DILLEHAY
CROSSING
Chapter
1—An Old Farm House
Abi
slipped into her running gear, inched past her sleeping husband, blew him a
silent kiss, and tiptoed downstairs. After
a quick drink of water, she eased out the back door. The lavender early morning
lit her way as she approached the gravel trails that meandered along the
creek’s edge. At first her stride was
short and her pace slow; but as her heart pounded harder, the blood in her body
heated, and her tight muscles loosened.
Abi lengthened her stride and quickened her pace. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead,
stung her eyes, and blurred her vision.
So when the trail turned sharply, Abi didn’t see the broken tree
branches in front of her.
She stumbled and
landed face first in some underbrush. She
stood up, wiped the dirt and sweat off her face, and caught a glimpse of
something just around the bend. What were those old structures off in the
distance? She’d never seen them
before. She shook off her fall and
continued her run, curiosity and adrenalin surging through her body. Abi ran across a narrow, shallow bend at
Dillehay Crossing where an old dilapidated farm house, Texas wind wheel, and
crumbling red barn came into view.
She slowed to a walk as she followed the
rutted weed-grown track to the barnyard and ventured inside the decrepit red
barn. She brushed her fingers over a
rusty, turn-of-the-century tractor. Who once lived in this farm house and drove
this old tractor? Abi strolled up
the dirt and gravel walkway that led toward the discolored, broken down farm house. The crumbling and sagging structure beckoned
her inside; so she crept up the rickety steps onto the front porch. Using her shoulder, Abi shoved open the front
door and found that—although the wooden house was clearly decaying—the floors
were not rotten and actually looked sturdy enough to bear her weight.
She entered the
house, turned right, and discovered the parlor had a fireplace with an
adjoining kitchen and an antiquated four-hole wood cook stove. Abi picked up the empty cast iron cooking pot
from the stove and pretended to stir its contents. How
long have you been waiting for the woman of the house to return? She asked it silently and smiled.
Abi retraced her
steps then made an immediate left toward the stairs. At the base of the steps, Abi saw her—the
cloudy figure of a woman. A ghost?
Abi sucked in her breath as her eyes traveled upward, looking for some semblance of a face. Only smoke—gray smoke—filled in the places
where the woman’s nose, mouth, and eyes were supposed to be. The eerie image made Abi’s skin crawl, and a
cold shudder trickled down her spine.
She stood frozen in place, unable to move. The woman turned and floated up the stairs,
the morning light passing through her like sunlight through smoke.
There was no sense
of threat; so Abi slowly followed the woman who never looked back or
hesitated. Did she know Abi was there?
At the top of the
stairs, the woman disappeared as she faded through one of the bedroom
doors. Abi jumped as a young woman’s
frantic voice begged from behind the wall.
“Hurry! Fetch the doctor right
away! Something’s terribly wrong!”
Abi jumped back,
spun around, and scurried back through the house. Once outside, Abi rushed back down the dirt
and gravel road. She leapt across the
shallow end of Dillehay Crossing then sprinted along the creek’s edge until her
own front porch was in sight. Finally, she
stopped and caught her breath, and bent over with her hands on her knees. Questions whirled through her mind. Who was
the woman she’d seen? Whose voice did
she hear? Just who were the farmers who
had once cared for the livestock and land on the other side of Dillehay
Crossing? Why did they leave? Were they in any way related to her husband
and the Mason family? Abi
straightened. She’d have to ask
Howie. But would he believe her if she
told him about the woman? She pursed her
lips and squinted up at the morning sun rising above the eastern horizon. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him about the woman
just yet.
“Where have you
been?” A familiar voice shouted out,
disrupting her thoughts.
Abi turned in the
direction of the voice and smiled at Howie with his unruly hair, still
shirtless, standing on the front porch with a mug of hot coffee in his
hand.
“I’ve been out for
my morning run.”
“You were gone for
over an hour, and I was worried about you.”
He came down the porch steps to meet her and swept her against him for a
morning kiss.
“You shouldn’t
worry about me, Howie.” Abi wrapped her
arms around him and gazed into his eyes.
“I can take care of myself. Besides,
I discovered the most fascinating turn-of-the-century farmhouse on the other
side of Dillehay Crossing!”
“You didn’t go
inside it did you?”
“Yes, I did. You won’t believe what I saw!” Abi’s voice trembled with excitement.
“You need to stay
clear of that place!”
