The Captain’s House

By Donna M. Bevans Ph.D.

The Captain’s House is an intriguing story filled with suspense, mystery, and romance.

Do you believe in ghosts? Rachel didn’t, and she wasn’t going to let the rumors of ghosts and a curse stop her from buying a lovely old sea captain’s house.

A husband, who displayed a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, she couldn’t trust and the captain of a fishing boat willing to help her weather a hurricane all add to the intrigue and romance.

Voices in the night, footsteps overhead, and banging noises started to make Rachel think the rumors of a haunted house might be right, but it took meeting the ghosts face-to-face to make her a true believer. Four friendly ghosts who reside in the captain’s house; another ghost, not so friendly, who comes and goes at will; and yet another ghost who surprises Rachel all provide mystery and suspense.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728306124

Donna M. Bevans Ph.D.

Dr. Donna Bevans holds a Doctorate Degree in Clinical Psychology and retired after twenty-five years in private practice. She has been a keynote speaker, trainer, and presenter educating audiences throughout her career. Writing credits include three novels, Whatever It Takes, It’s The Mountain Way, and Secrets on Sycamore Street, suspense stories, So . . .You want to write a book, a manual for the beginning writer, four children’s books and several published short stories and poems. Originally from Cape Cod, Massachusetts, she and her husband currently reside in Fort Collins, Colorado The author can be contacted at [e-mail]

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Copyright © 2019 Donna M. Bevans, Ph.D. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse03/30/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-0613-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-0614-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-0612-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019903688

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Cape Cod

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

To My Readers

Acknowledgements

Friends, former classmates, and residents of Cape Cod have inspired me to finally write a novel that takes place in the town where I grew up and hold dear to my heart, Harwich, Massachusetts.

Ideas and information have been contributed by many people to assist me in the writing of this book. While my name may appear on the cover, each of you have had a part in the final work.

The writing instructors I’ve been fortunate to have over the years are always looking over my shoulder and reminding me of writing tips they have instilled in me. My thanks to Saddleback College Emeritus Program instructors Mary Jane Roberts, Susan Hecht, Laurie Thomas, and Patricia McFall.

To Shirl Thomas and her wonderful critique group, your guidance and support are forever with me as I write. To the Fort Collins writers group for critiquing my work in process, Kristin Owens, Kathy Mendt, and Jack Matthews. We’ve struggled together writing draft after draft to turn our ideas into real books, thank you all. My thanks and appreciation to Ann Hoffelder and Rose Zubradt for the editing of his book.

The Harwich Historical Society (HHS), housed in the old Brooks Academy, has a goal to preserve and collect the history of Harwich. My thanks to Janet Cassidy, Museum Director, for spending time with me answering questions and telling me of books available about Harwich. She also introduced me to Albert Raneo, a volunteer at HHS, and a native of Harwich. Albert and his wife Josephine shared with me some of their experiences growing up Harwich. Thanks for the memories.

The Brooks Free Library, established in 1880, holds a wealth of information about the town of Harwich. My thanks to Jennifer Picket, Reference Librarian, who helped me with my research on the town.

Cyndi Williams, Executive Director of the Harwich Chamber of Commerce, was a wonderful resource of information regarding events held in the town and local regulations such as zoning and licensing of businesses. Many thanks for your suggestions.

To Carol Thayer of Kinlin Grover Real Estate and Donna Ellis of Jack Conway Real Estate who answered many questions about sales of houses including the title search, and inspections needed, thank you for your time and expertise.

Thanks to Captain Mort of Captain Mort’s Fishtale who spent time enlighten me about the differences between commercial and charter fishing boats.

A resident of Harwich Port and a longtime friend, Beverly Baldwin Nightengale, shared a childhood experience of being visited in her bedroom by an apparition one winter night. Thank you, Bev, I too loved that old house.

As always, I want to thank my family who have encouraged me in my writing endeavors. Especially granddaughter Hannah who is now trying her hand at writing as well.

To my husband, Bill Easterbrooks, as the first to read my works you are both critic and cheering section. Thank you is such a simple word for the support and guidance you continue to give to me. You have adjusted to my erratic writing schedule, to the talking out loud with my characters I sometimes do, and my need for space when I’m developing a plot. Thank you for continuing to believe in me. You are the love of my life. Once again, I couldn’t have done it without you.

In memor

y of

Dear friends on Cape Cod

Lee W. Baldwin & George C. Baldwin

Cape Cod

1.jpg

Chapter One

Edgar Eldridge sits in a rocking chair on the porch of the old sea captain’s house and listens to the sounds of the permanent residents. Footsteps in the attic and on the stairs, books falling off tables, a child laughing, a door closes, all familiar sounds telling him all is well with the ghosts on Pilgrim Road.

But if the ghosts were to release their fury, the sounds would change to clanging pipes, pounding against walls, slamming of doors, loud voices, and the incessant, rhythmic, banging, over and over again until the intruders were no longer a threat.

Today I must speak with Hannah, Edgar says to whoever might be listening. He rocks back and forth in silence waiting for a reply.

He sees no one, but the energy in the air tells him Hannah is near.

