The Dowry Page 4

  His last action before heading out was to locate a lawyer to review the title transfer paperwork, as his usual firm was on the West Coast. With the clauses and exclusions riddling the documents, he wanted to be sure what he was signing up for. He wasn’t up for restoring the house on his dime, only to have the smiling little old lady snake the place out from under him on a contract issue.

  After finishing his calls, he got changed and then, with Hunter in tow, headed to the Jeep.

  “Today’s your day, buddy,” he commented to the dog as he waved him out the door. Hunter happily followed Robert out to the Jeep, leaping in on the driver’s side as the door opened and moving to the passenger seat without stopping.

  Climbing in behind the dog, Robert started the Jeep and headed straight to the lawyer’s office to drop off the paperwork before heading south to the house. Arriving at the office, the receptionist happily took charge of Robert’s packet, and assured him she would see its delivery to the appropriate attorney.

  Hitting the road once more, Robert spent the trip south appraising his new surroundings. As he pulled up to the old structure, he was surprised to see the gates swing slowly open for him. He was under the impression that the electricity was still out and wasn’t aware the gate was even powered.

  “I thought I closed those by hand,” he said to himself as he considered things. He then realized he never remembered latching them when he left last night. They likely just needed adjusting, the vibrations of the Jeep’s arrival setting them in motion.

  Shrugging it off to be investigated later, he drove up the drive, stopping in front of the house. Rather than going up to the house straight away, he and Hunter headed to the carriage house first. He laughed as the hound, nose to the ground, began investigating everything in sight.

  The carriage house was a two-story structure that consisted of three sets of double doors along the side facing the house, with a smaller main door at the far end of the structure. Robert unlatched the first set of double doors, opening both sides wide, and allowing light to flood in. He could imagine the wooden wheeled carriages sitting side by side while all the harness and horse tack lined the walls.

  Inside the first floor, he could see rectangular openings in the ceiling above, where he expected the hay and straw bales were stored for the horses. All around him, the first floor was mostly abandoned, but Robert was surprised to find the ground covered in irregularly leveled concrete, rather than a dirt floor. At some point in the past, the dirt had been poured over, in a bad attempt at covering the bare earth. It was serviceable, but would need replacing at some later date.

  Climbing one of the wooden ladders built into the back wall, he found the darkened second story almost as empty as the first. He could just make out a couple of pieces of broken furniture pushed to one side, but all the remnants of hay or straw he might have expected had long been swept away. Opening the loading doors at the far end of the structure, he was rewarded with enough light to see that the floor and roof looked sturdy and not in need of replacement.

  Climbing down, he found Hunter waiting anxiously for him, frustrated at the lack of access.

  “What, can’t climb ladders?” Robert teased the hound before patting his head affectionately.

  Heading back outside, he had just reached the front steps of the house when he spied a work truck pulling into the drive. He stood watching as RD pulled up next to his Jeep, the lettering on the side of the vehicle reading: RD Bowen, General Contractor.

  “Any trouble finding the place?” Robert called out as RD exited the truck and approached.

  “Do you have any idea what this place is?” RD replied excitedly while waving several rolls of paperwork at him.

  “Ah, a house?” Robert replied sarcastically.

  “This has got to be the most haunted house in the county!” RD replied eagerly.

  “Do you have any idea how many times I have heard that before?” Robert asked as he led the contractor through the front door.

  “Besides, this house has never been owned outside the family, so who claims it’s haunted?” Robert asked, suddenly questioning the source on the subject.

  “All I know is when I gave the address to the county clerk, they made me get the file myself; they didn’t even want to touch the paperwork. Apparently other contractors have tried to do work on this place over the years with less than pleasant experiences.”

  “Since no one has lived here in decades, that’s some pretty old rumors,” Robert replied with a laugh.

  “Not rumors, news,” RD stated while passing copies of news clippings to Robert.

  “According to the people down at the city, three women have drowned here since the house was built. First was the owner, she died in 1872 and they never found the body. Then in the 1900s, the clerk thought maybe around 1904, another woman drowned while swimming right off that dock out back. Then again in the late 1940s, another died in the exact same place. All were women in their early 30s and all Foxworth family members.”

  “So that means we are safe. We are not women and certainly not Foxworth family members,” Robert replied sarcastically as he scanned the copies. To his mind all this only meant that the Foxworths were bad swimmers.

  “Not according to these papers,” RD replied as he waved more of the paperwork in his hands at Robert.

  Moving into the kitchen, Robert took the stack from the contractor and started shuffling through the many pages, spreading them out on a counter. There were permits and work orders dating from the 1900s to the 1940s, and some recent invoices dating all the way up to the 1990s. Most of the newer stuff involved utility work and right of way easement clearing for the areas across the front of the property.

  One in particular covered the installation of the power line he could see running from the street and along the drive to the house. Another was for the septic system for the bathrooms installed in the 1940s during the last major renovation. He imagined that before the septic was installed, they still had outhouses somewhere on the property.

