“Sure, but where there were men searching for silver and gold, there were also prostitutes. I did read that Garretsville had bawdy houses.” Meredith glanced once again at the ghost who trailed behind them. “The town also had several businesses, a school, and a church. There were families living here.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I wish there was a way to communicate with ghosts. Not like on those TV shows where ghostbusters set up all kinds of electronic equipment to catch sounds and images, but to actually have a conversation. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Think of the stories the ghosts here could tell.” Oliver gushed. “I wonder how the one in the gift shop died?”
“I wonder about that too. A mining accident or an illness probably.” She’d just met the ghost most likely to have brought her here, and she hoped to help him into the light in the very near future. “I did read that those who did the drilling in preparation for blasting were paid the most because a driller’s life expectancy was only around six months. Some kind of toxic dust got into their lungs during the process.”
“Do you think ghosts know they’re dead?” Oliver asked
“Rarely,” she said. “That’s why they remain close to where they died, or close to a person, place, or a thing that meant a great deal to them. Sometimes spirits remain because they can’t let go of someone they’re attached to. The attachment can be due to a bond of love or from a long-held grudge. Not all spirits are like Casper the Friendly Ghost, you know. Some are malicious and filled with rage.”
She and her family had certainly experienced their share of working with both sorts. “For most spirits, it’s that lack of acceptance that they are no longer among the living that causes them to remain.”
“You seem to know a lot about the subject.” Oliver stopped walking and studied her. “Sounds to me like you’re as interested in ghostly encounters as I am.”
“You got me.” She laughed it off, hoping he’d view her interest similar to his, nothing more than morbid curiosity. “I’ll admit the haunted part of this venture did grab my interest, but mostly it’s the history. I’m hoping to write a book or at least an article. I have a master’s degree in American History, and I plan to begin my doctoral program soon.”
“Sure, sure,” he muttered. “We’d better catch up to the rest of the group. Ranger Jake is frowning and checking his watch again.”
“Agreed.” She and Oliver hurried to the saloon, the two story building was the largest in the settlement. According the article she’d found, Keoghan’s Saloon had morphed into ghost central for the once booming town of Garretsville.
“Sorry,” she said as she and Oliver reached the ranger. “We were caught up in a discussion about ghosts and the fact that Garretsville is haunted.”
The ranger rolled his eyes. “There are no such things as ghosts.”
Judy and her husband shared a knowing look as they all trudged into the saloon. The familiar tingle of awareness, pockets of cold, and indiscernible whispers hit Meredith at once. She followed the others toward the polished brass-rail and wood bar. Curious, she glanced at Oliver. He visibly shivered and rubbed his arms, and his gaze darted around the interior of the saloon, his eyes wide.
This was definitely the main hangout for the Garretsville ghosties. Though goose bumps skittered across the back of her neck and along her forearms, none of the spectral beings attempted to show themselves. She’d have to come back by herself to coax them into showing themselves—preferably after her cabinmates were safely tucked into their beds and sound asleep.
Ranger Jake went over the history of the saloon and pointed out items of interest to share with tourists. Like the bullet holes in one of the walls, a remnant of a gunfight over one of the ladies of the night. Then he led them to the door.
“The next building we’re visiting is the assayer’s office. Prospectors would bring their silver ore here to be graded through a process called titration. Gold and garnets were also mined in the area, but not so much when this town was at its zenith. Garretsville’s one bank is conveniently situated right next door, and it’s the only building to have been constructed with native stone rather than pine. You can read more about the role of assayers in your packets.”
They stopped at a few residential cabins, the general store, the church, and a one-room schoolhouse. After the ranger completed the orientation, he took off. The Schultes went on a hike, and Oliver volunteered to walk through the tour one more time on his own, locking up each of the sites as he went. Meredith headed back to the cabin to unpack.
Her small bedroom held two twin beds, a worn-out braided rug, two mismatched dressers, and a narrow closet with a curtain instead of a door. She hoisted her duffel bag onto the bed closest to the only window and began to unpack.
Just as she placed a pile of folded clothing into one of the dressers, the temperature in the room dropped, and she got a nasty, prickly feeling all over. Meredith straightened. “This is my private space. As long as I’m here, I expect my room to remain free of hauntings,” she said, her tone firm.
Jeering laughter from more than one spirit echoed inside her head. Dread slithered down her spine, and her stomach turned. These ghosts were not the innocuous kind. She detected the presence of three malevolent entities. “You are unwelcome here,” she said, a surge of adrenaline pounding out a warning.
“You are … familiar to us. We ... don’t want … you here.” The words hissed through her mind, followed by an oppressive wave of rage.
What did they mean by familiar? Adrenaline surged again
