Secrets at Dillehay Crossing - Chapter One - An Old Abandoned Farmhouse

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Lilly slipped into her running gear, tiptoed downstairs, and eased out the back door, the lavender early morning lighting her way. At first her stride was short and her pace slow. But as her heart pounded harder, Lilly’s blood heated her body and loosened her tight muscles. She comfortably lengthened her stride and quickened her pace. Within minutes, her clothes and hair, slick with summer’s humidity, clung to her skin. Sweat rolled down her face in thick, salty beads collecting on her forehead, stinging her eyes, and blurring her vision.

When the trail turned sharply, Lilly didn’t see the broken tree branches in front of her. She stumbled and landed face first in some underbrush. She stood up, wiped the dirt and sweat off her face, shaded her eyes, and cast her gaze as far as it would go. Before her lay the massive Texas prairie which, unlike the flat Kansas prairie where Lilly once lived, sloped gentle-like. Instead of wheat, it was covered with trees as far as her eyes could see. Lilly found the Texas prairie beautiful, and she couldn’t help but think that God had gone a little overboard with it all.

She stood up and shook off her fall, catching a glimpse of something just beyond Hawkes Pond—something she’d not noticed before. What are those old structures off in the distance? She resumed her run, curiosity and adrenalin surging through her body. Lilly ran across a narrow, shallow bend at Dillehay Crossing where a Texas wind wheel, crumbling red barn, and an old dilapidated farmhouse came into view. The farmhouse squatted near the creek’s edge, its lines crooked from so many years spent leaning into the wind. Dust had scoured its skin so it now showed more board than paint, and the front door sagged to one side like a slack jaw.

Lilly slowed to a walk; followed the rutted, weed-grown track to the barnyard; and ventured inside the decrepit red barn. She brushed her fingers over a rusty, turn-of-the-century tractor. Who drove this antiquated tractor? Who once lived in that old farm house? What untold secrets lay within its walls? Lilly strolled up the dirt and gravel walkway that led toward the discolored, broken-down farm house. Even as a kid, old deserted houses like this one intrigued Lilly. Actually, she never thought of them as being empty at all. She believed they were filled with a type of lingering human energy and vast amounts of sleeping memories; when she silenced her mind, she often heard the faded echoes of voices from the past.

Lilly stood at the base of the crumbling, sagging structure sensing she was just one of many who had passed by its walls, across its lawn, or through its shadows and lights. She crept up the rickety steps onto the front porch. Using her shoulder, Lilly shoved open the front door and found that—although the wooden house was clearly decaying—the floors were not rotten and looked sturdy enough to bear her weight.

Lilly entered the house and looked around. She turned to her right and discovered a parlor with a fireplace, an adjoining kitchen, and an outdated, four-hole wood burning cook stove much like the one in her Nana Dulce’s kitchen. Lilly picked up the empty cast iron cooking pot from the stove, pretending to stir its contents. Who was the woman of this house and how long have you been waiting for her to return?

Lilly retraced her steps then made an immediate left toward the stairs. She felt movement and changing coolness and whispers of histories that were not from the present. At the base of the steps, Lilly saw something. At first it was formless and indistinct like a shadow lifting, but slowly the white, cloudy figure of a woman emerged. A ghost? Lilly sucked in her breath as her eyes traveled upward, looking for some semblance of a face. Only smoke—gray smoke—filled in the places where the woman’s nose, mouth, and eyes were supposed to be. The eerie image made Lilly’s skin crawl, and a cold shudder trickled down her spine. She stood frozen in place, unable to move. The woman turned and floated up the stairs, the morning light passing through her like sunlight through smoke.

Sensing no threat, Lilly slowly followed the woman who never looked back or hesitated. Did she know Lilly was there?

At the top of the stairs, the woman disappeared, fading through one of the bedroom doors. A young woman’s frantic voice begged from behind the wall. “Hurry! Fetch the doctor right away! Something’s terribly wrong!”

Lilly jumped back, spun around, clambered down the stairs, and scurried back through the house. Whose voice was that? Once outside, Lilly rushed down the gravel road, adrenalin coursing through her veins, and glanced back. Who was that woman? She ran past Hawkes Pond then leapt across the shallow end of Dillehay Crossing, her mind racing. Just who were the farmers who had once cared for the land on the other side of Dillehay Crossing? Lilly sprinted along the creek’s edge until her own front porch was in sight. Why did they abandon their farm? Lilly stopped, bent over with her hands on her knees, and caught her breath. Was the family in any way related to her husband and the Mason family? Lilly straightened. I’ll have to ask Nick. But will he believe me if I tell him about the woman? She pursed her lips and squinted up at the morning sun rising above the eastern horizon. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him about the woman just yet.