  “Several of these include notes by the crew on site, referring to vandalism and weird events. Look at this from 1946, the guy claims to have wired the parlor, only to return the next day to find it all ripped out. He charged extra for the rework,” RD said while waving the paper under Robert’s nose.

  “And this one is dated 1903 and complains of someone painting over a wallpapering job, spelling out the word NO in red,” he added ominously.

  “Did you find anything helpful?” Robert asked as he scanned through the pile of paperwork.

  “These are copies of the original plans,” RD said proudly.

  Taking the roll, Robert unrolled the copies of the registered construction drawings. Dated 1857, with notes referencing ‘57 and ‘58, Robert traced out every first-floor room with his finger. Flipping to another page, he did the same for the second floor.

  “You can see where the original walls were before they added the second bathroom and changed the kitchen around,” RD commented as he watched Robert.

  What surprised Robert was the drawings before him displayed a second-floor bathroom at all. Considered quite progressive for the time, it indicated Charlotte had been cutting edge in her desires. While there wouldn’t have been a toilet, the indoor bath with a draining bathtub was just making its way into residential homes of the well-to-do.

  “Then we have the work done in 1903.” RD passed over more rolled plans.

  “And these are the 1947 reno drawings,” he added as he handed the third set over depicting the changes made in the late 40s renovation effort.

  “They really didn’t change all that much through the years,” Robert commented after comparing the three sets of plans.

  “Yeah, that was my thought as well. Almost like they were trying to keep the place as original as possible. Now, here is the crazy part. The clerk says that the rumor was that if the ghosts here didn’t like the changes being made, they would trash the area and make you do it all over again.�
��

  While the two men had been talking, Robert began to get that feeling that he was being watched, as he had the first night. It was then he noted Hunter standing at the doorway to the foyer, his tail wagging. He had seen the action a million times before, always denoting a visitor. Walking around the counter, Robert peered past the dog, looking down a deserted hall toward the front door.

  “What’s wrong?” RD asked as he leaned over to peer past Robert to look into the foyer himself.

  “Ah, nothing,” Robert replied as he patted the dog. He scanned the empty hallway once more before returning to the paperwork.

  Chapter 4

  Foxworth Landing, 1857

  Once word had gotten out about the Foxworth shipping station, Charlotte found herself the center of local interest. Besides the farmers, the ranchers had come forward, looking for a means to get their beef to market. Although not a regular practice for the Foxworth steamboats, her father had recently acquired a boat capable of such work.

  “Miss Charlotte, there are some men here to see you,” one of the construction hands had relayed.

  From her place near the camp, where she had been overseeing the preparation for her home’s foundations, she could see three men on horseback, waiting patiently at the end of her pier where dirt met wood. Moving in their direction, in no particular hurry as the heat of the day was upon them, she stopped in the shade of the trees they were under.

  “How may I help you gentlemen?” she asked as one of the three dismounted.

  “Am I to understand that you are the proprietor of this landing?” the man asked as he waved toward the dock works extending into the river.

  Charlotte sensed the man both doubted her status and was questioning her abilities all at once.

  “I am. My father owns a steamship company and I am both his agent here and the proprietor of this landing. Should you require travel or shipment of goods I will be happy to take your money and see you on your way,” she replied firmly as she gestured out at the river.

  The two men behind the first, both still mounted, gave a chuckle at Charlotte’s reply, putting the man firmly in his place.

  “No offense, Miss, but you do appear a might young to be holding such a responsible position,” the man replied, clearly mollified by the young woman’s confidence.

  “I have been managing my father’s business affairs since I was twelve years old and have never lost a shipment yet,” she replied proudly.

  “So, you’ve shipped cattle before?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Well, no sir, I have not. But I am sure with your advice, we can get your cattle where they need to be just fine.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, Miss. I do believe we can do business with you,” the man replied, a broad smile crossing his weathered face.

  Charlotte returned the smile and with a wave, watched the three ride off. She was beginning to understand that managing the landing was going to create opportunities and challenges that would be a bit of a problem from time to time.

  Her biggest problem at that particular point in the beginnings of her fledgling enterprise were not the shipments, but the travelers. Many of those that approached her for passage were required to wait a day or more for the correct boat to take them to their destination. She was ill-prepared to accommodate their needs for more than a few hours of delay, as they waited for the right boat in the correct direction on the river.

  Not one to turn business away, her solution had been to set up a pair of tents at the end of the pier, each providing sleeping accommodations for two. Meals were served with the rest of the construction crew, but served family style at a separate table. Charlotte made sure all her customers were served and satisfied before she sat down for her own meals.

  Fortunately, she had only a few takers early on, but that didn’t discourage her from providing the best service possible. Her hope was to eventually be the finest boarding house on the river.