Edgar Eldridge, what do you want old man? a woman’s harsh voice asks cutting through the silence.

You scared away the young couple who purchased the house a few years back. It’s time to allow people to live here again, Edgar says.

It’s my house. They had no right to change it, Hannah replies.

The time has come for you to let go of this house. It will fall into disrepair unless people live in it and take care of it. The new roof and updating the electrical and plumbing was a good thing.

They didn’t ask permission.

Hannah, they bought the house, they didn’t know they needed to ask permission from anyone, Edgar answers.

They were told about the ghosts who reside here. They were told about my curse on the house. I didn’t like them and they had to leave, Hannah says, and with a thunderous rumble she is gone.

Edgar continues rocking back and forth watching the gentle waves lap against the shore. Thoughts swirl around in his head, ideas not to his liking are easily dismissed. Having been in the real estate business for many years the perfect solution comes to mind. After all, the location of the house is perfect; the price, very reasonable; with a new roof and updated plumbing and electrical, the house is a steal.

He stands, and leaning heavily on his walking stick, leaves the porch and walks away from the old sea captain’s house in Harwich Port.

Edgar loves the old sea captain’s house just as much as Hannah does and will not sit by and watch as it goes to ruins. The following morning, Edgar writes the ad he thinks will attract the perfect person to love this old house.

The House Nobody Wants: A captain’s house, built in 1842, is a piece of history worth owning. A one of a kind gem located on Pilgrim Road in Harwich Port. Vacant for three years, it is being offered at a recently reduced price. Imagine sitting on your own porch, a breathtaking view of the ocean stretching out before you. Built on a half-acre lot, 4,000 sq. ft., six bedrooms and four bathrooms. Truly an unusual find. Imagine, owning this newly renovated house.

Adding to its charm, is the curse rumored to be on the house and the ghosts, who it is said, occupy the attic. A challenge for someone adventurous. Are you the right person to turn this house into a home again?

Knowing very little about computers, he calls the Boston newspaper and asks for his ad to be printed in the Sunday edition.

Sunday morning, Early April

Boston, Massachusetts

Chapter Two

Ryan, I’ve found it, Rachel calls to her husband.

Found what? my husband calls back.

The perfect house. Look at this story.

Ryan comes into the living room where I’m sitting in my sweats cross-legged on the floor with the Real Estate section of the newspaper spread out in front of me.

At six-foot-two he towers over me. God, you look sexy sitting there like a little kid, Ryan says as he pushes a stray curl from my face.

Read this, I say and point to the article.

What am I looking at? he asks taking a closer look at the paper.

"The article in the middle of the ads: The House Nobody Wants. It sounds perfect."

Ryan reads the article and starts to laugh.

What’s so funny?

Good gimmick, a haunted house. Some real estate agent is trying a new angle to sell an old, broken down house that’s been on the market for years. Why are you so obsessed with finding a house?

Well to begin with, I’m tired of living in these dismal apartments your company puts us in, and moving all over the country. Besides, you promised we could buy a house.

I told you before, we’ll buy a house after I finish this big project, Ryan answers dropping onto the floor next to me. We’ll stay in one place then.

I look into his serious brown eyes and want to believe him. We’ve been married eight months and Boston is the fourth city we’ve lived in. Why can’t your boss just let us settle in one place?

It’s complicated. It will all be over soon. Besides, he says giving my ponytail a little tug, we’re seeing lots of places around the country.

That’s all I’ve ever done my whole life, move from one place to another. I need a home of my own, of our own. You promised me when we got married we’d buy a house and have a family. Ryan it’s important to me, really important.

Okay, Okay, I’ll do what I can to make sure we don’t need to move again. Why’d you move so much as a kid?

Just like you always say to me, ‘it’s complicated’.

If you tell me why you had to move so much it might help me understand you want a house.

I’ve already told you, my dad was career military. He deployed a lot and couldn’t take me with him.

But what about you and your mom? Didn’t you stay in one place while he was gone? Ryan asks.

We did until she died, then I had to move back and forth between my grandmother and my aunt.

Didn’t you tell me your dad had remarried and lives in Germany?

Yes, he told me I could come and visit but I needed to finish my education in the U.S. That’s when he sent me to boarding school in California. I don’t want to talk about it. I say becoming emotional about my past.

You really want to buy an old house?

Why are you so negative? Ryan, it has six bedrooms and would be perfect for a bed and breakfast. And what a drawing card, a haunted house will be. Can we go see it today?

Are you sure about this B & B thing? It’s going to be a lot of work you know. Ryan says.

Yes, I’m sure. One summer, when I visited my dad in Europe, we traveled around France and Germany. We stayed in quaint little farmhouses and ate with the families. I was only fourteen but it made a lasting impression on me.

Okay, call the agent and see if they have time to show us the place today. Where is Harwich Port anyway? Ryan asks.

I don’t know. The ad doesn’t say but I’ll find out when I call.

Ryan frowns at me, shakes his head and goes back into the other room to work on his computer.

After talking to a real estate agent named Zinia for fifteen minutes I have all the details and an appointment to meet her at her office at two o’clock this afternoon. The house is on Cape Cod and when I tell Ryan, we decide to make a day of it and see some of New England we haven’t seen.

