Broken Bonds, page 24
Not long after, Annabelle and her brother were sent to a mental institution until a family friend convinced authorities both siblings were harmless and they were released. Her brother died not long after, and Annabelle passed in a nursing home in 1960.
Since her death many have claimed to have seen her still roaming the streets. Some sources say a group of children were playing in the hotel when all of the doors and windows slammed shut and the temperature dropped. The children never went back. On another instance, a visitor claims to have seen a young woman in a white dress standing in one of the windows of the hotel.
Legend says Annabelle is still there to protect the hotel from trespassers and vandals. Current part-time residents say they know “Dirty Annie” will protect their town, though they’re unsure how far she’d go.
I pull away and look back up at the building, shivers running down my spine.
Did one of the curtains just move?
“Um, maybe let’s move on to the next stop…” I say, getting an eerie vibe the longer I stare at the hotel.
“Scared?” Jillian asks, and when I glance back over at her, she’s smirking at me with her arms crossed.
I roll my eyes and grab her arm, dragging her away from the creepy hotel.
“Of course not,” I scoff.
Even I don’t believe me.
We continue our exploration, checking out a saloon, the courthouse/jail, a church, and the post office once we leave the hotel behind. There’s also a General Store that looks like it would be full of old goodies, but unfortunately, it’s only open during the summer months. On our way back to the car, we observe a few of the private residences that are scattered about, leaving me feeling nostalgic.
I wish I could have seen this place when it was lively and full of activity.
Climbing back in the car after our self-guided tour, the sun is high in the sky, and I'm starving, so we return to the interstate and look for a sign that will take us to a place to eat. After a short search, we manage to find a burger place and get our food to go. Since it’s still kind of early in the day, we want to keep driving to see if we can make it to one more town before it gets late. Our burgers are perfect, and the fries are extra salty like they should be, but nowhere near as good as the ones at Pop’s Diner.
Thinking of the diner makes me think of Forde, and I get a little blue when I imagine him with a tortured expression twisting his features. I miss him. It’s only been a couple of days since everything happened but knowing that the last time we were together went so badly has my heart yearning to see him. To assure him it wasn’t his fault and that I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at myself.
I really need to talk to him when I get back. I just don’t know what I’ll say.
“Hey Jilly?” I say, turning the radio down and shifting in my seat to look at my best friend.
“What’s up?” she asks as she stuffs a fry in her mouth.
I look down at my lap. She was right, of course. That I’d spill my guts eventually. All she had to do was wait me out. I sigh.
“I did something with Forde, and I don’t regret it, which has left me being eaten alive by the guilt,” I blurt out, squeezing my eyes closed.
I hear her cough and choke on whatever she’d just taken a bite of, and the car jerks when her foot accidentally hits the brakes. Horns blare as the other cars on the interstate fly by us, and my hands go straight for the ‘oh shit’ handle above the door. My eyes fly back open when the car is righted, and she’s no longer gasping for air.
“Fucking excuse me?” she coughs, glancing over at me with wide eyes, making me wince.
“Wait, wait, wait,” she says, shaking her head and waving a hand around. “Forde. Alpha in Link’s pack, Forde?”
I pick at my nails and shrug.
“Yeah, that would be the one,” I murmur.
“Holy shit. Tell me what happened!” she demands.
So, I do. Just like Shelby, I tell her about mine and Forde’s day together, my voice getting a bit of a tremor in it when I tell her about how I kicked him out after I came down and panicked. I feel better once I’ve told Jillian about it, and I’m glad I got that off my chest, even if she gets upset with me.
She’s quiet after, and I can see her mind working when I look at her.
“Wow. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Rams, I’m just surprised is all. I never expected… Hell, I don’t know.”
She blows out her breath, her cheeks puffing up.
“I didn’t either. Then again, I didn’t really expect Forde. He’s been really great with me, and I’m not saying I want to run off and bond with him or anything, but… I value our friendship. He’s been a big help in dealing with everything since… since the guys,” I say, my voice getting quieter.
“Hey, none of that. You know as well as I do that this is what’d they’d want. Not the guilt stuff, but you finding someone. And Forde is great from what I know about him. He’s pulled you back out of your hole, so he gets automatic brownie points for that in my book. So you don’t feel guilty about what you two did, so what? Rule and the others wouldn’t want you to feel guilty, anyway. And I don’t think you should either, for the record.”
“Thanks Jilly,” I say, smiling at her.
She grins back at me, and when she looks at me for a split second before putting her eyes back on the road, I can see her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“So… How was it? Did he rock your world?” she asks, smirking.
I gasp out a laugh and smack her arm.
“Jilly!”
“What? It’s a valid question. I need to know if he took care of my girl,” she snorts, throwing her head back and cackling.
I shake my head and smile. Gods, I fucking love her. I really don’t know what I’d do without her.
We continue on our journey, keeping an eye out for our next adventure. Ashcroft is where we end up. It’s about four hours from St Elmo, and according to what I looked up on my phone, it was originally known as Castle Forks City. It’s home to several historic ruins and homesteads, leaving it with an even creepier vibe than St Elmo.
