The GAMM characters in this story belong to R.A. Dick (A.K.A. Josephine Leslie) and Twentieth-Century Fox. We're just borrowing them and make no profit from the writing of this tale.

This is a "What If?" story. What if the major GAMM roles were reversed and Carolyn Muir was the ghost and Captain Daniel Gregg was the widowed writer? Other canon characters, most notably Martha, Candy, Jonathan, Scruffy and Claymore are here — shuffled and rearranged a bit, and you may trip across a few other familiar names, but they will be different also from their namesakes in another GAMM universe of which these writers are very fond.

Thank you, and on with the show.

The Ghost and Captain Gregg

Mary and Amanda

Chapter One

August, 1968

The overly tidy, spacious room felt terribly cramped as Captain Daniel Gregg prepared to broach the subject about which he had called the meeting with his late wife's parents, Ralph and Marjorie Darlig.

"We're glad you came over today," Ralph said with forced geniality. "The applications for Dexter and Mary Meredith's Academy for Young Ladies came today. All we need is your John Hancock, and then Jonathan and Candace will be able to start school right after Labor Day."

Clearing his throat, Daniel drew himself up straight in his chair. "While that is — considerate of you to go to the trouble of getting the papers, Ralph, I won't be signing any of them." He did not add that he had never asked them to get the applications.

The older couple exchanged perplexed glances before looking back to their son-in-law. "What do you mean?" Marjorie asked.

"I will not be sending my children to boarding school," the Captain said firmly. "I do realize that it has been somewhat difficult for you to take care of them while I wrapped up things with the Navy, but now that I am officially, honorably retired, I will be parenting them full time. Furthermore..."

"Now see here, Daniel," Ralph began to sputter. "It's not that, at all. We simply want the children to have the best. Dexter is an excellent prep school, and Candace really needs some polishing... She's entirely too much of a tomboy. Mary Meredith did Melanie a world of good, and will do the same for her daughter."

"Candy has backbone, and I won't have some prissy finishing school take the spirit out of her, or a prep school doing that to Jonathan," Daniel snapped. "I am their father, and will be seeing to their education as well as anything else they need. I have already spoken with Martha Grant and she has agreed to come and help with the cooking and so forth."

"We — don't have an extra room for another servant," Marjorie blinked owlishly.

Daniel frowned to himself. He did not like the tone with which she said 'servant.' However, he concealed his negative reaction and went on with his purpose. "That is just fine. You see, we will not be living with you. I have taken out a lease, with an option to buy, on a cottage in Maine." Now came the hard part. This deal had been in the works for several weeks and Miss Grant had been helping him get everything ready. "The children, Martha, and I will be moving within the next week — two weeks, at most."

"What?" the Darligs exclaimed.

"You can't just uproot them like this! They've undergone so many shocks and changes. They just lost their mother!" Ralph fumed.

"It has been a year," Daniel corrected him. "I lost my wife, too, you know, and my career. I have undergone just as many shocks and changes. We need a fresh start, and that is what we are going to have." He could see his in-laws forming a dozen counter arguments, so he rose. "That is my final word on the matter. I hope we can part on amicable terms. You are, after all, the only grandparents my children know." He extended his hand to Ralph, forcing the older man to take it or be impolite, kissed Marjorie's cheek, and took his leave.

As he walked out to his car, Daniel mused that the battle for which had been awarded his Purple Heart, had not been as trying as that encounter.

XXX

Daniel Gregg pulled onto Oxford Drive and then onto the thin strip of concrete that constituted his driveway in front of the small rental house that had been home to his children, housekeeper, and self for the past few weeks. After glancing in the metal mailbox, he inserted his key and started to open the door, but before he could, it swung open to reveal the older woman who had evolved into his right-hand lately.

Martha Grant greeted him with a highball and a lifted eyebrow.

"Well, Captain? How did the battle go?"

Taking the offered drink, he stepped inside, shrugging off his light coat.

"Not quite as badly as I thought it would," he answered, hanging the coat inside the hall closet. "But somehow, knowing Ralph, I have a feeling the battle has only just begun. They weren't happy at all."

Martha stepped back. "I can't say as I blame them; I'd hate to lose two good kids like Candy and Jonathan, too."

He took a sip of the drink as he assessed the future, only half-listening to her comment. "That didn't really qualify as a battle, simply a minor sally. The fight's only begun, if I read things correctly. We may be in for a war. I hope you're ready, Martha." Shaking off the grim mood, he deliberately lightened his tone to ask, "Anything happen while I was gone?"

The housekeeper shrugged. "Well, it sort of depends on how you look at it... kind of."

"What the devil does that mean?"

"You won't like it, but it really wasn't the children's fault... more a series of unfortunate events..."

"Martha..."

"Scruffy got on a tear and stole Jonathan's tennis shoe. He wanted to romp. Jonathan took off after him, then Candy started running after both of them, and they bumped into that little table in the hall and knocked it over."

"Is the table damaged?" The Captain looked alarmed. "It was a favorite of Melanie's."

"No, the table is fine, but the vase displayed on it was smashed beyond repair." She sighed. "I saved the pieces so you can see, but I am afraid it is hopeless. I told you that this house was too small for a dog."

"Aye, it is. But the children need a playmate, and until I could wrap up my affairs with the Navy and secure the house, I felt it essential that they have some companion besides each other. Where are they now?"

"I didn't punish them. As I said, it was not their fault. It was just an accident and I'm more glad that they were not cut on the shards than upset about a vase."

"Of course," the Captain nodded. "But where ARE the children?"

"I didn't send them to their room. They just went there. Both looked scared that you'd be angry."

Recalling the plethora of probably at least slightly valuable knickknacks artfully displayed at their grandparents' house, he had a feeling he knew why they were so frightened. Blast it. "I will go reassure them."

Outside the door to the bedroom, which was almost, but not quite closed, Daniel paused, hearing the sound of coins clinking and voices coming from within.

"Help me count it again, Jonathan," came the voice of his daughter, Candace. "We have to have more than a dollar and fifty cents, here."

"I don't think so, Can," her brother answered. "We spent some when we got the ice cream in the park the other day, remember?"

"Dad'll ground us for sure if we can't fix that vase," Candy mourned. "Why did you chase Scruffy? You should just let him have your shoe."

"He'd chew it up!" Jonathan protested. "Then I'd be in trouble anyway."

The girl shook her head in disgust and then brightened. "Maybe we could pay on lay-away? Like Grandfather did for his car and make payments every month until it's paid for?"

"How long d'ya think that'd be?"

Candy sighed. "Forever."

The Captain smiled, thinking of how many times his late Aunt Violet — his foster parent after his parents died, had punished him for doing similar things during the course of growing up. Removing his grin, the seaman tapped on the door lightly and waited for a moment, noting the scuffle coming from within, and the whispers of his son and daughter. As he tapped a second time, a small fearful voice asked quietly: "Who's there?"

"Candy? Jonathan? It's Dad."

"OUR Dad?" Jonathan answered, stalling to beat the band. There were more scuffles.

"Yes. May I come in, please?"

"Er — just a minute," Candy squeaked. "Hang on — er — please. Sir."

