going back and changing what occurred—we humans only forget what transpired on the other strand.”
“Well, there you go.” Judy strode to one of the dressers, opened a drawer and lifted out a zippered cosmetic bag that made a clinking noise in her hand. “John and I discussed this, and we want you to have a portion of the treasure. We never would’ve known it existed without your help.”
“I can’t accept—”
“Yes you can, and you will. We figured you’d try to save all these ghosts from those murderous thieves, and you can’t travel back to the nineteenth century without the means to support yourself.” She dropped the bag beside Meredith. “We owe you much more than this. Knowing my great-great-grandfather is finally at peace and reunited with Prudence is priceless.”
“What about your family?” Meredith lifted the pouch and found it far heavier than she imagined it would be. “Have you spoken to a lawyer yet?”
“We have. She said with the provenance we can provide, including a record of the original claim deed—which we happen to have—Frederick’s initials carved over the burial spot, and Oliver’s video, she doesn’t foresee any difficulties in establishing right of ownership.” Judy grinned. “As far as the lawyer and our family are concerned, what is presently in the box is exactly the amount we found. Nobody needs to know about your portion.”
“I don’t know what to say. Everything seems to be pointing me in the same direction,” she grumbled under her breath.
“You’re meant to do this, Meredith.”
Nodding absently, she rose from the bed. “Thank you for the money. I’m certain being well funded will help. I need to go find Daniel.”
“John and I are thrilled to be a part of this.”
Another pang of anxiety-tinged anticipation hit her. “Let’s just hope everything goes without a glitch.” Like that ever happened when you were a MacCarthy.
8
Daniel waited in the middle of what used to be Main Street, his attention fixed upon the cabin where Meredith resided. He should’ve made plans to meet with her before she left for Missoula. Instead, here he stood, as still as … well, hell … as still as death—hoping she’d come outside. At least he’d managed to refrain from haunting to gain her attention.
Heaving a ghostly sigh, he pondered the recent changes in his non-life. He’d been acutely aware of Meredith’s absence all day. Without her, his world had gone dull and flat. He’d made a game of going over the details of every encounter they’d had since the day she’d arrived. Doing so had helped some, and different attributes leaped out at him with each memory.
Like how her eyes were sometimes more blue than gray, depending on what she wore. And when the sun touched her hair just so, he’d noticed copper strands mixed in with the honey-gold. Then there were her ears. Meredith had the prettiest ears he’d ever beheld, and a woman’s ears had never really been all that interesting to him. He found everything about her enticing.
Finally, the cabin door opened, and she walked out onto the front porch. If he were corporeal, the resulting slam of relief and joy would’ve knocked him on his arse. Daniel made himself visible and drifted closer. When she looked at him, her eyes shone with … he didn’t know what, but he liked what he saw. “Meredith.”
“Daniel.” One corner of her mouth quirked up.
“I must apologize for once again leaving you so abruptly the other morning.” If he wore a hat, he’d have it in hand. “After so long without any interaction with the living, and with nothing to think about but the endless sameness of every day, I find I’m often overcome by—”
“There’s no need to apologize. I understand.” Meredith left the porch and joined him. “I have a lot to tell you, and we have decisions to make.”
He couldn’t tell from her expression whether the news was good or bad. “Shall we walk, or would you prefer to find somewhere private to sit?”
“How far away is your mining claim?”
“It’s a half hour’s brisk hike from Garrettsville. Mostly uphill.”
Meredith seemed to mull that over for a few seconds. “Do any ghosts haunt the old schoolhouse after hours?”
“After hours?” His directed a questioning look her way.
“You know, after the park closes for business. I didn’t sense any spirits there the few times I’ve visited.”
“Ghosts don’t pay any attention to business hours, days of the week, or calendars in general. Why would we?” he said, flashing her a wry look. “As for the school,