Chapter 72

Part 5: All Hallows Evie

"Thanks for the help." Sam Holiday waved from the porch of his new - well, old but new to him - house, as the last carload of his siblings drove away. He eased down onto the porch swing and sipped a beer as the autumn sunset painted the sky. He'd turn thirty-five in ten days and he'd just bought his first home. It felt damn good. Now if only he had someone to share it with.
Shaking off that thought, Sam got up and went into his kitchen to clean up the remains of the pizza, beer and soda he'd fed his family to bribe them into helping him paint, clean and finally move in. It had been a long month of repairs to get the old Victorian lady into shape, and he still had a long way to go. But at least now the wiring and plumbing were up to code, and he had a decent kitchen, bath and bedroom. The rest would come. Including, someday, maybe, a wife and family to help fill up all those empty rooms upstairs.
In the last two years, Sam's four siblings, one older and three younger, had all found the loves of their lives and gotten married. Noel and his wife Shelby had an adorable daughter named Dawn. Star and Theo were trying to get pregnant, and Summer and her new husband Matt had just announced that they were expecting their first child sometime next spring. Valentine and Cora had decided to wait a year or so, but even they were obviously making plans.
Was that why Sam was suddenly feeling old and alone? Or did his attack of gloominess just have to do with being by himself in a big rambling house? He really had no idea. One way to deal with a case of the blues though, was to work through it. He dragged a stepladder and a handful of work lights out of the basement and started painting the living room, or main parlor as they'd probably called it here in Charleston when the house had been built in the 1850s. The stained Southern pine wainscoting he wouldn't touch, but the walls above were going from a faded nicotine brown to a soothing moss green. Sam was an interior designer by profession, and this house was going to be his masterpiece.
It was almost midnight when he finished the second wall. He was starting to get sloppy, so it was time to quit. He put the lid on the paint can, turned off the halogen work lights and carried his brushes and roller into the kitchen to clean. Soft music still played on the stereo he'd set up in the kitchen for now, and Sam found himself humming along to some old torch song standards.
Finally, once everything was dealt with for the night, he poured himself a beer, flicked off the lights and music, and made his way upstairs still humming "That Old Black Magic".
When he reached the top of the stairs, he damn near fell back down. The cold glass, damp with condensation, started to slip from his fingers and he was barely able to tighten them down enough to keep it from tumbling to the floor.
He'd had only two sips of beer, and he was already seeing ghosts.
At the far end of the hall, silhouetted by a gorgeous oval window, stood a woman - maybe the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Long blonde hair, tied back with a salmon-pink ribbon cascaded to her waist, and her dress suggested the early 1900s - calf length with long sleeves, a full skirt and lots of lace. The gown was white or cream, with a salmon sash at the nipped-in waist. She wore white stockings and low-heeled salmon Mary Janes. She smiled sadly as she reached for him and opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Sam took two steps toward her. There was a chill to the air, but what he felt was sadness and loss, rather than danger or fear. He also couldn't help the hard-on that he was getting just from looking at her lovely, sad face and lush curves.
"Who are you?" The closer he drew, the colder the hallway became.
"Evie." He wasn't sure if he heard the name with his ears or with his brain.
"What do you want, Evie?"
Help me. This time, he was sure there hadn't been a sound. She dimmed and the outline of window and wall became visible through her image, which began to flicker.
Before he could reach her, she'd vanished.
Evie lingered, after she'd faded into nothingness, even after the handsome new owner of her house had gone into his room for the night. She'd been watching him as he cleaned and repaired the house over the last four weeks.
And now he was here - just in time for her annual manifestation.
Sam Holiday was perfect. Strong, handsome and kind. With his shoulder-length black hair, and the scruff of a beard he hadn't shaved, he looked a bit like a pirate, but his gray eyes were kind, and his smile was always near the surface. He was the shortest of his brothers but still easily topped six feet, and his wiry frame boasted both grace and strength. His hands - long, slim, agile - those drew her attention the most. While he clearly wasn't afraid to work with them, something about their elegance told her he was an artist, even before he hung a couple framed drawings in his bedroom with his own signature in the corner.
Better yet, while he'd had friends, parents, brothers and sisters helping him move in, there'd been no sign of a wife or a girlfriend. A pretty brunette with the happy glow of an expectant mother had given Evie a moment of panic until she'd realized the woman was the new homeowner's younger sister. An adorable imp of six months belonged to Sam's oldest brother and his wife. Sam himself was single.
Best of all, he hadn't panicked when he'd seen a ghost.
Oh yes. She smiled, even though no one could see her. After more than ninety years in limbo, she might have finally found the right man to take care of her unfinished business.