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Jerrica stood in the middle of the room digging through her big purse, pawing through the contents. “I have a business card for someone who might help you with that picture,” Jerrica said.
Lost in thought as she stared at the painting, Echo jumped. Jerrica’s voice dropped her back into the world of the present with a thud. “Th-that would be fantastic,” she said, trying to catch her breath and return her heartbeat to normal. “I wouldn’t have the vaguest idea where to look for someone.”
“I knew if I dug deep enough in my old purse, I’d find this.” Jerrica held up a card and began reading it aloud. “Rand Halstead, professional art restorer and conservator.” She stopped, caught Echo with her gaze, then continued, “His momma lived thirty miles north of here on the family ranch until she died last year. A hometown boy, that one.”
Excitement fluttered through Echo’s veins. “Fantastic! I’ll go call right now. I wonder how long it will take to get him here?” She took the card from Jerrica’s outstretched hand.
“I’ve had this card for a while. I don’t know if his business is still at this same address, and if it is, I hope he shows up real soon. You have little time to get this place shaped-up for your openin’. Would be a real shame to have this paintin’ lookin’ like this,” she drawled, shaking her head.
“You’re right.” Echo gave the painting a parting glance as she turned her back to it. “Maybe he could add a little paint and cover their chests a bit.”
Jerrica nodded in agreement. “No need to go gettin’ your men borders all worked up with naked women greetin’ them on arrival.” Her tone turned suddenly serious. “This is gonna be a respectable place—isn’t it?”
“Of course it is! What makes you ask?” Echo had to swallow building laughter.
The lines on Jerrica’s face deepened as she frowned. She looked up at Echo and grinned sheepishly. “Y’know, many people in this town think this place...is haunted by those ladies that used to work here.”
“Haunted?” A niggling of doubt wormed its way through her mind. She’d heard strange sounds herself but hadn’t allowed herself to go there! Something about this conversation bothered her, but she couldn’t say just what it was. “I hadn’t heard those rumors. Who started them?”
“I—I think they’re true.”
Echo swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest of this conversation. “Well, I think you’d better tell me about your concerns. Are you worried about working here?” She drew the woman toward the brocade-covered chairs near the registration table.
Jerrica plopped down and covered her face with her hands. “A bit ago I thought I saw some women out in the old rose garden. I didn’t think much about it until I noticed I saw clean through ‘em!”
Easing down onto the other chair, Echo gave Jerrica time to compose herself. Her tale was incredible and caused Echo’s heart to race.
“Now, Jerrica, are you sure it wasn’t just an optical illusion of some sort?”
“No. As I watched, the colors blended kinda like a watercolor paintin’. The women moved about slowly in old-fashioned clothes. Then, poof! They were gone.” She shook her head, causing the twisted knot at the top of her head to wobble. “I’m goin’ to church tonight and pray I see nothing like that again. It’s devilish!”
“Thanks for telling me about this.” Echo reached out and covered Jerrica’s hand with her own. “It does sound strange, doesn’t it? Oh, now, don’t get me wrong,” she said when Jerrica opened her eyes wide in dismay, “I believe you. There was something going on out there or else you wouldn’t have seen it.”
Jerrica’s shoulders relaxed with a shrug under her red peasant blouse. “I feel better after tellin’ you this. Haven’t you seen anything l-like this while you’ve worked around here?”
Echo straightened, unwilling to admit her own suspicions. “I suppose I’ve been so busy I haven’t taken the time to really think about it.” Smiling, she stood. “You and Howard go on home for the evening. We’ll get started on those menus tomorrow. Go ahead and jot down some of your favorites.”
Jerrica’s face broke into a smile, sending lines from the corners of her eyes out to her hairline. “You’ll let me do that?”
“Sure, why not?” Echo’s eyebrows knitted together in question. “You’re the one in charge of the kitchen, and I want you happy with the menu selections. Won’t it be easier to come to work every day if you’re happy?”
“Well, yes, but no one’s ever let me do that before. I have some great recipes too. See you tomorrow mornin’!” Jerrica flew through the foyer and out the front door, her step as light as a teenager’s. She appeared to have forgotten all about ghosts.
~ * ~
A WEEK LATER, ECHO steered her car into the driveway that wound around The Yellow Bordello. Howard waved at her and stopped to wipe his sweaty brow with his sleeve. The new hotel sign moved back and forth in the early afternoon breeze. Heaps of dirt beside the postholes showed the sign hadn’t been set permanently into the ground.
