Read Online For the Sake of Warwick Mountain (Harlequin Heartwarming) by Charlotte Douglas - Free Book Online Page A

awoke the next morning, the door stood open. In the weeks that followed, the farmer, members of his family and even some of his neighbors sat up until midnight. All observed the same phenomenon. When the midnight freight passed, the door swung wide as if opened by some ghostly hand.”
    Matt smiled to himself. He’d already figured out where the story was going. The door’s opening had a scientific explanation, and he wondered why Rebecca had chosen this particular tale to convince him of the existence of ghosts.
    “Now, the farmer was an intelligent man,” Rebecca said, “and didn’t believe in spirits. He knew there had to be a practical reason for the door that opened itself. So he wrote to the university at Cullowhee and asked if scientists could study the site.
    “Within weeks, several geologists had analyzed the ground beneath the farmer’s house and concluded that the same bedrock under the house ran into the valley beneath the train tracks. They concluded the rumblings from the train traveled through the rock, setting up vibrations that caused the door to swing open on its own.”
    Feeling smug that he’d been right, Matt waited for the ending.
    “Happy that he’d solved the mystery of the self-opening door, the farmer thought no more about it, other than to make a point of closing the door each morning when he awoke. Months later, however, he was up late with a sick cow. Passing through the living room on his way to bed, he noticed the time was almost midnight. He could set his watch by the train whistle. But as the clock struck twelve, not a sound issued from the valley below. As the last chime died away, however, the front door creaked on its hinges and swung open.
    “The next day, the farmer learned that the midnight freight had been delayed by a rock slide on the other side of the mountain—but his door had opened, nonetheless. No longer skeptical about the presence of a ghost in his house, he put the place up for sale and moved his family to another mountain.
    “The next family didn’t stay long in that house, either, and soon the house was abandoned, its reputation too well known for anyone to dare living there. Years later, the midnight freight run was canceled, but even today, for those who are brave enough to visit the decrepit house, someone—or something—opens the door at midnight.”
    She sat back and laced her hands around her now-empty coffee cup.
    “A great story,” he conceded, “but you made it up, right?”
    She smiled and shook her head. “The phenomenon’s been documented.”
    Her response startled him, and he wouldn’t have believed it, except for the fact that Rebecca seemed too much of a straight shooter to lie. “And there’s no explanation?”
    Her enticing smile widened. “Not unless you believe in ghosts.”
    He couldn’t decide whether she was teasing or serious and was surprised when she rose from her chair and wished him good-night. It wasn’t yet ten o’clock, far too early for his usual bedtime, even factoring in jet lag.
    “Pleasant dreams,” she said with a hint of teasing.
    “Any resident ghosts I should know about?” he asked.
    “Only Granny, but she won’t hurt you.” She slipped inside the house, and again, he didn’t know if she’d been serious or pulling his leg.
    He rose and followed her inside, where she started up the stairs. “Rebecca, aren’t you going to lock the door?”
    She paused and turned. “You can, if it makes you feel safer. No one in Warwick Mountain locks doors. Crime isn’t a problem here.” Her green eyes twinkled. “And locks don’t keep the ghosts out.”
    Recalling the state-of-the-art security system in his Malibu home, he shook his head, feeling as if he’d traveled either back in time or to a foreign land.
    Rebecca started back up the stairs, then stopped again. “By the way, please call me Becca. Everyone else does.”
    “Sure.” The name suited her. Unpretentious and to the point. “Good night,