The Ghost and Katie Coyle Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE PARANORMAL ROMANCES OF ANNE KELLEHER

  “What a fascinating book! Packed with energy and intrigue…‌!”

  Amy Wilson—Literary Times

  “Anne Kelleher knows how to draw a reader into a story.”

  “The writing was great and the imagery was vivid. Highly recommended.”

  “Kelleher excels at painting strong visuals through her masterful blending of just the right few words. Brava, Anne!”

  “I enjoyed everything about this story. Great, quick read, enjoyable details, and interesting plot. Look forward to reading more from this author.”

  “What a delicious surprise this story is! I lost myself in the well-developed characters. I felt like they were old friends. I could picture each moment, thanks to the author’s vivid descriptions.”

  A superb medieval romance with a time travel twist

  “A Once and Future Love is a passionate time travel romance that is based on a love that flows forever. Kelleher’s novel [is] a spectacular medieval romance with a twist.”

  ~5 stars from Amazon Hall of Fame Reviewer Harriet Klausner

  ABOUT THE GHOST AND KATIE COYLE

  A cry for help, echoing across the centuries, inspires a young teacher to rewrite history and rediscover a passion she only dreamed about…

  Life is good for Katie Coyle. She’s delighted with her new position as a professor of Irish literature and history, and enchanted by the old cottage on the cliff overlooking a beach that she now calls home. But she can’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—else calls the cottage home, and that in the night, echoes of an anguished voice calling for help haunt the beach below.

  When Katie first meets Derry O’Riordan, an Irishman claiming to study a set of standing stones in the middle of the woods, she takes his story at face value. But when her life is threatened and her job is jeopardized, Katie realizes that more is at stake than just the confirmation of a fascinating historical footnote. In the end, a man’s honor, the truth, and her own life hang in the balance.

  OTHER BOOKS BY ANNE KELLEHER

  Paranormal Romance

  A Once and Future Love

  The Ghost & Katie Coyle

  Love’s Labyrinth

  The Highwayman

  Fantasy

  Silver’s Edge

  Silver’s Bane

  Silver’s Lure

  Books for Special Readers

  How David Met Sarah

  When David was Surprised

  Celebrity Shorts

  Conjuring Johnny Depp

  Finding Southside Johnny

  Adult Romance

  Wickham’s Folly

  As Anne Kelleher Bush

  Daughter of Prophecy

  Children of Enchantment

  The Misbegotten King

  The Knight, the Harp & the Maiden

  THE GHOST AND KATIE COYLE

  Anne Kelleher

  To all the readers who aren’t afraid to admit they read romance

  PROLOGUE: 1799

  “The ship’s going down!”

  The anguished wail rose above the creak of straining timbers, carrying like a banshee’s cry over the howl of the wind. Derry O’Riordan, tenth Earl of Kilmartin, looked up with glazed eyes at the man who tugged and pulled at the chains on his wrist on the other side of the dark, fetid cabin. He watched grimly as the other men around him surged to their feet, a writhing mass of unwashed flesh, blood-stained rags and clanking chains.

  The air reeked of sweat and fear.

  “Open the hatch, you bastards!”

  “Give us a chance to save ourselves, at least!”

  “In the name of the Holy Mother, let us out!”

  The cries rose to a fevered pitch as the ship tossed back and forth, rolling from one side to the other as easily as a cork thrown carelessly into a stream. A heavy body knocked Derry on his side. Splinters dug into his hand.

  There was a ghastly screech of cracking wood, and the ship rose to nearly a ninety-degree angle, hung suspended and crashed down once more. This time Derry heard shouts from the men up on deck.

  The captives clung to each other and the floor, scrambling for purchase. A few had their eyes closed tightly, their lips moving in silent prayer. Others screamed their prayers to Heaven, but most of the vocal ones cursed their fate loudly and bitterly. Their voices rose as the lantern, the sole source of light, was extinguished in one mighty gust of wind that seemed to come from within the ship itself.