“Where have you been?” A familiar voice shouted out, disrupting her thoughts.

Lilly turned in the direction of the voice and smiled at Nick with his unruly hair, still shirtless, standing on the front porch with a mug of hot coffee in his hand.

“I’ve been out for my morning run,” she shouted, striding toward him at a fast-pace.

“You were gone for over an hour, and I was worried about you running alone.” He came down the porch steps to meet her and swept her against him for a morning kiss.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, Nick. I always carry my pepper spray in my pocket.” Lilly wrapped her arms around his chiseled body and gazed upward into his eyes. “Running alone helps me sort things out; I just had a lot on my mind. That’s all. Besides,” she said in a thrilled voice, “I discovered the most fascinating old farmhouse on the other side of Dillehay Crossing!”

“What? You didn’t go inside it, did you?” He pulled away from her, a scowl darkening his face.

“Well, yes Nick, I did.”

“But didn’t you see the ‘NO TRESPASSING’ sign?” he asked, his voice suddenly edgy.

“No, I didn’t. But you won’t believe what I saw!” Lilly’s voice trembled with excitement.

“You need to stay clear of that place, you hear me!” Nick’s threatening tone made Lilly pull back.

“But why, Nick? You know I love exploring old houses and learning about their history. This one reminds me of Nana Dulce’s old farmhouse—the place where I lived until I moved to Texas with Grammy.” Lilly tilted his coffee mug and stole a sip of coffee, trying to placate him. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“Seriously, Lady Bug! Don’t go down there! Granddaddy Dave doesn’t like folks poking around that place. Nasty rabies-infested varmints and vicious critters lurk in that old house, and one of them might bite you. People die from rabies! It’s just too dangerous for you to explore by yourself.” Nick grabbed Lilly’s arm and tightened his fingers around it.

“Stop, Nick. You’re hurting me!” Lilly yanked her arm away.

“There’s something just not right about that place.” Nick’s expression hardened. “I don’t want you to go near it ever again!”

“Honestly, Nick, I don’t understand why you’re so hostile about an old, broken-down, empty house.”

“It may be empty, but there’s something menacing hidden within its walls. I felt it that time I was trapped inside.”

“Trapped? Inside?” Lilly’s eyes widened. “Why? What happened? How long were you inside? ”

“Oh gosh. Hmmm…let me think. Oh, I remember. I reckon I was about 10 years old; I was riding my horse along the creek’s edge when I noticed these heavy, dark clouds boiling across the sky. I figured I needed to find shelter before the storm broke loose. I rolled my spurs across my horse’s side making a dash for the barn, but a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree. A split second later, thunder roared across the property spooking my horse. He bucked; threw me to the ground; and fled to the barn forcing me to seek refuge in that vacant old house until the storm passed.”

“Oh, Nick!” Lilly interrupted him. “You escaped into that old house during a thunderstorm! You never told me. How delightful! Tell me more.” Lilly danced in place. “What did you do? What did you see? What did you hear?”

“No way!” Nick turned away and marched up the porch steps. “I’m not encouraging you and your crazy imagination. Your Grammy warned me!”

“Oh, come on, Nick.” Lilly followed him up the porch steps, playfully tugging on his jeans’ back pocket. “Pretty please. Tell me more.”

Nick sat down on one of the porch steps; turned his face away from Lilly; drew his chin toward his shoulder; and stared at the old structure off in the distance.

“Well,” he turned toward her slightly, “alright. I’ll finish the story as long as you promise me you won’t go over there ever again.”

“Okay, Nick.” Lilly scooted closer to him kissing him on the cheek. “I promise,” she said with a slightly mutinous look on her face.

“Well, after my horse threw me, I made a beeline for that old house; once safely inside, the front door slammed behind me leaving me in total darkness. For a minute or two I could make out nothing at all except dark lumps of old, broken furniture. After my eyes adjusted, I took a few cautionary steps toward a semi-lit room in the center of the house and opened the door. When I did, the air suddenly chilled, and I froze in place. As I stood there, I caught a woody scent lingering in the air that reminded me of my father’s cigar smoke. I glanced around the room and noticed a small beam of light streaming through a crack from one of the boarded-up windows.” A wedge of fear tightened Nick’s throat muscles. “And that’s when,” he swallowed hard. “I saw him….”

“Saw whom, Nick? You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies!”

