Ghost Town (15 page)

“A search party?” Isabel asked as concern welled up inside of her.

The clerk patted Isabel comfortingly on the shoulder. “Don't worry, sweetie! I'm sure they're fine. No need to be concerned. They've obviously found shelter, and they'll be rescued when the roads are clear. Now, what are you girls doing this morning?”

“We're going to watch Nik and Sam's concert rehearsal,” Katani told her.

“That sounds like great fun. Have a good time and try not to worry about your friends. Do you need anything?” the clerk asked warmly.

“No, thank you,” Katani said, standing up straight and tall. “We'll be fine . . . right, Isabel?”

Isabel nodded. She just crossed her fingers and hoped with all her might that the others were fine, too.

Just as they turned away from the front desk, Katani's cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID and flipped it open to talk to her mother.

“How are things in the Wild Wild West?” Mrs. Summers asked in a cheery tone.

“Uh, fine,” Katani answered. She wasn't sure how to inform her mother that things were anything but fine.

“What's wrong, sweetie?” Mrs. Summers immediately sensed that something was amiss.

“Nothing is wrong. I mean,
I'm
fine,” Katani stammered. Hearing her mother's voice made tears spring to Katani's eyes. She took a deep breath.

“Mr. Ramsey called and told you I'd be riding to the resort with Nik and Sam, right?”

“Yes. You're okay, Katani, aren't you?” Mrs. Summers asked, sounding very concerned.

“Well, Isabel and I are fine. We're at Big Sky with Nik and Sam. But there was a huge snowstorm—a blizzard, really—and Mr. Ramsey and the other girls are . . .”

“Are what?”

“They're missing. They never made it to the resort last night,” Katani told her mother. “We just heard from the front desk that they're safe, but stuck somewhere.”

“So you're there ALONE?” Mrs. Summers asked.

“No. Nik and Sam's parents are here and they're making sure we're okay. We had a sleepover in their suite last night and now we're going to watch their rehearsal.”

“You and Isabel stick together, Katani. Make sure to keep me posted,” Mrs. Summers said.

“I will, Mom. We'll be okay . . . really. Talk to you later.” Katani flipped the phone shut. “All right,” she said,
turning to Isabel. “Let's go.” She wondered if Avery and Maeve's parents knew they were missing.

Isabel and Katani could hear the music through the doors of the Missouri Ballroom. The security guard opened the door when he saw them as if he were expecting them . . . almost as if they were VIPs!

The twins were in the middle of “Every Little Step,” a nice, slow ballad that Nik was belting out in her sweet, sad voice. Their dad was playing an acoustic bass. “Hold up! Hold on a second!” he called.

“The drum part isn't quite right,” he explained. “You girls want to take a break while we work this out?”

Nik and Sam jumped down from the stage and made a beeline for Isabel and Katani.

“Hey, Katani, Iz! Thanks for coming,” Sam said. “We need to decide what to wear to the concert!”

“Let Katani help,” Isabel offered.

“Really?” Nik asked as she turned toward Katani. The twins had commented to each other how fashionable Katani always looked. “You'd do that?”

“We were
hoping
we could get some free advice from a future famous designer,” Sam said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Don't worry, girls. I'm on it,” Katani said. “What's my budget?”

“Our dad usually says, ‘Just don't break the bank,'” Nik said.

As soon as the girls returned to the stage, Katani and
Isabel dashed off to the resort boutique. They were on a fashion mission.

Katani surveyed the store and finally picked up two cropped equestrian jackets in midnight blue velvet and two silky white shirts to go underneath.

“Perfect,” Isabel said with approval. “Nice job, Kgirl.”

Excited about their purchases, they ran back to the greenroom to show Nik and Sam.

The twins were just taking another break from their rehearsal as Katani and Isabel returned.

“Check it out. I think this look is perfect for you. The equestrian jackets are western and romantic at the same time. And these shirts are just right—they'll even shimmer a little under the lights. Try everything on, and then I'll show you the final touch,” Katani urged.

“These jackets are
amazing
,” Nik said, twirling around.

“How did you know they would fit?” Sam wondered.