Daniel flinched. Being addressed as "Sir" was all very fine when he was a Captain, but the salutation didn't seem right coming from his children, unless something extreme was going on, and this did not qualify. He counted to ten, counted to ten again, and tapped on the door. "Children, I would like to come in now, if you don't mind."

"Uh... okay," came the wavering voices from the other side.

As he entered, two small figures snapped to attention from their places at the end of their respective beds.

"Hello, Sir!"

He frowned and studied their faces carefully. "Now what kind of greeting is this after my long day? Don't I get a "Hello, Dad," at least?"

Candy and Jonathan snuck a quick glance at each other, and then mumbled, "Hello, Dad... Hello, Dad."

Deciding it was best to get straight to the point and thus allay their worry; he smiled kindly and commented, "That's better. Sit down, please." When they were both settled on Jonathan's bed and he was faced opposite them on Candy's, he continued. "I heard there was something of an accident today?"

"Well, sorta," Candy gulped.

"It wasn't Scruffy's fault," Jonathan said. "He's just a puppy and not used to us... not yet. We'll train him to be good, if you'll let us keep him."

Daniel frowned again. "Of course you can keep him. He's a gift, from me to you, and it is not a gentlemanly thing at all to take back a gift." He was also fond of the little dust mop, but that was beside the point. "I simply said I heard there was an accident today, but you didn't let me get to my question."

"Oh. Sorry," Candy volunteered for them both. "We didn't mean to interrupt you."

Her father nodded. "My question is, was anyone, human or puppy, hurt?"

"No," they chorused.

"Good. That is all that is important." Seeing the doubt on their faces, he added, "It might be best to not mention to Cousin Hazel that the vase is beyond repair. If I had realized a dog would break the thing, I probably would have gotten you a pet years ago. Hazel's taste has always been somewhat suspect."

Candy's blue-green eyes grew wide, and her mouth tipped up at the corners. "You really aren't mad?"

"No... Not this time. Accidents happen, and I am very aware of that."

"We had more room and Grandma and Grandpa's house," Jonathan cut in. "This place is kinda little."

"But, we like it here, better, with just you and Martha," Candy said quickly. "Right, Jonathan?"

"Right," her brother agreed. "Besides, we couldn't have a dog if we lived there. Maybe we need to tie Scruffy to our bed when we aren't playing with him?"

"He wouldn't like it," Candy added, "But, he wouldn't run around so much and get us into trouble."

"You can still have the money from our allowance," Jonathan said bravely. "Or maybe we could go to Woolworth's and find you another vase?"

"I think that the vase was purchased somewhere slightly more upscale than Woolworth's," Daniel smirked. Certainly it had looked it, even if it was the most hideous looking monstrosity that he had ever seen. He stood up, slowly, still facing them. "If you are done in here, why don't you come into the living room and join Martha and me? I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Are we in trouble after all?" Candy asked, looking up at her tall father.

"No. What I want to talk about has nothing to do with Scruffy, or the vase."

"Oh — right."

"Shall we go now?" he continued, reaching down to lay a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Okay," Candy nodded, taking the lead.

XXX

When they had situated themselves on the lumpy piece of furniture that could barely qualify as a couch, the Captain began his speech. "I believe you just stated your awareness of the fact that our current residence is rather close quarters. As Martha has pointed out, it really is too small for a dog, and I would add much less for four people." He held up a hand, forestalling the tidal wave of arguments for keeping the animal. "I am not getting rid of Scruffy. Belay that idea. We are moving to a larger place, almost immediately. I have been in contact with a realtor, one Claymore Muir, who has managed to locate a place that meets with my approval. You will have your own beach, as a matter of fact, and the pictures of the house make it appear much more spacious than this place. It will not be a castle, but if we pull together, it can be a home."

"Our OWN beach?" Candy gasped. "Where? There's no place like that around here."

"Quite right. It's in Maine, in a little town called Schooner Bay."

"Maine?" Jonathan frowned. "That's not Philly. We're going to move? Leave everyone here?"

"Yes. That is what it means. But I am sure they will come visit us."

"In due time, but not too soon, I hope," Martha added, under her breath.

"Do I get to bring all my stuff?" Candy asked, "my snow globes, my rock collection, my books and..."

"And my ship models?" Jonathan interrupted her, "and my marbles and baseball cards, and my book about whales?"

"Of course!" the Captain answered, and looked surprised that they had even asked. "We will be bringing all of your things, to be sure. The new house comes furnished, so I imagine not much furniture will be coming with us — the table that hit the decks today, and my antique desk and chair, but the rest will stay here, I think. There would be no place for it where we are going. I have arranged for an estate salesman to handle that."

"Good," Candy said, giving the couch a thump. "But I don't think even poor people want this moth-eaten old thing. The springs are all broken. Do we each get our own room?"

"In time," Daniel smiled. "But for a while, I think you two will share quarters."

Jonathan made a face. "I hope it's bigger quarters than our bedroom now."

His father raised an eyebrow. "My understanding, from the dimensions I was given by Mr. Muir, your new room will be almost twice as big as the one you have now. It's an old house, and they built big rooms in those days. It was designed as a nursery, and..."

"NURSERY!" Candy cried. "We aren't babies!"

"Of course you aren't," Martha stepped in. "But, listen you two — after your father told me about the house, I started reading up on the area, and it's houses and people and things. In Victorian times, when the house was built, the nursery simply meant the room where children slept and/or lived. In theory, children could be occupying the 'nursery' until you are much older than you are now. It's just a word — like saying boyfriend. Even when you are all grown up, you can be called a BOYfriend."

Jonathan looked up at the housekeeper. "How long have you known about the house, Martha? You are coming with us, aren't you?"

"Only a few days, ago, and of course I am," the housekeeper grinned. "If I didn't come with you all, you'd starve."

"Okay, then," Candy nodded. "If we get a bigger room, and Martha is coming, I guess I will come, too."

"Me, three," said Jonathan, just as Scruffy barked.

"I believe that makes it unanimous," Daniel grinned. "Now, listen, mates, we have a lot of work to do between now and when we leave. Can I count on your help?"

"Us?" Candy asked, giving her father a startled look. "You want us to help you?"

Daniel nodded. "Of course I do. We're all in this together. I'm sorry if you don't like the idea, but you need to pack your own things. Decide what to keep and whatnot, and..."

Both children shook their heads and then Candy spoke again.

"No... We love it, Sir... Dad! We're all working as a team!" Excited, the two children enclosed their father and Martha in a group hug.

XXX

The next few days flew by as the little family packed and prepared for the move. Daniel had to take one day off from the task to meet with his lawyer. After cajoling and pleas fell on deaf ears, the Darligs had resorted to threatening to sue for custody of the children. The attorney had assured the Captain that they did not have a case and wished him good luck in his new life.

The day before the Gregg family was scheduled to take possession of Gull Cottage, a car that had seen better days and whose muffler was too badly in need of replacing to pull off the sneaking up to the place that its owner would have liked to accomplish, made its way to the house.

