And Then There Was

by Tabitha12

By Amanda and Mary. Day On story. A new face comes to Schooner Bay, causing a surprising reaction from a highly unlikely source. However, the show must go on.

1. Chapter 1

Note from the authors, MARY AND AMANDA:

This story takes place in the GAMM From This Day On Universe. If you are new to this GAMM Extended Universe, there is a list of stories at the end of the second chapter that you might want to read also. The stories, read in order, explain where all the characters came from, how they know the Ghost and Mrs. Muir, how they got to Schooner Bay, and why they stay.

Any canon characters who appeared in the original series belong to NBC, ABC, RA Dick, (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) etc. The rest belong to Amanda or Mary. Their names may be derived to honor more famous people, But they have a character all their own in this world. Bronwyn is modeled after no one in particular, we just like her. The plays mentioned in this story all belong to their authors.

And Then There Was…

Mary and Amanda

October, 1982 Gull Cottage, Maine

"I trust you'll be able to keep busy while the crew and I are at the meeting?" Captain Gregg asked his wife as he, Sean O'Casey, Molly O'Casey, and Lord Charles Dashire prepared to depart for a spectral fraternity meeting. They planned to leave as soon as Tristan Matthews arrived.

"Of course," Carolyn Muir-Gregg smiled. "I'm not a helpless female, after all! Besides, I thought I'd finish up that sewing I started for Amberly that SOMEONE keeps distracting me from." Her green eyes twinkled at her ghostly husband.

As the other two men chuckled, Molly looked around. "Where is Tristan? He's supposed to give that teaching session on how to sleep. That's one of the main reasons we're going, don't you know."

Frowning in concentration, the Captain sent out a minor query to the ether. A moment later, Tristan appeared. "You rang?" He grinned and saluted.

"We're going to be late to the spectral fraternity meeting if we don't get a move on," Daniel informed him. "And we're waiting for you. Fontenot is meeting us there..."

"And your brother is doing something with the horses, of course," Sean added. "Foaling, I think he mentioned a breech birth, and a possible all-night session. Emphasis on I think. You know how fast he talks, and he was in a hurry."

"I think Sig invents equine emergencies to get out of things," Tristan muttered. Then in a more audible tone he continued. "But, I'm not going either. So you can go on."

"You have to go!" Dash exclaimed. "It's YOUR lecture, after all."

"Come on, you guys have been to less than a handful, Amberly's handful at that, of meetings in the last dozen years," Tristan shot back. "Why are you going now and trying to force me also?"

"He's got a point. Why don't you all go? I enjoyed the ones I attended back in Ireland," Molly asked softly. "'Twas nice to have company."

"That is why, dear friend," Daniel smiled. With a fond glance at his wife, then at his friends, he admitted, "My need for company has been satisfied with my family of late. I will agree with Tris." He pulled on his earlobe. "They are boring affairs."

"Aha!" Tristan smirked, drifting to the ceiling, where he reclined on an air pocket.

"Get down," Carolyn instructed, pointing a finger at him.

For her, he did without argument.

"Give me one good reason why we should let you avoid it," Daniel commanded. "You are, after all, supposed to make a presentation."

"I can do better than that, my Captain," Tristan smiled. "One, they bore me to death, and I'm dead enough already. Two, I don't like being bored, it can be dangerous. My mind wanders off to think of mischief, you know, when I'm stricken by ennui. Three, I don't like meetings, period. Four, I don't make speeches. Five, when the older ghosts see me, they see a kid. I could make myself appear as venerable as Fontenot, and they would STILL see a kid. No one likes being instructed by a kid. On the other hand, Sir, your mere presence demands respect with only a look. Therefore, I humbly give you the honor, dubious though it may be, of giving the lecture." He bowed smartly. Then, on rising, he added, "Besides, what if Candy and Thom have some emergency? He is still convalescing. Having a ghost free, especially one who drives, can be good."

"Dash, Adam has corrupted the boy," Daniel growled. Sighing profoundly, he looked in annoyance at Tristan. "Very well. However, the last point is the only one that is worth anything."

Tristan shrugged. "Long as one of them does."

Shaking his head, Captain Gregg bent to kiss his wife. "We will see you subsequently, my dear."

Then, the four ghosts vanished.

"Stay a while, Tris, and keep me company," Carolyn suggested.

"Of course. Those things tend to run long. Older spooks have no sense of time," the young man shook his head and took a seat. "So, what can I do for you, Mrs. Captain?" Tristan asked genially, scratching Dakota's ears.

"Actually," Carolyn said, "I was going to ask you that very question. What can I do for you?"

Looking amazed, Tristan asked, "Whatever do you mean?"

Carolyn laid the sewing she had picked up back down in her lap. "Tris, I know you've been visiting Candy and Thom a good bit." She paused to give him a significant look, then went on, "It's not easy being a care-giver."

"Which is why I'm visiting, partly," Tristan interjected. "Not to be immodest, but I am rather good at evoking a laugh or two. Even back in the hospital, you could tell, Thom's mood was starting to go black and blue. That's not good, for either of them, so, I thought maybe I could keep them both out of the doldrums. Besides, it gives him and me a chance to become friends. Thom is important to a lot of people I care about, and Candy and I agreed to — try to be friends again."

Carolyn nodded. "I'm glad. How's it going?"

"I think," the young man said thoughtfully, "that it is going well. Adam really does need Candy at work, and Lynne, Jess, and Blackie all do have jobs, so someone needs to pop in on him yet. He's getting stir crazy, bored. We talk, play cards, and watch television. I won't say we're best friends, like Dave and me, but we're not enemies. AND, thank heavens, the glares have ended. I always hoped that would happen, though the circumstances COULD have been more ideal. I do think he's getting sick of the hovering. I understand he's insisted that Candy attend the poker and ladies' night tomorrow, and he seems to enjoy hearing updates on how the play of Claymore's is doing."

Mrs. Gregg nodded. "And Then There Were None, right?" At Tristan's "yes," she added, "How IS it going?"

Tristan sighed profoundly. "I guess not that badly, except it really is truly lousy timing to be doing a play. In my humble opinion, we should have cancelled, but Claymore refused, and..."

"You did try out and promise to do it before Thom's accident happened," Carolyn nodded. "I was glad that Candy turned down the Vera Claythorne role. With all that's gone on, she'd have to pull out."

"Molly will do just fine," Tris nodded. "With Sean doing Lombard, it's a natural anyway. Molly and Sean appearing together always works. Those two light up a stage regardless what they do. Strange not to hear them sing together, though. Their big challenge in this show is trying to sound more English than Irish!"

"Well, Sean did sound like a proper Britisher as Freddie Eynsford Hill, and Molly certainly managed Eliza," Carolyn grinned. "With a certain amount of coaching, that is."

"Yes, and my dear brother is having a ball doing William Blore, because he doesn't have to work too hard on a Cockney accent," Tris added. "He's even made it part of his character to talk too fast, but Claymore, and everyone else in the cast, is still telling him to slow down. I doubt he will EVER get that message."

"Tell me again who everyone is playing," Carolyn prompted. "I know Claymore told me, but I really don't remember, and had my mind on other things, mostly Thom and Candy, at the time. You are playing Anthony Marston, right?"

"Right. But it's Prince Nikita Starloff, and Dash might make me regret it with all his 'your highnesses,' and teasing me about singing the Indian's song. I'm nervous enough about that as it is. Martha and Ed are Thomas and Ethel Rogers, of course. Abner Dawes is General Sir John Mandrake. He's really doing quite well. Norrie is Judge Francis J. Quinncannon. Michael Post has a bit as Fred Naracott, the boatman, Darlene Hassen-pickle whatever-her-name is Emily Brent, and, that reminds me, if she tries to set me up with that child of hers one more time, I'll take my head off, like Elroy did once. Doctor Armstrong you know — Fontenot. He just laughs when he sees me ducking Darlene and Penny. He says, 'Why do you think I chose one of my more venerable faces for this? I'm too… not young… to be in any shark's line of sight'." He shook his head. "I still have trouble believing that Fontenot actually wanted to try out!"

"Excuse me, Tris," Carolyn held up a hand and looked puzzled. "I've seen that play, and that wasn't your character's name in it. "I thought it was General McKenzie, not Mandrake, the Judge's name is Wargrave, and I didn't think your character sang..."

The seaman grinned. "Our director has been smushing the play and the 1945, I think, movie together into a "new, improved version," to use HIS words. Of course, as Martha tells it, it could be worse. He could have written it all."

"Martha is very wise," Carolyn smiled. "As far as the song goes, you will be fine. You have a good voice. And as for Fontenot, whether he will admit it or not, likes people, or is getting more used to them, at any rate, and I think he counts the theater as another type of diversion, maybe, especially as he hasn't had to tutor any spirits lately, not since Elroy. He must get bored at times, too, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Tris nodded. "Could be, I suppose. I'll tell you, I'm glad Fontenot is the teacher around here."

"How so?" Carolyn asked, frowning.

"Teachers have to have an extraordinary amount of patience, and after three-hundred plus years, Fontenot is a master."

"In what respect?"

"In spite of everyone's better judgement, he is letting Claymore run the show and do the directing," Tris sighed. "And even for an old war-horse of a play, as I understand it, I don't think it's going as well as it might, and Claymore is driving me nuts."

"You, or everyone?" Carolyn grinned, remembering her theater experience with her former landlord.

"Everyone, I guess," Tris shrugged. "He's treating it more like a DRAMA than a mystery, which are two different things, really. He still doesn't have the show completely blocked, and by now it should be. I practically had to do my own. He thinks he wants to change the ending a bit. As written, it is kinda corny, but he hasn't decided how yet, and he's back to some other old tricks, according to Martha."

"Old tricks?"

"You know — going on, and on about motivation, tempo, his 'experience in the theatah, dahling,' all that stuff when he hasn't a clue, and if he calls me 'Tristan, my boy,' or Molly, or Martha or ANYONE 'Honey-baby-sweetie-pie-baby cupcake' one more time, I think I am going to flatten him. He's driving me to homicide!"

Carolyn shook her head. "Old tricks, indeed. Fontenot hasn't given him one of his looks yet?"

"He's coming close," Tris shrugged again. "But when I whispered something to him, he maintained Clay was the director, and that means we have to at least put up with him, if not agree with him, and since he is still new at acting, he didn't feel as if he could correct yet. Also he said he doesn't know Agatha Christie's work as well as Alfred Hitchcock, and maybe Claymore might be right."

"Well, that is confoundedly agreeable for Fontenot," Carolyn laughed. "I'll bet if push comes to shove, he will say something, though. Or your brother will. Maybe things will get better; after all, My Fair Lady ended up doing well — terrific, in fact."

"I hope!" Tristan sighed again. "Rehearsals started on October first, and we have another thirteen days before the show. I just wish we could practice every night, but with community theater, you just can't do that. Everyone in the cast has other commitments, including spirits, and the entire cast does not consist of ghosts, so it's not like we can work eighteen hour days like when we were fixing up Jess and Adam's house. We have to skip a night occasionally, like tonight, with the fraternity meeting, and because we haven't had a poker night in ages, we are doing that tomorrow and having a Saturday rehearsal. That works better this week for Darlene, Abner, Norrie, and Michael, too, and it probably won't be the last Saturday one, either. The show goes on one way or the other Halloween weekend," Tris continued. "Friday the 29th and Saturday the 30th. We're almost sold out now, because everyone thinks it will be as good as Lady, so there is no way we can cancel…"

"Do you think you will need to?" Carolyn's eyebrows shot up. "Is it really that bad?"

