Chapter One
“All I’m sayin’ is that more women should notice me.”
Molly O’Shea Danner rolled her eyes and moved her dust cloth across the shelf. “But Jasper…”
“I mean, look at me. I have liquid brown eyes, perfectly cut and slightly mussed hair that matches, down to the almost golden highlights, with a slight curl over my forehead. I’m tall and thin with a perfect form.” He flexed his muscles to prove his point, causing the white tee shirt he was wearing to cling even tighter to his chest. The short-sleeve button-up shirt over it was unbuttoned and shifted with the movement. “And I’m gorgeous. Just ask all those women who used to fall at my feet.”
“But, Jasper…”
“So, tell me. What am I doing wrong?” He looked at her with pleading eyes.
“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that only two people have been able to see you, and one of them is dead,” she said dryly.
He looked her over from head to foot, a slight leer gleaming in his eyes. “So, I get why your grandfather wouldn’t be interested in me, but why not you? Your gorgeous, with that long dark copper hair, eyes that look like a forest a guy could get lost in, and your creamy, blemish free complexion.”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head as she placed the regional cookbooks back in place and moved up towards the next shelf. The dust cloth flew across the board as she talked.
“I’ve already explained the second reason. I’m only thirty-one, twice a widow, and have no desire for another relationship. Much less one that would make me a three-time loser before I ever said, ‘I do’.”
“Well, there is that.” He shrugged and shook his head. “You must really be a bad-luck charm. Married at nineteen, widowed at twenty, married again at twenty-three, and widowed a second time on your twenty-fifth birthday. That’s a royal shaft. If I wasn’t already dead, I would avoid you like the plague.”
“And the fact that you are dead is my first reason. Not to mention, if you were still alive, you’d be in your nineties. And no, I wouldn’t exactly call it unfair treatment. It was harsh, yes, but at least it’s not as bad as being a ghost and not being allowed to flaunt yourself to all the women out there.”
“Hmmph”, Jasper slumped against the counter. “That’s a stupid rule.”
“Well, if you hadn’t decided to enter that street race, rolled your car and died on impact, you might be an old man now, instead of a ghost.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have a choice.”
Molly cocked her eyes at him. “You always have a choice.”
“Not if you want to impress women, you don’t. And burning rubber was always a great way to do just that.” Jasper did his best to shape his misty form into the perfect pouty pose, but it lost some of its impact when he slid into the wood.
Shaking her head, she went back to dusting the shelves and inventory, like any good new owner would do. Two years ago, her grandfather had died, leaving her O’Shea Emporium—a grand name for what most folks still considered a general store.
The old railroad depot had changed a lot over the years. Freight rooms and ticket counters had disappeared long before Molly was born, replaced by shelves stocked with whatever Finn O’Shea thought the town needed. As Whistle Creek grew, so did the Emporium, though not always in the same direction as the rest of the businesses.
Old Line Shops was made up of three strips of shops, which created a loose horseshoe. Each strip had different owners. Charles Petrie owned the strip across the Green from the O’Shea Emporium. Dixie Landry, who ran The Iron Rail Cafe, owned the back portion. Molly’s side – and The Green itself – had stubbornly remained in O’Shea hands for more than forty years. Charles hated that. Less than two hours after Finn died, he’d tried to buy the property from the estate. She and her brother, Callum, hadn’t even needed to discuss the answer.
Where Vivienne Devereaux at The Sparrow’s Nest carried higher end vintage and cottage décor, Molly still carried everyday sheets, towels, and curtains. Where Caroline Bryant, one of the newer shop owners, focused on specialty kitchenware and dip, soup, breads, and other mixes in The Kitchen Shelf, Molly had shelves filled with the basic pots and pans.
Even if Finn had been against major changes, Molly knew The Emporium needed a serious overhaul where inventory was concerned. Being solely responsible for a business had been a huge learning curve for her, and intimidating. When it came to inventory, she had no idea where to start. Having Jasper hanging around just made it a little more frustrating. Still, as she dusted, she looked over every item, each arrangement, and all the shelves, hoping to come up with a few ideas.