  Derry rocked back on his heels, his chained wrists held before him. Curse the God who brought him to this place! It seemed like a waste of time, when he was so soon to meet the Maker. Curses instead on his own head, and the foolhardy gesture of brotherly love that had brought him to this miserable end. Misguided fool that he’d been, he’d thought that taking his brother’s place would enable him to serve out his brother’s term of servitude, and allow his brother to care for the wife and child he adored. Derry had believed that a few greased hands, a few bribes here and there, and he’d return soon enough to his native land, his lands and title safe from British interference.

  And to Caitlin, Caitlin, whom he’d glimpsed on another ship just as he’d been herded onto this one. Pray God she made it to Australia safely, she and the child she carried, the child he’d known at once was his. He’d thought she was dead, but the sight of her had only reinforced his determination to go on living. At least they were going to the same place—or so he’d thought.

  He bit back a howled curse. At least, he thought bitterly, he’d never know what it was to be a slave. But you’ll never see home again, his mind screamed, so clearly Derry thought he must have spoken aloud. You’ll never see Caitlin again—never know your child. The pain that clenched his heart was more acute than anything physical. He was about to be cheated forever of the life he was supposed to lead, the woman he loved, and the child that was the fruit of that love.

  He struggled to his feet, even as the ship pitched and rolled violently on one side. He stumbled to his knees, and a failing timber fell squarely across his forehead. Lights exploded beneath his lids, and an unbearable pain burst from the back of his skull. A wave of water washed over him and he sputtered for breath. Dimly he felt the weight of the other men surging back and forth against him in the sudden deluge. This is not justice, he thought as darkness descended. Caitlin, my love, I’ll look for you in eternity, and I swear before God I’ll never rest till find you. Not in heaven and not in hell, and never beneath the waves. I’ll search a thousand years if I must. But I’ll find you, Caitlin, my love. I swear we’ll spend eternity as one.

  CHAPTER ONE

  1998

  “This is ludicrous—I can’t believe they expect you to live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. What are you going to do when it snows?” Josh Gramby waved a dismissive hand at the tidy Cape Cods and neat stone fences that lined the Massachusetts country road.

  Katie gripped the wheel of the car and gritted her teeth. He was being deliberately provoking. “Well,” she said, as she downshifted around a curve, “I’m sure they have snowplows and salt trucks. And I guess if the weather is too bad, they won’t mind if I cancel a class now and then. Geez, Josh. It’s beautiful here. Why are you focusing on something that won’t happen for months?”

  Out of the comer of her eye, she saw Josh cock his blond head in her direction. “It’s beautiful in Connecticut, too. And when it snows in Manhattan, the whole city doesn’t grind to a halt. And if the weather does get bad, at least in the city, you can get to the places you need to go. What if you get snowed in here?”

  “Josh.” Katie shook her head and one dark curl tumbled from the loose knot carelessly piled on top of her head
. She tucked it behind her ear as she glanced once more in his direction. There was no use arguing with him. His broad face had that bulldog look on it—the one that meant he knew he was right and he was about to browbeat her into knowing he was right, too. “We’ve been over this. I’ve accepted the job at East Bay and that’s that. I’m going to live in the house they’ve assigned me and that’s that, too. So there’s no point in arguing about it.”

  Josh rubbed a hand over his chin. He stared out the window at the passing scenery, and then turned back to her so quickly his starched blue oxford cloth shirt crackled. “And what about us, Kate? What about our plans? I thought we were going to be together as soon as I finished law school and you finished that endless dissertation.”

  Katie pressed her lips together and tried to concentrate on the road. She wasn’t going to let him bother her. Josh and his starched shirts and his perfectly pressed khakis and his definite ideas about the way things should be usually made her feel safe and secure, but today he was making her feel smothered. He was so damn sure he knew what was right for both of them. Sometimes he seemed to forget that she was twenty-nine and had been on her own just as long as he had.