“…the shadowy figure of a man,” Nick continued. “He darted out the front door, mounted a black horse, and rode it through the pelting rain and headed toward town.”

“I can’t believe it.” Lilly whooped. “You saw a ghost rider! Marvelous!”

“Well, at least I thought I did. Remember, Lilly, I was just a cold, frightened kid trapped alone inside a spooky, old house during a thunderstorm. The storm and the house’s sinister atmosphere triggered my imagination making me believe I saw a man climb onto his horse and flee toward town.” Nick stiffened his neck and shoulders. “You know as well as I do that ghosts don’t exist. Ghosts are just figments of our imagination.”

Lilly broke eye contact with Nick and decided not to tell him about the woman she’d seen. “Well, do you know who once lived there? Were they Masons?”

“Sorry, Lady Bug, I don’t know much,” he stood up, “except the little Granddaddy Dave’s told me. I believe his sister, Francine, and her husband, Robert, once lived there. But no one’s lived on that property since sometime in the 1930s—a long time before I was born. You’d have to talk to Granddaddy Dave about them and that old place. I understand you want to know more about us Masons, but I’m warning you.” A teasing smile crossed his face. “He’s a crusty ol’ galoot who doesn’t like talking about that house or that side of the family—something about bad blood and all.”

“Now you’ve really piqued my curiosity, but fair enough,” Lilly said tossing her hair with a turn of her head. “I’ll just have to wait for the right time.”

“Then it’s settled for now. They’ll be no more talk about that old house. So how about some breakfast?” He took Lilly’s hand and led her up the porch and into the kitchen. “Look.” Nick sat down at the breakfast bar, picked up a plate of food, and waved it under her nose. “I cooked the traditional Mason breakfast—crispy bacon, fried eggs, and biscuits with cream gravy.”

“Oh, Nick! That’s an awful lot of food for one gal to eat.”

“But didn’t you say you wanted to be a Mason?”

“Well, uh, yes,” Lilly said, her voice trailing off.

“This breakfast is a sure-fired way to make you feel like a true Mason. Promise!” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Lady Bug, why don’t you come and sit next to me while you’re eating and tell me what’s been troubling you.”

“Okay, fine. I guess I can eat a few bites.” Lilly slid into one of the chairs scooching it closer to Nick. “I’m was just thinking about Frank, our newest Hickory Pines resident. Something about him concerns me.”

“But you get new residents all the time. Why does this particular man worry you?”

“We know so little about him. He simply showed up quite mysteriously one day, climbing out of a taxicab with only two suitcases, a drawing table, and a box of art supplies. He paid cash upfront for a two-year lease on a furnished apartment, asking specifically for one that overlooked Hawkes Pond and Dillehay Crossing. He dismissed me when I asked him about his family and history, only telling me he takes arthritis medication and suffers from reoccurring bouts with gout. At first I thought he was merely some sort of aging eccentric artist who wanted seclusion and privacy.” Lilly nibbled on a piece of bacon then pushed her plate aside. “But truth be told, I find him, well…uh…what’s the word I’m looking for here?” Lilly twirled her hair with her fingers. “Unsettling.”

Nick reached for Lilly’s hands, clasping hers in his. “Why’s that, my Darlin’?”

“I’ve encountered him just a couple of times. But when I have, he blows his vile cigar smoke in my eyes; raises one eyebrow; and then just stares back at me with his dark, brooding eyes.” Lilly’s chest tightened with apprehension. “And his stare. Well, it’s the most contemptuous and lethal one I’ve ever seen.”

“He sounds pretty scary to me.” Nick ate a slice of bacon off Lilly’s plate. “I’m no expert, Lady Bug, but maybe Frank’s having trouble coping with his pain and adjusting to his new life in an assisted living center.”

“That’s entirely possible, but many of our residents have similar afflictions and aren’t rude or demeaning and most certainly aren’t mean-spirited.” Lilly shifted in her chair and glanced around the room as if looking for answers. “Yet, in my heart of hearts, I believe there’s more ailing Frank than his disease. I sense he’s a broken man with a troubled soul.”

“Why don’t you keep a respectable distance from him until you know more about him?”

“That’s the point, Nick.” Lilly tapped her index finger against her lip. “For some inexplicable reason, I’m drawn to him and have trouble distancing myself from him. I guess I just hate to see him suffer.”

“So, what do you think you should do?”

“I don’t know.” Lilly’s voice choked with emotion. “I just wish I could find a way to reach him and help him. That’s all.”