The lanky man, who got out of the car muttered under his breath repeatedly, "She's not going to intimidate me. She's not going to scare me." The expression on his face said he was lying to himself as he opened the door to Gull Cottage.

"Mrs. Muir? Yoo-hoo?" he called out. For a moment, it seemed as if there would be no response, and for a moment, Claymore Muir dared hope that the bane of his miserable existence might have chosen to go off to the happy hunting grounds — or anywhere but there.

Suddenly, a lovely woman in old-fashioned clothes appeared right in front of him. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my house?" she demanded, giving him a mental shove. "Shoo. Go on. And don't come back."

Flinching, he resisted the push. "I — I came to tell you I've rented the place to a new family."

Carolyn Muir frowned momentarily, then crossed her arms and shrugged. "I can run them off just as easily as that spinster you tried to ensconce here three years ago."

"NO, you can't! I'm sick to death of you scaring off my clients! I—I'll have the place leveled!" Claymore fumed. "I have to do something to generate revenue from this place."

"You have no right to do anything with it!" the specter snapped.

"YES, I do! I'm your legal heir!"

"You are not. This house was in my family for a generation before I married. The Muirs have NO right to it!" Carolyn yelled back. "Not a one of you miserable rats! Not you, nor any of your renters! Now, get out!" Her sentence was punctuated by a small gale blowing up from nowhere to push Claymore toward the door, with various small, heavy objects left behind by past renters hurtling at his head. As he pitched out onto the porch, the wind calmed and the door slammed shut. For a half second, he considered going back inside, but it only took a quiver of thunder to convince the lanky coward to turn tail and run back to the waiting automobile.

XXX

When he saw the majestic house appear on the horizon, Captain Gregg felt an immense relief. The long drive had been wearing; he had to admit, if only to himself. They pulled up to the stone fence and parked, Daniel musing that it was a good thing no other cars were around. Pulling a U-Haul trailer made parking the automobile feel somewhat like docking a battleship.

"We are home," he announced.

"It's big for a cottage," Candy commented.

"I'm sure we'll manage to fill it up," his dad smiled. "Let's start on the unpacking."

"Looks like something out of one of those gothic movies," Martha muttered. "Any second now, we'll hear 'Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderly again,' whispered on the breeze."

"Huh?" Jonathan asked as he pushed open the door to let Scruffy out.

"Just a book, Jonathan," Martha replied.

"Well, since I thought I might try some writing, this is the perfect atmosphere then," the Captain grinned. "Cheer up, Martha. We're having an adventure."

"We're also having company," she nodded, glancing in the rearview mirror, as an old car rattled up behind them. "I hope they don't want refreshments just yet."

"Maybe they brought some as a housewarming gift?" the Captain suggested. He paused to help Candy and Martha out of the car, then strolled back to meet the thin man hurrying toward them. "Ahoy, there."

"A-are you Captain Gregg?" the fellow asked edgily.

"Indeed I am," he nodded, and gestured toward Martha. "This is my housekeeper, and friend, Martha, and..." He glanced at his children who were now walking the top of the stone gate like a tightrope. "My children, Candace and Jonathan." Martha nodded and continued pulling items out of the car as and Candy and Jonathan jumped off the fence to stand near their father. "Would you by any chance be Mr. Muir?" Daniel continued, extending a hand.

Claymore blinked, adjusted his glasses, and reluctantly took it. "I — er — I made a mistake, Captain."

"Was the price wrong on the lease?" Daniel frowned. "I suppose, if it's not too much of an increase, I won't quibble, but it cannot be very great of one, or I will have to consult an attorney. We did have a deal, sir."

"It's not that," Claymore gulped. "I — I changed my mind. I can't lease this place. It's — erk — got sentimental value been in my family for more than a hundred years. Well, it's over a hundred years old, and my great-great-uncle married the owner ninety-odd years ago, and I do mean odd. I just can't do that."

"You should have thought of that sooner. As I said before, we had a deal, and you cannot go back on it now," the Captain responded, fixing him with a steely gaze that had terrified more than one ensign over the years.

Claymore flinched. This guy was as scary as a ghost! "I — I brought your check." Then, because he hated to lose money almost as much as he loathed pain, he added, "But, we could, you know just apply it to the lease on another place. Keep all the same details on the agreement, except, of course, the address?"

"I read through all your other ads, and this is the place I prefer," Daniel said. "As I understand it, Gull Cottage has been listed for some time, so this spurt of family sentiment is somewhat hard to believe."

Claymore paled. "I — I was thinking of you all. Of the children your housekeeper. It's not safe out here."

"I was not aware that Schooner Bay had a high crime rate?" Daniel drawled, folding his arms over his chest. "Or was prone to earth tremors."

"Er — no, none of that. But — it's isolated. If anything happened, it'd take forever for anyone to know. And then there are the winds. It's very, very windy. The children could just blow away! We have small person advisories all the time! And the house has a lot wrong with it. I fudged a little in the description. You'll be living like pioneers in there. I just can't have that on my conscience."

"I think you should let me worry about such things," Daniel shook his head. "I do appreciate your interest, but I believe we'll be happy here. Trust me; compared to barracks, this is a palace." As he spoke, he began heading to the back of the car where he lifted out the first pieces of their luggage. "This place is exactly what I hoped it would be — I can see that already. But you're welcome to give us a hand getting stuff inside, if you're truly concerned."

"I'd love to, but I have a bad back, and you shouldn't go in there!" Claymore insisted. "Terrible things happen here. Just ask anyone in town. This place has a history."

"Silly superstitions," Daniel snorted. "Come along, troops. I'm ready to get to work." He held out his hand. "Mr. Muir?"

Claymore took his hand and shook it. "Well, welcome to Schooner Bay."

Captain Gregg rolled his eyes, shook the man's hand and then pulled away. "Thank you, but what I really need is the key."

"Key?" The landlord looked at him blankly.

"The keys to my house. We ARE staying."

"Oh... well..." Claymore drew a set of old-fashioned keys from his pocket, started to hand them to the seaman and then seemed to change his mind. "Well, if you are determined — and I STILL think you are going to change your mind — I better let you in. Show you around the place."

"Fine," the Captain nodded. "Candy, Jonathan, both of you, go get your personal suitcase from the back seat."

"Right, Sir," Jonathan saluted smartly.

"Belay the "Sir," and cast off," he added with a slight frown, then he reached into the car and handed Claymore a box. "You don't mind carrying this, do you? I don't believe in wasting manpower."

"Oof! Uh, no..." Claymore responded, taking it. "But I'll be carrying it out to the car again when you leave..."

"I'll be the judge of that," Daniel sniffed.

Suddenly Candy, who had been staring at the house, spoke up. "Maybe that lady up there can help us move in."

Claymore blinked, and seemed to cringe. "What lady?"

"Why, the lady up on the..." Candy started to point. "Hey! She's gone! There was a woman..."

"What woman?" Martha asked, joining them, holding Scruffy's leash in one hand and a bundle of linens in the other.

Candy shook her head slowly. "She... it's gone now, but I thought I saw a woman on the roof."

Daniel grinned. "The roof, sweetheart? Not likely."