The cowbell over the front door jangled, announcing a customer’s arrival. Molly cringed at the sound and set the dustcloth down on a shelf below the front counter and smiled.
“Hi, Tara Beth! What brings you to town today?”
“Hi, Molly,” she said, fanning her face with one hand. “Ellie Marchand and I were doing some shopping. We’ve been assigned to make gift bags for the HiPS mini convention next month, so we needed something fun to add to them.”
Molly nodded, understanding exactly what was being said. Tara Beth had a deep passion and interest in historical homes, mainly due to the fact she owned Belle Briar, the only remaining – and outstandingly gorgeous mansion in Whistle Creek. Consequently, she was very active in the Historical Preservation Society – HiPS as everyone called it.
“That sounds like fun,” Molly said with a genuine smile.
Tara Beth took a deep breath, her hand fanning even faster. “Lord have mercy. It’s the first of October and it’s still hot as blazes out there.” Suddenly, Tara Beth swayed.
Molly hurried to her side. “Tara Beth? Are you okay? Are you having an episode?”
“I’m okay. Just got a little overheated. If I can just get a glass of water while I wait. Ellie stopped to talk to someone she knew, so she should be here shortly.”
“Of course.” Molly gently took her arm and led her to an overstuffed chair in front of the large picture window that looked out over the Green. Finn had placed it there so he could keep an eye on things outside when business was slow inside. Molly found it was a good place for some shoppers to rest while their friends browsed the shelves, so she kept it. It turned out to be one of the most used areas.
“Here, come sit down while I get it. You sure it isn’t your heart? Didn’t Doc Jennings change your medication recently?”
“Yes, but that was over a month ago. I’ve gotten adjusted to it now. It’s just this heat and humidity.” She lifted her hair from her neck and leaned back into the chair.
Tara Beth Wilson was a one-time beauty queen – tall, thin, and absolutely gorgeous. Light blonde hair, eyes the color of blue sapphires, and a complexion that would make a beauty treatment company green with envy. Her parents had been wealthy beyond belief. Unfortunately, none of that had prevented her from having a heart condition from birth. Molly lived in fear she would hear of her good friend and neighbor’s passing any day. Just the thought made her want to cry.
Once Tara Beth was settled, she hurried to the refrigerator in the kitchen area and grabbed a bottle of water. As she moved from the back to the front, the annoying cowbell over the door jangled. Molly cringed, as she picked up her pace. She hated that thing.
The first thing she noticed was that Jasper had positioned himself next to Tara Beth’s arm. He had grown a snout and long floppy ears like some weird hound dog, but his bottom half was a puddle of mist and vapor. His crush on Tara Beth was getting out of hand. She gritted her teeth to keep her smile in place.
As she handed the bottle to Tara Beth, she gave a friendly nod to the new customer. “Welcome to O’Shea Emporium. Can I help you find anything special?”
“Oh, no, Molly. She’s with me,” Tara Beth said, then eased to a standing position. Jasper did a slow, exaggerated fall backwards, before he stood up and resumed his teenage form. She wobbled once, but before Molly could grab her arm she steadied.
“Molly, I’d like you to meet my friend and fellow historical society member, Eleanor Marchand. Ellie is our historical landscape preservation specialist. She has such a magical touch with plants I’ve been getting her advice and help with the gardens at Belle Briar.”
Molly smiled at the woman, then gritted her teeth again. Jasper was circling her like a sculptor critiquing a statue. He’d even ‘donned’ a stained apron and a beret.
“Hmm…a bit mousy,” she gave her head a once over. “Light brown hair, but she needs to let it down – not leave it pulled up in a messy bun held in place by a pencil, of all things.” He moved to her face. “Light brown eyes shaded with intelligence.” He stood up straight next to her. “Tall, but not too tall.” He moved around her again. “If she’d put on something besides faded blue jeans, that sleeveless linen button-down shirt and wore sandals instead of boots, she might just be worth looking at.”
