Did it pop out at you? Did it appear as if it had been typed in larger, bolder font while everything around it blurred? Did you get the tingles all over or an odd mixture of anxiety and anticipation?”
Meredith clamped her mouth shut.
“I am an empath, Meredith.” Her aunt snorted. “You don’t have to utter a word for me to know the answer.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have a choice,” she argued, digging in her heels.
“Of course you have a choice. However, when the spirit world summons you for help, ignoring the call can be disastrous. Turning your back on what you are meant to do will haunt you forever, and like the spirits whose plight you disregard, you will have no peace.”
“You can’t possibly believe I’m the only medium who can help the Garretsville ghosts. There are plenty of ghost whisperers who can step in and persuade them to pass on.”
“Not so.” Beth shook her head. “Many might try, but they’re certain to fail. Why do you think that old town is still haunted? Do you seriously believe no one in the past one hundred and seventy years has tried to send them on their way? Only the one called upon by the spirits themselves will succeed.”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have any special abilities,” Meredith grumbled.
“All of us who are gifted have shared that sentiment a time or two. Especially when we’re being severely inconvenienced by the needs of the no-longer-living.”
For the next several minutes, she and her aunt ate in silence, and the article sitting on the table drew Meredith’s gaze over and over. She could no longer deny what the strange sensations she’d experienced meant. She’d been summoned.
“Meredith, can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t believe you’re meant to do this?”
“No, I can’t, so I’ll leave it up to fate. I’ll fill out the application and send it in, knowing full well hundreds if not thousands of people will also apply. Everyone else will do so because they want the job while I do not.” Her aunt opened her mouth as if to argue, and Meredith held up a hand in the universal sign for stop. “If I am chosen, I’ll go.”
“Fair enough.” Wearing a look of supreme satisfaction, Beth tore into her chocolate chip cookie, pausing between bites to add, “Adventure awaits.”
Meredith did the math in her head, calculating how much a summer in Montana would set her back financially. “I sincerely hope not.”
2
Meredith rattled along the rutted dirt track, her groceries and gear bouncing around in the back of her old Jeep. The ghost town of Garretsville, situated in the heart of the Garnet Mountain Range, was thirty miles from Missoula, the nearest city. It had taken her three and a half days of driving from Tennessee to arrive at this point on the GPS map.
As she crested the rise, the ghost town came into view in the valley below. Meredith pulled over and put her SUV in park. Her heart hammered away in her chest, and it wasn’t because of the possibility of encountering ghosts. That she could handle. Her pounding heart wasn’t from the altitude either. This was an introvert’s worst nightmare, and despite all that stuff about being summoned by the spirits, Meredith hadn’t truly believed she’d be chosen.
Today she’d undergo orientation and meet the three total strangers who would be her co-workers and cabinmates. That, more than anything, caused her pulse to pound and her mouth to go dry. She’d have no problem talking about history with visitors who would leave Garretsville at the end of their tour. Spending her days and nights with total strangers? That brought on all kinds of angst.
Meredith surveyed the weather-worn buildings scattered throughout the valley. She counted fourteen. Several of the structures weren’t much more than dilapidated shacks, and all of them were surrounded by spindly pines, spruce, and scrubby bushes. Garretsville didn’t fit her definition of a town—more like a hamlet or a blot on the mountainous landscape.
One of the larger cabins had a propane tank in back, and a power line connected to the building. Taking note of the ranger’s pickup truck and two other cars parked in the gravel lot, she figured that had to be where the volunteers stayed. Putting the Jeep back in gear, she continued down the hill toward whatever adventure—or misadventure as the case may be—awaited.
A man wearing a park ranger’s uniform walked out of the cabin to the front porch as