  Up ahead, she saw a huge pothole and swerved just in time to avoid it. Josh let out a loud sigh but said nothing. Katie pushed her sunglasses back up her nose. It was hot inside the car, and her fair, freckled skin was covered with a light sheen of sweat. The country road wound up and down unexpected hills and around unexpected curves. Josh was right about one thing—this faculty housing did seem a bit out of the way. The campus was at least twenty minutes behind them. And even though the little town of East Bay was going to be her home for the next two years at a minimum, the road made sightseeing, not to mention arguing, impossible.

  She pointed to the directions that were written on a Post-it note stuck to the dashboard. “Can you read these, please? From that last stop sign?”

  Josh slowly let out a deep breath. His displeasure was obvious, but he took the small yellow slip off the dusty dashboard and frowned at it. “Once past the stop sign, go another two point three miles on Mill Comer Road. Have you been watching the mileage?”

  Katie nodded. “And we’re just about at two point three now. What next?”

  “Watch for the iron gates on your right—there’s a mailbox with a red flag and the number on your left.” Josh peered out the window. “There—isn’t that a red flag on a mailbox now?”

  Katie slowed, peering to her right. “Oh, yeah…” Her voice trailed off as she saw blue shingles and two minivans parked in the driveway. She glanced at Josh. “That wasn’t it. And you know it.”

  “Every mailbox has a red flag. What kind of landmark is that supposed to be?”

  She pursed her lips and mentally counted to ten. He wasn’t going to spoil this for her. He just wasn’t. “Josh, I know you’re upset that I’m not moving in with you right now—”

  “Kate, if you don’t want to live with me, that’s fine. I just don’t understand why you can’t find something in your field closer to the city. Are you trying to tell me that the only job in Irish Studies on the entire East Coast is in some out-of-the-way Nowheresville in Massachusetts? I thought Columbia offered you—”

  “Columbia offered me a research assistantship. Not a teaching job. And it wasn’t in Irish Studies—it was in the Lit Department. And yes, there’s another position in Irish Studies available—in South Carolina. Would you prefer it if I’d gone there?”

  “Damn it, Kate, you know what I mean. I thought we would be together once you were finished—” He hesitated for a split second, but his disdain was clear.

  “Playing around?” she shot back. Instantly she felt ashamed. There was no point in continuing to argue with him. She’d made up her mind, and his refusal to accept her decision was making her increasingly angry. Now she wished he’d stayed in Manhattan, or Fairfield, or wherever he liked.

  “I never said that.”

  “You never had to.” The car bounced violently over another pothole and the boxes piled on the backseat jounced up and down. Katie braced herself for the sound of shattering glass. But she heard nothing, and they drove on in silence.

  She tapped the brake as she noticed a red flag, barely recognizable, rising from a mass of leafy vines. She understood immediately why Fran, the secretary at the college, had mentioned the red flag so specifically. It was the only way to be sure the object beneath all the leaves was a mailbox. The late afternoon sun glinted on dull brass numbers. She slowed nearly to a stop and looked to her right. Massive iron gates rose out of a nest of ivy and vines and crumbling stone walls. The gates were covered in peeling black paint, but they stood open as if in welcome. A graveled drive led down a gentle slope.

  “I think this is it.”

  Josh sighed loudly. “Let’s go see the place.”

  Katie turned the wheel. The car moved down the driveway’s incline as hanging branches brushed against the hood and scraped against the sides. “Good thing you didn’t get that new car after all, Kate. You’d spoil the paint in this jungle.”

  Katie bit back the retort that rose to her lips. She peered through the verdant foliage that grew lush and thick on both sides of the drive. It was impossible to guess how wide the drive really was, for the trees and shrubs that lined both sides were so badly overgrown. A leafy branch intruded into the open window and she brushed it aside, but not before she caught a whiff of its fragrant green scent. “Mmm,” she smiled, “that’s nice.” Next to her, Josh only rolled his eyes. “Fran said the house hasn’t been occupied since last April. I guess no one’s been out to cut the trees back, either. But it’s beautiful, Josh—don’t you agree? Look, it’s like a green aisle.”