"Well, not the ROOF, but up there." Candy pointed to the white-railed structure on the roof of the house. "On that platform thingie."

"That's a widow's-walk, my dear," Daniel smiled indulgently. "I'll explain its history later. But there's no one here but us. It must have been a trick of the light."

Candy shook her head. "I guess so."

Daniel gave a shrill whistle. "All right, mates! Everyone loaded? Forward, march!"

XXX

As they crossed the threshold, Candy asked, "Dad? May we go look at our room?"

The Captain glanced at the stairs. "I don't see why not. Go on, then. You might as well stow your gear and start making this place into a home. I imagine the nursery is upstairs, isn't it, Mr. Muir?"

"Right," the reedy man answered automatically, then began coughing in a fake manner. "You know, you shouldn't let them run around alone like that."

The Captain's face darkened. "In their own house?"

"Well, erhem. It's — it could be risky, you know." He coughed again as the children, heedless of his act, charged up the stairs with their bags. "And, this place is so musty and dusty. Damp. Mildewed."

"So, we'll air it out," Martha shrugged. "And, I'm a good cleaner."

"Air it out?" Claymore paled. "You mean open the windows?"

"That is how you get rid of mustiness, man," Daniel glared, pushing past him toward the kitchen. "The galley is in here, I take it?"

"Uh, yeah," Claymore answered. "It is a bit old-fashioned..."

"The HOUSE is old-fashioned," Daniel snapped back. "That's why I leased it. I didn't want modern, and I am done with ships for the time being."

"But nothing works," Claymore protested. "Nothing at all. I shouldn't have leased this place and..."

"But you did, and I'm handy," the Captain answered. "So don't worry. Besides, Martha can perform miracles in the kitchen. I have ultimate faith in her."

Martha blushed, but looked pleased. "Thanks, Captain, but for this kitchen you may need Martha WASHINGTON."

"Nonsense," Daniel remarked, putting down the box in his hands marked 'dishes.' "I believe I would like to see the rest of the house, now."

"You would..." Claymore muttered.

As they came back to the main hallway, they met Jonathan, who was now back downstairs and standing by the front door. "Scruffy won't come inside, Dad."

"He's just frightened of a new place," Daniel answered. "Pick him up and bring him inside. Where's your sister?"

"She's still upstairs."

"I suggest you join her while we inspect the living room."

"Okay." In a blink, the boy was gone.

Jonathan found Candy in the nursery. "Isn't this the greatest?" she said, enthusiastically. "We've got a window seat and there's even extra beds."

Jonathan craned his neck looking all around. "Yeah. We can put all our books on the shelves and still have room for my model ships."

"And maybe start a seashell collection," Candy said. "I bet the beach has a ton of cool ones." She looked from one side of the room to the other. "We may not have our own rooms, but this one's twice as big as our old room. Maybe bigger."

"Way bigger," her brother agreed. "It's better, too."

"Yeah." Candy opened the closet and stuck her head in, then turned to look back at her brother. Whatever comment she had been about to make was lost as she saw a woman perched on the window seat watching them.

"H-hello?" she gulped. Then, blinking, said, "You're the lady I saw on the roof!"

Jonathan spun around, his eyes growing huge. "How'd you get in here? Who are you?"

"I told you, Jonathan, she's the lady from the roof," Candy said.

"That doesn't tell me who."

"I'm Carolyn Muir, and you are in my house," the woman said.

"It's our house now," Jonathan stated. "Our daddy signed a lease and everything."

"He may have signed a lease," the woman said, "but it's not your house. It's mine. That louse down there had no right to rent out this place. Look. I don't have anything against you or your dad; I just don't want strangers cluttering up my home."

The kids exchanged looks, and then Jonathan frowned and asked, "What's a louse?"

Carolyn flushed. "It's a word I probably shouldn't have said in front of you and you shouldn't repeat, even if Claymore is one. It's not at all nice, and you can't use it about even not so nice people."

"You did."

"I did say I shouldn't have said it, did I not?" she retorted.

"How did you get in here without us seeing or hearing you?" Candy asked.

Carolyn shrugged elegantly. "I'm a spirit, as such I can—" She vanished and reappeared several feet away. "And I can do other things. There are benefits to being dead, but drawbacks too. No one listens to you unless you throw a tantrum, and maybe not then."

"Yeah," agreed Jonathan. "Grownups just tell you to act like a big boy — or girl," he added, looking at his sister.

"We'll listen to you," Candy said.

"That's very sweet," Carolyn smiled, and then remembered herself. "However, I do not want company. Now, please, run along and let me get back to my musing." She adopted a semi-fierce expression. "Of course, since you've all disturbed my rest, you might tidy things up down there. Tidy it a bit. The dust bunnies are terrible. And Claymore's renters usually leave in a terrible hurry and make a mess."

Feeling as if they had been dismissed, the two kids walked out.

"I like her," Candy whispered. "I don't think she's as grumpy as she wants us to think."

"I bet Dad'll be grumpy when we tell him what she said," Jonathan countered.

XXX

Meanwhile, downstairs as the children met their co-inhabitant, the adults had their own conversation.

"Now, the tour?" the Captain patiently prompted.

"You know, sir, dogs are supposed to have excellent instincts, so if your pup there doesn't like this place, you might want to think about listening to him. Sorta, I mean, if he could talk. If he could, it is a he, right? He'd say don't do it."

"Since HE is just a puppy, he has not had time to develop instincts," Daniel said dryly. "Now, I'm going to inspect this place. Please be kind enough to conduct the tour."

Shaking his head, Claymore began to lead the way to the living room. As they entered the still dark room, for a second, Daniel thought they had found Candy's lady. He beheld the image of a lovely woman coolly watching them come into her domain. Then, he blinked as the lights came on and he realized it had just been a painting. "What a vision," he breathed softly. "Who is she?"

"Ah, well, that's..."

"She's beautiful," Martha added.

"But who is she?" Daniel demanded. I have to know who this woman is, his thoughts went on.

"Ah the original occupant of Gull Cottage..." Claymore started, and thunder boomed. "...OWNER!" he added hastily. "My great-great aunt — by marriage, that is... Carolyn Marie Williams Muir."

"She's a sight to behold," the seaman said softly. "Beautiful."

"Beautiful in looks, but not in actions," Claymore whispered, but the Captain didn't seem to hear him.

"Maybe she'd like a little sunlight," Martha said, throwing open the shutters. Doing so, she glanced around. "This room needs painting," she added. "Maybe yellow..." There was another boom of thunder. "Or maybe not..." she added.

"I think I would rather see the walls in sea green," said Daniel. "The color would highlight the portrait admirably."

Candy and Jonathan came back into the living room from upstairs and stared up at the painting, impassively.

"What do you think of her, children?" the Captain asked.

"I'll never be that pretty," Candy frowned.

"You already are," the Captain assured her; though he barely glanced at the girl so intent was he on studying the painting.

"She's not happy, though," Candy continued.

"Yeah. She wants us to leave," Jonathan nodded.

"She wants you to... uhm... erk..." Claymore quaked, and turned a sickly green.