His tone made her
pull back. “But Howie, why? You know I love exploring old houses and
learning about their history.” Abi
tilted his coffee mug and stole a sip of coffee, trying to placate him. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“Seriously,
Darlin’! Don’t go down there! All sorts of varmints and critters lurk in
that old house. It’s far too dangerous
and just plain ol’ scary.” Howie’s
expression didn’t soften. “When I was a
kid, I was riding my horse along Dillehay Creek when an overcast sky turned
black, and a thunderstorm rumbled its way across the property. The first crack of lightening struck a nearby
tree and spooked my horse. He bucked,
threw me to the ground, and fled back to my barn. The driving rain forced me to seek shelter in
that abandoned old house until the storm passed.”
“Oh, Howie! You escaped into that old house during a
thunderstorm! Tell me more.” Abi danced in place. “What did you do? What did you see? What did you hear?”
“I dashed toward
the house and flung open the front door.
But once over the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me leaving me
trapped inside a long, dark corridor. So,
I walked toward a room in the center of the house. When I opened that door, the air in the room
suddenly chilled, and I froze in place.”
Howie closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “As I stood there, I caught a woody scent
lingering in the air that reminded me of tobacco smoke. I glanced around the room and saw a small
beam of light streaming through a small crack from a nearby boarded up
window.” He opened his eyes. “And that’s when I saw a man dart out the
front door, mount a dark horse, and ride it through the thunderstorm heading
for town.”
Abi looked Howie
straight in the eyes. “So, you saw a
ghost rider?”
“Well, I thought I
did. Remember, I was just a cold,
frightened kid trapped in an old house during a thunderstorm. The storm exaggerated the house’s eerie
atmosphere and made me believe I saw a man climb onto his horse and head toward
town. You know as well as I do that
ghosts don’t exist.”
Abi
broke eye contact with Howie and decided not tell him about the woman she’d
seen. “Will you at least tell me who
once lived there? Were they Masons?”
“I can’t really
tell you much.” He shrugged. “All I know is that my great Aunt Sara
Francis and her husband, Robert, lived there.
No one’s lived on that property since sometime in the 1930s—a long time
before I was born.” He smiled down at
her. “You’d have to talk to Granddaddy
Dave about them. I’m warning you… he’s a
crusty ol’ galoot who doesn’t like to talk about that side of the family.” His eyes twinkled. “Something tells me, though, that he might
just open up to you.”
“Fair enough.” Abi tossed her head. “I’ll just have to wait for the right time.”
“How about some breakfast?” He took her hand and led her up the porch and
into the kitchen. “Look.” He picked up a plate from the table and waved
it under her nose. “I cooked the traditional
Mason breakfast—crispy bacon, fried eggs, and biscuits with cream gravy.”
She wrinkled her
nose. “Nothing like starting your day
with enough cholesterol for an entire week!”
“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying to
have breakfast with his new bride.
Besides you need to eat something before you leave for work.” He winked.
“Where are those muffins you love?
You know the ones with all the nooks and crannies? How ‘bout I toast one for you?”
“Howie, you really
know how to charm a girl!” He blushed
as she kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“We got any apple butter in the fridge?”
“Whatever my
darlin’ bride wants.” Howie toasted an
English muffin and spread a thin layer of apple butter across both halves of
it. “Here’s your muffin, Darlin’, and
some cranberry juice. You’ll definitely
be needin’ something to wash down that hockey puck!”
She took a small
bite of the muffin. “Oh, this muffin is
just perfect!” She smiled. “You shouldn’t be so critical of your
toasting skills.”
“Alright. You got me.”
He gently hugged her and looked into her eyes. “You look a bit tired this morning.”
“Well, now, aren’t
you the perceptive husband! Yes, I
didn’t sleep well. So, I’m pretty tired
this morning.”
“Here,” he patted the bottom of a chair, “sit next to me and tell me why
you were so restless last night.”
“Oh….it’s work
related.” She took a long drink of her
juice. “One of the Hickory Pines
residents is on my mind. He just seems
like a troubled soul, and for some reason I can’t seem to stop thinking about
him.”
He reached for her
hands, clasping hers in his. “What makes you think this man is troubled?”
“For one thing,
when I talk to him, he just mumbles and groans;he raises one eyebrow then just
stares back at me with those dark, brooding eyes.”
“He definitely
sounds creepy to me!” He snickered. “No wonder you can’t get him out of your
head.”
“Seriously,
Howie!” She pulled her hands away and
glared back at him. “I see years of pain
in his eyes and desperation across his face.
I want to reach out to him but just don’t know how.”
“I know you’re
serious, Darlin’. Honestly, I wasn’t
trying to make light of your concerns. I
apologize.” He kissed her knuckles. “Please continue. What’s his name? How old is he? Why did he move into Hickory Pines?”