Nick patted her hand gently. “I admire your affinity for the elderly, Lady Bug. I truly do. Perhaps you should just be patient with him. Maybe that would be enough for now.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in keeping a ‘wait and see attitude’ and looking for ways to reach him.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

Lilly showered and dressed for work and returned to the kitchen where she found Nick sitting at the counter sipping on his coffee.

“Thanks, Honey Bear, for listening to me.” She smiled into his caring eyes. “What’s in store for the resident architect today?”

“Still preparin’ those site plans and floor plans for the new city hall. I’ll probably swing by Cooper’s office later this afternoon with the revisions he wanted. What about you?”

Just then the telephone rang. “Hello.” Nick answered the phone. “Oh, hi, Granddaddy Dave . . . yes, Lilly’s here . . .Yes, sir, I certainly do. Uh…I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her. Wait just a second; let me put you on speaker phone."

“This is your ol’ Granddaddy Dave here. Hadn’t talked with you youngins since your weddin’ day.” Granddaddy Dave’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Lilly, is my grandson treatin’ you right? You know,” he stammered just a bit, “that Nick’s got a bit of a temper, and he’s a stubborn one—like all us Mason men. But his dad and me, we raised him to be right and proper and to treat women respectable. Remember, you’re kin now. So, you need to tell me if he mistreats you in anyway, you hear!” He gave a throaty chuckle. “You’re kinfolk now, and we Masons we takes care of our kinfolk—no matter what.”

“Sure thing, Granddaddy Dave.” She gave Nick a grin. “Not to worry. Nick’s right respectful—most of the time.” She threw Nick a flirtatious glance.

“Well, my Relda and me are plannin’ the Mason family Fourth of July barbeque and shindig. You youngins are coming, ain’t cha?”

“Yes, Granddaddy, we’ll be there.” Nick winked at Lilly.

“And grandson, remember you’re drivin’ me to Ft. Worth this Saturday. Time for our annual trip to the livestock auction and the stockyards. And I’ll be a needin’ your help in buyin’ the beef for the shindig.

“I remember, Granddaddy Dave. I’ll pick you up at sunup.

“Now Lilly, me ‘n Nick will be gone from sunup till sundown. So don’t you be worrin’ none. Now mind ya, we’re gonna be doin’ some boot scootin’ at this shindig. You has a pair of cowboy boots, some jeans, and a western shirt don’t cha?”

“Afraid not, Granddaddy Dave. I can get me some western clothes between now and then, though.”

“Tell you what. You give my Relda a call. She’s got more boots than she can rightly wear. I’m a guessin’, but she’s probably got a pair of boots that’d fit you. Nick, have you taught your bride how to country western dance yet?”

“Afraid not, Granddaddy. Don’t you worry now. Lilly’s a quick learner and a determined woman. And once she gets them boots, I’ll give her a few lessons. Before you know it, she’ll be scootin’ better than any of us Masons and makin’ them splinters fly—just you wait ‘n see.”

“No doubt, grandson! Your Lilly’s gonna make for a fine woman. Now Lilly, you be sure and invite your Grammy to our shindig, you here. She’s part of the family now and is always welcome.”

“I’ll let Grammy know, Granddaddy Dave. She’ll be delighted, I’m sure.”

“And, Lilly, there ain’t no need to give my Relda a call; I’ll tell her you’ll be swingin’ by this afternoon to try on some boots. Will that be alright?”

“Most certainly!” Lilly said with astoundment in her voice.

“Well, suppose I’ll be hangin’ up now so you youngins can get to work. Jest one more thing. You know the doc told me I ought not to be drivin’—my reflexes just ain’t what they used to be. And I’ll be needin’ some extra smokes for the Fourth of July shindig. So when one of you drives through town, would cha’ mind stoppin’ and buyin’ me some of my cigars at the smoke shop? I’d be mighty grateful.”

“Sure thing, Granddaddy; we’d be happy to run that errand for you.”

“Just a couple of boxes of them Cuesta Reys. Appreciate it. Bye now.”

Nick hung up the telephone, turned to Lilly, and rubbed his hand under his chin. “Hmmm…Granddaddy Dave sure seems comfortable with you—like he’s accepted you as family.”

“That’s fantastic! I’ve always wanted a real family and do so want to be a Mason. Besides, he’s a likable ol’ guy…like the grandfather I wish I’d had.”

“He’s downright protective of Nana Relda and doesn’t invite just anyone over to their house. Yet, he told you to ‘swing by and see his Relda.’ That’s huge!” Nick reached over and hugged Lilly.

“Then I’ll be sure and see Relda this afternoon. I don’t want to disappoint Granddaddy Dave.”