  She gestured with one hand. Shafts of afternoon sunlight streamed through the overhead branches. The whole drive was suffused with a gold-green glow. “And smell that—you can smell the ocean—and there must be an herb garden somewhere close.”

  Josh said nothing. Katie guided the car down the drive. Ahead, two pillars, made of fieldstone and about ten feet tall, rose on either side. They were topped with cracked stone urns. Ivy spilled out of the urns and twined around the pillars. “Now—the house is on the right—” She broke off, speechless at the sight that lay before them.

  A fieldstone cottage nestled on top of a low hill. The front door and a wide bay window overlooked a large pond. Katie stopped the car. “Look, Josh—just look how beautiful it is.”

  She got out, heedless of his reaction. All around her the air was moist and green with the scent of the water. She heard the trickle of running water and looking around, realized they were parked on a bridge. The bridge spanned a brook, which ran into the pond. On both sides, low stone walls were covered with ivy and wisteria vines. Katie slammed her door shut. The pond lay deceptively still in the sun. Then a fish leapt from the surface and dove down again with a loud splash. Katie followed the trace of a footpath, mesmerized. She had never expected anything like this. A stone bench was positioned on the opposite side of the pond beneath the drooping branches of an ancient willow. The grass was short, and newly mown piles of clippings lay haphazardly on the lawn between the house and the pond. Giant rhododendrons hugged the walls of the cottage and spilled over the low stone walls that separated the house from the woods. Katie walked a little closer, her sandals silent on the thick grass, and saw rock gardens gone to ruin. The tangy scent of herbs greeted her as she passed by, and she saw thyme and oregano, rosemary and lavender. Bees buzzed contentedly among the heavy purple heads.

  “Look at this, Josh,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Can you believe this place?” There was something magical about it. It was like an enchanted island in the middle of the forest, she thought, a place where fairies came to dance under the light of the full moon, a place where deer would come to drink in the cool of a summer dawn.

  “No, I can’t believe it at all.” His polished penny loafers crunched across the gravel of the drive. “This place is a
mess.”

  “A mess?” She turned to face him in disbelief. “It’s not a mess—it’s beautiful. It’s wild and wonderful and…” She paused, searching for words. Despite the fact that it was so overgrown, the place made her feel as though it had been waiting for her. She felt welcomed and protected. She spread her arms wide. “This is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It just needs someone to take care of it.” She stopped, startled. She hadn’t expected to say that. She hadn’t even been thinking that, when she’d started to speak. Where had that thought come from? But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to be true. Pond House desperately needed someone to take care of it—someone to clip back the vines and prune the trees and weed the herb beds. And plant flowers and cut the rhododendrons back—images of gardening catalogs flashed through her mind. She could imagine what her mother and her twin sister, Meg, would say when they saw the place. They’d have trowels and shears in their hands before they even set foot in the house.

  Suddenly she felt a rush of energy and her mood, which had been weighed down by the conflict with Josh, lightened. “Come on.” She reached for his hand and smiled at him. “Let’s go see the house.”

  He allowed her to drag him over the lawn past the pond and over the footbridge. On the bridge she gasped once more. “Look—there’s a little waterfall and another pond.” A shallow stream of clear water spilled over the edges of a rock ledge. Dark-green watercress grew on the banks and yellow butterflies darted in the long leaves of orange lilies clustered by the bridge. “I can’t believe how beautiful it is,” she murmured.

  Josh said nothing. He was staring at the woods on the far side of the pond, where another stream flowed out and disappeared into the trees. “I guess the beach is that way.” He raised his hand as if to point, then stopped and frowned. “Wait a minute. There’s someone in those trees watching us. Hey—you there!”