Tris shrugged again. "I hope not, but I DO wish the Captain could watch a rehearsal and put a bug in old Clay's ear — NOW before things go too far. The money is going to the Seaman's home, and you KNOW what your husband will say if there is a disappointed audience."

"Something loud…" Carolyn laughed. "…I have no doubt. So, tell me all. Every last detail. Maybe then I can let Daniel know what is happening, and he can talk to Claymore as no one else can! But, I'd best not tell him to put a bug in Clay's ear. He did give him an irate bumblebee after Claymore's first play!"

"Okay, thanks, "Tristan began, "I am worried, just a bit. For openers, Molly and Sean have all their dialogue memorized. I do, so does Fontenot, and Sig does… he just has to learn to say it slower. But, blast it, this is a drama, and a mystery. It's supposed to take place at a big old house on an island, and there is a lot of blocking involved, the sets are complicated, and Claymore is changing his mind every other day about what he wants. Even if ninety-percent of the audience knows who dun it, it all still has to makes sense. We have Claymore with his cupcake routine, and Darlene Hassenpepper thinks Emily ought to be nicer — not so old maidish spinsterish and mean — and it is a real shame that she is going to get murdered. We keep telling her that's the idea, but she's being a REAL pain. I wish the Captain were acting in this, too. He could shut Darlene up. Claymore too. I'm glad all I have to do is play the Indian's song before I 'die,' but I tell you that feels weird. Not the dying — I mean. I can sing, but not like Sean and Molly can! I know you say don't panic, but you aren't the one up there singing, and I still think SOMEONE in the audience is going to say, "Why are YOU singing? Sean and Molly should be singing," and not only that…"

Carolyn nodded and listened. Clearly she was right in her thinking. Tristan Matthews had a lot to talk about. She did have to laugh when Tris said, getting back to Claymore, "You know, if he ever calls ME cupcake, I'll have to get Martha to make a pan of them, and every time he says the word, shove one in his mouth."

"Lynne might get upset. His diet is supposed to be controlled," Carolyn advised.

"Yeah. The idea of him as a ghost is all that's saving his life, some days."

The two chatted for a good while more. During their talk, the mail came, bringing with it a stiff envelope of photos from Jon. Back in September, he had come home for a weekend to celebrate Amberly's birthday, and had made pictures. The two looked over the shots, and when Tris left, he took a set home to the baby's parents.

XXX

Moments after their departure, the four ghosts reappeared in the great hall of the spectral fraternity.

"Touch ostentatious, isn't it?" Sean commented to Molly. "I think they've done some redecorating."

"It has been a while since we were here," Captain Gregg reminded him.

"Looks like a good turnout," Dash noted. "I see Fontenot."

"Aye, and there's Elroy," Molly smiled.

"I think Tris and Sig are the only ones not here," her husband nodded. "Say, Danny, isn't that Trevor Norfolk? I didn't know he was a ghost."

Daniel peered in the direction his oldest friend was pointing. "Indeed it is! He was a cabin boy at the same time we were! I say, hadn't thought of him in ages!"

"Go on and see him then, I can tell you're both itchin' to," Molly shooed them. "I want to look around. And, Dash…"

"Don't mind me, I'll find someone to chat up," the nobleman waved a dismissive hand at them. "Have fun."

Time didn't really have any relevance. People were seeing friends that they had not seen in decades, or centuries, in some cases. Finally, a ghost who had the air of one who would look old even if he only appeared to be a child took the podium. By this time, Daniel and his closest friends had regrouped and were standing together while waiting for Daniel to give his demonstration. Molly was talking about a new friend she had made — a woman in the theatre business.

"Looks like things are starting to get underway," Dash noted, adjusting his cuffs.

"Friends, ghosts, and countrymen," the old ghost began in a stentorian voice, "welcome to the fourteen-hundred and fifth meeting of the New England Area Spectral Fraternity. I see we have some old friends joining us." The spirit stopped and cleared his throat. "I apologize in advance, but the agenda for the meeting tonight is rather full…"

"Hrmph," Fontenot snorted. "If I'd recalled HE was president this century, I'd have not come."

"Oh?" Molly asked, puzzled.

"Old fuddy-duddy, that's what he is…"

"Shh," Elroy whispered.

Tris had been right. Within minutes, Daniel realized why he had stopped coming to fraternity meetings to begin with. Humans were much more interesting, especially the ones he had been associating with. One look at Sean and Dash confirmed that they were feeling the same way he was... and underneath it all was the underlying concern about whether they would be needed by Thom and Candy while they were unreachable.

Painfully, Daniel and crew listened while the meeting droned on, discussing such topics as, What To Do If The Humans In Your House Hire a Medium, Finding a Nice Haunt, Timing Scare Tactics, and Halloween — an event that the specters looked forward to, for many and assorted reasons.

"Now, before we get to the trancing demonstration, any more new business?" the president spoke up. When no spirit answered, it looked like they could do the blasted thing and go home.

"Excuse me…" a cultured voice drawled. "I do have something to say before Daniel Gregg and his associates…" he gave the crew a disdainful look. "…Start their dog and pony show."

Fontenot rolled his eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" Daniel started.

"Who is that?" Molly whispered to Fontenot.

"Baron Von Dragon," Fontenot sighed. "A three-hundred-fifty-year-old thorn positioned somewhat lower than my side, sweet lady. He and I have been arguing over the issue of humans and ghosts intermingling for centuries. And if I am not mistaken…"

"What?" Elroy interrupted.

"We'll know in a moment…" Fontenot sighed. "But I have a feeling…"

"I can see that no one else here has the fortitude to say anything, so I will, " the Baron continued, as Daniel glared. "It has come to my attention that a problem is spreading throughout ghostdom. In the last few years, a disturbing phenomenon has begun to plague our little community. Ghosts no longer know their place in this world. In fact, they are openly consorting with humans, even to the point of romance! And getting publicity! Tonight's presentation, if you can call it that, is proof that this is so! Entering a trance simply so you can, if I may put it delicately…" He bowed to the female specters present, including Molly and her new friend, "…BE with a human while they sleep is deplorable, and…"

"Excuse me…" Daniel started. "…But I believe I have the floor?"

The sophisticated ghost merely glared at Daniel Gregg.

"Some things do not change. You can always count on Baron Von Dragon to get on this subject and try to beat it to… death," Fontenot grumbled, too loudly.

"I think old Wolfston was his… disciple, wasn't he?" Dash asked. "Von Dragon — You don't often hear of someone so aptly named," he went on, almost too calmly.

"Oh, Von Dragon isn't his real name," Fontenot said. "Someone nicknamed him that a while back, and it stuck."

"Tristan?" Sean asked. "It sounds like something he'd say."

"Anything sounds like something he'd say," Dash almost smiled. Almost, but not quite. He was getting angry.

"No, but certainly his — spiritual ancestor," Fontenot chuckled.

"What IS his name then?" Molly asked, absently patting Elroy's shoulder to try and calm his shaking.

"No one can recall," Fontenot rumbled.

"... I had hopes that at least one of these delinquents had reformed," Von Dragon was still speaking, "…but it has come to my attention that he is responsible for this… demonstration we are about to witness here. I can see that he doesn't even have the fortitude to show up here in person, and—"

"That tears it!" Daniel growled. Raising his voice, he turned to the Baron. "Sir, while you do have the right to your opinion, I fail to see what gives you the freedom to say that we are some sort of abomination for interacting with humans! We have not harmed them, in fact, the case could be made that we have helped them!"

"Here, here!" his crew echoed.

"Besides, you are interrupting," Elroy squeaked out.

"Right!" Molly chimed in, giving Elroy another pat of encouragement. "The Captain has the floor!"

"I merely want to do this blasted thing and go home," Dash said, looking angrier than any of the other spirits had ever seen him.

"Home! Home you call it!" the Baron blazed. "A place where you consort with humans is not your home!"

"Yes, Lord Dashire…" another voice came from the back of the room. "What right have you to…"

"The same right I have!" Sean cut in. "Where I haunt IS my home, and it is where I'll be forever if the Good Lord sees fit, or not, but it is my home as long as Molly and my friends are there!"

"Friends?" someone yelled. "That's right — you lot go on telling humans right and left about us! How many now? They even had the government after them!"

"If you can call Paul Wilkie government!" Dash spat back.

"And we didn't let him know there are ghosts in this area!" Sean protested. "We sent him to Ireland."

"Callahan's always been very open about being haunted!" Daniel roared. "Blasted proud of having the great ghost of his not-very-great-ancestor chain rattling around the place."

"Still," another voice argued, "you have told—"

"Not to mention married or courted—"

Other shouts joined in with Von Dragon's as pro and con arguments and insults flew. Poor Elroy was shaking like a leaf and trying to hide, but nowhere looked particularly safe.

"Dragon, it's time someone took you down!" Fontenot fumed.

"Who? You?"

"With just my left thumb, you—"

"Can ghosts hit each other?" Elroy hissed, turning almost transparent.

Before the two ancient spirits could lie into each other, an alto voice rose above the tumult.

"Excuse me, but would you all kindly shut up, and stop this nonsense?" A stately female ghost strode forward.

"That's my friend, Bronwyn," Molly softly told Sean.

With a glance at Daniel's crew, she went on. "These good people are hardly the first ghosts to exist as if they were still alive, or the only ones. I've been doing it for, well, a lady does not bandy her age about, but — decades. The theatre is just too much fun to abandon simply because of a little thing like death. They are the first to come up with the idea of trancing, however, and that is the only reason I, for one, am here. I was visiting the area, and heard that this lesson would be given today. It's fascinating. If you, Baron, do not want to know how, fine. I don't think there's to be a... pop quiz, but be SILENT and let those of us who appreciate learning be educated. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if Captain Gregg didn't refuse to instruct such an ungrateful bunch of rabble as this," she sniffed.

The President looked completely flummoxed. Did he risk insulting the Baron by asking the Captain to continue, or risk insulting Daniel Gregg by canceling? Or, the biggest consideration, insult a lady?

Daniel and Sean's old friend, Trevor, spoke up, "I'd like to learn, Cap'n, later, if you want to leave."

A few more mumbles agreed with him, and Daniel turned a look that could be interpreted as a dare or a question to the President.

Faced with this, the creaky spook cleared his throat. "Ah, well, this has run on for some time, but perhaps the Captain and his crew would consent to go on with their… er… demonstration?"

Inclining his head regally, the Captain said, "Of course. As my human friend, Reverend O'Ryan, would say, forgiveness is blessed. One of my crew did invent this, but since there has been illness in my family, we felt that one of us should be on hand to provide instant communication and help if there was an emergency. However, I believe I can do as well as he."

On that note, he gestured for Fontenot, Elroy, and Molly to join him on the dais and thus demonstrate that any ghost, no matter how old, unskilled, or of either sex could achieve this state of rest. He even allowed an audience member to come forward and take a "live" lesson, with admirable results. After that was concluded, Daniel and the others went over to Bronwyn.