"Now, now, I think she is quite hospitable looking," the sea captain said, glancing toward his children, and then back to the portrait. "She looks as if she is welcoming us... see those beautiful emerald eyes! I've never seen anything like them!" Then he glanced down at Candy and Jonathan and smiled, good-naturedly. "My dear ones, the lady in the portrait isn't alive anymore. She died a hundred years ago."

"Yeah, we know," Candy said.

"She told us," Jonathan added.

Martha and the Captain smiled indulgently and gave Claymore a look that was half-amused and half-apologetic.

"I encourage my children to use their imaginations," he said, almost daring the quivering squid to make any kind of depreciating comment toward his progeny.

"She wants to see the house clean and tidy with no dust bunnies!" Candy almost shouted, as she scampered off toward the front door.

"What?" This time, the seaman did look startled.

"That wind again..." Claymore tried. "The noises will keep you up all night..."

"Weird wind," Martha commented.

"Shall we inspect the upstairs?" Daniel asked.

With a shrug, Claymore led them toward the stairs, still protesting. "These stairs are unbearable. The upstairs should have been condemned years ago."

"They'll keep me fighting fit," Daniel declared. "And the children haven't complained yet."

"I think my room is down here," Martha snorted. "Off the kitchen. That's the way it usually works in these old houses."

The Captain and Martha stopped for breath at the top of the stairs — more for Claymore's benefit, than their own, and then they reached the first door. "Nursery, I take it?" The Captain asked, opening the door and stepping inside. Slowly he looked around the room.

"Yeah, I guess," Claymore replied dully. "I think, that is, if you don't take my well-meaning, wise advice and leave now, your kids will be the first ones to use it for one."

"She never had children?" Daniel asked.

"Nope," Claymore stuck his hands in his pockets.

"A shame," the mariner replied. "She looks like a woman who would love children... and you can see this room was designed and decorated with love, even in the state it is in. Look, Martha — there are both twin beds and a double-decker bunk — designed for either overnight guests, or more children, in time. Window seats! That will please Candy. She told me she was hoping the place would have some. Bookshelves... a fireplace..." He looked at the landlord sharply. "I hope THAT is more for ambiance, than warmth, Mr. Muir?"

"Oh, yes..." Claymore nodded. "Heating was installed some years ago — as you can see." He gestured toward the newer-looking radiator. "The furnace is in the cellar."

"Good." The seaman headed toward the door. "Now for the rest of the house."

The group entered the hallway once more, and the Captain's tall strides soon carried him down to the next doorway, and he reached for the doorknob.

"Wait a minute!" Claymore squawked. "You can't go in there!"

"Why ever not?"

"This was HER room!"

"Good. Now it can be MY room," he snapped. "It's the nearest to the children. It is the master bedroom, is it not?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then that's all there is to say about it." Carefully, he opened the door.

For a moment, Claymore stood frozen in horror as the tall man and older woman entered the room. Then, gathering his meager courage around himself, he scurried after them. "See, it's a — a very FEMALE room. You'd hate it in here."

"I've seen much worse," Daniel sighed, remembering the ornate bedroom he had shared with his wife in their former home in Philadelphia. Slowly his eyes went around the room. It was paneled in wood — dusty and dingy from years of neglect, but even the Captain's eyes could see what they needed most was soap, water and elbow grease, and the floor a bucket and swab. On one wall were a series of intricate built-in drawers and compartments and a bureau of Honduras mahogany. There were two chests at the far end of the room, near a massive fireplace with a small gas heater next to it, and to the right was a leather couch. A wing chair and ottoman faced the French windows and doors that opened out to the balcony which looked out over the sea. A massive four-poster bed was also in evidence, with faded silk covering the top in what used to be an elaborate canopy setup, but it was now tattered and dusty.

"That canopy will be the FIRST thing to go," he remarked.

Claymore cringed. "But she... that is, it isn't really that bad, is it?"

"It's dreadful," Martha sniffed.

"And I won't sleep with frou-frou," the seaman added. "What's that?" He pointed at the telescope in front of the windows.

"A — a telescope?" Claymore replied, sounding so uncertain and nervous that it came out as another question.

"I can see that. Why is it here?" Daniel asked, refraining only just from rolling his eyes at how donkey-brained the fellow could be.

"Well, er — Mrs. Muir was a bit on the ec-eccentric side, for her day. She likes to... that is, liked to look at the stars and stuff up in the sky, at night." Claymore shrugged. As he spoke, the Captain wandered over to peer at the device and put his eye to it.

"Don't!" Claymore wailed. "It's — dusty. You might irritate your eye."

Daniel counted to ten in Latin, mentally, and then replied with forced patience, "I'm not worried about a little dust, and even if I was, the device is in perfect order. Not a speck of dirt on it. Whoever kept this clean would have passed any inspection. Does it come with the house?"

"Oh yeah," the landlord answered. "She'd never... that is, it's stood right where it is for a hundred years."

Leaving the telescope, the Captain moved about the room curiously, as Claymore seemed to breathe a bit easier. "Hmm..." he whispered, looking into the telescope's eyepiece. "Maybe the old girl is mellowing after all..."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the telescope pivoted around and clomped him soundly on the side of the head. Peering into the eyepiece again, Claymore had no trouble seeing Carolyn Muir's angry face, and in his head, he could hear her say, "I want that man out of my bedroom and out of my house!"

"I'm canceling the lease, Captain Gregg!" Claymore wailed, and double-timed it toward the door. As his startled tenants started after him, Daniel Gregg could have almost sworn he heard a mad wail of laughter.

Claymore skidded down the stairs and landed in a heap at the bottom, where he did not move.

The Captain shook his head. "Poor fellow. I didn't know I would be paying rent to a half-wit. Go get some water, Martha. We need to revive him. The last thing I need is him hurting himself and suing me for damages."

"He can't!" Martha protested. "It's his house — but the sooner he is gone, the better." She departed for the kitchen.

"If I had a flask, I'd poor some rum down his throat," muttered the Captain, holding the other man's head up. "Wake up, man." There was a murmur from Claymore.

"I'd rather have Scotch."

When Martha came back into the room, she wasted no time dashing a glass of water into Claymore's face, and he sat up with a start. "Captain Gregg, you cannot stay in this house! Get your children and leave!"

"Nonsense, man — it's nothing but wind in the chimney."

"That was HER in the chimney!" he babbled hysterically. "Captain, this house is haunted!"

"Who, her?" Martha asked, befuddled.

"Carolyn Muir!"

"Nonsense. This place is dirty, yes, haunted, no. We'll have it shipshape and Bristol fashion in no time."

Claymore looked past the seaman's shoulder at Carolyn's disembodied, head, visible only to him, and she let out an ear-piercing scream, directed to Claymore's ears only. With one bound, the jellyfish was out the front door, down the walk and roaring down the road in his ramshackle old car.

"What's the matter with Mr. Muir?" Candy asked, coming into the room with Jonathan.

"I think he is full of..." Daniel started, but Martha stopped him.

"Captain, you aren't on board a ship anymore."

"...Bilge and sea water!" he continued.

