Forced to the Altar. Susan Crosby

and Belle came to a stop. Zach talked to them as people often talk to dogs, some words, some nonsense, his tone encouraging.

      You would make a good father. The words lit up in her mind, their truth accepted instantly. She’d never thought that about anyone else. Well, maybe Jamey, but no man who’d interested her romantically. Zach parented his dogs with affection and discipline, like a good father would.

      She almost groaned. Like she needed something else to like about him.

      “Ready to go back?” he asked.

      No, but it was probably wise to do so. “Sure. Thank you for bringing me. It’s amazing.”

      He hopped down the ledge, landing with a quiet thud. “Sit down. You can slide a little, then I’ll catch you.”

      Dirt clods loosened beneath her rear as she slid, her toes seeking a landing. His hands slid under her arms, slowing her descent. Distracted by his touch, she was barely aware when she hit ground. Her jacket was down-filled, warm but not too thick. Her breasts were too substantial for him to avoid touching their sides with his arms.

      He didn’t let her go.

      After a few seconds, she lifted her face and locked gazes. His hands didn’t move, yet she felt touched all over. Her nipples drew tight. She went up on tiptoe.

      He jerked his head back. “This is a bad idea,” he said, stepping away.

      “Oh, yeah. Right. Bad. Definitely bad.” She brushed the seat of her pants, looking at the ground, knowing her face would be flushed. “I was just…Well, anyway.”

      He walked away.

      She followed. They hiked in silence. He didn’t hurry, so she had no trouble keeping up, although she wished she’d brought a flashlight. Without him holding her hand, she felt unstable and unsure. She would have to come back on her own in the daylight and get accustomed to the land. She didn’t like not being in control, had only recently felt as if she’d finally found her direction in life. This was not a good way to keep moving forward.

      They reached the castle.

      “Are you going to watch television?” he asked.

      “What time is it?”

      “Nine.”

      “Yes. For a while. How about you?”

      “I’m going to work.” He walked ahead of her until they reached the media room. “I’ll see you in the morning, Julianne. I’m glad we finally met.”

      Had that been just a few hours ago? “Thanks again.”

      “Sure.”

      “Oh, Zach. Just one question?”

      He cocked his head.

      “I’m curious why Elspeth’s room is locked. My impression is that ghosts can vaporize and travel wherever they want to.” She worked hard to keep innocence in her voice.

      “Elspeth prefers it.”

      “She said so?” Julianne asked, but he just slid his key in the lock then disappeared into his hidey-hole. She smiled. There was no ghost. He liked to perpetuate a myth, when convenient.

      She slid a DVD into the player, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, and settled in. She listened for Zach, but he didn’t emerge by the time the movie ended and she returned the movie to its box. She considered the exquisite black-and-white film an incredible romance, even though the fiery, sea-captain ghost and the beautiful widow Mrs. Muir couldn’t touch or kiss. The seaside house and ocean made Julianne feel even more connected to the film.

      In a thoughtful mood, she turned off the television to go to her room. A slight sound stopped her. She stood still, listened hard. Footsteps from above, near—or from—Elspeth’s tower room.

      “Ridiculous,” Julianne muttered. “It’s two floors up.”

      Something heavy fell to the floor, the sound muted as if by a rug. Silence again.

      Julianne waited a few seconds then hurried out of the room, through the dining room and kitchen then up her stairs. She shut her door soundly then laughed at herself. Zach had planted the seed of curiosity tonight. Ghosts. Ha!

      Still, she didn’t take much time to get ready for bed, then pulled the covers up to her chin and stared into the darkness for at least an hour. Just as she finally drifted toward sleep she heard a helicopter again. She threw back the covers and raced to the window in time to see lights from the chopper as it landed quite a distance away.

      She saw Zach leave the house and jog into the night, disappearing. She waited and waited and waited. If he returned, it wasn’t via the same path. Vague sounds reached her from somewhere within the castle, but it was like an echo chamber, bouncing sound without clarity.

      What do you do, Zachary Keller? Are you a smuggler? Contraband of some sort? Illegal substances? People?

      Her imagination was working overtime and she was running on empty, tired and yet keyed up. She was tempted to creep down the stairs, but finally decided against it. She wasn’t going to cause problems, wanted nothing to interfere with her plans. If they left her alone, she would give them—although she had no idea who “them” might be—their privacy, too.

      Her decision made, she went back to bed, knowing she was fooling herself. More than anything she wanted to know what was going on.

      Even if it involved ghosts.