had changed when she wasn't looking, yet again. It was past time she'd decorated the shop for fall. Not to mention spooky season. The ghosts of Mudville took Halloween very seriously. She'd learned that last year.

"I'm sorry, Gabe. Tell everyone I'll get the shop decorated for Halloween today. I promise."

He shook his head. "It's not that. I mean yes, please do. You're late already in my opinion. Red's had Halloween stuff out in her shop since the first week of August. But that's not what this is about."

"You shop at Red's?" she asked, feeling a little hurt and jealous.

"No, Natalie, I do not shop at Red's," Gabe began, as if she were a five-year-old who needed something explained to her. "I'm a ghost. I have no money nor can I change my clothes."

She let out a sigh. "You know what I mean. I didn't know you hung out there."

"A lot of us do...since you won't allow any of them inside your shop…"

Insult noted, point taken, and summarily ignored.

She continued, "So what are you upset about if not my lack of holiday spirit?"

"You promised you'd tell Harper and Stone."

Yup. She'd been right. Gabe's bad mood was about this.

"It's been months since then and you still haven't done it."

"It hasn't been all that long," she began.

"You promised in late May. I remember because you were bitching that Stone wouldn't plant the annuals in your garden that weren't frost-hardy until the last week of May."

She frowned. "I wasn't bitching."

Gabe ignored the comment except to raise one brow above the gaze he leveled on her. He held up one hand and counted on his fingers. "May, June, July, August, September, October ."

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "You can't count October. Today is only the first. And you really can't count May. It was the end of the month."

She remembered too and Gabe was right. Stone had been working on finally finishing her new Victorian garden in the side yard that day when he'd heard Gabe and Millie speaking and freaked out.

"So your argument is that it's only been four months since you made a promise you didn't keep and not six?" His brow quirked higher, disappearing beneath the brim of his hat.

"It's easy for you to talk. You're not the one everyone is going to think is crazy or a liar because you see the dead."

"Yeah, because it's so easy for me actually being one of the dead."

She swore that if he rolled his eyes one more time at her she was going to toss the nearest book at him. Not that it would do anything but fly through him. But he'd get the idea she was getting angry at least.

"Why are you so upset about this? Why is it so important to you anyway?" she asked.

Harper wasn't Gabe's friend. He wasn't the one having to lie and hide things from her.

"Millie misses living in Agnes's house. She wants to move back in but it's too risky since everyone can hear us when we're together."

Natalie cringed as she inadvertently pictured Gabe and Millie being together —as in the Biblical sense of the word—and what Harper might possibly hear.

She pushed that image far, far away and said, "Why does she want to move back in? She was murdered in that house."

"That house has also been her only home for the past hundred years," Gabe said.

Natalie drew in a breath and let it out. "All right. I get it. But isn't there someplace else—somewhere new—you two can go? Someplace that isn't just hers but both of yours," she suggested, thinking it sounded reasonable. Romantic even. "What about the mansion on the hill? I thought you liked it there."

He shook his head. "Too crowded. Everybody's always hanging out there. It's like a frat house up there now."

"Oh." She cringed again in commiseration with the unfortunate owners of the beautiful property, who'd unwittingly had their home become ghost party central.

"Look, Nat. I do everything you ask of me?—"

"Do you?" She scoffed.

His face hardened. "I made that fake recording you tricked Harper with."

The recording which had saved Natalie from having to confess but had also sent Harper down a ghost-filled rabbit hole, Alice Mudd and the mystery book club members going with her.

In hindsight, Natalie should have considered other options…

She sighed. "I know."

"Why can't you even consider doing this for me?" he asked, his tone as hard as his countenance.

How quickly he'd forgotten all she'd already done for him. Like the fact she'd solved his murder, at great personal risk to herself and Liam. Not to mention ensuring his relatives inherited Gabe's lifelong collection of treasures.

Since he seemed to be keeping score, that all should count in her favor.

"Please," he added, softening.

She met his gaze. "Gabe, you know how I feel about you. You're my best friend."

Liam didn't count. He was her boyfriend. It was different.

"And you're mine," Gabe echoed, warming her heart as she feared he might not feel the same. Or at least not anymore.

"But Gabe. I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I can't do what you're asking."

He paused for a second then nodded. "All right, Nat. You do what you gotta do."

When he turned and left through the front wall she wondered if she might have just lost her best friend.