"I want to thank you, Miss, for being a voice of reason, as it were, in the chaos," the Captain said chivalrously.

The striking woman smiled. "Not at all, sir. I simply stated the truth." She shrugged, then extended her hand for the Captain to kiss. "I know who you are, of course, from your wonderful instructions, and from Molly. I'm Bronwyn Tegan."

"You mentioned the theatre — you're still active?" Sean asked.

"Yes. I can't stay with one company long, unless I want to age myself." Bronwyn shuddered. "But, moving about is the norm, really, for that line of work. Still, it sounds like you all have a rather sweet set-up… real families."

"That we do," Daniel nodded.

"Would you like to meet them all?" Molly asked her. "Captain, would you mind if we brought Bronwyn home to meet Carolyn, Lynne, and the rest?"

"It is fine with me..." the ghost began.

"But, Molly, love, in the real world, it's nigh on eleven o'clock," Sean reminded her. "I imagine Carolyn's asleep."

"And I do hope Lynne is. She's been exhausting herself since Thom came home from the hospital," Dash frowned.

"Perhaps another night. I'm between… gigs," Bronwyn smiled.

"We'd planned to resume the poker and ladies' night tomorrow," the Captain said, considering. "But there is room for one more."

"If you'll tell me where you're staying, I'll come show the way," Molly offered.

"I'd like that," Bronwyn said. "Now, I believe I'll go haunt a hotel room and try out this trancing. My thanks to you all for teaching me a new trick."

XXX

Sean O'Casey had been right. By the time the four friends said their goodnights and good-byes to the members of the fraternity and materialized back to the mortal plain, it was after eleven p.m. The ghosts went their separate ways from there. Sean and Molly to their cottage, Dash back to the house he had haunted for almost a century that was now occupied by Candy and Thom, and Daniel home to Gull Cottage. Carolyn was dozing by the fire, in the armchair, surrounded by their animals, Tristan having departed some time before.

"Love, will you ever learn that the best place to sleep when you are tired, is our bed?" Daniel smiled, as he spoke the words softly into her ear.

"I wasn't sleeping, I was…"

"Resting, I know," he gazed at her, tenderly.

"How was the meeting?" She yawned the words out. "Anything interesting?"

"Deadly dull for the most part," he said, helping her up out of the chair after removing two indignant cats. "But…"

"That's nice." Carolyn yawned again. Not hearing the "But." "You should go to them more often. It would be fun to go with you some time."

"You have no idea of what you speak, my love," he said soberly. "And I refuse to discuss my boring meeting with you tonight." He started to lead her to the stairs.

"Okay," she said, agreeably, her eyes half-closed, leaning on her husband. "You can tell me how bored you were tomorrow."

They headed for the master cabin, the animals trailing behind them.

XXX

The next morning, Carolyn simply did not have enough time to hear about the debacle at the spectral fraternity meeting. She needed to get half-a-dozen errands done, and when she came home, Martha's vacuum made entirely too much noise for Daniel to relate his story. Then, when the mail came, that reminded Carolyn to show Daniel the pictures from Amberly's first birthday party. In short, by the time Daniel and Carolyn both had a chance to discuss it, the time for the guests to arrive was almost upon them, and there was little point in telling it twice.

Martha was already there. Her husband, Ed, clumped in through the back door as the first true arrival. Sean and Molly popped in long enough for Molly to double-check with Carolyn that it would be all right to bring a friend, then she departed. Tristan entered with Dave, Jenny, and Amberly Farnon. Blackie was close behind, half dragging his aunt, Lynne. His other aunt, Jess, and her husband Adam Pierce had Candy between them, with Dash following behind. Last, but not least, Siegfried and Fontenot appeared.

"You two are going to give us a complex, make us think you don't want our company," Adam chided Lynne and Candy.

"We're just worried about Thom," Lynne frowned.

"Yeah, it's his first night on his own since coming home," Candy nodded.

"And one I will remind you he dearly wanted. We're all guilty of hovering," Blackie reminded them. "And he won't be "all alone." A couple of guys from work were going to be visiting him. Now, my dear aunt and dear cousin, did you really want to watch football with them?"

"Good point," Lynne said.

"Well..." Candy considered, then smiled, "maybe, but… I like you guys better than football. It wouldn't be so bad if there weren't commercials and all the time outs making an hour long game four hours."

"Minimum," Jess agreed.

"Where is Molly?" Dave asked. "Oh, and thanks for sending the pictures, Carolyn."

"Apparently, she made a new friend at the spectral fraternity meeting last night," Mrs. Gregg said. "Darling, you never told me, how did it all go?"

"I'm not sure you want to know, Mom," Candy hissed. "Uncle Dash told me about it."

"It was boring, at first," Sean started to say. "But, then..."

Thunder echoed. "It did not remain so," Daniel said. "Baron Von Dragon began attacking my crew for our fraternization with humans."

"Do what?" Lynne yelped. She gave Charles a quick glance. It had never occurred to her that the ghosts she had grown fond... used to… could be made to leave... or could they?

Simultaneously, Carolyn gasped, "Not that again! I thought we were through with that issue when Admiral What's His Name—"

"Wolfston," Daniel supplied.

"—Made his peace with you before we got married."

"Oh, yes," the Captain nodded grimly. "I was not sure I would get to demonstrate the trancing—"

"Pardon me," Siegfried said, holding up a hand for attention.

With some annoyance at being interrupted, Daniel turned to the other ghost. "Yes?"

"Doyoumeantotellme, thatMYBROTHER, whowassupposedtogivethatlectureshirkedhisduty?" Siegfried demanded icily.

"You could say that he deferred the honor," Daniel said, with consideration.

"Yes," Tristan nodded. "Captain Gregg conveys MUCH more… authority… than I."

"LITTLEBROTHER,IDIDNOTRAISEYOUTO—"

Suddenly, as if someone had shut off a spigot, the tirade fell silent and Siegfried's eyes grew round. His face drained of all color as he stared at a spot near the door.

"Siegfried, are you all right? I hate to say it this way, but you're pale as a ghost," Carolyn fretted, glancing at her husband first and then her friends.

"Sig?" Lynne prompted.

Tristan would have waved a hand in front of his brother's face, but decided he preferred this state to the yelling. Perhaps a miracle had happened; he'd always thought it would take one to shut Sig up when he was on a tirade.

Sean's eyes followed the other ghost's, but he grinned. "Molly, love. You're back, with…"

"…Bronwyn," Siegfried hissed.

The lady lifted her chin. "As I… live and breathe, so to speak. I take it that the farm's super-glue wore off after a few years? As I recall, you could not bring yourself to leave it."

Jenny and Candy edged over to Tristan. "Who's that?" the two 'sisters' whispered.

"No idea," Tris shrugged. "She must be someone he met after I left."

"No, Tristan, she… I knew Bronwyn long before. You were but a child at the time," Siegfried said heavily.

Her cool gaze turned to the younger ghost. "So, you are the baby brother?"

Irritation replaced curiosity. "I grew up."

"So I see. And…" Bronwyn looked at Jenny. "You are Isolde?"

"Er… no. I'm alive," Jenny flushed. "You weren't joking about me looking like her, huh, guys?"

"No, my dear girl," Sig allowed, never taking his eyes off the newcomer.

"Not to be rude or ignorant, but Blackie and Jess can sense ghosts, so, can't you guys, or ladies, do the same?" Martha asked.

"Most of us can," Tristan replied brightly, still smarting over the "baby brother" remark.

Bronwyn gave him a cold glare. "I believe we all can, and at will, most of us can turn off the power, to level the field, as it were, in mixed company. Of course, now I can see that this young lady is not a ghost. She simply looks as I fancied Isolde would when she grew up. Are you her great-grandchild?"

"I don't think so," Jenny replied. "I did a family tree once, and there weren't any Matthews on it, but my mother was adopted, so maybe. I don't know much about that side of the family, just about the Williams side. Carolyn and Candy's side."

"I don't recall ever meeting you," Tris frowned.

"I do remember you. You and Isolde were quite young, and, as I recall, when I hadn't brought you a present, you stuck your tongue out at me," Bronwyn laughed.

Flushing, the younger ghost searched for some cutting retort.

Meanwhile, his brother scowled more deeply. "Do you have a purpose in coming here, beyond insulting my brother?" Siegfried asked tersely. "Or turning the knife a little deeper in my heart?"

"YOUR—?" Bronwyn started to exclaim, and then checked her words. "I came here at Molly's invitation. We met at the fraternity meeting yesterday."

The Captain decided it was time to intervene. "Yes, Bronwyn spoke up in our favor when the Dragon began his vitriolic speech." He glanced at Tristan, and then continued. "And, Bronwyn, Tristan is the one who invented the trancing technique."

"Aye," Molly said. "You were tellin' me how much you enjoyed it, last night."

Their guest nodded, still staring hard at Siegfried. "How did you arrive here? I thought you could not be budged from your blasted farm."

"I had no choice in the matter," Sig bit out. "And I never would have wanted you to give up your dreams. Which, of course, you did not, I take it?"

"Choice? You never gave me one!"

Across the room, Jess kicked Adam and whispered, "You're a lawyer, do something."

"Sweetheart, this kicking thing of yours really needs to be remedied," he muttered. "What can I do?"

Thunder rattled the house. Carolyn looked at Captain Gregg, her brows lifted.

"It was not I, my dear," Daniel said.

"I never thunder in another man's house," Dash said.

"Forgive me, Carolyn," Molly said, turning red, but whether from ire or shame was unclear. "I… "Lost it," as the girls might say. I just…"

"No, forgive me, Mrs. Gregg," Siegfried said, more formally than usual. "It is rude of me to berate your guests. Now, I really should see about—"

"Siegfried," Carolyn said firmly.

"She's right," Bronwyn said. "We are both adults, who apparently have friends in common. I can be civil to you for an evening."

"As can I to you," the other ghost said gruffly.

"Molly, perhaps you could introduce me to your family?" Bronwyn prompted.

The Irish ghost nodded and began reciting the who's-who of the Gregg crew.

XXX

There was a tense moment, then Adam looked around the room to the other men and said, "Excuse me, but it's been a while since I cleaned you guys out. Pennies don't grow on trees, so can we get started?" As the men, relieved, nodded their assent and headed toward the dining room at the back of the house, Carolyn picked up her husband's cue.

"Come on, Lynne, Candy, Bronwyn — all of you! How long has it been since we all had a good girl talk?"

"Um, right," Molly agreed. "Well, here we are. I'll get the coffee things."

"There's enough of us that two sets of hands would be better," Martha said. "I'll go with you."

It took the women a little longer to get settled for the evening than it took the men to start dealing cards. Jenny took a few minutes to get Amberly situated in her portable playpen, Candy had brought some needlepoint to do, Martha pulled out her knitting, Lynne some crewel work and Carolyn her mending, once more working on Amberly's rompers. Jess had brought the multiple-choice quizzes she had given in three of her classes that needed grading, made easier with a stencil of the answers. It was routine, but she liked doing the work herself instead of handing such things over to a student helper, maintaining it helped her keep touch with how they were all doing, more so than just marking the results down in her grade book.