Based on what I find on a website, when two Leadville miners discovered silver, news of their discovery spread like wildfire and the town suddenly grew in population. In a matter of weeks, the groundwork was laid, and a courthouse and the streets had been established. After the town was renamed Ashcroft, the population soared to over two thousand people and various saloons opened up, but a rich strike in nearby Aspen is what drove the whole town out.
According to the plaque we see when we first arrive, although this town is known for its silver mining history, this land used to be home to the Ute Indians. That wasn’t mentioned in the article I read, but it’s an interesting fact to know.
We pull into a parking lot, the ground muddy from the melted snow, and I note a few wooden shacks spread about. Beyond where we park, I can see the town’s last ten buildings to prove that it once existed.
No one is at the information center when we approach, but we leave a ten-dollar bill in a box we see nearby to pay for our entrance. Since we’re here on the off season, we won’t be able to check out the museum, but that’s okay. There are plenty of other things to explore.
We spend the next few hours checking the place out, following the dirt trails and plaques to guide us so we don’t get lost. I envision the hustle and bustle that must have once filled these dirt roads as we look around, imagine families in their cabins and the saloons full of patrons. It’s amazing, walking through these buildings and seeing them for what they are now, but also picturing how it must have looked back then.
It’s nearly dusk when we trek back to the car, so we need to get a move on to find a place to stay for the night. I’m exhausted and my body is sore from all the walking we’ve done, as well as being cramped in the car for hours, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our day.
We find a motel and trudge into our rented room, falling into the beds. Jillian and I face each other and grin.
“Thanks Jilly. I needed this.”
“I think we both did,” she murmurs, her eyes softening.
Tomorrow brings a new day and fresh adventures, but for tonight, my heart is content, and my mind is light.
Chapter Twenty-Six
RAMSEY
The next morning, we start early like we did the day before. After grabbing quick showers and checking out, we’re back on the road, looking for our next destination.
Jillian and I talk the entire drive. Really talk. Something I don’t think we’ve done since my alphas died. She gets to tell me how she’s been coping with their loss and about the quick friendship she’s formed with Rion. I’m grateful she’s had someone to talk to while I’ve been so caught up in my own shit.
I finally tell her about all the thoughts I’ve been struggling with, the anxiety since the bonds snapped. And then I tell her about my biggest fear. That I won’t be the mother for the babies I want to be without the guys.
Jillian scoffs and glares at me from the passenger seat. With my growing belly, I can barely touch the pedals because of how far I have to have the seat to avoid the steering wheel.
“Ramsey, with or without Ollie, Van, Rule, and Lake, you will be a wonderful mother. I know it. And it’s your fear of not being one that assures me of it. Mistakes will happen and you’ll have to learn everything as you go, but that’s life, isn’t it? You’ve been learning to live without the guys for a few months now, and you’ll probably be doing that for the rest of your life. I don’t really know. But I do know that you’re going to rock this. And besides, you’ll have me there to fix your screw ups along the way,” she chuckles, throwing me a wink when I glance over at her.
“Auntie Jilly to the rescue, huh?” I snort, smirking at her.
She’s more clueless than I am when it comes to babies. I can’t wait to see how she acts when they actually get here.
“Exactly. I’m going to be the best auntie there ever was. You’ll see.”
I shake my head and smile, and she turns the radio back up, a new 90s hiphop playlist rolling this time.
Our trip continues without a hitch, and we have a blast. We visit a few of the more well-known, popular ghost towns, but we also search out the ones that are less known.
Each place we visit is more interesting than the last, and I love that stepping back into time feeling. It’s magical, and yeah, a little creepy in some of the places because a lot seem to have a famous ghost story attached to them.
Our last stop before we make our way back home is actually a place close to Crystalwood. About an hour and a half out from our lively little city sits Lovelace, a town that, like all the others, was once bustling. Founded by Martin, Travis, Michael, and Corinne Lovelace, a pack of alpha oil tycoons and their omega. They brought the town to life when they settled in the area and struck oil in 1874.
It used to boast everything from a town doctor’s clinic to saloons and general stores. When the oil dried up sometime between 1890 and the early 1900s, the Lovelace’s abandoned the town, leaving the locals to fend for themselves. Most followed their founders’ lead and abandoned the town as well. The few who stayed suffered until the bitter end, refusing to give up on their homes.
It’s said that you can still see some of the residents that stayed behind in the windows of their homes or walking the road through town.
Surprisingly, Lovelace isn’t owned by anyone now. It’s just been left to wither away, and few really know about it. Maybe a few amateur ghost hunters here and there, but that’s about it. As it’s public property now, anyone can come out here, but since it’s rarely ever talked about, it’s mostly been forgotten.
Despite being abandoned, the structures throughout the town are still in mostly good condition.