Shaking her head, Martha said, "Well, this HOUSE is full of dust and cobwebs. If you want me to work miracles, then I need some help paring this mountain of dirt down to a molehill."

"Right. Martha, your troops await orders," the Captain nodded briskly. "I'll telephone the hardware store. I need to get the paint for the living room ordered, at least. I suppose I could hire a painter to come out today, but the walls should be scrubbed before we go too far, and I can paint as well as the next man. I can make a quick run into town if they have the color I want. I have a feeling it won't be our only trip there in the immediate future! In the meantime..." He glanced at his children, who seemed ready to tackle anything. "Candy, Jonathan, start stowing your gear."

"Sweepers, man your brooms — clean sweep-down fore and aft!" Jonathan shouted.

"Thanks, mate," his father grinned.

"All hands, turn to!" Candy cried, and the little crew set to work.

XXX

By evening, the house might not have sparkled, but it was a sight better than it had been. The entire crew was more than a little tired and Daniel silently predicted he might have an ache or two in places he hadn't realized existed in the morning. But, looking around at the progress, he decided that a sore muscle or two was worth it.

They were almost too tired to eat the sandwiches Martha made for dinner. Who knew that cold-cuts on wheat bread could taste like gourmet cooking?

"Oh, good!" said Candy, reaching for the TV switch. "Adam-12 — that new show about policemen is on. We haven't missed it!"

"I wanted to watch McHale's Navy!" Jonathan protested.

"Idiotic show," The Captain grumbled. "Nothing like the real Navy at all. Now, kids..." the Captain started, but just then, there was a large crack of thunder, and every light in the house went off. "Blast!" the seaman exclaimed, wishing he could say something stronger.

"Have no fear," came Martha's voice. "I heard power failures are the norm in these old houses, and I've put candles everywhere." So saying, there was the sound of a match striking, and her face was illuminated with light.

"You saved the day again, Martha," Daniel said, as she moved about the room, lighting more candles.

"But, can the TV work with a candle?" Jonathan asked seriously.

"'Course not," Candy answered, before her father could. "Can you get the lights back on, Daddy?"

Daniel shook his head. "I can look, but I don't think so," he answered. "Usually one has to wait until the power company does something."

"But that could be all night!" Jonathan protested. "And sitting in the dark is going to make me sleepy!"

"Me, too," Candy agreed, nodding her head.

"It wouldn't surprise me a bit," said their father. "You two have had a big day and worked hard. You need a good night's sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep yet!" Candy argued. "I wanted to eat dinner and watch TV and maybe see the ghost again."

"Now you know perfectly well there are no such things as ghosts," Daniel smiled. "Now eat your dinner. Maybe I can read to you for a while after."

"Okay," the kids said agreeably. "That's almost as good as TV."

"Glad I make the cut," he grinned, biting into his sandwich.

After dinner, the seaman did read for a while by candlelight, but soon the children's heads began to droop and his eyes began to protest the extra strain, and it wasn't long before he laid the book aside and announced it was time for bed. Not hearing any argument, he began herding the children upstairs.

As the Captain tucked his children in, Martha poked her head into the nursery door. "I wanted to say good night. I'm turning into a pumpkin. Besides, with the power out, there's not much point in being up. I can't see to read or do any mending."

"We've all earned a good night's sleep," the Captain nodded.

"Mrs. Muir doesn't like electric lights," Candy said.

Just at that moment, thunder crashed, making Martha jump. "Uh — can we ix-nay the ghost stories during the storm, kids?" she asked. "Things seem creepy enough without that."

"She's not creepy, just a little unhappy about stuff," Jonathan piped up.

"Kids!" Martha exclaimed.

"Now, children, we don't want to frighten Martha," their father scolded gently. "If you aren't careful, you'll scare yourselves into nightmares and we still have too much to do tomorrow for my crew to be bleary-eyed and sleepy."

"We're sorry, Martha," Candy said. "Do you want Scruffy to sleep with you?"

"I'll pass on that offer, but thanks," she answered dryly. "Good night. Since I couldn't watch Errol Flynn on TV, I'm going to see if I can dream him up."

"I'll guide you to your room," the Captain said as he adjusted Jonathan's covers and gave his children a last kiss goodnight.

After providing light for Martha's trip to her door, he returned to the front room. From over the mantle, Carolyn Muir's portrait seemed to regard him calmly. He stared at her for a moment or two, trying to quell the tension he felt. He was too tired to sleep. If only there was more light to read by! Walking over to the fireplace, he took a paint chip from one pocket and held it up so that between the last of the dying firelight and the candle he had just set down, he could make it out, if only barely. Yes, the color he had chosen would work nicely. Picking up the candle again, he angled it so as to get a better look at the 'lady' of the manor. Before the light could fully reveal her face, the flame abruptly went out.

In annoyance, he looked up at her image. "Ghosts! If you ARE there, stop being a childish harridan. If there's anything I won't allow on my ship, it's an unladylike spook," he jested, not really expecting a response.

"YOUR ship?" a voice called from the darkness. "It's my home, and I am not unladylike, childish, nor a harridan."

Slowly, Daniel turned toward the bay window to see the woman whose visage graced his wall. "Carolyn Muir, I presume?" he asked, carefully keeping any trace of disbelief from his voice.

"Brilliant deduction," she nodded. "Bravo. As your prize, you can leave Gull Cottage and I'll forgive you for trespassing."

"I have no intention of leaving, my dear. This is now my home, mine and my children's."

Carolyn's eyes flashed fire. "I am NOT your dear."

"Merely a figure of speech, Mrs. Muir," he returned. "Tell me, were you always such a shrew, or did you become one in death?"

"I am not a shrew, nor any of those other insulting things that you called me earlier. Just because I don't melt at your feet is no reason to slander me," she sniffed. "And, you are no gentleman to make such unkind comments."

Daniel considered, and then shrugged. "To prove that I am a gentleman, I won't correct you. Let's get a fresh start here and allow me to introduce myself. Captain Daniel Gregg."

"Captain? You're a seaman?" She lifted a brow.

"Retired, yes," he nodded.

The spirit muttered something that sounded like, "It figures," before saying aloud, "I suppose you have a girl in every port? Well, don't bring them around here. Or, rather, if you were going to stay here, which you aren't, I would not allow you to bring a string of — of — that kind of woman into my house."

"If I had wanted to, I could have had fifty in every port, but I did not. I gather you have met my children, so you know I was married. I therefore had but one girl in one port and have not considered dating again since her death. Not yet." For a second, his gaze lingered on the woman standing in front of him.

"Just because you were married doesn't mean you didn't have fifty girls," she shot back, trying to regain the upper hand.

"Is that what happened to you? Your husband decided he wanted a sweeter-tempered girl and throttled you for being too smart-mouthed?" Daniel asked.

"Hardly. He died first," Carolyn rolled her eyes. "The official story, which is a complete fabrication concocted by feeble-minded sensationalists, is that I was depressed over Robert's death and killed myself."

"That is not the truth?"

"Good heavens, no," she sniffed. As her attention became focused on the story, the storm began to gentle into a light rain. "I'd only recently had gas heaters installed, you understand. Well, one night, it was rainy and chilly, so I got up and shut the window and turned on the heater, and I kicked it. Quite by accident. It WAS dark, after all. Something didn't work properly with the pilot light, and I died."