But, anyone who knew Jessamyn Thomas-Pierce at all well could tell that grading papers was the last thing on her mind. She was fairly brimming over with curiosity. All the women were, really, but most of them contained it just a tad better. When they were all settled, with coffee and whatnot, Jess started.

"So, Bronwyn. You know Siegfried?"

For a moment, Bronwyn appeared as if she might not answer, then she spoke up, "At least, I thought I did. But, that's really not a good topic. I'd much rather hear about you all. I may have interacted with the living for several decades now, but they've never known who, or should I say, what, I am. Tell me about you, all of you."

"Of course," Carolyn nodded, giving Jess, who was sitting next to her, a nudge she hoped the new female in the group wouldn't catch. "Some things are... personal. We understand."

"Besides, we have a lot to tell," Lynne continued. "Carolyn, you have been here the longest. You start."

"Me?" Carolyn looked a little startled. "Well, yes, I guess I have." She smiled, reminiscently. "I moved here to Gull Cottage with Candy and Jonathan — I'm sure you will meet my son later, he's away at college, at present — in the fall of 1968. Claymore, you haven't met him either, owned Gull Cottage then. That's this house, in case Daniel didn't tell you, and he leased it to me. Claymore, I mean, not Daniel. Supposedly Clay is Daniel's great-nephew, and…"

"Don't let the Captain hear you say that," Martha interjected. "I can hear him now. 'I'm the only son of an only son and I have never met Claymore's blasted grandmother in my life'!"

"Right," Carolyn nodded. "Martha moved here with us also. She was my housekeeper then."

"Still am, once a week or so," Martha added.

"Yes, anyway, I had been widowed for a few years, and wanted to make a fresh start, away from Philadelphia, where I was born, raised and married. When we arrived, I found out two reasons we had gotten a good deal on the house; one, it was falling apart—"

"Amen," Martha sighed.

"And two, Daniel was haunting it and didn't want anyone sharing his 'space,' but Claymore, is well, you might say..."

"Careful?" Molly offered, grinning.

"A tightwad?" Candy suggested.

"Stingy," Martha said, at the same time.

"...So he had to rent the place to get out of a tight spot." Carolyn recapped the family's first few years in the house, how they had left, and come home, thanks to Dash and Claymore. Molly then spoke of Sean's entrance into the Muirs' lives, and Martha told the story of Tristan's noisy arrival. From there, Candy picked up the skeleton story. Jenny told how she'd been orphaned. They glossed over Tristan's exit, return, and Sig's chasing his brother down. Then, Carolyn related how she'd fretted over Sean's sadness until Molly returned to his life. Lynne put in her two cents on how she'd caused Candy's first fight, sort of, then Jess told how she'd arrived, and Adam had almost stopped a plane for her. Then, she lit up, talking about the home the ghosts had made for them. Finally, Candy told Bronwyn their current status, with Thom recovering from a wreck.

With Bronwyn brought up to speed, as it were, there was a slight lull in the conversation, then Jess, who had finally finished her paper grading, spoke up again.

"So, Molly, you started to tell us, but we got… uhm, sidetracked." She gave Bronwyn a quick glance and continued. "We never did hear the end of Daniel's story about the lizard guy. How'd it end up?"

Bronwyn let out a hearty laugh.

"Lizard! Now that's a good name for that… well, I don't know what he is, except a fool." She smiled and poured another cup of coffee from the pot. "Not a lizard, although I really like that — Von Dragon. That's his name, Baron Von Dragon. If first impressions mean anything, I think he is a pompous idiot. He tried to stop the trancing demonstration, got the whole fraternity hall in an uproar, Captain Gregg, Lord Dashire, Sean and Molly…" She stopped and smiled at her new friend, "were getting ready to pop out, or throw a punch. I'm not sure which, and, well, I—" she broke off suddenly. "I—"

"What Bronwyn is trying not to do, is brag," Molly cut in. "Bronwyn told Von Dragon off! Basically she told him to shut up and leave if he didn't like it and managed to get the crowd calmed down, or at least LISTENING, again instead of shouting at each other."

"How did you get their attention?" Jess asked. "A room full of noisy guys — I have enough trouble trying to get my students to settle down sometimes."

Bronwyn gave a graceful shrug.

"I just talked loud enough to be heard, I guess," she answered. "My father always did say I had a voice that could be heard clearly in the biggest theater. They stopped and listened, I said my piece, and that was that."

"When I was younger, I wanted to be an actress," Jenny piped up. "But I also found out early on, put me on stage, or in front of a big crowd, and I freeze. Any stage, any time, anywhere. I just am not a good public speaker, but oh, how I admire those who can!"

"Martha has performed on the stage," Carolyn said.

The older woman half smiled, then reminded her in an undertone, "So have you, honey-baby-sweetie."

"I meant in a professional capacity," Carolyn grinned back. "I'm strictly Amateur Night."

Bronwyn nodded. "I heard. Martha, you are playing Mrs. Rogers in the Agatha Christie play Molly told me about?"

"Yes," the older woman nodded.

"But she's acted before," Carolyn grinned again. "Vaudeville, back in the twenties, right, Martha?"

"I didn't know that!" Linden exclaimed, "Martha, why didn't you tell us?"

"The Last of the Red Hot Mamas was a long time ago," Martha blushed. "Nobody wants to hear about that."

"You were one of that trio?" Bronwyn gave the older woman a big smile. "Why, I remember seeing you! At least I think it was you! New Jersey, nineteen-twenty-five — the Jazz Age. There were you and — let me think — you had sisters. Marcia and Margo, right? And your big number was One of these Days!"

Martha's eyes grew wide. "That's right! That was our act! Marcia and Margo weren't really my sisters though, that was just a part of the gimmick. You really saw us perform?"

"Absolutely," Bronwyn nodded. "You three were good! What happened to the act?"

"Marcia was called home to take care of her mother, and Margo got married," Martha said, matter-of-factly. "There really wasn't an act after that. Stuff happens. But enough about me, I want to hear about you!"

"Me, too," said Candy. "But Martha, I can't believe you did that and never told us about that part! We just got to see you sing the song once." Then to Bronwyn, she added, "It must be fun, traveling with troupes the way you do, and for so…" she stopped and blushed. Perhaps their new friend didn't want to talk about EXACTLY how long she had been alive, or how old she was when she died.

"Right. Hey." Jess broke in, too excited to keep still. "I just realized that you're a brand new historical person all come to life — living history, as it were, like the other ghosts hereabouts. You must have dozens of first-hand stories, and lots of stuff not in text books, just like Captain Gregg and Dash and Sean and, well, everyone. Are you from Schooner Bay? I just gotta get some stories from you. Blast, I wish I had a tape recorder! I mean face it, of the ghosts we know, nobody grew up around the theater. Four spent their lives at sea, mostly, Fontenot doesn't hardly ever talk, and the sixth is a farmer and for someone who talks a lot, there are a few things we don't know, and…" Jess stopped suddenly, having turned bright red, but their visitor seemed to take no notice.

"I've spent my life in the theater," Bronwyn answered. "What is it they call it now, from that old… was it Judy Garland movie? I was born in a trunk." She smiled easily. "My mother and father were show folk, and made their living traveling from county to county, town to town, city to city, with their own troupe. I think there were about thirty of us players, all told. Father was the owner/manager. I was born during their run of Much Ado About Nothing they were doing in Shropshire, at the time."

"I bet you've got a zillion stories!" Jess beamed. "You are staying for a while, aren't you? I'd love to hear at least a hundred of them."

"We all would," Carolyn chimed in.

"And, Thom'll want to meet you, I know," Candy said. "But his travel is restricted for a while longer."

"We sure could use a professional's opinion of the play," Martha added, shaking her head.

"I don't know…" Bronwyn hesitated. Without her volition, the ghost's dark eyes slipped back toward the door separating the women and men.

"He will behave," Lynne promised.

"Ye could stay with Sean and me. We've ample room," Molly offered. "And we've only had one overnight guest in all our time married."

Then, out of the blue, one of the kittens, TJ, roused from his nap on the windowsill. Blinking, the little critter scampered across the room and up onto Bronwyn's lap. She barely remembered to re-solidify in time. "My goodness!"

"That's TJ, isn't it?" Candy asked. "He doesn't usually get along with strangers."

"Nope. Other than the climbing, Junior's nothing like Tris," Jenny agreed.

"See, you've got to stay, you've won over the unwinnable kitten," Carolyn urged.

For a moment longer, Bronwyn looked conflicted, and then she nodded. "Yes. I'd love to."

XXX

The men's game was considerably less cheerful, although Sig did approach it with forced joie de vive.

"Right. Now that it's just us, let's get to it!"

The other men exchanged glances. Adam pursed his lips, as if to hold back the twenty questions he would love to have asked. For once, Tristan decided discretion was the better part of valor, and did not pepper his brother with nosy comments. The older ghosts all had experience with secrets, so it was less difficult for them to keep their curiosity in check. Once or twice, Dave or Blackie tried to start a conversation, but Siegfried's antzyness quelled their attempts.

After only a few hands, Siegfried shook his head. "Gentlemen, the cards are not my friends this day. I can seem to do nothing but lose, and I would like to check on that horse that was giving me problems last night. Jim Wight just does not know horses. You will give my regards to my hostess and your ladies? Excellent, thank you." On that note, he popped out.

Immediately, the tension that had weighted the air dissipated, but no one's heart was really in the game.

XXX

When the guys judged that the women had gabbed enough and Adam had won two dollars' worth of pennies, Daniel knocked on the connecting door. "Would you ladies consider re-gracing us with your delightful presences?" As he opened the door, eight pairs of eyes stared back at him in surprise.

"Are you already done with your game?" Carolyn asked, startled.

"It's been hours, my dear," he replied with a tug on his ear.

"Well, time does fly when you're having fun," Jess essayed as she rose to stretch. Cocking her head, she glanced from her sister to her niece. "Do you two realize you've spent an entire evening without worrying and freaking?"

Shock and guilt flickered over Lynne and Candy's faces.

"And I'm sure that will please Thom," Carolyn said firmly.

"No wonder Amberly's asleep! It's ten-thirty!" Jenny gasped.

When Sean joined his Captain at the door, Molly caught his eye. "Darlin', Bronwyn's going to be staying with us for a while."

He shrugged. "That's fine."

"Thank you, Mr. O'Casey," Bronwyn said formally. Her eyes darted over the men milling behind Daniel. "Siegfried has left?"

"Equine emergency," Daniel explained.

"Of course. He found a farm here, I take it?"

"Not really. Local riding stable," Dave told her, reaching out to take his sleeping daughter. "Our vet's not up on horses, unless 'Kota counts." He reached down to pat the shaggy dog's head.

"If you want to send him a message, I'll tell him," the doctor offered.

The actress' jaw tensed just slightly. "Merely curious. It was lovely to meet all of you. I'm sure we'll see each other again before I leave."

"I think we'd best be goin' then," Sean nodded. "Ladies."

The trio vanished, and soon the rest of the family had all followed suit in one way or another. Before Tristan could teleport out, Daniel stopped him. After fourteen years, he knew Carolyn would want to speak to the youngest Matthews.

"Yes, Captain?"