“Please, I'm a professional,” Katani said, rolling her eyes with a casual shrug.

“So what's the last touch?” Nik asked.

“Ta-da!” Katani announced, holding up two of her colorful scarves. “The outfits are great, but they need a dash of color to take them to the next level. Here's a lime green scarf for you, Sam, and a purple one for you, Nik. Wear them as low-slung belts on your jeans. Here, Isabel, help me thread them through the loops.” Katani tied the scarves expertly for the twins and stood back to admire her fashion makeovers.

“How did you know these are our favorite colors?” Sam wondered.

“Last night you said that your bedroom was lime green, Sam, and Nik told me she loved everything purple. Remember?” Katani asked.

“Girls!” Nik and Sam's mom called from the stage.

“Wait till they see us!” Nik squealed.

“Katani, you're a miracle worker!” Sam gave Katani an exuberant hug.

“Break a leg,” Katani called after the twins as they dashed back onstage.

Katani and Isabel watched the rest of the rehearsal from the wings.

“Oh, I
love
this song!” Isabel exclaimed as they started their last number, “Every Little Step.” “It makes me think of my dad.”

Isabel started singing the lyrics softly from the wing. “There's a little girl with a barrette in her hair bouncing on daddy's knee . . .”

Sam saw Isabel singing along and motioned for her to join them onstage.

Isabel shook her head no, but Katani gave her a little shove, and she reluctantly walked out into the lights.

Once she was up there, Isabel inched over to center stage. “Here, you can share my microphone,” Sam said as she pulled Isabel closer.

The twins continued singing. Isabel started to join in softly, but eventually she lost her self-consciousness and really let it out. She was singing with all her might. “Daddy asked his little girl to dance with him one last time . . .” Isabel couldn't believe how good it felt to let go and sing her heart out.

“I'm beginning to wish I never heard the word ‘adventure,'” Maeve complained as the stranded group tried to decide what they were going to eat for dinner, huddled around the fireplace at the Hotel de Paris. “Beans were an adventure last night, but tonight they're BORING!”

“At least we have something to eat,” Lissie pointed out. “If the Mountain Rover had broken down ten miles up the road, we'd be very hungry by now. I think we'd be getting by on Swedish Fish and trail mix.”

“Lissie's right. We're lucky to have a roof over our heads, a fire to keep us warm, and something to put in our stomachs, even if it's just beans,” Mr. Ramsey said.

“How far from town did you walk this afternoon, Dad?” Charlotte asked. Mr. Ramsey had gone on an expedition to see if there was any sign of a rescue team.

“Not far,” Mr. Ramsey admitted. “At the edge of town the drifts were so high! Over my head, even. I have no idea how long it will take them to clear the road and discover the Mountain Rover.”

“Don't worry,” Lissie said, patting Mr. Ramsey's back. “Montana is used to this kind of weather. They have to clear the highways first. And they know we're missing now. I'm sure that someone—the state police, probably— has a search party out looking for us. We'll be rescued before we know it.”

Mr. Ramsey didn't say anything but smiled gratefully at Lissie. He was getting a little tired of their ghost town adventure as well.

Charlotte picked up the poker and pushed around
the logs on the fire. The flames crackled and hissed at her. Charlotte couldn't even look at Maeve and Avery. The girls had been making faces at each other since yesterday. She knew they were convinced that her father had a crush on Lissie. Charlotte poked at a big log, which rolled over the top of a smaller log and broke it with a loud crack. The embers glowed and winked beneath the log.

Well, they're wrong
, Charlotte thought. Dad is just tired and worried. That's all. He's not interested in Lissie. She just isn't his type. Charlotte wasn't sure what type was her father's, but she knew it was definitely not Lissie.

“I can't believe it! It's dark already,” Avery said, looking out the window. “It's like we didn't have a real day at all.”

The afternoon had turned dark and dreary and even though it was only four in the afternoon, it seemed like it was midnight.

“This place is really creepy.” Maeve shivered.

“I think it's cool,” Charlotte countered. “Dry Gulch is like this abandoned piece of history.”

