quick look. Was it possible he had a lesser degree of ability similar to hers? If so, he might be willing to help her send the Garretsville spirits on their way. Meredith and her older sister often worked together when convincing recalcitrant spirits to move on. So did Aunt Beth and Meredith’s father.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “A gut feeling, or maybe it’s deductive reasoning. This was a mining town. Odds are the ghosts here were prospectors. Not many women mined or panned for gold in the mid eighteen hundreds.”
“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.