Daniel glanced at his wife expectantly.

"Tris, what can you tell us about Siegfried and Bronwyn?" Mrs. Gregg asked.

He shrugged. "I know no more than you. I've tried to remember her, but if she was someone he met before our dad's accident... Look, until Sig became the family patriarch, he was simply my annoying, boring older brother. Issy and I didn't pay much attention to him, nor he to us. And his courting habits were of even less concern, that is, until the lasses might become our mother, so to speak. And Miss Tegan was not one of that group." He shook his head. "I would guess that their parting was not especially amicable, and I did hear a note of resentment in her tone, when she mentioned the farm. Not sure she liked me much, either. That baby brother remark." He frowned. "Nah. Impossible. How could she not like me? I'm sorry, Mrs. Captain. I'm just IN a mystery; solving one's another matter."

"That's all right, lad," Daniel assured him.

"If I find out anything, unless Sig swears me to secrecy, I'll let you two know."

XXX

Sean O'Casey showed up at Gull Cottage for the foursome's usual Saturday morning breakfast about nine o'clock Saturday morning, sans Molly, offering his wife's apologies, and announcing that Molly was giving Bronwyn a tour of the town, and if it was all right, could Bronwyn join the other couple for the dinner the four had planned earlier instead?

Looking at his wife and getting her approval, Daniel nodded also. "Of course. The women in our little clan rather had Miss Tegan all to themselves yesterday evening. Carolyn has been telling me a bit about her history, and I must say, I wouldn't mind hearing some of her stories myself. For instance, Bronwyn witnessed the very first production of Pygmalion, in 1916, AND watched My Fair Lady open on Broadway in 1956! Can you imagine, being around and in the right place and right time to see both versions? Live? Not even ghosts can always count on being able to do that!"

"I think that's why I like time travel stories so much," Carolyn said. "I'd love to do another story where the hero or heroine can travel through time and space at will and observe things they were too young, especially, to see the first time around. You know, interact with people in that time, as long as they don't change history, or anything."

"I think you just have a crush on that actor who played that phonetics professor, originally," Daniel grumbled, slightly. "What's his name? He was in Doctor Dolittle too — Harrison?"

"Rex Harrison, or the actor who replaced him, either one. Edward Mulhare took over for Harrison after he left the Broadway production," Carolyn nodded, giving her a husband a look. Smiling, she reached up and smoothed away his slight frown. "No reason to be jealous, darling… I only admire those two actors because they look a bit like you."

"Balderdash," the seaman said, taking his wife's hand and kissing it. "I'm not jealous, and neither of them look a bit like me."

"It's the truth," Sean said. "Actually, I have noticed a slight resemblance myself, Danny."

"Poppycock." Wrapping an arm around his wife's waist, Daniel led her and Sean toward the kitchen. When they had settled, Sean gave Daniel Gregg a close look.

"So, Daniel, any ideas what is goin' on with Siegfried and Miss Tegan? Did Tris spill anything, or may I ask?"

"You can ask, but I can't give you any answers, old friend." Daniel smiled. "Not because I don't want to, but because I don't know… and because Tris doesn't know. Really." His glance shifted to Carolyn.

"Don't ask me," his wife shrugged. "Jess blurted out some question last night about how long, or how she knows Sig, But Bronwyn was reluctant to answer, and I didn't want to push. Not my place — or anyone's really. If she wants to tell us, she will. Perhaps she OR Sig will, after they work out their differences, if there are any to work out. In the meantime, I think if she says anything to anyone, it will be to Molly."

"Than it will remain a mystery," Sean smiled. "If there is anything my wife is good at, is keeping a secret. Most irritating at times, but probably for the best." Smiling, he took another sip of coffee. "I wouldn't have her any other way, really. Molly did say that Bronwyn would be attending church with us tomorrow. She wants to hear us sing our duet."

"What are you doing this week?" Carolyn asked.

"I Come to the Garden Alone," Sean answered. "We've been working on it for two weeks now."

"You'll do wonderfully," Daniel nodded. "You always do."

"Thank-you, Danny," Sean grinned. "I want to sing with Molly, naturally, but I think I am interested in our social hour after church even more."

"Why?" Carolyn queried, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to see the look on the land-shark's face… that is Mrs. … Miss Coburn, Sharpe, whatever she is going by these days," Sean grinned. "I don't think that lady likes competition, and Bronwyn certainly outshines her in the looks department! Of course…" He added with a bow, "almost everyone does, especially you, Carolyn, naturally my Molly! Still…" He gave them a look. "It will be a sight to see!"

The ghost and his lady burst out in laughter.

XXX

The morning flew by for Molly and Bronwyn as they toured Schooner Bay. There really wasn't much to see, not for tourists, in any case, but Bronwyn loved hearing how it had changed and stayed the same since Molly's original day. Around noon, although neither lady needed to eat, they headed to Norrie's Lobster House.

Norrie greeted them at the door and introductions were made. Since lunch was a busy time, Molly said they could seat themselves.

"This is where I found Sean again," Molly whispered with a smile. "I'd almost given up hope, but then, right in the middle of my song, he walked in and began singing with me. I leapt right off the stage into his arms. It was like something out of a movie."

Her new friend nodded. "I doubt a modern playwright could script something so lovely, but yes. You are fortunate, Molly, to have a man who will spend so long… Uhm, dedicated to you." Bronwyn's face shuttered. "If I were a writer, it would make a fine stage show, complete with music. Of course, I've never been in a musical. I can't carry a tune in a bucket, but a story about you would have to include songs."

"I know how lucky I am," Molly agreed, tactfully not pressing Bronwyn about the subtle, sad undercurrent she could hear below the other woman's words. "Oh, look, there's Claymore!"

Bronwyn's gaze shifted to look in the indicated direction. "He does not resemble a sword much, does he?"

"I think perhaps his parents were guilty of wishful thinkin'," Molly agreed. "Let me introduce you." The two women moved over to where the reedy man was stirring his chowder listlessly. "Good afternoon, Claymore," Molly said cheerfully.

Automatically, he rose. His uncle's lessons in chivalry had taken somewhat. "Oh, hello, Molly." Then, his eyes brightened as he saw Bronwyn. "And hello, my dear! You're new in town, aren't you?"

"Yes, I just came in yesterday. Bronwyn Tegan," the newcomer nodded. "Carolyn and Molly mentioned you are directing a play?"

"Bronwyn's an actress," Molly added.

"Really? Do join me," Claymore beamed. As the ladies took a seat at his table, he began rhapsodizing about the play and his improvements to it.

"Interesting," Bronwyn said in a pause. Taking a sip of the tea the waitress had just left for her, she commented, "I've never seen a director with such a unique slant in all the productions I've been in or seen of And Then There Were None, and I was at the original one."

"Yes, I thought it was a stroke of pure genius, myself," Claymore chuckled, then broke off as the words sank in. "Urk. You're... you're…"

"Yes, quite so," Bronwyn agreed pleasantly.

Claymore's glee turned to despair. "More you-know-what's. There IS enough for a volleyball team now."

"I haven't played often, but it is a fun game," Bronwyn offered.

Claymore shook his head. "Maybe, but even if I put one together, you wouldn't use your mo-jo to win. I tried to get Tristan to put the whammy on his baseball game, and Dashire, too, but no. Said it wouldn't be honorable."

Shaking her head, Molly reminded him, "Claymore, your soup is getting cold."

"I'm really not that hungry," the miser said, unhappily.

"You'll be wasting money if you don't finish it," Molly said.

"Oh, that's right!" With renewed interest, he began attacking the dish.

Just then, the door swung open and Norrie hastened over to see who had come in. Since Molly and Bronwyn were seated with their backs to the door, they could not see, but did hear the proprietor say, "Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Matthews. The doctor and the vet's take-out are ready to go. I'll just get it."

Molly turned to wave at Siegfried, but if he saw her, the ghost gave no indication. He simply stared straight ahead until Norrie brought him a bag. Then, he paid and left.

Frowning, Molly turned back to her companions. "How odd."

"He probably just didn't see us," Claymore shrugged.

"Aye." But she doubted that.

XXX

"Are you sure it will be all right if I attend the gathering tonight, Molly?" Bronwyn asked, a shred of doubt coming to her dark eyes as she looked at her reflection in the hall mirror at Sean and Molly's cottage. "After all, I wasn't expected, and Carolyn and the Captain may not have planned for me to be there..."

"Nonsense," Molly shook her head as she came up behind her friend. "Daniel popped in on Sean more than two hours ago, reminding us, and the message was that Carolyn is expecting all three of us."

"Who all will be there tonight?" Bronwyn queried, still a bit hesitant. "Carolyn and Daniel, you and Sean, Jess and Adam?"

Molly shook her head. "Jess and Adam are at the movies. A showing of Arsenic and Old Lace they wanted to see. Blackie will be there..."

"And others, I'm sure," Sean added coming up behind them. "The crowd varies each week, Depending on circumstances. I think Lynne and Charlie are on a not-a-date, but anyone else is anyone's guess. Daniel says Carrie has finally mastered the art of lasagna, but we don't want to be late. If she burns it waiting for us, we will never hear the end of it."

"Right," Molly nodded. "Are you ready, Bronwyn?"

"As ready as I can hope for," the other ghost answered, and with that, the three dematerialized, then reappeared on the front porch of Gull Cottage.

Sig answered the door. The older ghost's eyes lit up at the sight of Sean and Molly and then darkened slightly as they fell on Bronwyn.

"Sean, Molly..." he started. "Glad to see you. I was hoping you would make it, even with the rehearsal this afternoon. Thought you might have to recharge. You have been more busy than usual of late. Come in. Daniel and Carolyn are in the kitchen." His look turned to Bronwyn again. "Youarestillhere?"

"I was invited," she answered slowly.

Sig frowned. "As was I — no, that's wrong. As family, Iwasexpectedtobehere."

Molly gave Sig a slight stare. "Siegfried, Carolyn is waiting for us, and you are letting the heat out."

"Well..." he paused. "Come in, all of you."

Bronwyn almost expected Siegfried to close the door in her face; well, if he did, she'd just pop in. However, he stood aside stiffly to let them enter. Blackie was in the living room, listening to some outrageous story of Tristan's.

"I swear. It's true! On my honor as a gentleman, a seaman, and a member of Daniel Gregg's crew. What could I do but that, when those Callahan brats came home with a pack of kids saying they could control the ghost? The very idea, I mean, really!"

"Still, Tristan, even you can't make ten suits of armor march down the hall all at once to chase off a group of Cub Scouts! Weren't they overly heavy?"

"I told you. It was an illusion. Real armor would have been unwieldy. It moves too slowly. Oh — we've got more guests. Sorry, didn't see you all come in," Tristan broke off, rising.

"That seems to be going around today," Bronwyn muttered. "I suppose some days ghosts get TREATED like ghosts, perhaps?"

"Nonsense," Daniel Gregg said easily, entering the room from the kitchen. "Forgive me, Bronwyn, for not answering the door, I was helping Carolyn. We have a tendency, I am afraid, to forget manners occasionally, and just barrel on through. Now then, would you care for a drink? Do sit down, here, on the sofa, or this rocking chair, if you prefer. You remember everyone right? Blackwood, Sean and Molly, naturally, Sig? Tristan? Siegfried?"