“His name is
Frank; my supervisor told me he moved into Hickory Pines a few weeks
ago—shortly after he was diagnosed with the early stages of Parkinson’s
Disease. I believe he’ll be 60 years old
come this January.”
“I’m no expert
here, but maybe he’s having trouble adjusting to life with Parkinson’s.”
“True. That’s
possible.” Abi leaned back in her
chair. “At least that’s what my training
tells me, but my gut tells me that there’s more ailing Frank than his disease.”
“What else does
Maggie have to say about him?”
Abi frowned. “When I spoke with her, Maggie told me she
didn’t know much about his past, or his circumstances. I guess he’s a bit of a mystery to us all.’.” Abi looked at Howie. “One of the nurses complained about him. She told me that Frank is just a brute of a
man. She said he never showers and
smells like stinky feet and blows nasty cigar smoke in her eyes. She simply refuses to care for him.”
“He does sound a bit strange to me, too,
Darlin. Why don’t you keep a respectable
distance from him until you know more about him?”
“That’s the point,
Howie. I don’t want to distance
myself.” Abi sniffed back some
tears. “I care about each of the Hickory
Pines residents, and Frank is no different.”
“You’re the one
with the heart for the elderly, Abi.” He
patter her hand gently. “I understand
your conflict. I’m just suggesting you
be patient with him. That’s all.”
“I just sense
hopelessness and loneliness.” Abi ran
her fingers through her hair. “I suppose
there’s no harm in keeping a ‘wait and see attitude’ and looking for signs from
him that I can approach him.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.” Howie stood up and glanced at Abi’s
plate. “Looks as if your English muffin
has gone stone cold while we were talking.
Let me toast you another one while you shower and get dressed for
work. I’ll put some extra love on this
one!”
As Abi stood up,
Howie drew her into his arms and hugged her.
“Thanks, my Honey Bear.” She
smiled up into his caring eyes. “Thanks
for listening to me.”
Abi showered and
dressed quickly; just as she finished, Howie shouted upstairs, “Your breakfast
is ready, my Darlin’.”
Abi hurried down
the stairs, pulled out a chair at the breakfast table, and blew Howie a kiss.
“Your muffin’s
toasted to perfection with a slight hint of apple butter.” Howie handed her a brown paper bag. “Here’s your lunch with a sweet surprise for
you later in the day.”
Before Abi sat
down, she hugged him and asked, “What’s in store for the resident architect
today?”
“Still preparin’
those site plans and floor plans for the new city hall. I’ll probably swing by Cooper’s office later
this afternoon with the revisions he wanted. I should spend some time studying
for the architectural exam on schematic design. What about you?”
“First thing on my
agenda is planning the monthly day trip for the Hickory Pines residents and . .
.”
The phone
rang. “Hello.” Howie answered the
phone. “Oh, hi, Granddaddy Dave . . .
yes, Abi’s here . . .Yes, sir, I certainly do.
I don’t know. You’ll have to ask
her. Wait just a second; let me put you
on speaker phone."
“This is your ol’
Granddaddy Dave here. Hadn’t talked with
you youngins since your weddin’ day.”
Granddaddy Dave’s voice cracked over the speaker. “Abi, is my grandson treatin’ you right? His dad and me we raised him right and
proper. Remember, yer kin now. So, ya need to tell me if he mistreats ya in
anyway, ya hear!” He gave a throaty
chuckle. “We Masons we takes care of our
kinfolk—no matter what.”
“Sure thing,
Granddaddy Dave.” She gave Howie a
grin. “Not to worry. Howie’s right respectful—most of the
time.” She threw a flirtatious glance in
Howie’s direction.
“Well, Annie and
me are plannin’ the Mason family Fourth of July barbeque and shindig. You youngins are coming ain’t cha?”
“Yes, Granddaddy,
we’ll be there.” Howie winked at Abi.
“Abi, we’re gonna
be doin’ some boot scootin’. You got
yerself a pair of cowboy boots, some jeans, and a western shirt, don’t cha?”
“Afraid not,
Granddaddy Dave. I suppose I can get me
some western clothes between now and then, though.”
“Tell ya
what. You give my Annie a call. She can fix ya right up with a pair of boots
that’d fit ya. Howie, ya taught yer
bride how to country western dance yet?”
“I can’t get her
to stop long enough to teach her how to dance.”
“That’s what you get for marryin’ an
independent city girl!” Granddaddy Dave
chuckled. “But she’s a looker. Gotta give you credit there, grandson.”