The hotel radiated sunny warmth. The glistening ivory-yellow lap siding and milky-white trim gleamed radiantly out from behind the thick growth of cottonwood trees that surrounded the three sides of the large building. The renovations had transformed the crumbling hotel with its hideous peeling stucco and broken windows into a compelling hotel and restaurant.
All around the small town of Sage, neglected buildings had sprung back to life. For some people, it was a renewed interest in nostalgia, but for others, it was a matter of finances. It was less expensive to renovate old buildings than to build from scratch.
How can you handle the daunting responsibilities that go with operating a business this size? The negative words pealed through Echo’s mind. She could still hear her husband’s derogatory tone of voice asking the question she knew he’d ask if he had still been alive. She took a deep breath and shook off the old patterns. She was an exciting, capable woman and she wouldn’t let negative thoughts into her life. The sentence was her mantra.
Echo had married James Brennan within one month of their meeting. To say he’d swept her off her feet was an understatement. She had been young, with little experience with men. His bigger-than-life romance was one indicator of an abusive relationship, but she had no way of knowing that then. The marriage had begun well, but within two years, James showed himself to be a rich, ruthless executive, a heavy drinker...and a wife beater. He had emotionally assaulted her daily. She had believed James’ ugly words for years. You’re fat and ugly. Who’d want someone like you? You’re so lucky to have me. Stupid...stupid...
Now the words no longer rang through her head, nor did her own negative thoughts. Taking a cleansing breath, she thrust the belittling thoughts from her mind.
To think he’d wanted her to believe she couldn’t do anything without him. By damn, she had, and she was proud of it, too. She had overcome the abuse, the low self-esteem issues, making her success that much sweeter.
They had been married for eleven years. Eleven of the most miserable years she’d ever spent. Now he was dead. Although guilt speared her heart occasionally, she wasn’t sorry. Echo shook her head in amazement. She’d come so far.
Stopping the car at a gap in the elm hedge that marked the beginning of the stone walk leading to the kitchen entry, she flung open the door and stepped out into the summer sun.
“Let me help you get the groceries out of the car.” She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t seen Jerrica come up behind her.
Echo nodded but didn’t move as she admired the terrace. One of the first things she had done to the hotel was to clear the terrace so she could sit in the shade of the towering cottonwood trees after a long day. Her hard work had paid off in creating a beautiful spot for her customers to enjoy.
“It looks really nice out here,” Jerrica offered.
“Oh, thanks. It was a mess when I came here. I pruned that tall hedge a little but left it tall—my deliberate move to prevent any passersby from invading the guests’ privacy. The next thing I want is a pool, but that will take a lot more money than I have to work with this year.”
“I’ll move this table out of our way so we can get into the kitchen from here.” Jerrica, her ample frame conspicuous in the white apron, tried to muscle the glass-topped table out of the walking pattern but it wouldn’t budge.
“Why didn’t you get some of those attractive plastic tables and chairs? They wouldn’t be so heavy.” She grunted as she tried to push the table around.
“And they don’t stay put either.” Echo laughed as she opened the back car door. “I had some of those, but the wind tossed them around before depositing them across the street.” Grabbing a twenty-pound bag of potatoes, she headed for the kitchen door. “I’d forgotten furniture must be substantial in this atrocious Wyoming wind.”
Jerrica snatched an equally large sack of onions out of the car. “I suppose you’re right, but I thought this old building would have protected the patio from the wind.”
Pushing the kitchen door open with her hip, Echo recoiled as a draft of icy air swept across her bare arms and legs. The sensation, much like an Arctic Ocean wave crashing against the shore, jolted her senses. Goosebumps crawled across her skin. She would have sworn someone rushed through the kitchen just as she opened the door, but after looking around, she saw it was empty.
Recently, she’d begun seeing things. No...not really seeing, it was something else and difficult to understand. Had Jerrica’s thoughts about the haunting made her susceptible to the notion? The more she contemplated this, the more she realized it had started the first moment she’d stepped into the house.
Someone...something had been helping her with this project almost from the very beginning. She’d detect movement with her peripheral vision, yet, when she’d turn to look, there was no one there. Stranger than that, lately some rooms she started would be finished when she’d returned the next day to complete the job. Surely, the rooms couldn’t paint themselves. Instead of paint fumes, all she could smell was perfume!
Taking a deep breath, she rationalized her situation. Spirits, or whatever they were, had been helping her with the remodeling. Echo dropped the potatoes on the counter, leaning against it for support because her wobbling knees threatened to give way and pitch her to the ceramic tiled floor.
“Echo! Are you okay?” Jerrica cried, rushing to her side.
