Free The Ghost by Danielle Steel Page A

as the snow swirled around him, and he made his way to the front door and made use of the well-polished brass knocker. But for a long time no one answered, and Charlie began to wonder if anyone was at home. There were lights on inside, but there was no sound, and the Irish setter sat down next to him and looked up at him expectantly as they waited.
    He had just given up, and started down the front steps again, when the door opened cautiously and a small white-haired woman looked at him, as though wondering why he had come there. She was neatly dressed in a gray skirt and pale blue sweater, she had a string of pearls around her neck, and she had snow-white hair pulled back into a bun, and brilliant blue eyes that seemed to examine every inch of him as he stood there. She looked like some of the older women he'd known in Boston as a child, and she seemed an unlikely candidate to be running a bed and breakfast. But she also made no move to open the door any farther.
    Yes? She opened the door only slightly wider to let the dog inside, and she looked up at Charlie with curiosity, but there was no sign of welcome. May I help you?
    I saw the sign ' I thought ' are you closed for the winter? Maybe she only ran it in the summer, he thought to himself, some of the bed and breakfasts did that.
    I didn't expect anyone over the holidays, she said cautiously. There's a motel on the highway to Boston. It's just past Deerfield.
    Thank you ' I'm sorry ' I ' He felt embarrassed to have intruded on her. She seemed so ladylike and so polite that he felt like some kind of hooligan barging in on her without warning or invitation. But as he apologized, she smiled at him, and he was startled at how alive her eyes were. They were almost electric, they were so full of energy and life, and yet he could tell from looking at her that she had to be in her late sixties, and he suspected that not long since she had once been very pretty. She was delicate and genteel, and she surprised him as she took a step back and opened the door wide enough for him to enter.
    Don't apologize, she smiled. I was just surprised. I wasn't expecting anyone. I'm afraid I forgot my manners. Would you like to come in for something warm to drink? I'm not really set up for visitors right now. I usually only get paying guests in the warmer weather. He hesitated on the doorstep as he looked at her, wondering if he should drive on while he still could, and find the motel she had recommended. But it was very tempting to come in and visit with her. He could see from the doorway how handsome the living room was. It was a beautifully built old house, possibly even from Revolutionary days, there were heavy beams overhead, carefully laid floors, and he could see that the room was filled with lovely antiques and English and Early American paintings. Come in ' Glynnis and I will behave, I promise. She indicated the dog as she said her name, and the big setter wagged her tail furiously as though endorsing the promise. I didn't mean to be so inhospitable. I was just startled. And as she spoke to him, Charlie found himself unable to resist the invitation, and walked into the warm, welcoming living room that seemed to engulf him like magic. It was even lovelier than he had suspected from the doorway. There was a fire burning in the grate, and there was a remarkably beautiful antique piano in the corner.
    I'm sorry to intrude. I was driving north to Vermont, and the snow got too heavy to drive any farther. He looked at her admiringly, thinking about how pretty she still was, and how graceful, as she walked into her kitchen and he followed. She put a big copper kettle on, and he couldn't help noticing that everything was spotless.
    What a beautiful home you have ' is it Mrs. Palmer? He remembered the name on the sign, and she smiled in answer.
    It is. Thank you. And you are? She looked at him like a schoolteacher expecting an answer, and this time he smiled. He didn't know who she was, or why he