“Come on, Char, get real. This town doesn't seem all that abandoned,” Avery said.

“We saw those flickering lights in the boardinghouse,” Maeve reminded Charlotte.

“And don't forget that piano,” Avery added. “It just randomly started playing.”

“That was a player piano, Avery,” Charlotte said. “It's supposed to play music like that.”

“Yeah, but they usually don't start and stop all by themselves,” Avery pointed out.

“Doors opening . . .” Maeve said ominously.

“And slamming shut,” Avery continued.

“And don't forget getting locked in the jail cell!” Maeve cried.

“How could I forget? You took enough pictures to fill up a whole photo album!” Charlotte exclaimed.

“Yeah, I did,” Maeve giggled to herself. “I can't wait to see how they turn out.”

“Maeve's right, Char!” Avery said. “This place is creepy. It's almost as if someone is trying to scare us off.”

“There IS someone trying to scare us off,” Maeve asserted confidently.

“Who?” Charlotte asked.

“Hello! Charlotte, I told you about the ghost.”

Charlotte gave Maeve a skeptical look.

“Charlotte, there IS a ghost in this town and I SAW him,” Maeve insisted.

“Yes, you did,” said a grave voice.

The girls screamed and huddled together.

Mr. Ramsey grabbed the poker and jumped up.

Slow, steady footsteps moved across the floor from the back of the room. Out of the darkness, a looming figure appeared and stood behind the couch. The figure was a tall, grizzled old man in a cowboy hat. Maeve's eyes widened as she realized that the ghost from the night before was standing right before their very eyes.

Tonight, instead of the long coat, he was wearing a wide, green poncho. He was also carrying a rifle, which he held across his chest, the long black muzzle pointing toward the ceiling.

“It's Maeve's ghost!” Avery gasped.

“Just as you described him,” Charlotte murmured.

“I told you it was true. I told you!” Maeve cried.

The ghost put up a hand in a calming gesture, letting the rifle hang loosely at his side. “I mean you no trouble,” the man said in a deep, gravelly voice.

“Then put the rifle down,” Mr. Ramsey commanded, adjusting his grip on the poker.

The old man nodded and leaned down to place the rifle on the floor. “It ain't loaded right now, anyhow,” he said.

“I have heard that before,” Mr. Ramsey said dryly. For a moment the air was silent but heavy with expectation. Charlotte couldn't breathe. Had she finally gotten her wish? Was she really and truly seeing a ghost?

“Didn't mean to scare you none,” the man repeated. “Ain't used to visitors, is all. Most people don't bother to stop in Dry Gulch anymore.”

“You mean you
live
here?” Lissie asked tentatively.

The man nodded. “Lived here since I came back from the war. The Second World War, that is. Lived here before the war, too. But when I came back in forty-five, Dry Gulch was deserted. Pretty much like it is today. Everyone left after the mining accident of forty-four.”

“Please, sir,” Mr. Ramsey gestured. “Have a seat by the fire and warm up.”

The old man moved from behind the couch and sat down in the wingback chair by the fire. Charlotte couldn't help but draw back as he walked toward the BSG huddle. Despite his insistence that he wasn't there to cause any
harm, there was something menacing about his appearance. And it didn't help that a scowl seemed to be permanently etched on his face.

Once he sat down, the group let out a collective sigh of relief. Sitting there in the chair, the old cowboy looked more like a real person and less like a ghostly apparition.

It was quiet for a long while, with only the crackling fire filling in the silence.

“Why do you stay in this abandoned place all by yourself?” Mr. Ramsey finally asked.

“I got my reasons,” the gruff man replied.

“Were you the one slamming doors and blinking lights and starting the player piano?” Lissie asked, sitting forward in her chair to face the old man on the other side of the fireplace.

The man didn't reply but instead stared across at Lissie, apparently fascinated by her appearance.

“We're obviously stranded, and to purposely scare us, especially when we have young girls in our group, is just . . . just plain MEAN,” Lissie scolded.

The man did not respond but continued to stare intently at Lissie.

“What are you looking at?” Lissie demanded as she sat back in her seat.