Embarrassed, Echo straightened, “I’m fine. I—I just twisted my ankle on the edge of the rug. It nearly upended me,” she said, smiling nervously. No matter how hard she tried, all the spooky thoughts kept creeping back. Maybe she’d become delusional. After all, she was dead tired from all this work. Thank God she was nearly done. The Yellow Bordello Bed and Breakfast and The County Seat restaurant would be open in just a few days. Echo’s dream would unfold.
“My goodness, Jerrica, we need to turn the air conditioning to a higher setting because it’s just too cold in here.”
Opening the pantry door, she pulled down a wire-wheeled cart from a hook on the wall. Her head swam from fatigue, but she shook it off.
Jerrica walked back outside with her. Before they reached the gate, Howard rushed up to them. “Mrs. Brennen, I’m finished with the bedding plants. Is there anything else you want done today?” Howard Chappel had retired from the military and, until he started the new position at The Yellow Bordello, had kept himself busy as a handyman around town. He was dressed for work in bib overalls and a faded red shirt. Echo smiled at his enthusiasm. Jerrica was at least fifteen years his junior, but the couple adored each other. Echo had seen the couple holding hands when they had arrived at the hotel earlier in the day.
Gazing toward the back of the property, Echo looked at what had once been a tangle of weeds. Now, it was filled with plants that would bloom later in the season, turning the area into a beautiful, cutting garden. Water trickled over rocks and fell into a beautiful little pool. The sound of the water relaxed her, calmed her edginess.
“I’ve had the water running over the rocks since before sun-up. That pump is working swell too. We’ll need to add more water as the hot sun evaporates it.”
“It all looks beautiful, Howard. It’s a direct result of your hard work. Thank you.” Echo touched his shoulder to emphasize the point.
“Well, I think it’s too bare, but you know perennials. They’ll fill in. You just wait until this time next year. The flowers will cover all the spaces with color.”
“It looks so much better already, Howard but I trust your judgment. If I’d done this on my own, and I assure you I wouldn’t have, it would have looked nothing like this.”
Jerrica snorted in protest. “Nonsense!” She pushed open the gate. “Bet you never thought you’d get this old hotel shaped up either, and now look at it. You don’t give yourself enough credit, young lady.”
Young lady indeed, she thought. With all this work, Echo felt every one of her thirty-five years. “Jerrica, I didn’t do it alone. I hired a contractor for the roof, the siding, and all the bathrooms.”
“Yes, but you hired the best one.”
Echo smiled. The special help she was getting from some invisible force helped as well.
The couple was becoming so dear to her. They filled a void in her heart. She missed her parents so much, but they had to stay on their farm in Eastern Nebraska. Pops would never retire and move back to Wyoming. He thought the brutal winters and the ever-present wind were hell on earth. He also thought her mad to take on this project.
Making her way into the office, her gaze swept over the dining area, taking in the large tables covered with sparkling white linen cloth. During the week, she planned to use dark blue tablecloths that matched the deep hue in the floral carpet.
An antique bar, built entirely of mahogany, sat near the front of the room opposite the registration desk. Everyone had told her that Sage was an unlikely candidate for such a spectacular business, but she knew it would survive, and well, too.
Just entering her office behind the bar area, Echo heard the distinctive peal of the doorbell as it reverberated through the ground floor of The Yellow Bordello. With a sigh, she turned and, crossing the oriental rugs spread on the gleaming wood floor, Echo strolled into the bright sunlight streaming in through the etched glass windows on either side of the front door.
She supposed she should let the customers walk in, but this was her home, too. The doorbell worked nicely. She opened the door.
“Yes?” Opening the door, she squinted to adjust her eyes to the glare. She saw nothing but a dark silhouette standing on her porch.
“Echo Brennen, please.” A deep, masculine voice rolled over her in lush waves.
Raising her hand to shade her eyes, she saw a large man. The shadow cast by the brim of his gaucho hat hid his eyes. A short, well-trimmed beard and mustache covered the lower half of his face. Long hair curled at the ends hung down below wide, muscular shoulders and fluttered in the breeze. A knot formed in the middle of her stomach when she finally made eye contact as he took off his hat and spoke to her.
She sucked in her breath and drew in a fragrance of musk, damp leaves and pure human male. Where had this erotic awareness come from? She had to snap out of it! Never had she reacted this way to a man, and a stranger at that. An insistent pounding began at the base of her throat, and she swallowed past the lump of nervousness.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but there wasn’t a sign to indicate if I should just enter, or ring the bell...”