Haunting Danielle 27 The Ghost and the Mountain Man by Bobbi Holmes (great novels to read TXT) 📕

to this afternoon,” Danielle told him in a whisper. “Finding you, well, it sort of plays into that rather nicely.”

Bud frowned. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” He looked back to the open grave and watched as they lowered his casket. He found the sight unsettling, so he turned his attention to the surrounding crowd.

Danielle stood to his right, with Walt next to her. On his left stood Chris and Heather. Brian, the man he had once shot at and who couldn’t see or hear him, yet had helped bring him down from the mountains, stood some distance away, standing with the police officer he had encountered when first returning to Marlow House, along with two little boys. He remembered one of the little boys could see and hear him. Brian continually looked their way, and since Bud knew he couldn’t see him, he wondered what Brian kept looking at.

The young man named Cory, who’d rudely walked through him several times, was also there. He stood with a woman who, according to Danielle, was also a relative of his, named Ginny Thomas. Standing with their little group were two other couples, with one man holding a small child.

After they lowered the casket into the ground, the minister said a few more words, and then the crowd dispersed. Bud watched as Brian and the people he had been standing with headed their way.

A moment later, Brian stood talking to Chris and Heather while the other police officer stood talking to Danielle and Walt. The taller of the two boys who had been standing with the police officer wandered closer to the open grave, looking down curiously at the coffin. The smallest of the two boys stood directly in front of him, staring up at his face. Bud looked down at him. The boy smiled.

“I wanted to say goodbye,” the boy whispered. “Danielle says you’re moving on after your funeral. Would you do me a favor?”

Bud arched his brow at the boy and leaned down toward him. “What kind of favor could I possibly do for you?”

“Would you say hi to my mom for me?” the boy asked. “Tell her I love her.”

Bud’s smile vanished. “Your mother, she’s on the other side?”

The boy nodded.

“Evan, what are you doing?” the taller boy, who had just wandered over from the open grave, asked. “You look goofy talking to yourself.”

“I was just thinking out loud,” Evan said, flashing a smile to Bud.

Bud’s smile returned, and he gave Evan a wink while saying, “I’ll find your mom and give her your message. I promise.”

They stood by the Packard in the cemetery parking lot, Walt, Danielle and Bud.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the museum with us before you move on?” Danielle asked. “The exhibit is about you.”

Bud shook his head and sighed. “No. I’m ready to move on. There is nothing left for me here. And I’m anxious to see Alex. I need to apologize to him for what I thought all this time.” Bud looked at Walt and asked, “Do you want me to give your parents a message?”

Walt considered the question a minute and then said, “Tell my parents I’m sorry I’ve kept them waiting so long to see me again. I hope they understand.”

Bud smiled at Walt, reached out as if to touch his wrist and said, “I’m sure they do.” He disappeared.

“It’s too bad Bud couldn’t remember where his gold mine was, or where he stored all that gold he took out of it,” Walt mused.

“Why? The last thing we need is to find another treasure,” Danielle said.

When Walt and Danielle arrived at the museum, people were already milling around, some looking at exhibits while waiting for the formal unveiling of the newest one, while others chatted with friends or helped themselves to the refreshments offered in the lobby.

Millie Samson greeted Walt and Danielle when they stepped into the museum.

Giddy with the response to today’s program, Millie said, “If you hadn’t found Bud Benson’s remains up in those mountains, I can’t imagine we’d have this sort of response. Already we’ve received two nice donations and several new members to the historical society.”

“I’m glad it’s worked out for the museum,” Danielle said, glancing around.

“There are refreshments. Help yourself,” Millie said, pointing to one table set up in the lobby. “The program doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.”

“What is that?” Walt asked, pointing to another table in the lobby, this one filled with an odd assortment of glass jars, each half filled with a cream-colored substance.

Millie glanced at the table and then laughed. “Oh, that’s Heather’s donation. It’s sourdough starter. Gold miners would often take sourdough starter with them, which they’d used to leaven their bread. According to an article Heather showed me, some of them actually slept with the starter to keep it warm. She thought it would be a fun gimmick to give away sourdough starter at the exhibit opening. A clever idea—a little odd, perhaps.” Millie paused a moment, shrugged, and then added, “But the Glandon Foundation does so much for the museum.”

After Millie walked away, Walt and Danielle wandered to the table with the sourdough starter. Each jar sported a twine bow. Danielle picked up one jar and turned it in her hand. She looked at Walt and said, “This is one of the jars I gave Heather.”

“Planning to make sourdough bread?” a voice behind Danielle asked. Danielle turned around and found Lily standing behind her, Ian by her side, with Connor in Ian’s arms.

“Not really,” Danielle said, placing the jar back on the table.

“I guess Heather ignored the part in my instructions where I told her to just toss the discard the first week. Instead, she fed it.” Lily chuckled. “I need to give her some discard recipes or Frederickport’s going to face a flour shortage before long.”

“I don’t understand,” Walt asked.

“Think about it. If you start with one jar of starter, divide it, feed each jar, and then repeat