Free The Haunting at Hawke's Moor by Camille Oster

less had free reign around the entire estate. Hopefully they
would collect more animals over time. Sheep for wool, pigs for meat
and horses for transport.
    "Alfie," she called as she walked
toward the stable, knowing he should be well back from bringing the
cow to the fields. There was a faint light coming from inside, but
nothing was heard. "Alfie," she called louder. "Where has that man
gotten to now?" she muttered to herself.
    Walking into the stable, she looked around,
seeing Alfie's form standing in the stable, a muck rake in his
hand. "Why didn't you answer me?"
    He didn't move; didn't even turn to
look at her, just stared at the wall. "Alfie," she said again, but
nothing.
    Tentatively, she took some steps
closer. He stood with the rake in his hand, just staring, his lips
slightly parted and his eyes glassy. "Alfie?" she said, touching
his arm. He startled violently and Anne jumped back with
shock.
    "Jesus Mary," he said, his arms up as if
protecting himself, looking around him wildly until he saw her.
    Anne's heartbeat was thundering in her ears.
"I was calling you and you didn't hear me. I called repeatedly,
right here, standing next to you." He was clearly touched in some
way. "Maybe you need to go lie down."
    "I'm fine."
    "No, I insist."
    He marched out of the stable without another
word, seemingly angry. Right now, she didn't care. He had scared
her half to death and she needed to figure out what to do about
him.
    Stroking along the skin exposed along her
neck, she returned to the house, feeling uncomfortable having him
out there somewhere where she couldn't see him. There was something
very wrong with him.
    "Are you sure you haven't been letting Alfie
into the house at night?"
    "I haven't," Lisle said.
    "I am not angry; it is just very important
that I know."
    "I told you I haven't. Besides, he's no
interest in me now, prefers to spend time on his own." The
bitterness was still evident in Lisle's voice. "He'd much rather be
in his room than mine."
    "I still hear things at night," Anne
said.
    "Well, it's not Alfie. He can't get in. The
doors are locked."
    "Unless he's found some way."
    "Alfie wouldn't hurt anyone," Lisle said
with confidence. "He's not like that. He's gentle, so very gentle.
You don't know him like I do." Anne wasn't so sure Lisle's
impressions could be trusted. "He's just changed, that's all," she
finished more quietly.
     
    A few days later, a carriage was
coming. She watched its long approach, hoping her letter had met
with success rather than another visit from the vicar, who would
firmly discourage any course of action to address inconsistencies
in the house. Obviously, a visit from the vicar would be a delight,
but she had pressing concerns she needed dealt with. And she had to
know what she was dealing with.
    Alfie wandered around outside. Anne viewed
him a little like a wolf prowling outside the house. He only ever
came inside for supper or unless called. Either way, they would
know soon. He wandered forward as the carriage drew closer, ready
to take the horse if necessary. Irrationally, Anne felt as if he
was standing between her and help. A ridiculous notion, but she
couldn't help it.
    As she watched, Alfie turned around. Their
eyes made contact for a moment. There was no expression on his
face.
    It had to be the medium. This needed
resolution.
    "Who is it?" Lisle asked behind her. "Is it
the vicar?"
    "Hopefully, someone who can help with
the house."
    Lisle didn't say anything, only shifted
around, straightening some things in the room.
    As the carriage arrived, Alfie stepped
forward to the horse, gently letting the beast smell him. Anne half
expected the beast to rear back in dismay, but it didn’t. Through
the window, a head appeared, covered in a velvet fez. "Miss Sands?"
he said through the window as if he wanted to be sure before he
committed.
    "Mr. Harleston, thank you so much for
coming."
    "How could I not when you described
such deplorable conditions, my dear lady." Opening the