Wow, looks like I was long winded today. It's been a rare occasion lately, but Hawke, Ally and little Rosie sure had a lot to share with me...
Rosie's looking forward to next weeks Halloween thrills in Talbot's Peak, and so am I! I wonder what gems will be appearing on the blog hopping trail from our wild and unruly residents.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Ally smiled at the sound of her youngest as she finished checking in the next guest at the counter. “Room 306, ma’am…and remember,” she whispered in a conspiratorial voice. “That room is said to be haunted by the ghost of this hotel’s original proprietor, Chief Eagle - Flies by Moon. There’s and oil painting of him in your room, I’m told, and he comes to admire it on a nightly basis.”
“Oh lands be, I hope he does child.” The sturdy, grey haired Mrs. Ryneson who, for all the world, reminded Ally of a rhino, snorted through her ginormous nose. “See, I reserve this room every year before Halloween in the hopes of seeing sexy Chief Eagle’s ghost, spending some quality time with Mr. Ryneson in Talbot’s Peak and ending the week by going to the annual trail ride. I’ll tell you young lady, if I had a few less years on this body I’d be leaving here with another calf on the way…”
Ah calf… Ally didn’t have time to dig any deeper into the strange wording Mrs. Ryneson seemed to be using before she had her own calves tugging at her shirt.
“Where’s the food…”
“This town is boring…”
“I’m off to scout for Chief Eagle, child…good luck with this brood of your own.” Mrs. Ryneson smiled as she moved off in the direction of the stairs.
“Mama, guess what…”
“What is it Rosie?” Her youngest had really come out of her shell in the last few months of living in Talbot’s Peak, but had yet to make any ‘real’ friends.
“Yo, Silas, can the rudeness. There are fruits and veggies in the room. Go eat some.” Ally watched him storm away with his everything bores me brother tagging along behind. Those two were going to be even more of a handful once girls and cars entered the picture, and with no male figure in their life it was going to be hell on her, but that was a problem for another day.
Today, right this moment, it was about the pouty nine year old in front of her.
“I’m sorry, Rosie, what did you want to tell me?”
“Guess what I heard today?”
“Hmmm, let’s see, you heard about the Great Pumpkin?”
“That’s pretend, mama…”
“Well,” Ally stood there with her finger tapping her lip, pretending to think and waiting out the exuberant girl who was dying to tell her the news. “Could it be that you passed your test, today?”
“No, ah, I mean,” her daughter’s struggle to gather her thoughts was written plainly on her lovable face.
“Yes, I passed the test, but that’s not the news.”
“Good job, Rosie! See, with study…”
Ally took Rosie’s hand and moved her away from the desk and over to the cushiest of couches in the lobby and sat them both down. Intent on focusing only on what her sweet flower had to say.
“Sorry, Rose, you have my attention. Why don’t you tell me what you heard today…”
And so began the animated telling of all things Halloween and Talbot’s Peak. Almost all the businesses went all out with decorations, some places offered special brews for adults, and it was said that the costumes in this town were out of sight in their accuracy. Ally wasn’t sure what that was all about, but she’d planned on taking Rosie out this weekend to find one of the special outfits.
“…And then next weekend there’s a trail ride and haunted house! Mommy, can we go? Can we?”
“I’m sure we can make that work, Rosie. Tell me though, did you hear about this at school?”
“Nope, Hawke told me all about it.”
Ally’s stomach dropped at the mention of the figment of her daughter’s imagination. It had been at least a month since she’s talked about the imagined ghost friend she’d named Hawke. A month since Ally had sat her daughter down and explained that ghosts were not real and that it was okay to make real friends here in Talbot’s Peak, because they were not leaving. She’d been convinced that Rosie had understood. She’d hoped that since she’d heard no more about the elusive Hawke that Rosie was ready to let go of her imaginary friend. Yet here they were again, talking about the ghost as if he were real.
“Rosie, what did we say about Hawke?”
Her daughter looked down and pressed her lips into a frown, anger rich in the taut hold of her body. “You don’t think he’s real, but he is mama, he is and he’s right here with us…”
Hawke hurt for the child of his heart, the little girl he intended on making his daughter upon returning to the land of the living, but he understood a mother’s fears for her child’s mental and emotional health. Rosie was shy around others of her own age, not due to lack of self-esteem, but because of her unusual gift. She could see the dead surrounding those around her. They couldn’t reach her, yet. Her psychic shields were still strong, but as she grew, they would erode; leaving her defenseless and at the mercy of too many voices and demands.
He would not allow that to happen. She was touched by the greater being, given a gift only few had and it was his duty to teach her how to handle them.
“Little Flower, don’t be angry with your mother, she’s only worried for you. Because she is unable to see me, she fears for you.”
He watched the two women who would become central points in his life, relax. Their bodies lost the tension and their faces softened. They were like two little chickadee’s sitting on a log. So similar in looks yet vastly different in attitude. The younger he would raise and teach the ways of his people, but the older he would marry and mate. He would offer her, his soul and ask for hers in return.
First though, it was time to start convincing the luscious Ally that there was nothing imaginary about him, and to do that, he needed a bit of Rosie’s help.
“Little Flower, would you tell your mother something for me?”
The smallest of nods told him she’d heard his request.
“Mama, Hawke asked me to tell you something…”
The tension in his soul mate returned at her daughter’s words, but she listened.
“What’s that, Rosie?”
“He said, what he comes to admire in the dark of the night is not the ab-h-horrent oil monstrosity in room 306, but rather the lovely lady in suite 102. He prefers the moon light as it reflects over you beautiful, chestnut hair.”
Hawke smiled at the eye widening shock fluttering over Ally’s face. He was awfully glad they had remained sitting as his mate had just gone as white as his insubstantial body.