Authors: Catherine Anderson
L
oni Kendra MacEwen could barely contain her excitement. The two-bedroom house was small and dated, but she saw it with the eye of an interior decorator, and there were possibilities everywhere she looked. She moved slowly through the rooms, envisioning white priscilla curtains at the windows, a diamond-hard polyurethane wax on the worn hardwood floors, bright pillows and throws on the overstuffed sofa and chairs, and designer shades of paint on the walls. She could also imagine a cheerful blaze in the brick fireplace, with her huge yellow dog, Hannah, snoozing before the hearth.
Normally Loni never would have considered renting an old house, much less a furnished one, but something about this neglected bungalow appealed to her. Maybe it was the charming bay windows, the built-in bookcases at each side of the fireplace, or the old-fashioned archways trimmed in burnished oak, but she was more inclined to think it was the essence of the house itself; a warm, peaceful feeling had enveloped her the moment she stepped inside.
Smiling at her good fortune, she went to stand at the kitchen sink to gaze out the window at the large backyard enclosed by a sturdy, six-foot cedar fence. There was even an oversized dog door that opened into the attached garage. While Loni was at her shop, Hannah would have shelter from the weather, an important feature in the high-desert community of Crystal Falls, Oregon, where the winters could be long and harsh.
The sudden chirp of her cell phone made Loni jump. Expecting a call from her older sister, she hurried to the mahogany dining table and plucked the device from her purse. Bypassing hello, she answered with, “You'll never guess what.”
Deirdre, a second grade teacher at Roosevelt Elementary a few blocks away, laughed and said, “You got the house!”
Sinking onto a ladder-backed chair, Loni pushed a curly tendril of dark brown hair from her eyes. “It was love at first sight. I just signed a one-year lease. I'm so happy I want to shout.”
“Oh, Loni, what wonderful news! I was starting to think you'd never find a place that would take Hannah.”
Having an eleven-month-old Fila Brasileiro mastiff that weighed nearly two hundred pounds did come with its own set of problems. Loni couldn't count the lease applications she'd filled out over the last two months that had been denied.
“I got lucky,” she told her sister. “The man who owns the place lives in Portland, and he's had some bad experiences with property management companies.”
“So he was motivated to lease the house without involving a third party?”
“Exactly. He never even blinked when I mentioned Hannah.”
“What about when the place needs repairs? It's a long drive from Portland for him to fix a leaky faucet.”
“If something goes wrong, he gave me permission to call a handyman, deduct the cost from my rent, and just send him the receipt.”
“That works.” Deirdre sighed. “I'm delighted for you, absolutely delighted.”
Loni grinned. “Don't sound
too
enthusiastic, or I'll think you're glad to be rid of me.”
“Ha. I've loved having you, and so has Michael. You know that. Can I come see the house? The boys have Kids' Club until four o'clock, and I was planning to go grocery shopping, but the heck with that. What's the address?”
Smiling happily, Loni grabbed the lease agreement and read off the information.
“Oak Street?” A note of alarm crept into Deirdre's voice. “Isn't that in an older section of town?”
Loni knew what was coming and ignored the question. “It's perfect for me and Hannah, Deirdre. Just wait until you see it. Very quaint, with darling bay windows, beautiful oak trim, and a fenced-in yard. There's even a dog door opening into the garage.”
“Quaint?” Deirdre echoed. “Quaint as in old?”
“Yes, fairly old,” Loni finally confessed. “I'm guessing it was built sometime in the forties.”
“Oh,
Loni
, what on earth were you thinking? You'll never be happy in an old house. You'll have psychometric divinations bombarding you left and right.”
It never ceased to amaze Loni that her sister, the only nonclairvoyant female in the MacEwen family, knew so many paranormal buzzwords. “Psycho
what
?”
“Psychometric divination. That's the appropriate term for the phenomenon that sometimes occurs when you touch things.”
“What's wrong with just calling it a nasty jolt?”
“Nothing except that it's boring.”
“Boring suits me fine. I swear, if I had a deformed toe you'd call it a lower-digit deviation.”
“Don't compare your gift to a deformity.”
“Why not?” Loni's
gift
, as members of her family persisted in calling it, had adversely affected her entire life. As a child she'd had to be tutored at home. As a young adult, she'd been unable to hold down a job or attend college. Even now, when she was thirty-one, her social life was next to nonexistent. She rarely dated, she felt like a pariah at church, and as icing on the cake, she was forced to keep other decorators on the payroll so she could focus only on new construction. “It feels like a deformity.”
With an ease born of long practice, Loni pushed away the negative thoughts and walked slowly to the living room, barely hearing her sister, who chattered in that shrill, nonstop way of hers when she got upset.
“Back to the house,” Loni cut in, giving the small living room an appreciative look. It was going to be so lovely when she finished fixing it up. “I understand your concerns and know it would be best to rent a brand-new place. Unfortunately they don't grow on trees, and my applications for the few I found were turned down because of Hannah. Now I'm glad they were. I've done a complete walk-through here and touched practically everythingâcupboards, door-knobs, windowsills, faucets, and even all the furniture. I've picked up nothing unpleasant. Not every surface affects me, you know. It mostly happens only when I touch a person or the possession of someone who's been through something terrible and needs help, or soon will go through something terrible and needs help.”
“The house is
furnished
?”
“I sold practically everything before I left Washington, hoping to buy new. Now I can wait to worry about furniture later.”
“Oh, Loni.” Deirdre's voice went even shriller. “What'll you do if you start having problems and can't break the lease?”