"Carbon monoxide poisoning," Daniel said.

"Yes. But, everyone thought I did it on purpose because my daft, flitter-brained housekeeper said I always slept with my window open. I certainly didn't in the rain! It would have been too cold, and ruined the rugs. I hope your — Martha, is it? — has more sense."

"She does."

"Then, I am sure she can make your next place a lovely home."

"We are not going anywhere," Daniel said firmly. "Look, Mrs. Muir, be reasonable. My children have lost their mother and been uprooted from the place they grew up. I had to get them out of there, though. My in-laws were about to ship them off to boarding school. I want to raise them in their own home. I think this would be a good place for it."

"Well," she wavered a little. "They do seem like nice children. I did want children."

"And, if you need help packing your — whatever it is ghosts have, I will gladly assist you in moving," Daniel continued with a smile.

"What?"

"You won't be haunting us, now that we've got it worked out."

"That's true, because you will be living elsewhere, sir." She vanished, but her voice went on, "I WON'T be turned out of my own home! If you think I was a harridan before, just watch me now!"

Before the Captain could get another word out, there was a mighty crack of lightening and a boom of thunder that shook the roof. "Why you..." Daniel started, but before he could say another word, two small figures appeared out of nowhere, Martha not far behind them.

"Hey!" Jonathan demanded. "Did you do that?"

"Don't be silly!" Candy sniffed. "I bet it was..."

"It doesn't matter who it was," Daniel growled. "We are not staying in this house another instant! Martha, start packing immediately!"

"PACKING?" The housekeeper stared at her employer in disbelief. "Why? It's late! We're all in bed..."

"We're not," Candy pointed out. "Why do you want to leave, Dad?"

"Because of hoyden females," he muttered.

"What?" Martha didn't quite catch what he said.

"Nothing. It was just not a good idea to take this house. As galling as it is to say, Mr. Muir was right, this place is wrong for us."

"But I like it here!" Candy wailed.

"Yeah," Jonathan added. "And I bet nobody else in town has a..."

"Jonathan Edward..." the Captain glared.

"Uhh..." Jonathan looked immediately chastised and his eyes grew wide. "Sorry, Sir."

"We'll start packing right away," Candy added, turning her back to her father, dejected. She turned around to face him again. "Can I get dressed first?"

"MAY I, and yes, you may," Daniel frowned, seeing his children pull away from him. "Look, don't be upset, you two. We aren't leaving Maine, just Gull Cottage."

"We know," Candy sighed, heading toward the stairs. "But, it's such a neat house..."

"With a neat ghost," her brother said softly as he followed after her.

"What was that?" Martha asked, as thunder boomed again.

"Nothing, Martha," Daniel scowled. "Just wait until I get my hands on Claymore Muir!"

XXX

Time began to move either very fast, or very slow, it was hard to tell which. For once in his life, Daniel felt clumsy as he tried so hard to hurry. If it was just himself, he would have stayed and let the hellcat rage all she liked; he'd win, he knew. But, he could not subject the children to that.

Finally, the packing was done and the car re-loaded. He was not sure if he was surprised or not that the rain had all but ceased.

He was out warming up the car when Candy and Jonathan brought out the last loads and reluctantly climbed into the back seat.

"I think that's everything, Captain," Martha said, putting one final box in the tailgate and shutting it. "Well, if we are going to leave, I guess it's good you didn't get a chance to unload that antique desk of yours. Wrestling it up and down stairs in the same day wouldn't be good for anyone's muscles. It'll probably be easier to get some help with it taking a house in town, anyway." She scratched her head. "I feel like we are forgetting something..."

"Scruffy!" two juvenile voices exclaimed.

Martha snapped her fingers. "That's it!" she exclaimed. "For a puppy, he's awfully darn quiet!" She looked at the children. "You didn't put him in the bathroom to keep him from getting stepped on while we packed, did you?"

They shook their heads in unison. "Uh-uh."

"I hate to think of him wandering around outside anywhere," the Captain murmured. "When was the last time you saw him? Either of you?"

Candy and Jonathan looked at each other, thinking hard.

"We saw him before bed," Jonathan puzzled.

"And, I almost tripped over him when we got up again," Candy added.

"But when you came downstairs, was he with you? No, he wasn't," Daniel went on, answering his own question.

"I didn't see him at all when we were packing up," Martha said, shaking her head. "He must have been scared by all the activity and hid somewhere."

"He might be in one of the boxes," Jonathan put in.

Candy socked her brother lightly on the arm. "Uh-uh! He'd start yapping. We'd have heard him, ding-dong."

"Candace Hope Gregg, don't hit your brother, or call him names!" the seaman reprimanded her, and then he turned the ignition key back to the 'off' position, and looked at his housekeeper. "The pup must have gotten scared and is hiding in the house somewhere."

"Do you want me to go look for him, Captain Gregg?" Martha asked, starting to reach over and unlock her door.

"No, no," Daniel shook his head as he thought about the puppy and about the ghost in the house. "I'll go fetch him. He's probably scared and will come as soon as I open the door."

"But I don't want to sit in the car!" Jonathan protested. "I want to help!"

"Yeah, Jonathan's right," Candy agreed. "He's our dog, and we were supposed to take care of him, and we didn't."

"And I don't want to sit out here in a dark car," Martha said firmly.

The Captain shook his head. He couldn't argue with that kind of logic.

"Very well, we'll all go in. But I don't want to mislay any children. You all can check downstairs, and I'll look upstairs — that is, if he doesn't meet us at the door."

Silently, they trooped up the walk then re-entered the house. For a moment, they paused in the threshold, waiting to see if Scruffy would come charging at the sound of their return. No such luck.

"I'll just head upstairs and see if he's there while you all look around here," the Captain instructed.

"Okay, Daddy."

"All right, Captain."

XXX

Starting with the hall, the seaman turned his flashlight on every corner, whistling softly. "Scruffy? Scruffy! Here, boy."

When no sound of toenails clicking on wood, or an answering bark was heard, he opened the door of the nursery and played the flashlight beam over the area. How lonely it looked! Everything in the room seemed to cry out for children to be sleeping there. But now there were no children, and more important at that moment, there was still no sign of Scruffy. Closing the door, he made his way down the hall — first checking the upstairs bathroom. Scruffy was known for trying to drink from the toilet now and again.

The Master Cabin came next. Nothing. As the flashlight beam hit the telescope by the French doors leading to the balcony, Daniel Gregg found himself wondering how many nights Carolyn Muir had spent looking through the telescope — does she see the same things in the sky that I would see if I looked through it? Or does she see things from a long time ago?

The seaman shook himself. It's a fair question, but it brings me no where nearer finding Scruffy, he thought. Blast. That little dust mop has to be around here somewhere. With a sigh, he mounted the steps to the attic.

The door was slightly ajar; he placed a hand on the knob to open it fully. As he did so, he heard a soft voice.