It took all the strength she had in her to keep from reaching out and slapping him, even if she knew her hand would just sail right through him and end up hitting Ellie instead.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ellie.” Molly hoped she sounded sincere. She was. Really. It was just Jasper…
Ellie smiled. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Tara has told me quite a bit about you.” Her grin got wider. “And about Bossy.”
This time Molly allowed her emotions to show. It was the same exasperation that she’d felt for Jasper just seconds ago. “Yeah, well, if it wasn’t for Tara Beth, I might be able to keep my bovine version of Houdini home. Instead, she keeps feeding her biscuits and watermelon chunks.”
Tara Beth’s laugh rang out like a sweet bell – nothing like the jarring noise of the cowbell above the shop door.
“Ah, she’s such a sweet girl. Her visits to Belle Briar are the highlight of my day, even if you do have to keep fixing the fence.” She turned to Ellie. “I can’t wait for you to meet her. And I hope when you do, she has Lady Margaret with her.”
Ellie’s brow dipped. “Lady Margaret?”
Molly shook her head. “Lady Margaret MacFeathers. She is one of my Polish Crown chickens, and Bossy’s best friend. She’s often seen riding on Bossy’s shoulders, if she isn’t off somewhere laying an egg, terrorizing the other chickens, or pulling up the plants in my garden.”
Ellie’s brow lifted. “Oh! What type of garden do you have?”
“Mostly vegetables, but I use the companion plant method. I have Basil and other herbs planted between the tomatoes and other veggies. I do have a few herbs in pots, but those are mostly my trial run at growing medicinals.”
“Companion planting is a great way to go. Do you use heirloom seeds, or hybrids?”
“Both. My grandmother, Della, was the real gardener, and she had seeds that her mother brought with them from Ireland. Mostly herbs like sage, parsley, thyme and chives, as well as a few vegetables like turnips, cabbage, carrots, peas, and onions. My tomatoes and some of the peppers are a mix of hybrid and heirloom, but my okra and squash are heirloom.”
Excitement lit up Ellie’s face. “That is amazing! If you want to move further into heirlooms, let me know. I have an entire list you can choose from. In fact…”
Tara Beth’s laugh and a hand placed on Ellie’s arm stopped her from continuing.
“Ellie dear, hold up.” She turned to Molly. “If you ever open that gate for her, she won’t stop.” She turned back to Ellie. “We still have shopping to do. Molly’s garden can wait for another day.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Did you get your packages?”
“Oh! I almost forgot! Molly, did my order come in?”
“Yes, they did. I’ll get them.”
While Molly gathered up Tara Beth’s special orders, she watched Jasper with one eye. He seemed to be torn between mooning over Tara Beth and scrutinizing Ellie with suspicion.
After Tara Beth and Ellie left, Molly propped the door open to allow what little breeze there was to filter inside, as well as to prevent the clanging of the cowbell. She spent the next hour avoiding Jasper, helping the occasional customer, and trying to wade through the accounts. It was times like this that she wanted to scream at her grandfather for not leaving the Emporium to her brother. She hated numbers. But she already knew that, even if he had left it all to her brother, Callum would have immediately signed it over to her.
Unlike her, who loved the working end of the Emporium and the customers, he loved numbers and was an established CPA. The very idea of becoming a shop owner gave him the shivers. Fortunately, he was willing to do the accounting for her – for a discounted price, of course.
Loud voices, blended with laughter and shrieks of excitement floated through the open door. The screen door opened again, but this time it slammed against the outside wall. A woman came running in, shopping bags hanging from her arms and threatening to drop as she waved them around. Jasper stood at attention and gave a sultry smile. Thinking the woman had actually seen him, panic began to rise. How on earth was she supposed to explain a ghost lounging around in her shop?
But her fear of ghost sightings wasn’t warranted. Instead, the woman’s eyes were wide, and she pointed behind her. “Do you mind if I leave my bags here? I want to get a photo. She’s here!”
Molly felt a trickle of consternation. She quickly did the math: laughter + squeals + a storage place for bags + photos could only add up to one thing. And it wasn’t a good thing.
She quickly followed the woman outside and looked out at the Green. Her exasperation with Jasper was nothing compared to this. “Bossy? How in the world did you get all the way down here?”
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