  Foxworth Landing, Present day

  “Ok, can you get these scanned into the computer so I can take a shot at creating a new set for us to work from?” Robert asked RD as he waved the multiple sets of rolled up drawings at him.

  The two had been in the kitchen for over an hour as they talked through their plans for the old house. Robert could sense that RD’s excitement at attacking the job was as great as his own. That was one of the reasons Robert like the man so much, he had as much love for the old structures as he.

  “Already started, I had these scanned before coming here. I’ll have my people shoot you a copy of the files once they are all cleaned up,” RD replied with a smile.

  “As for the supposed ghosts, you do realize the family lived here until 1948. I talked to the current owner herself,” Robert said, brushing off the rumors.

  “So you say, but I’m told we won’t find anyone willing to work here past dark. All the locals say it’s not safe,” RD replied with a tinge of humor in his voice.

  “You know they probably started those rumors to prevent vandalism?”

  “Maybe,” was RD’s reply, not sounding convinced.

  “And I called you from here after dark last night. I had no problems at all.”

  “Well, there goes that rumor,” RD replied reluctantly, finally giving in.

  If Robert didn’t know any better, he would guess his friend was disappointed and hoping for ghosts.

  “Ok, let’s do a walk through and start our shopping list.” Robert dismissed the subject of ghosts and focused on the work ahead.

  As they started their tour, Robert couldn’t help but consider the timing of the Foxworth family leaving in 1948. If the stories were true and all three drownings were Foxworth family women in their thirties, then they might have been worried that Victoria was the next in line. Probably only in her early teens in 1948, her parents had vacated their home before she came of age, so to speak.

  Putting that thought from his mind, the two men spent the next several hours walking both floors inside the house and the grounds around the outside. Besides repairing the damage sixty plus years of neglect had left for them, Robert speculated on adding a pool in the back.

  “Won’t that be out of character for the rest of the house?” RD asked as he considered the space Robert was looking at for the pool.

  “Pools were a later addition to most private homes of this era, appearing in the very early 20th century as status symbols. However, they actually became popular in England in the 19th century, about the time this house was built.”

  “What pool goes with a Victorian era home?” RD asked speculatively.

  “I was thinking of a Greek or Romanesque architecture. You know, maybe a tiled bath look. That shouldn’t be too out of character,” Robert proposed.

  “Speaking of out of character, what about the HVAC?” RD suddenly asked, changing the subject, apparently concerned about the impact to the structure.

  “Are you expecting me to run ductwork in the walls and ceiling?” RD added, knowing the effort would require them to rip the place apart.

  “No, I was thinking of a two-zone system, one fed from the basement and the other from the attic.”

  “Let’s go take a look,” RD responded as he pointed to the house.

  With that the two men headed back inside, climbing the rear steps and entering the dining room. Wandering the halls, they finally located the basement access near the butler’s pantry. Both men produced flashlights, aiding their descent on the old wooden stairs, while Hunter just relied on the humans as he followed them down into the darkness below.

  While basements in Florida were not common, this house had been built on a mound. Probably intended to protect the house if the river flooded, it gave the structure a commanding view of the area and left enough space under the first floor to create a daylight basement below. The walls of the basement were the stone footings supporting the structure above and the floor had the same poor-quality concrete as the carriage house.

  “What is all this crap?�
� RD asked as he followed Robert downstairs.

  In all directions, they could see furniture, trunks and wooden crates stacked from floor to ceiling. Off to one side, Robert used his flashlight to illuminate the old oil-fired boiler, with the oil tank off in the back of the room. Used to provide hot water for the radiators above, he doubted it was still watertight or safe to use.

  “I doubt that’s usable,” RD laughed as they looked the derelict over.

  “We are going to have to clear this stuff out before we can start down here,” Robert commented absently.

  “What do you think about moving the good stuff out to the carriage house? We can stash it on the second floor where you can go through it later. Might be some usable pieces here,” RD suggested.

  “That’s a good idea, I checked it out earlier and it seems to be sturdy and dry.”

  “Once you give the go-ahead, I can have the guys move everything out there and sort it for you,” RD added as he waved at the piles all around them.

  “Let’s go look in the attic,” Robert said as he turned to the stairs and headed back to the first floor.

  Ascending the main staircase in the entryway, the two men located the attic access behind a door next to the study. The attic was much better lighted than the basement as there were dormers all around the big open central space, allowing in light from the various windows. The walls and ceiling were unfinished, with exposed beams and woodwork all around.

  Taking a moment, Robert gave the ceiling a good once over, checking for telltale signs of light leaking through from above. As he scanned the area, he was pleased to see it appeared in good shape and solid without signs of rot or termite damage.

  As it was in the basement, there were piles of furniture and stored items of all shapes and sizes. Here, however, the ceiling was quite high, allowing for taller piles and more light to pass from the windows. The three roamed the aisles created by the placement of trunks, crates and furniture, all covered in dust. Hunter had a constant sneeze going at this point, as he inhaled the dust around him.