"Maybe I was being a little bit, only a little bit unreasonable, but darn it, I've lived here since I was a girl. I won't be dismissed just because I'm a woman or a ghost." There was a sigh. "You're a sweet little pup. I bet your owners will be looking for you. I'm glad I got to say good-bye to you, even if I couldn't to the kids."

The Captain took a step inside the dusty room. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Carolyn sitting on a trunk, chatting to Scruffy who was sitting contentedly at her feet. Hearing his footfall, she turned and met his eyes. Neither said a word until she broke the silence.

"Back again? I thought you were off to give my one-time husband's not-so-great nephew a lecture and then be gone."

"So you thought you had gotten rid of us, eh?"

"You wanted to leave — I couldn't stop you."

"Madam, you are the one who wanted us to leave."

"Not true — you wanted ME to leave... and I won't. But I'm not surprised you forced your way back in here."

"Forced? My dear woman, we never left. You had our dog."

"I didn't kidnap him — or make him stay. And I can't make you to stay or go either."

"No, but you can make the place blasted disagreeable if you aren't happy."

The ghost shrugged. "I AM disagreeable when I am being told what to do... I've had enough of that in my life, and I won't take it anymore, blast it."

The Captain looked shocked. "'Blast' is not a lady's word, Mrs. Muir."

"I'll say it if I want to. I like it. Blast, Blast, Blast!"

"Well, it doesn't sound too bad, coming from you. It certainly beats rain, thunder and no lights."

With a small wave of her hand, the lights were back on in the attic, and, the Captain assumed, everywhere else necessary in the house. Then Scruffy whined and looked up at Carolyn.

"At least someone seems to be sorry to say good-bye," she said sadly. "I'm going to miss you, little guy."

Daniel Gregg raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you are leaving Gull Cottage?"

"No. You are, remember?"

"Aye." With a sigh, he pulled out an old-fashioned pocket watch and glanced at it. "It is getting late. I suppose..."

"I could let you stay the night," Carolyn said softly, looking up at him.

"You'll let me do nothing, Madam. I have a lease."

"Yes, you do. So are you staying now?" She gave him an enchanting smile. "You are willing to share a house with a ghost?"

"Perhaps. For tonight, at least. The children need their rest."

"Fine," she nodded. "I'll keep an eye on the place, as I have every night for the last hundred years then. I think you will find that perhaps we can stay out of each other's way, after all."

"Where do you keep watch from?" the Captain asked, curious.

"All over the house. But mostly outside my room... on the balcony."

"Your room?"

"It was my room, once." She gave a delicate shrug. "Though most of my things are long gone now. Made off with by Claymore's ancestors — or rotted away with age, like that canopy over the bed."

"I'm sorry about that," Daniel said gently. "But the fabric was old and moth-eaten, and yes, rotten. The tall posters don't look too bad by themselves, do they? You wouldn't really ask me to sleep in all that feminine frippery even if it WAS in good shape, would you?"

The ghost gave her first real smile of the night. "That particular canopy wasn't mine, but I suppose not. Robert — my late husband — wouldn't have it either. Of course there were a lot of things he wouldn't have, including..." She stopped suddenly, as the calls of Candy and Jonathan could be heard through the floor.

"Daddy! Hey, Dad! The power's back on! Did you find Scruffy? Where are you, Dad?"

"You need to go now." Carolyn gave him a wistful smile. "Your children need you."

"Scruffy's here!" the Captain called, making his voice heard. "We'll be there in a few minutes!"

"Okay!"

"Mrs. Muir?" The seaman asked, after a moment.

"Yes?"

"You didn't bring Scruffy up here just to keep us from leaving, did you? I must be completely free to go..."

She smiled. "No, my dear Captain. I can't force myself on anyone. Some day, if you really want to leave Gull Cottage, I won't be able to stop you."

"But you stopped me... we were stopped this time!" Daniel said, looking slightly bewildered.

"Did I?" She shook her head again. "It could have been Scruffy, you know. He has good sense."

The Captain raised his eyebrows as the ghost started to fade out, and then she solidified again.

"So..."

"So?"

"So we are both on trial for the time being? I have a right to a few things..."

"...As do I," he nodded. "Matters may not seem so complicated in the morning. What about Martha?"

"What about her?"

"Should I... I mean, are you going to introduce yourself to her, too? As you did to the children and me?"

"In time," she smiled. "I'll know when that is. In the meantime, what is it that seaman say? Keep your sails trimmed and your lip buttoned, and I am sure she will be none the wiser."

"You don't know Martha," he grinned. "She'll ferret you out."

"I doubt that," she sniffed. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think... that is... since the children both know about me, do you think it would be all right if I helped tuck them in every so often?"

"You'd enjoy that?"

"I would. Very much," she nodded.

"I think it could be arranged," he agreed. "That is, if they don't mind, and I don't think they will."

"Daddy!" came a cry from below decks, and he gave a little sigh.

"I don't know if it is possible to wish a spirit good night, since you don't sleep, but, my dear, I wish you a good night. Good night, and thank you."

"For finding Scruffy?"

"No..." he replied quietly. "Just for being here."

XXX

For the second time that night, the house wound down to go to bed. Just as the Captain reached the nursery door to make sure the children were settled and not overly excited, he paused at the door. A woman's voice was speaking softly. He listened.

"I never got the chance to tuck children in before, you know. It's one of my few regrets. In the morning, a whole new chapter will start in our lives, so to speak. I hope you will see me as someone who's not scary, just a friend. Sweet dreams, dear ones."

A moment later, Daniel's new co-inhabitant popped into the hallway. "Taken to listening at keyholes, Captain?"

"I could not help but overhear," he shrugged.

"I didn't wake them," Carolyn promised. "I just wanted to — welcome them, in a way."

He smiled. "I did not say that I disapproved. I'm pleased that you are kindly inclined toward Candy and Jonathan. And from what they have said, even when I thought they were spinning tales, they seem to like you already."

"They're lovely children." She averted her eyes. "And, I promise not to make any noise when I'm observing the stars tonight from our room."

"Our room, Madam?" He lifted a brow. "I had hoped you might have reconsidered that part."

"Well, I won't force you to stay in there, if you don't want to. It was my room to begin with," she pointed out, and then smiled impishly. "Don't worry, Captain. I'm just a ghost." On that note, she vanished.

Turning his eyes to the ceiling, he muttered, "I will trust you are also a LADY."

After changing, rather hurriedly, for bed, the Captain paused. No, he could not sense the spectral female. Letting out a breath, he shook his head. She was a confounding thing, but equally intriguing. As he put his pocket watch on the bedside table, he frowned, realizing he had not thought about putting out Melanie's photo. He glanced around, testing once more to see if Carolyn was present.

"You know, Mrs. Muir, I have known many women in my time, even married one, but none of them ever challenged me as you do. I think you might be what I was looking for and thought I had found once. You would not have backed down from adventure or been content to be left at home, if given a choice. I can see you and I sailing the world together, following those stars you love. What a shame, that you were not born in my time, or I in yours." He shook his head at his own fanciful musings and hoped she had not heard.

In moments, Daniel Gregg was fast asleep.

END CHAPTER 1