“You know, Lady Bug, I believe she just might have a pair of red boots that’ll fit you—perfect for a cowgirl like you!” He flashed her an impish grin. “You be sure and ask her about them.”

“Red? Don’t you think red is a little gaudy for me?”

“Absolutely not! Those boots are beautiful and practically brand new—made from authentic alligator skin—a gift from Granddaddy Dave last Christmas.”

“EEEW! Alligator skin! Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry, Lady Bug. They won’t bite cha.” He picked up Lilly and spun her in a circle. “Honestly, those red boots are colorful and classy—just like you.” Nick eased her to the ground. “Time for cowboy kisses!” He drew her into his arms and nibbled on both of Lilly’s ears.

“Honey Bear,” she giggled, “you certainly know how to sweep a cowgirl off her feet! But I don’t know about this whole cowgirl thing. It’s not really my style. I’m more of the city girl type.”

“Well, if you want to be a true Mason then you gotta at least dress the part.”

“Then a cowgirl I’ll be.” Lilly flung back her hair, strutted around the kitchen, and pretended to primp. “So exactly where does a classy cowgirl like me shop for a pair of western jeans and a western shirt?”

“We Masons buy our western wear at Dusty’s.” He grabbed a piece of scratch paper and scribbled a map for Lilly. “You can’t miss it; it’s right here—downtown just across the street from the smoke shop.”

“Okay. I suppose I could stop on my way home and try on those western clothes. Oh!” A whimsical little smile quirked her mouth.” I have a simply fabulous idea! As long as I’m in town, why don’t I stop at the smoke shop and pick up those cigars for Granddaddy Dave?”

“Now that’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant!” A teasing look crossed his face. “You’re such a clever genie; he’ll never figure you out!”

“Whatever do you mean, sir?”

“You’ll score some major points with Granddaddy Dave for buying his cigars and taking them to him this afternoon. And I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’ll get on his good side then ask him about that old dilapidated farm house near Dillehay Crossing.”

“Well, you saw right through me, didn’t you, Honey Bear?” Lilly leaned towards him and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

“Yep!” he said, ruffling her hair playfully. “If you want to pull off this little caper, you’ll need to buy the brand of cigars he smokes.” Nick opened a kitchen drawer; riffled through its contents; retrieved a half-empty box of Cuesta Reys; and handed one of them to Lilly. “Take this with you and give it to Hal at Spirits & Smokes. He’ll fix you right up.”

“Nick, are those your cigars?”

“Well, ahem…yes, Lilly, they are.” His chin dropped to his chest. “I occasionally smoke one with Granddaddy Dave. It’s not a big deal, but smoking cigars is a Mason men’s family tradition of sorts.”

“You Masons are just full of little surprises.” A glimmer of laughter came into her eyes. “I have a lot to learn about this family, don’t I?”

“Yep, ‘fraid so!”

Lilly glanced at her watch. “Gosh! It’s time for me to head to work.”

“Oh!” Nick looked at his own watch. “It is late! I need to review those site plans before talking with Cooper. “But first let me walk you to your car.” Nick placed his arm around Lilly’s waist, and together they walked to her car. He opened Lilly’s car door; kissed her; and said, “Don’t let Frank intimidate you. You’ve got great instincts, especially when it comes to the elderly. So trust your instincts, and you’ll know what to say and do. He’ll come around. How could he not with someone as sweet and caring as you.”

“Thanks, Honey Bear! You know how to make a gal feel confident.” Lilly turned the key in her car’s ignition; backed out of her driveway; and turned onto the adjacent gravel road. She drove down the windy road through the Mason property relishing the warm shafts of light that filtered through the giant, old pecan trees that stared back at her like motionless statues. What stories could these ancient trees tell me about the former inhabitants of Dillehay Creek?

Through the trees, Lilly caught a glimpse of Dillehay Creek itself and the old dilapidated farm house and barn that she’d seen earlier that morning. The sunlight faded behind the trees, creating shadows and dark patches along the gravel road; eyes seemed to glimmer from the hollows of the pecan trees. And there in the middle ground between the shadows and the light, Lilly saw the shadowy figure of a man on a black horse racing from the farm house toward town.

The hair stood up on the back of Lilly’s neck. What was that? She rubbed the goosebumps off her arms. Did I just see the same ghost rider Nick saw as a kid? Maybe Grammy’s right; maybe my crazy imagination’s playing tricks on me again and getting the best of me. Before turning onto the main highway and making the short drive to Hickory Pines, Lilly glimpsed into her rearview mirror.

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