We walk through one of the saloons first, and in my head, and I imagine what it must have looked like in its glory days. What’s left of the original furniture is still scattered about, the lace curtains on the windows moth eaten and dirty. An old piano that’s falling apart and missing most of its keys sits in a corner. Dust and debris cover the floor and other surfaces on this level, and I feel a shiver run down my spine as we stand in the center of the room. I’d swear I can hear lively laughter and upbeat piano music, but that’s silly.
Jillian and I look at each other, mirroring expressions on our faces.
“Do you hear that?” she whispers, eyes wide.
I swallow and nod, my hand going to my belly instinctively as a nervous jitter courses through my veins.
“Let’s get the hell out of this one,” she says, and pulls me along with her back outside.
I’m a bit slower thanks to not being able to even see my damn feet, but whatever. I waddle my ass as fast as I can out of that saloon. I didn’t sign up for a haunting this trip. I’ve already got a few alphas haunting my dreams back home. Anyone new at this stage in my pregnancy just won’t go well. That’s at least got to wait until I get these babies out of me.
“Fucking creepy,” Jillian says with a shudder, and I have to agree with her.
“Do you want to keep going or should we call it and get back home?” she asks after a few minutes.
“What? No way! This is our last stop and I’m not missing out on checking this place out just because of some… noises,” I say, ending my speech with a strangled sound.
She sighs and shrugs.
“Whatever you say, but if I think you’re going to pop a kid out in the middle of an abandoned building, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carting you out of here as fast as my little string beans can carry you,” she warns, narrowing her eyes and pointing a finger in my face.
I laugh.
“Jilly, there’s no way you could lift one of my ass cheeks at this point, much less my whole body. But I’d fucking pay to see you try.”
She rolls her eyes, and with the mood lightened, we carry on. We visit the clinic next, though it’s barely standing by now, with holes in the roof and sagging walls. Luckily, there’s no more paranormal activity —or whatever the hell that was in the saloon— as we make our way through the town.
Tucked away from everything else in the town, we find Dollhouse Manor that looks to be in better shape than all the others, and grin like children as we step past the white fence that surrounds the front of the house. It’s bigger than all the houses in Lovelace, which leads me to believe it belonged to the Lovelace’s themselves.
The outside is painted a light gray with black trim and a black roof. More windows than I could count adorn the entire house, I’d assume to allow for natural light to get in. All of them are arched and some of the ones upstairs look to have colored glass in them. The front of the house boasts a covered porch and above it is a balcony of the same size that must go to the master bedroom.
When we step inside, our footsteps echo around the empty home as I note beautiful hardwood floors covered by layers of dust.
“Oh, this place has hidden secrets. I can feel it,” Jillian says, her excitement bubbling over.
“Let’s find them,” I tell her, her enthusiasm bleeding over into me.
We search downstairs first but come up empty in all the rooms we find. What once was expensive wallpaper has peeled on most of the walls, and some rooms have obvious water damage on the walls and ceilings. The original wood floors that span the entire house have probably seen better days, but look to still be in good enough condition they could probably be repaired.
The sitting room has been decorated with a dark green wallpaper featuring a beautiful pattern of black damask designs. It has a rather gothic vibe to it that I find quite appealing. I can envision a deep navy and bronze chaise situated beneath the large window, accompanied by plush velvet couches in a maroon hue with a black coffee table in the middle. Matching black side tables would sit on either side of the largest couch, and old stained-glass lamps would sit perched on both. I would hang sheer black curtains on bronze rods over the windows so when left open on nice, breezy days, they’d float ethereally with wind.
To complete the look, a large area rug in a shade of black that shimmers green in the sunlight could be placed underneath the couches and tables.
I can see it all so clearly as I look about the room. A roaring fire in the fireplace. Me, curled on the couch with a mug of warm cider while the kids play outside, their laughter floating in through the open windows. When Jillian interrupts me, the vision fades, and the room is once again bare with peeling wallpaper and water damage.
“This place is amazing. Can you imagine living here? I bet if someone ever bought this land before the structures completely give way, they could fix the buildings up and make it a tourist place or… something. Maybe a vacation place,” she says, walking around the room.
I get sad when I think of someone buying this land up, this house, and turning it into something for commercial tourism. Now, a vacation home… That’d be lovely if someone did that. They’d have so much peace out here.
If they can ignore the ghosts, that is.
“Wanna move along upstairs and see if we find anything there?” I finally ask her, already heading to the stairs.
“Hold up! Don’t go up alone. You could fall or… something.”
I roll my eyes and huff. I swear she’s taken up my alpha’s job of hovering and being overly cautious since they died.
“I’m pregnant, Jilly, not an invalid. I think I can handle walking up some stairs on my own,” I tell her, my right arm curling around my belly so my hand can rest underneath while my left hand grabs the banister just in case.
I will say that Forde was right when he took me to that rage room and gave me that kinesiology tape. It’s helped a ton with the weight bearing down on my hips and the general discomfort I’ve been dealing with as I get bigger to accommodate these babies.