"A pleasure," Blackwood O'Ryan said, also getting up. "Carolyn has been telling me a few of your stories from the other night. I do hope you plan on telling a few more…"

"I will, but I am more interested in getting to know all of you," Bronwyn started. Turning to Daniel, she added. "And thank you, for the offer of a drink. White wine, if you have it, if not just water is fine."

"We have that," Daniel saluted. "Sean? Molly? Madeira?" At their nod, he popped out.

Bronwyn seated herself on the rocker, facing Blackwood, and Tris who had reseated themselves. Siegfried had, by this time, moved toward the fireplace, still standing, and her dark eyes followed him, reluctantly. "But I am interrupting your story, surely…"

"Nay," Molly answered. "This is just the beginning of Tris's adventures with the Callahans. We can catch up."

"Sean Callahan?" Bronwyn queried, looking interested. "There are four generations of that bunch now, aren't there? I met Callahan the second once. Didn't like him. He had something of an over-inflated opinion of himself."

"Like others, perhaps?" Sig whispered.

"Many others, it would seem," Bronwyn sighed. "But I am interrupting," she added, turning back to Tristan. "I'm sorry. Do go on."

Disconcerted, the younger ghost glanced at his brother uncertainly before continuing, "Not much more to tell, really... the entire lot of the boys shrieked and went tearing out of the castle. One did knock over an actual suit of armor. Of course, they thought the Great Ghost Callahan had done it. Now, on the subject of armor, did you know that armor has incredible acoustics? One's voice takes on an especially eerie quality filtered through a suit of it. Even more so when done at one or two a.m."

Bronwyn gave the younger Matthews a genuine smile. "I can imagine... eerie, indeed, giving a new meaning to the term, haunted castle, I suppose! I can't say that I have ever haunted, or spoken through a suit of armor, but, being involved with the theater, I am familiar with the problem of acoustics. It happened quite often when I was performing, even when alive."

"Youshouldn'tencouragehisadolescentbehavior," Sig snapped.

"Everyone needs a little fun in their lives, MISTER Matthews," she fired back. "Otherwise, what's the point? That's why after a BITTER disappointment, I stayed with the stage. If the current Callahan is anything like Callahan the second, I say he got what he deserved. Don't be such a spoilsport."

"Everyone getting better acquainted?" Daniel asked, coming back in with drinks.

"I think so," Blackie said uneasily. "Tell me, Captain, how does the current Callahan compare to the one you knew? The one in the cellar?"

"Now, Blackwood, we moved him," Tristan chided. "Skeletons were not part of the then Mrs. Muir's lease."

"Moved him yourself?" Bronwyn's eyebrows went up again. "I thought that your boss, Lynne..." she started, looking at Siegfried, "...took care of moving the body from the cellar. At least that was the story I was told Friday night." Puzzled, she looked at both brothers. "You two handled moving Callahan?"

"Lynne Avery is not my boss... Imerelyhaunther," Sig replied. "Asfortheskeleton, that was longbeforemyarrival..."

"But I was there," said Tris. "I didn't move the skeleton either, the local authorities did, but I did get to frighten away the tourists that came gawking after Callahan was discovered."

"And a good job you did, too," the Captain smiled. "As for Sean Callahan..."

"Callahan, what?" Carolyn asked, entering the room. "Hello, Bronwyn, Sean, Molly... Dinner should be ready in about another fifteen minutes. Why are we talking about any Sean Callahan?"

"My fault, Mrs. Captain," Tristan apologized. "Blackie was telling me about the sermon he's planning for next month — the one about the full armor of God from Ephesians, and that reminded me of my armor story. I took umbrage at a comment made by Sean Callahan the Fifth, the Fourth's son, so I spooked his Cub Scout troop with a few tricks using armor. Miss Tegan met one of the earlier Callahan gents. Second you say? Well, none of us met him, did we? That would have been the present ghost Callahan, Colleen's, son, I suppose?"

"I would imagine," Bronwyn shrugged a graceful shoulder. "I have no idea how many sons he had running around, though. Carolyn, you were telling me that Callahan the Fourth, Callahan the First and the Captain looked a bit alike. I couldn't say to that, and I only met the second after my demise, and then in a professional capacity, but Callahan the second did not carry the family look. Perhaps it skips a generation?"

"Or a few," Carolyn suggested. "I guess every family is different. Jenny really does not look much like her late mother did, but Candy and I are quite alike in looks, so are my son and I. Even our ghost-hunter admitted that."

"One of the few things that infernal idiot got right," Daniel snorted as he took a sip of Madeira. "I do wonder how the late Mrs. Callahan and Wilkie are getting on."

"Hard to say," Blackie shrugged "He is either driving her crazy or they are getting along splendidly. I suppose it depends." The pastor glanced at Bronwyn. "Have you heard that story yet? Pardon us, if you haven't. We'll catch you up to speed in no time."

"Right," Molly nodded. "Bron will be in town a few more days anyway, and..."

"You don't have to... go do whatever it is you do?" Siegfried Matthews said archly. "I'm surprised you can tear yourself away from the stage this long."

Bronwyn's lips thinned. Lifting her chin, she answered, "Well, I'm sure the pastor would agree — miracles do happen. After all, you somehow got away from that farm of yours and don't have some horse thing tonight."

"Itakemyresponsibilitiesveryseriously,Bronwyn," he spat back. "And unlike others, when I give my word it means something. And not only that, but..."

A small "ting" interrupted him, and the rest of the crew breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's my timer," Carolyn announced. "Why don't you all head for the dining room?"

"Do you need a second set of hands, Carolyn?" Molly asked, giving her friend a look that said "please say yes." At the other woman's nod, the group headed toward the dining room and dinner.

The meal was a tense affair, to put it mildly. For the most part, Siegfried was silent, but when he did speak, his words always seemed to have a double edge to them. Bronwyn was more verbose, yet every now and then, her words might have had a hidden barb as well.

"Let me help you with the dishes, Carolyn," Molly said, as they started to move away from the table.

"No, ME!" three other voices offered, but Carolyn shook her head, grimacing. "It's not necessary. I'm going to put them on to soak, and worry about them later, after dessert."

"We can have coffee in the parlor," Daniel added. "Tris, you have not caught me up on how the play is going, and nobody has mentioned Thom all night? Come, let us adjourn. Carolyn, never mind the table, we can do that later." Giving her a look she could read easily after fourteen years together, the group headed back to the living room.

"The last time I saw my cousin, he was going nuts. It goes to show you, people in the medical professions should never, ever become patients, because they have none. I've been instructed to preach a very long sermon tomorrow, so he can get out of the house for more time," Blackie shook his head. "Of course, if I do that, there'll be two dozen people yelling because I made them late for the big game or they got terribly hungry and the line to be served at Norrie's, or whatever, was out the blasted door."

"Then you must have something of a rapt audience, preaching to ghosts," Bronwyn smiled. "At least you don't have to worry about us getting truly hungry! As for football, I never quite understood the game, I'm afraid. Seemed like it takes a great deal of time and accomplishes very little."

"Amen!" Carolyn and Molly cheered.

"Not a football fan?" Sig jibed. "It's the great American past-time. I thought you, enjoying yourself, traveling around as much as you have, would have discovered it by now. I find it quite interesting, myself."

"You do?" Tris queried. "Sig, I thought you said nothing could replace soccer in your mind?"

"It can't," he replied gruffly. "But football is reallyonlyavariationofsoccer, andIdon'tunderstand whysomepeople..."

"Sig," Molly said gently. "Slow down, it's been a long day and I don't feel like listening fast."

"Besides, you need the practice," Sean grinned. "You talk too fast on stage and the show will lose a half an hour in the telling."

"I can slow down when I see fit," Sig answered shortly.

"Then, please do," Daniel said firmly.

"As you wish," Sig nodded stiffly.

XXX

If the little group expected the tension to abate after dinner, they were sorely disappointed. The pattern continued, even worsening.

"You know, I realize that it's not strictly theater, even as much as the community play is, but the children's department is planning on doing a little play for Christmas. Standard stuff," Blackie attempted. "I don't suppose you could advise us a little on it, Bronwyn?"

Before the lady could respond, Siegfried had jumped in. "I hardly think Bronwyn would be interested in dealing with children, much less staying around that long."

A look of pain crossed the dark-haired woman's face and her eyes glistened for a moment. Then, in a deathly quiet voice, she answered the English ghost.

"For your information, Siegfried Matthews, I happen to love children. It is one of the few regrets I have of my life, never having had any... no one to love, like that..." She swallowed, and continued. "I like children's theater, I adore directing little ones, and I LOVE watching them act, even when they produce anything but professional results. I love it because they give of themselves, wholeheartedly, and honestly, which is more than I can say for adults. And I'll have you know I haven't made ANY decisions about when I am leaving here... perhaps when Molly and Sean tell me to leave, or more than ONE person indicates that I am not welcome, and not before. And please, SIR, try not to make any more assumptions for me. I can speak quite well for myself, thank you!"

A cold silence blanketed the room. Finally, Sean broke it by saying, "Molly and I'd never tell a charmin' guest such as yourself to leave."

"And I'd be most grateful for the help at church," Blackie added.

"If I can help in any way, all someone need do is ask," Bronwyn said, not moving her eyes from Sig.

"PerhapsIspokeoutofturn," Siegfried said, looking almost shamefaced.

"Perhaps so," Bronwyn answered. "Blackwood..."

"Blackie, to my friends."

"Blackie, I would be more than happy to discuss the children's play with you, any time you wish."

"Are you attending services tomorrow?"

"Naturally."

"We can talk more then, after I see the stage, but tell me, what are you planning? Or has that been decided?"

"We don't really have a formal stage," Blackie smiled apologetically. "Just a wide area between the altar and the first pew. As to the content, I really don't know. It kinda depends on what we have to work with."

"Then, I shall look it over tomorrow."

"Great. You know, speaking of tomorrow, I really need to look over my sermon one more time, or two. Carolyn, it was lovely, but I need to get a move on. Sometimes, I envy you guys, just popping around. But, I'll just make do with the car."

"Car? Please, let me drive you home!" Tristan said, with forced brightness. "Please?"

"I still drive a stick shift!" Blackie reminded him.

"Yes, but I've been wanting to learn how to drive one, so you can show me."

"Fine, just watch. Don't touch the wheel," Blackie agreed, recognizing that for once, Tris really wasn't asking to drive, just get out of there.

After the two young men exited, Carolyn offered Molly and Sean a way out. "Blast it. I finished making that new dress for Amberly this afternoon, but I never got a chance to get it to Jenny. Could you stop Tristan, darling? So he can take it?"

"I can pop it over in the morning, if you think she needs to wear it tomorrow," Daniel said.

"Nonsense," Molly said. "What's a godmother for if not to do little things like that? Sean and I'll be happy to drop it by."

"I'll meet you two at your home," Bronwyn murmured. "Thank you, Captain, Carolyn." On that, she faded out.

Gratefully, Carolyn went and got the yellow dotted-Swiss dress. As she returned to the parlor, Sig rose. "It's been an interesting evening, Captain, Mrs. Gregg, but I really should see how the new foal is doing. Thank you for the company." Then he, too, popped out.