“Once she gets them boots, I’ll give her a few
lessons. Beside, Abi’s a quick learner
and light as a feather. She’ll be
scootin’ better than all of us and ‘makin’ them splinters fly’—you just wait ‘n
see.”
“No doubt,
grandson!” Granddaddy Dave paused. “Hope they’re treatin’ ya fair ‘n square at
yer new job, Abi. No need to give Annie
a call; I’ll tell her you’ll be swingin’ by this afternoon to try on some
boots. Well, suppose I’ll be hangin’ up
now so you youngins can get to work.
Jest one more thing. Ya know the
doc told me I ought not to be drivin’—my reflexes just ain’t what they used to
be. So when one of you drives through
downtown, would cha’ mind stoppin’ and buyin’ me some of my cigars at the smoke
shop? I’d be mighty grateful.”
“Sure thing,
Granddaddy; we’d be happy to run that errand for you. You’ll be needin’ some extra
smokes for the Fourth of July shindig.”
“Yer right,
grandson. Then I’ll be needin’ a pack of
50 of them Cuesta Rey cigars. ‘Preciate
it, grandson. Bye now.”
Howie turned to
Abi and rubbed his hand under his chin.
“Hmmm….Granddaddy Dave sure seems comfortable with you—like he’s
accepted you as family.”
“Well, he’s a
likable ol’ guy…like the grandfather I wish I’d had.”
“He’s downright protective of Grandma Annie
and doesn’t invite just anyone over to their house. Yet, he told you to ‘drop by and see his
Annie.’ That is huge!” Howie reached over and hugged Abi.
“Then I’ll definitely need to drop by and see
Grandma Annie this afternoon.”
“Yes, she’ll be expecting you for sure. You know, Darlin’, I believe she just might
have a pair of red boots that’ll fit you—perfect for a cowgirl like you!” He snickered.
“You be sure and ask her about them.”
“Red? Don’t you think red is a little flashy for
me?”
“Absolutely
not! Those boots are beautiful and
practically brand new—made from authentic alligator skin—a gift from Granddaddy
Dave last Christmas.”
“EEEW! Allegator skin! Are you serious?”
“Don’t worry,
Darlin’—they won’t bite you,” He spun her in a circle. “Honestly, those red boots are colorful and
classy—just like you.”
“Honey Bear, you certainly know how to sweep a
cowgirl off her feet!” Abi tossed her
hair, strutted around the kitchen, and pretended to primp. “So exactly where does a classy cowgirl like
me shop for a pair of western jeans and a western shirt?”
“I believe Grandma
Annie buys most of her western clothes at the town square in downtown
Parker.” He grabbed a sheet of paper
and drew Abi a map. “You can’t miss it;
it’s a huge store called Dusty’s Boot Barn and Western Wear; it’s right
here—just across the street from the smoke shop and art supply store.”
“Well, since I’m
only working this morning, I could stop in downtown Parker and try on those
western clothes. Would you like me to
stop at the smoke shop and pick up those cigars for Granddaddy Dave?”
“Sure thing, Darlin’. You’ll need to know what kind of cigars he
smokes.” Howie opened a kitchen drawer, riffled
through its contents, and retrieved a half-empty package of
Cuesta Rey cigars. He emptied the remaining cigars onto the
countertop and handed the package to Abi.
“Take this with you and give it to Hal at Smoke ‘n Ashes. He’ll fix you right up.”
“Howie, are those your cigars?”
“Yes, my Darlin’,
they are. I occasionally smoke one with
Granddaddy Dave. It’s a Mason men’s
family tradition of sorts.”
“You Masons are
full of little surprises.” Abi giggled. “I have a lot to learn about this family,
don’t I?”
“Afraid so,
Darlin’.” He grinned. “You know you’re a clever genie. He’ll never figure you out!”
“Whatever do you
mean?”
“You’ll score some major points with
Granddaddy Dave for buying his cigars and taking them to him this
afternoon. I know what you’re
thinkin’. You’ll get on his good side
then ask him about that old dilapidated ranch house near Dillehay
Crossing.”
Abi stood up and
reached for her sack lunch. “You saw
right through me, didn’t you? Time for
me to head to work.” Howie placed his
arm around Abi’s waist as he walked her to her car. They embraced and kissed. As Abi drove off, she lowered the car window,
“You want to meet me tonight at Granddaddy Dave’s? Maybe you two Mason men can share a smoke
while Annie and I try on boots.”
“It’s a date,
Darlin’. See you tonight!”
