Spirit of Gettysburg: Soulmates Across Time

Chapter 7

He was cadaver rigid in his brown leather chair. "By a bad Rebel soldier. I advise you not to live there."

Bad? Her ghost? That annoyed and surprised her. She stared hard at the lawyer. "I'm going. I anticipate a happy, new life at Cavalry Manor."

Mr. Steinberg slurped coffee from a red, ceramic, rooster-shaped coffee mug and returned her hard stare.

She drummed her fingers on her purse.

"You have enough money to buy a new house. I strongly advise selling the place and buying another property. There are paranormal and frightening activities at Cavalry Manor which I experienced myself when I visited your uncle." He sniffed and peered owlishly at her over his glasses.

She was skeptical. Her ghost was a gentle, romantic soul. She refused to inquire what had frightened him. "If there are paranormal and frightening activities in the house, I'm okay with that. I love mysteries. I'm intrigued. I believe ghosts are individual and complex. They're similar to humans, which of course they once were and still are only in another dimension, another form. I have a good feeling about this ghost."

"That's your foolish opinion?" His voice was a strident honk a goose would envy.

Maureen nodded. She admitted to herself, though, this new twist unsettled her a tad and the lawyer's haughty attitude unnerved her. Masking her nervousness, she laughed and touched his wrist.

"Humph." He pulled his spindly wrist away from her with a stiff twist of his arm.

Her cheeks torched with embarrassment. Oh great, he was offended. She hated hurting his feelings. It was like offending your grandfather. "I'm a little nervous today and when I'm nervous I relieve my tension by laughter. I respect your warning, sir." She furiously nibbled her thumbnail.

He jerked his neck back and forth. "Cavalry Manor is haunted," his voice was Antarctic cold, "and your cavalier attitude is shocking. Cavalry Manor has as the saying goes, bad vibes."

He raised his voice. "Don't live there. It's dangerous. I'm perplexed as to why your uncle left it to you instead of selling it." 

He caught her eye and held it.

She knew why. Her ghost husband requested it. Her uncle and the ghost were friends. Uncle Brucie knew the ghost's connection to her and wanted them together. Her spirit explained all this to her during his final visit. He also told her she had failed him and would soon know the particulars.

She squirmed in her chair. Mr. Steinberg's concern for her welfare touched her but she knew her ghost wouldn't hurt her. "We're at cross purposes, sir. I'm sorry for offending you, but I'm moving in immediately."

His expression was cement hard and he brushed aside her comments. "Living there would place you in dire straits. He's a bad one."

Enough already! "Sir, I truly respect your opinion. I'll be careful. Thanks for doing your duty, but," her hands gripped her knees, "dead spirits, no matter how bad people say they are, don't scare me. People terrify me with their unpredictability and deliberate cruelty."

Her leg was shaking. She stopped jiggling it and muzzled her words. He didn't need to know her pervasive fear of humans. But, was her ghost indeed bad? Did she truly know him? Was there a side to him she was unaware of?

Queasiness swamped her solar plexus, her internal psychic warning signal of looming trouble. "I'd like to hear about this bad ghost."

"Humph, humph," Mr. Steinberg blew his nose in a tissue, crumpled it and tossed it into the wire trash basket by his desk. "He's a male."

"Great start!"

His voice was condescending. "A Rebel soldier in the U.S. Civil War. You're probably unfamiliar with the history of that bloody war. It's a multifaceted subject." His demeanor screamed that she was an idiot like most of her generation and didn't know or understand history.

Author's Note:  Next Chapters upload Sunday!