Page 28 of The Haunting of the Mountain

“Need to stop thanking me, Kyla. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you.”

It might be the chilly air. Could be my imagination. But I can’t help but notice Kyla’s red cheeks deepen in color.

“I’m not lying,” I say, pushing off from the tree. “I’ve kicked plenty of my nephew’s friends out of my cabin over the years. You’re the first one I’ve wanted…” I swallow hard. A single word reverberating in my head.Keep, keep, keep.“The first one I’ve wanted to stay.”

“I guess I should be honored.”

No, sweet girl. You should be mine.

“No,” I say, the words catching in my throat as I stare at her. Angelic. Gorgeous. So fucking beautiful. It’s painful looking at her because my time left with her is growing smaller every second that passes. I won’t have the privilege to look at her. The honor.

“Well, I’m glad you agreed to help me. And I promise, I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

That’s the last thing I want. I want you in my hair. Tangled. Entwined. In the thick of it with no way to escape. I want you. I… fuck me. I sigh because all I’m doing is torturing myself.

“One last question and we can head out. Do you still want to see the lumber mill? I guess we can head to the grist mill if that would be less of a hike.”

“We can do both,” I say. “I don’t mind.”

Kyla smiles and it lights my body up. Can’t get enough of that smile.

“Okay,” she says, game face back on as she turns back around and heads toward the grave. She places her hand on the gravestone and says, “Show yourself, Vernon.”

Her voice is forceful. There’s an edge to it that I’ve never heard before. And my arms prickle with goosebumps.

“You’ve done it once, and I want you to do it again. Vernon, SHOW YOURSELF TO ME.”

She pauses for a few moments before turning back to me with a deep sigh. “Worth a try,” she says. “I know you’re not supposed to antagonize spirits but—OHMYGOD!”she screeches, pointing over my shoulder as the color drains from her face again.

“Howdy,” a man says from behind me as I turn. “Lookin’ fer ghosts?”

He’s standing in front of the large, scraggly oak. The kind of tree that’s been around about as long as the town. And from the look of the guy, I think he might be just as old. He’s scraggly and slender, and the coveralls seem to be wearing him and not the other way around. With a hook nose, sallow cheeks, pale complexion, and hair like gray, clumped spaghetti, I’m beginning to understand why Kyla was so shaken earlier.

I position myself in front of Kyla as I square my body to him, my chest rising and falling rapidly as adrenaline races through me.

“Easy,” the man says. “Didn’t mean no harm. Been listenin’ to you up there.” He jerks his head to the side, gesturing to the tree. “Interesting stuff, ghost huntin’.”

Kyla pops her head out from behind me. “Did you give me this?” She waves the book.

“‘Course I did.”

“How did you know I needed it?”

He sucks at his teeth and then takes a step forward, but then I do too. He stops, raising his hand in front of him.

“I come to the library during downtime. Heard you talkin’ at the counter. Knew there was a spare copy in the basement.”

“So you’re not Vernon the dead janitor.”

He laughs but even his laugh is unsettling. “Vernon the groundskeeper. I knew ‘em. Sad story.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Kyla whispers.

I don’t respond, I react, grabbing her by the hand and heading back the way we came.

“Good luck,” the groundskeeper shouts at us. “And be careful. The great harvest is comin’.”

When we finally make it out, Kyla asks me, “What the hell is he talking about?”

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