And so, a very long evening was at an end. Carolyn Gregg dropped onto the sofa. Looking up at her husband, she shook her head. "Well, that was..."

"Yes, it was," the Captain agreed. "Though quite what, I am not sure, dear lady."

"In a way, they remind me of us," Carolyn mused.

Daniel Gregg lifted his brows. "Of us, my love?"

"We did hurt each other during those first two years. The monkey-puzzle tree, me asking if you had human feelings, a few sabotage incidents I could mention, but won't."

"I admire your tact, Madam," the ghost smiled. "Tell me, you aren't contemplating matchmaking, are you?" His gaze did not waver, but he did not forbid her to do so either.

Carolyn thought, then shook her head. "No. It just doesn't feel like my place to interfere this time. Unless..."

Faster than she could breathe, Mrs. Gregg found herself being kissed thoroughly. When it ended, the Captain asked, "Now, what were you saying?"

"Do you really think you can distract me with one good kiss?"

Daniel looked at her, a tiny grin playing on the edge of his lips. "No. That's why I had an entire series planned."

"All right," Carolyn nodded agreeably. "That might do it."

Sunday

"Would you all quit staring? Haven't you ever seen a guy with a cane before?" Thom Avery grouched as he hobbled up to the church door, flanked by Candy Muir Avery and the Pierces. Most of the family stood waiting and watching, except for Blackie, who had to be up front as the pastor.

"We're just glad to see you recovering," the Captain said gruffly.

"Bet it's good to be out of the house again," Ed Peavey noted. "Even one fancy's that one."

"He had to get some sunlight, or people really would start thinking he was a vampire," Adam commented.

"He'd fit right in," Lynne returned.

"Ix-nay on the Halloween stuff talk," Claymore hissed.

"What? Jess is the family witch with her vitamin and herb stuff, so a vampire would fit," the doctor replied. "Calm down, Claymore."

"You shouldn't scare me," he sighed.

"He's right, Doctor," Daniel said. "That's my job."

"Ahem," Tristan cleared his throat as he and Sig approached. "Our job, sir. You can't be on duty all the time."

Claymore just glared as Thom smiled. "Hi, Tris."

Tristan returned the greeting easily and then blinked as he realized the other man was really glad to see him. Given they were both in love with the same woman, that had not happened often.

Sean, Molly, and Bronwyn came up to the group. After introducing Thom to their guest, the singers went in to join the choir. Siegfried barely greeted his friends, and did not speak to the other woman at all.

As always, the O'Casey's duet was beautiful, and Blackie's sermon on Genesis 42-43, about the reunion of Joseph and his brothers, was thorough, yet concise.

Helen and Jim Wight had the coffee hour afterwards. Thom insisted on attending, over Candy, Jess, and Lynne's objections.

"Now, remember, Dash, you are sharing the doctor with Sig and me, right?" Tristan whispered as the Gregg group headed toward the fellowship hall where the Wights were hosting the coffee hour.

Lynne turned to give the trio a look. "Excuse me? One, I'm not an umbrella you can pass around and share. Two, what gives you the idea that HE can speak for me?"

Behind them, Daniel and Carolyn halted to hear the reply.

Tristan flushed as he back-pedaled. "Er, well, you being next to our noble friend there gives him sort of an… umbrella of protection from… people. Certain ones, I mean. And you're such a… formidable lady that surely you can defend more than one guy from… people."

"People?" Carolyn whispered, amused. "I thought Elroy was the only — friend — with that phobia."

"And Charlie would be able to speak for me — why?"

"Yes, Tris, why?" Mrs. Gregg asked.

"Don't mind me. It's been a long week," he shook his head.

"Ask Bronwyn," Carolyn suggested.

"Don'tbeacoward,boy," Siegfried growled.

"I'll remind you of that when you're looking for a place to hide," his brother muttered. "I think I'll see if Thom needs some help getting through the crowd. There are a lot of people here today."

"Do I hear my name being taken in vain?" Bronwyn asked coolly as she and the O'Caseys joined the group.

"No," Dash said. "Carolyn was simply suggesting that you might help protect the unattached males from… unwanted attaching. I think it's down to one. Tris just rushed off. Sig?"

"Gladly, if I'm asked, of course," she said.

"I'm fine."

"Suit yourself. You always do."

"Are you all going to hang out in the hall?" Helen called from the door.

"Sorry," Lynne said. "Come on, Charlie. I'm sure there's chocolate somewhere inside."

XXX

"Good morning, Mrs. Miles," said Darlene Hassenhammer, coming up to the table. She gave a curious look at the new face. "How are you this fine morning, and who is your friend?"

Carolyn smiled, biting back the giggle that threatened to escape as she heard in her mind the dozens of permutations of the poor woman's name that Tris, Adam, and the others had invented. "Darlene, this is Bronwyn Tegan. She's..."

"Here visiting my friend, Molly. We... both belong to the same… professional association."

"Oh? You sing as well?"

Bronwyn shook her head. "Ah, no. It's more general than specifically one entertainment discipline. Acting is my vocation."

"Oh, REALLY?" the woman gushed. "Well, isn't that lovely? I act too! We're producing And Then There Were None... the production will go on Halloween weekend... Tell me, will you still be in town to see it? I would love to get another professional's opinion. Mister Gregg is directing, but frankly..."

"Darlene?" Another voice interrupted.

"Yes? Oh, Margaret..."

"Yes. Darlene. Who are your friends?"

"This is Miss Tegan. It is Miss, isn't it? From… wherever Mrs. O'Casey is from. She's an actress, a real pro," Darlene gushed.

"That's not quite right," Bronwyn corrected. "Molly, I believe, was born in Ireland. I'm afraid that is not I. I was born in England. As for being a pro, well, being an actress, as well as other facets of the theater, that is what I do. I'm between engagements at the moment. On holiday, as it were."

"I see..." said Margaret. "But it's MISS Tegan?"

"Technically, I suppose it is Mrs., as I was married once, briefly," Bronwyn smiled. "I have been widowed for more than a... that is, many years now. But what is in a title? Or a name, really? To quote Shakespeare, or nearly, a rose by any name smells as sweet."

Siegfried Matthew's head turned sharply toward the little group, and he nearly dropped the plate of cookies he was holding. None of the women heard him hiss in a whisper, "Married? When? Who?"

"So Tegan is your married name, then?" Margaret, the land-shark queried.

"No," Bronwyn shook her head. "I didn't keep my married name."

"I didn't either," said Margaret Coburn, nee Sharpe.

"I understand that is becoming more the norm." Bronwyn laughed lightly and turned the subject. "So... Darlene, is it? You are appearing in a play?"

Before Darlene could begin chattering about her role, Margaret interjected, "I was in Claymore's first play, you know. One of the lead parts."

"Were you, now?" Bronwyn smiled. "Was that the one where you were the 'other woman' while Carolyn and Mr. Coolidge played the leads? How wonderful for you. 'Other women' parts are so interesting to do, yet not as much sought after. I'm sure you performed admirably, and brought down the house."

"Nope, Just broke a chair," Martha, who was sitting at the far end of the table, murmured, with a snicker.

Bronwyn's lips quivered. "I do hope," she said, when the laugh was quashed, "no one was in it, at the time."

"No, I was fine," Margaret snapped, her face flushing. "I had just stood up. I still think someone..." She glanced at Carolyn and Martha, "...Might have sabotaged it. You need to be careful of such things in your production, Darlene. Tell me..." She turned back to Bronwyn. "...You'll only be in town for a few days, then?"

"I hope you can stay a bit longer than that!" Darlene gushed. "Professional advice like yours is hard to come by!"

"But we wouldn't want to KEEP you, either!" Margaret added.

"I haven't decided, yet," Bronwyn answered. "I may decide to stay for a while, if I can keep occupied."

"We'd love to have you stay, Bronwyn," Carolyn assured her. "I'm sure that we can manage to keep you busy."

"I know I will be here for a couple of days, at least, Carolyn," she answered. "Blackie wants me to look and see if I have any ideas for your Christmas pageant. He doesn't believe in waiting until the last minute, does he? And Molly and I are still visiting."

"Are you staying at the hotel?" Darlene asked, "maybe we can have lunch, or something. I'd love to get your slant on Emily Brent — the character I am portraying in our play. I fear Claymore has the wrong idea about her. The poor woman does get murdered after all, and…"

"It IS a murder mystery, Darlene," Margaret cut in.

"Ah, And Then There Were None — a classic," Bronwyn interrupted smoothly, avoiding the comment question about where she was staying. "...and you have such a good part! A wonderful character! It's not everyone who can play a poisonous woman like Brent well... I'm sure you are doing it splendidly."

Martha choked on her coffee.

"Martha, do take care of that cough," Carolyn advised sweetly. "It wouldn't do for you to get ill."

"Why, THANK you, Miss Tegan!" Darlene beamed. "Yes, Martha, do take care of yourself, The flu has been going around, and this long-term cold-bronchial thing. We can't have you getting sick. Not on top of the show."

"Bronwyn, I'd like you to meet Jim and Helen," Carolyn said, as the vet and his wife came up to the table.

"Delighted to meet you," Helen answered, smiling.

"Same here," James added. "Molly tells me that you might be staying for a bit. You don't have any pets that need to have their shots updated, or anything, do you?"

Bronwyn shook her head. "Sorry, no, although I do love animals, all animals… cats, dogs, horses… I have often wished I had one that could travel with me, but it's not… feasible. Wouldn't be fair to them." She smiled. "Although TJ seems to have taken a fancy to me."

From the next table over, Siegfried's eyebrows had shot up again at Bronwyn's comment about loving animals.

"TJ?" Helen looked puzzled.

"One of Carolyn's cats."

"You mean Dakota's," Daniel smiled, coming up and joining the bunch. "TJ is the picky one. Shy around people."

"Some of us are VERY shy..." Margaret murmured, glancing Siegfried's way, a predatory look in her eye. "Well, Miss Tegan, nice to have met you... I think I need to ask Mr. Matthews something about, well, something. Perhaps I will see you again?" Without waiting, she started moving away from the group, stopped and turned around, puzzled. "Now where did he go? He was here a moment ago... Oh! There he is!" and she was off for the far end of the room, where Sig was speaking with Blackie.

Across the room, Jess moved away from her husband to latch onto Tristan and whisper, "Okay, what's wrong with your brother?"

The ghost looked around to locate Sig. "At the moment, I'd guess he's under shark attack." He took a sip of cola. "Better him than me."

Jess shook her head. "That is not what I mean. He's been very not himself for a couple of days, and I want to know why."

"For once, not me." Tristan glanced over toward Bronwyn. "If you want my best guess..."

Mrs. Pierce grimaced. "She's nice. I don't get it. You really don't remember..."

"Not even a glimmer. Sorry, Jessamyn."

Shuddering, she said, "Look, don't use that word and I'll never call you his little or baby brother."

"Deal."

"And, if you can do something about Sig..."

"Later. Right now, I'm very content hiding over here," Tristan nodded.

"Be careful. Darlene's bad seed is around here, somewhere."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today?"

XXX

After a few minutes, Bronwyn strolled over to see Blackie. She knew he wanted to go over to see Thom and Candy that afternoon, so they did need to go look over the 'stage' area.

