The House on Serpent Lake (Ghost, Romance, Fantasy) by Brenda Hill Page B

began to dance around the room in big, slow circles.
    Suddenly, the lights winked on and off. The music stopped. She halted and, heart sinking, stared at the Victrola. Was it a short circuit?
    Before she could check, the lights clicked back on and the machine whirled to life again.
    She closed her eyes and, humming along with the music, and began her dance again.
    The air thickened, and when whispers of the familiar fragrance wafted to her, she felt joyous. Large male hands gently led her in big open circles.
    How she loved waltzing with him.
    She opened her eyes, but as soon as she did, his touch faded and she was alone in the parlor.
    “Eric?” She glanced around the room.
    He opened the front door. “Sorry about that. It couldn’t be helped. Ready to go?”
    He couldn’t have been outside; he had danced with her. She had felt him.
    “Weren’t you just here? Dancing with me?”
    “I just got off the phone. Let’s go.”
    She stared at him as if searching for an explanation.
    “Lindsay, not now. Let’s just enjoy the day.” Obviously he thought she wanted to talk again, and just as obviously, he didn’t.
    But that wasn’t why she was quiet. If she hadn’t seen Eric come in from outside, she wouldn’t have believed he hadn’t been dancing with her. After an uneasy glance around the room, she ran out the door.
    Eric followed her out. On the beach, he took her hand and helped her into the boat.
    “Honey, you’re trembling. What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing, really.” She stared at the house. What was it about the house that was causing her imagination to soar?
    She thought about the stories she’d told when she was very young, stories about another time and another life, of a lover and tragedy, but as she grew older and people began reacting to her stories with ridicule and scorn, the fantasies stopped and faded into memories. In time, even the memories disappeared.
    What was bringing them to life now? She didn’t need the old fantasies to return, couldn’t bear the derision on Eric’s face. Especially not now, not when they were having personal problems.
    He pushed the boat off the beach, jumped in, and they drifted until he yanked the cord for the motor. When it buzzed to life, he putt-putted them to the middle of the lake. It was nice, Lindsay thought, like gliding over water, but when he cranked it up and they took off, she forgot everything except the thrill of the ride.
    Sitting in the front of the small boat, she rode close to the surface and loved the splashing sound the bow made cutting through the water, loved the wind on her face and even loved the earthy, fishy smell of the lake. Never before had she experienced anything so exhilarating. She lifted her face to the sky and felt such peace and happiness in her heart that she wanted to shout with the joy of it.
    “Can we go faster?”
    Eric laughed. “I don’t want to open her up yet. It’s better to take it a little slower to see how she handles.”
    Serpent Lake teamed with life. They cruised by patches of tiny flying insects swarming in circles, and they witnessed a fish jump to snatch one of the bugs out of the air. Seagulls cried above them and crows cawed next to the treed shore.
    “Oh look!” she cried, pointing to a large bluish-colored bird about three feet tall perched on a half-submerged log near the bank. Its long slim neck was curved like an ‘s’ and its wings were a bluish-gray.
    “A blue heron,” Eric said. “Feeds on fish and frogs.”
    As they approached, the bird took flight and its wingspan appeared six feet wide. Lindsay watched it glide over the far shore and thought again how different this part of the country was from where she grew up. She wondered if she’d ever get tired of exploring, of her delight in discovering something new.
    They passed boats of all sizes, ranging from the smaller fishing ones like they had to the larger cruisers. Exploring the length of Serpent Lake, Lindsay couldn’t get over the