“Live with you, I guess.” Loni laughed. Trailing a hand over the back of the sofa, she said, “Would you stop, Deirdre? I'm a big girl. If I'd thought for a moment I might have problems here, I never would have rented the place.”
“It still worries me.”
“Well, stop worrying. It's a friendly little house. Have you ever walked through a door and felt instantly at home?”
“Yes,” Deirdre replied, beginning to sound calmer. “When Michael and I were looking to buy, that's exactly how we felt when we finally found our house.”
“Well, that's the feeling I got here. It's just right somehow. I can't wait to start decorating. I'm thinking of sage green here in the living room, with a darker shade on the fireplace wall to accentuate the brick and oak. It's going to be a dollhouse when I'm finished with it.”
“I'm sure it will be,” Deirdre conceded. “You're a professional decorator, after all. And a one-year lease will be perfect, too. That'll give you time to get your shop on its feet and make sure you like living in Crystal Falls before you buy a place of your own.”
Loni pirouetted slowly to take in the room again. “I know it's premature, but I'm no longer quite so worried about liking it here. All the snow was my biggest concern, but now that I've found this house I can cross that worry off my list. The driveway and front walk are pretty short. I'll be able to clear them in no time. I'm actually excited. Isn't that great?”
“It's fabulous.” Deirdre released a taut breath. “I'm sorry for going on and on at you. I just want you to be happy, is all.”
“I know that, and I honestly think I will be here. It's such a cute little place. Nice solid doors, too, inside and out. Once I get some dead bolts and a security system installed, I'll feel safe as a baby in its mother's arms.”
“We need to celebrate somehow,” Deirdre suggested, clearly trying to show the enthusiasm she had failed to at first. “How about a special dinner tonight?”
“That'd be nice.” Loni glanced at her watch. “And since you worked all day, I'll do the cooking. How does beef bourguignonne with hot homemade biscuits sound? Gram's recipe only takes about three hours. I'll stop at a store on the way over to pick up everything I'll need. We can feed the boys hot dogs, get them into bed, and have a grown-up night.”
“Beef bourguignonne? Yum. I haven't had that in ages. I'll call Michael and ask him to pick up a nice burgundy from the wine shop. Is there any kind you especially like?”
Loni was about to answer when a bright flash of light suddenly blinded her. The next instant she saw a jet-haired cowboy standing before the fireplace hearth, his booted feet planted wide apart, his work-roughened hands resting on his narrow hips. The shadow cast by the brim of his chocolate-colored Stetson did little to diminish the burning intensity in his dark brown eyes.
“Loni?” Deirdre's voice seemed to come from a great distance. “Loni, are you still there?”
Loni tried to speak, but her throat felt paralyzed. She finally managed a faint whisper. “Oh, God, Dee, it's him.”
“Who?” Deirdre demanded.
Loni could barely hear her sister now. It was like being trapped in a snow globe. She was in the same small living room, but it was different now, exactly how she'd imagined it would look in a few weeks when she finished decorating. A designer shade of sage green covered the walls, and colorful rugs graced the gleaming hardwood floors. An awful dizziness set her head to spinning, and for a moment she thought she might faint.
Then her senses suddenly cleared, and the room came into sharper focus. The cowboy still stood before her. Under the blue shirt his shoulder muscles were bunched with tension. Loni could feel a cool breeze coming through an open window, and the scent of freshly cut grass wafted to her nostrils. Down the street somewhere, a dog was barking, and its owner yelled for it to be quiet.
She heard herself say, “That's an absolutely preposterous suggestion.”
She started to turn away, but the cowboy clamped a hard hand over her arm.
“Look, lady,” he said in a deep voice that curled around her like hot wisps of smoke. “I'm no happier about this mess than you are. All this hocus-pocus stuff gives me the willies. I'll also remind you that you're the one who sought me out, not the other way around.”
Loni jerked her arm free of his grasp. “If I give you the willies, why are you even here?”
“That's a damned good question.”
The vision evaporated as quickly as it came. An icy chill had raised goose bumps on Loni's skin, and she was shaking violently. The awful dizziness assailed her again, and she dropped onto the sofa, too stunned to remain standing.
“Loni!”
Deirdre's voice still sounded far away. Struggling to focus, Loni finally spotted the cell phone lying on the hardwood floor where she must have dropped it. With a trembling hand she scooped up the device and pressed it to her ear.
“I'm okay,” she managed to croak, even though her head was still whirling.
“You scared me half to death. What happened? Did you fall or something? I heard a loud crash.”
“I, um, dropped the phone.” Loni swallowed to steady her voice. “It was him, Deirdre.” Loni had been seeing the cowboy in her dreams practically all her life, but this was the first time she'd ever seen him in a waking vision. “My dream cowboy. It was my dream cowboy.”
“What?”
Deirdre asked incredulously. “Where did you see him? Does he live next door or something?”
“No, no.” Another wave of nausea made Loni's stomach pitch. “I didn't actually
see
him. Not in the flesh, anyway.” In the MacEwen family it went without saying what Loni meant by that. “He was standing in front of the fireplaceâ” Loni broke off and swallowed hard again. “He touched me, Dee. That's never happened before, not
ever
.”
“You don't sound so good.”
“I'm dizzy and sick to my stomach. He crossed over somehow.”
“Crossed over? I'm not following.”
“He was
real.
” Loni heard the hysteria in her voice and struggled to calm down. “Not just a vision, but real. I actually
felt
his hand on my arm.”
“I'll be right there,” Deirdre said. “Sit down and don't move until I get there.”
Loni had no trouble complying with her sister's orders. Still filmed with cold sweat, her body quivered with weakness, and every time she opened her eyes the room spun.