Margaret was still there, batting her lashes at the two men, both of whom looked like they wanted to be rescued in the worst possible way. As she came into Sig's line of sight, he looked up abruptly. The look on his face was so grim that Bronwyn drew up short. Ignoring Margaret's putout look, he moved in closer to his "old friend."

"Who did you marry? When?" Siegfried whispered loudly.

Bronwyn drew back. "Is it any of your business?" When he choked, she turned to look at Blackie. "Reverend, I believe you wanted me to look over the church. Shall we?"

Blackie glanced from Siegfried to Bronwyn and back again. "Er… yeah. I'll just grab Miss Drew, she's the head of the children's department, and we'll head on over."

Blackie's eyes searched the room. Landing on the teacher, he took Bronwyn's hand and guided her over to the other woman, leaving Siegfried trapped by the land-shark. Sig gave him a baleful look, but Blackie ignored him.

"Miss Drew?"

A smartly dressed, attractive, forty-odd-year-old woman turned her head, facing the pastor and the spirit.

"Reverend, I've told you, it's Amanda. But I suppose you will call me that when you are ready! What can I do for you?"

"I'd like you to meet Bronwyn Tegan," Blackie began. "She's in town for a bit, visiting the O'Caseys. She's in the theater business. I asked her, if you don't mind, to take a look at the church and see if she has any ideas about how we might stage the children's Christmas production in December."

"I wish my students planned ahead as much as you do!" Miss Drew grinned. "Bronwyn, it's lovely to meet you, and I must say, I am delighted to get the advice. Keeping children in line as a teacher is entirely different from herding them around on a small stage!"

"And adults are just taller children, I've found," Bronwyn returned, her lips forming a tiny grin. Very deliberately, she changed her focus, putting the disturbing scene with Mr. Matthews at the back of her mind.

The other woman smiled broadly. "That puts me in mind of something I read once. I can't remember who said it. A director was being berated for saying actors were cattle, to which the director replied..."

Bronwyn finished the line for her. "Alfred Hitchcock. 'I didn't say all actors were cattle... I said they should be TREATED like cattle'!" She laughed heartily. "I decided maybe he had a point after I started directing shows as well as acting in them."

"My! You direct, too?" Miss Drew asked, fascinated, "I'm so glad to meet you! I have a feeling you can be a big help to the Sunday school!" She nodded to Blackie. "I think the church is still open, shall we go? I have an appointment in about an hour and I am sure Bronwyn has plans, too."

Blackie nodded. "Sure. Right this way."

"I'll follow in a moment," Miss Drew said. "Soon as I say a good-bye to Mrs. Wight, I'll be along."

"Yeah. We need to do that, too," Blackie nodded.

Once the farewells were said, the trio went down the hall to the sanctuary. Dismayed, Blackie listened as the sound of a vacuum cleaner came from outside, and the smell of lemon oil hit their nostrils.

"Blast. I thought I'd given the volunteers time to get done with the cleaning and so on," Blackie muttered as he and Bronwyn opened the door. "Captain Gregg's crew has spoiled me, I guess. When they fixed up Aunt Jess' house, they got things done in a miraculously short amount of time."

"Hey, Rev!" Michael Post called from where he was studiously rubbing lemon oil into one of the pews. "What are you doing back this way? I thought you'd be downstairs… fellowshipping."

"Yeah, Blackie," Abner Dawes concurred, turning off the vacuum cleaner. "I figured we'd be clear to get the last of the cleaning done now. I want to catch the football game at two-o'clock."

"Me, too," Michael grinned. "Who's your friend?"

Blackie smiled to himself, as he thought, maybe we need to start putting out visitor name tags? Then, he introduced Bronwyn to the Schooner Bayites, concluding with, "Would we be in you guys' way if we took a look around? Planning Christmas stuff needs to start way beforehand, if we're gonna get it done, and Miss Tegan is somewhat of a pro. I thought I'd take advantage of her expertise while she's here."

Abner shrugged. "We're 'bout done, and we are done with the front. So whatever it is you need to do, go on. 'Sides, you're the boss."

"Tell the Elders that," Blackie sighed with a grin. "Nah. HE is, not me. I just manage. Sorta. Ladies..."

"Nice to meet you both," Bronwyn nodded. Her greeting was returned, then the three planners moved to the front of the room where the ghost contemplated the area thoughtfully. "Actually, you have a wonderful area to work with here," she began. "And…" she added, pointing toward the doors on either side of the church. "…Natural entrances and exits, and the center aisle allows for traffic flow. This area could handle at least twenty children, easily, if you are thinking about a group of children, singing, or what-have-you. Again, that is not my specialty…"

"Join the club," Blackwood smiled. "I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Most frustrating, when I hear Sean and Molly sing. They make it sound simple, even when I know it's not. Add to that, Daniel Gr… Miles can carry a tune, not to mention Tristan Matthews. I feel woefully inadequate, sometimes."

"Yes," Bronwyn frowned. "I used to get frustrated, hearing Siegfried sing as well."

"Siegfried Matthews can sing?" Amanda Drew queried. "That's right, he did play Pickering in My Fair Lady, but I think of that part more as talk-singing, like Higgins, not singing-singing, if you know what I mean." She smiled. "I hadn't realized you had visited Schooner Bay before, Bronwyn."

"I haven't," the spirit confessed, a blush coming to her cheeks. "I knew Mister Matthews a very long time ago… almost another lifetime, in fact. That's how I knew he could carry a tune." The actress paused for a moment, then added. "But I am detaining you…" She looked back to the stage area. "What seems to be the problem with staging your pageant?"

"Short people… kids," Amanda Drew grinned. "We get a fairly full house, as it were, on Christmas, and the adults that arrive late, or get drafted into helping, get seated near the back, and half the time they can't see their little ones perform. Hear them, yes, as we have worked out a fairly good sound system, see them, no."

"Then add to that sets, trees, costumes… the stage area gets really busy," Blackie went on. "Can you think of anything we can do, Bronwyn?"

"Lose the sets, and build risers," Bronwyn's answer was immediate. "But not flat risers. More like… what am I trying to say here…? A ramp. Taller in the back than the front. Make it about six inches off the ground, here…" She pointed to the area immediately in front of the first pew. "…Then slant it up so, that here…" she added, pointing to the area closest to the alter, "…It measures more like a foot. Build the risers in sections, so they are easy to store, and here…" she added, pointing to the side area. "Maybe build a few dozen wood blocks… about eighteen inches square. At least two dozen… depending on how they are arranged, loose, or in a stair-step formation on each side of the main stage, you have more risers, and multi-levels for the smaller children. There's enough room, and again they are easily made, easily stored, easy to paint. They act as scenery, too, or at least a suggestion of scenery. I've seen and done several plays with nothing but strategically placed wood blocks, instead of detailed scenery and sets."

"Now why didn't WE think of that?" Amanda Drew cried. "Of course! I've seen that effect for several presentations, and a play at the University of Maine!" She almost gave Bronwyn a hug. "Tell me, Bronwyn, do you have any ideas for something new and different we might try this year? Not terribly complicated, but something to go along with the usual Christmas fare?"

"I was going to ask the same thing," Blackie said. "Some of the older kids — that is the ones still in Sunday school, but approaching, say age eight and up, maintain they don't mind traditional, but want to do something new. They get 'bored'."

"Wel-l-l…" Bronwyn drew the word out. "The only thing I can think of offhand is, and I THINK it could be adapted for older children…"

"Yes?" Miss Drew prodded.

"Have you ever heard of Henry Van Dyke's tale, The Story of the Other Wise Man?"

"Of course!" Blackwood nodded, enthusiastically. "The story traces the lifelong search of a wealthy court physician and astronomer in ancient Persia named Artaban, who dedicates his life to finding the Messiah."

"I remember that story, too!" Amanda Drew added. "When I was little, my parents had a… I don't know what you call it… one of those open a flap every day story-board things that told the tale. Simplified, naturally. Artiban is blessed with brains, wealth and prestige, but he feels empty and confused, and turns to the ancient scriptures for some sign of life's true meaning. He discovers the prophecies concerning the imminent birth of the King of Kings. Then he sells his possessions to buy three precious gems to present to Jesus. He and his slave set out on a journey that takes them across the desert where they are to rendezvous with three other Magi."

"Right," Blackie interjected. "He spends the rest of the story following the Magi, always finding out they have left the city, just as he arrives in a new place. Over time, he is forced to sell the three jewels to help those less fortunate, and then he finally catches up with the Messiah, just AFTER he has been crucified."

"That's right," Bronwyn smiled. "Artaban is deeply depressed, feeling his life has been wasted. But on Easter morning, the now risen Jesus appears to Artaban and tells him that he has in fact, given him a gift far more precious than gems. He has helped his brothers in times of need, and Artaban now understands the true meaning of life." She paused. "Do you think your children… that is the children you have to work with would be interested in doing a play like that?"

"I think they'd be thrilled," Amanda Drew said bluntly. "Bronwyn, could you adapt the short story? Do you think it could be adapted? Not as a play adults would put on, but one for children?"

"I think it could be done," Bronwyn started. "I know the story well, but I've never put it on as a play, or seen it put on, but that doesn't mean it couldn't be. I could try, I suppose. At least you wouldn't have to worry about the rights, or anything, I don't think. The only issue might be, do you think it would be more of an Easter play than a Christmas one?" A frown crossed her face as she considered this.

Blackie shook his head. "Easter gives Christmas its meaning. Without what happens that Sunday morning, Christmas has no reason to be special. I could work with you, if it would help, Bronwyn," he continued. "I think it is a fantastic idea. And you know, we have at least four good writers in my family; Carolyn, the Ca… Daniel, Jenny, and Sean."

"I don't know how long I am going to be in town, yet," the woman answered. "But I suppose if Carolyn could loan me a typewriter… I do know how to type… I could give it a try, or at least get it started for you."

"Terrific. I can't wait to tell everyone," the pastor grinned. "I'm SO glad you came today!"

"I am, also," Miss Drew smiled. "But, Bronwyn, we're keeping you. Is there any chance we could talk about this tomorrow? "I have a free two hours, starting around eleven a.m. tomorrow. No classes. Please say you'll meet me to discuss this! Norries? Lunch? On me?"

"And me?" Blackie added. "Don't leave us hanging here, please!"

"Somehow, I don't think it would be good to refuse a man of the cloth," she said, giving them both a nod. "I'll see if I can find a copy of the short story tomorrow at the library and refresh my memory a bit. Shall I meet you at Norrie's, then?"

"Meet me here, we can walk over together," said Blackie.

"It's a date, then?" Miss Drew smiled. "I hate to draft and run, but I do have an appointment…"

"Fine," the other two agreed, and the teacher was out the door a moment later.

The pastor turned back to Bronwyn. "So what do you have planned for the rest of the afternoon? Activities with Sean and Molly? Carolyn and Daniel?"

"I'm not sure yet," Bronwyn smiled. "But now I think part of it might have something to do with looking up this story!"

"That's what happens in small towns," Blackie chuckled. "I like to keep my congregation busy. Idle hands and all that, you know."

"You're off to a rip-roaring start then!" Bronwyn laughed back.

END PART ONE