In the Manor of the Ghost

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It's the 1870's. The Civil War has long since been fought and laid to rest, settlers are still joining the wagon trains and heading west to the New Eden. The land is changing. But those who dwell in Clayborne Manor seem trapped in time.

Trapped amid the whispers of failure and sorrow, whispers of longing and defeat. Kaitlin hears them clearly at night. But who haunts Clayborne Manor? The ghost that restlessly walks the halls in the night? Or the ones that plague the minds and spirits of those residing there? Though not inclined to believe the dead can walk the night laden corridors, Kaitlin can see them clearly in the eyes of her husband Devlin, and hear them in the deafening silence of her son, Derrick.

Does she have the courage to search the past and face the ghosts? Does she have the faith to stay and direct all those who dwell In the Manor of the Ghost to the one who sets the captive free?

Enjoy this Excerpt

     Kaitlin hid behind her menu, her shroud, trying to catch her breath. All she wanted to do was stare at her husband. But her face was heated, so she studied her menu and fought to keep her eyes from wandering to Devlin. When she could read no more she turned her attention to Derrick and was struck by the similarities between father and son.

     Derrick would be a lady-killer when he grew up, Kaitlin was certain. All one had to do was look at his father to know. And Kaitlin eyes, lord help them, were intent on looking.

     Her heart thundered in her chest when she realized he looked back.

     Kaitlin was never so happy to see anyone as she was to see Tilly, their waitress for the evening. It gave her an excuse to tear her eyes away from Devlin, and the girl looked so much better. Kaitlin felt the tears well in her eyes.

     Devlin studied the girl then met his wife's gaze. "Those look familiar?" he said of the clothes Tilly wore.

     "They were in the trunk. Maybe they're your mother's."

     He nodded slowly as if he recalled the gown. Then he turned his attention to Tilly. "Good evening, Tilly," he said with a soft grin. "I'm glad to see you're up and about."

     Kaitlin was warmed by his words.
"Sir, thank you, sir." Tilly curtsied and turned beet red.
Kaitlin covered her grin. She knew exactly how Tilly felt under Devlin's gaze. He would be the topic of conversation in the kitchen once Tilly was able to get back and tell Louisa. Perhaps that explained her stammering when she tried to take their order?

     Kaitlin thought to remind Tilly that it was easier to write when one looked at the paper, but she had her own problems. How did she order, even speak, with Devlin there?

     Did the man know what a hazard he was?

     Kaitlin took a deep breath and made her order.

     Devlin laughed. "You're right, your German is atrocious," he replied after hearing her annihilate the language. "Why don't I order?" he suggested then proceeded to do so with such flawless diction, Kaitlin wondered if he'd been talking German since birth.

     "Why, Mr. Clayborne, you are a man of mystery."

     Too many mysteries.

     "Is that good or bad?" He winked.

     "I'd say it's good," she said then turned to study the room so she wouldn't have to look in those deep dark and very beautiful eyes.

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