Changing out of my sweats, I decide a pair of jeans, a nice top, and boots with heels will make me look like a serious buyer and not a kid. I apply make-up, and try to tame my curly hair, all in an attempt to look my age.

What’s taking so long? Aren’t you ready yet? Ryan calls from the living room.

All set, I say walking out of the bedroom and tying a sweater around my shoulders.

The grownup look, make-up and all. This must really be important to you, Ryan says putting his arms around me and giving me a kiss. Let’s go find you a house.

Chapter Three

We see a flash of lightening through the dark clouds to the east and almost immediately the crash of thunder overhead. It hadn’t been raining when we left Boston, but now we are caught in a downpour.

April showers, Ryan says with a smirk.

Maybe we shouldn’t be driving to Cape Cod in this.

It will be over shortly. I checked the weather before we left and the forecast is fair and sunny. This storm should blow over soon.

As usual, Ryan is right. By the time we get to the Cape Cod Canal the rain has stopped and the sun has made its way through the clouds. I can hardly wait to see the house we read about in the ad.

Here, Ryan says passing me a piece of paper. I googled directions to Harwich Port. We have time to sightsee a little. Do you want to take the highway down the middle of the Cape or the scenic route? Ryan asks as we cross over the Sagamore Bridge.

Looking at the pages Ryan printed out I study the choices. Route 6 is the highway down the middle, 6A is along the north side and Route 28 is on the south side. Take 6A, we can go down one side and back on the other.

This is your trip, Rachel. We can go any way you want.

As we drive along the two lane country road it feels like we have been transported into another world. Boston has been cold and dismal ever since we got there and I can’t wait to see the coastal towns I’d heard so much about, taste the fresh seafood, and explore Cape Cod for myself. Today spring has arrived with sunshine glistening off the budding trees after the rain. We pass old houses on large lots, many with barns, as we drive through the small towns. The stately oak and maple trees, with branches touching over the road, make an arch covering us.

Ryan, this is so beautiful. I’d much rather live here instead of Boston, wouldn’t you?

I don’t know, maybe.

I’m enthralled by the signs on many barns: antiques, woodworking, glass blower, paintings. It seems everyone has a business in their barn. But the signs that attract me the most are the Bed & Breakfast signs.

Look, Ryan, Captain Nickerson Bed & Breakfast. What a great idea for a name.

We stop for coffee at an old country store called The Brewster Store and I find Brewster on the map. After enjoying our coffee and a pastry we buy salt water taffy and then continue on Route 6A further down the Cape. At the round-about in Orleans we head south on Route 28. The landscape and houses change as we travel, even the trees are different, more pine trees than oaks and maples.

Following the sign to Chatham Light we arrive at the Coast Guard Station and Lighthouse overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

We park along the bluff and get out of the car. The vastness of the ocean makes me think how small and insignificant we are.

It’s beautiful, Ryan.

I heard the couple over there talking about how the sandbars are constantly changing. The man said it looks different every time he comes here, Ryan says pointing to a man wearing a Red Sox cap.

I could stay here and watch the ocean forever.

Well, I’m getting hungry. I’ll go ask that man how to get into town, he seems to know all about this area, Ryan says and saunters over to the man in the baseball cap.

Ryan is smiling and giving a wave to the man as he walks back to me. He says The Chatham Squire Restaurant is a good place for seafood and their clam chowder is tops. If we follow this road we’ll go through a residential section and then into town.

After taking a picture of the view and the lighthouse I get back into the car. Even though the sun is shining it’s a bit cold standing on the bluff and hot chowder sounds good.

Driving into town we pass many old houses, some must have been built by sea captains as they have a widow’s walk on the roof. I’m reminded of the song Old Cape Cod Patti Page sang. ‘Quaint little villages here and there’ and I have indeed fallen in love with old Cape Cod.

Don’t you just love it here, Ryan? I ask after we’re seated at the restaurant.

You mean the restaurant? he asks.

I mean the feeling of Cape Cod. It’s hard to explain, but I feel so at home here.

It is peaceful, Ryan says.

After a delicious lunch of steaming clam chowder and hot sourdough bread smothered in butter we walk along Main Street looking at the little shops. I’m intrigued by a store called Yankee Ingenuity with photos of Cape Cod and lovely items of blown glass in the window. Stopping in front of a real estate office we browse the listings for homes in the area.

Wow, look at the prices they want for these houses, Ryan says shaking his head.

We should be able to qualify for a mortgage don’t you think? You have a good job and if we have a bed and breakfast it would be an income property, which might help, right?

Another complicated issue. Very complicated.

But they send you all over the country for work. It must be a big company for them to do that?

Very big. Ryan sighs and puts his arm around me. I might be able to pull it off. Let’s see if we find the right house first.

We walk a little farther and stop again to browse in The Yellow Umbrella, a little bookstore with an abundance of books, many by Cape Cod authors.

Back in the car we drive along Route 28 headed for our appointment at the real estate office in Harwich Port. On the way, I notice several houses both large and small with for sale signs in the front yard.

At the real estate office, we’re greeted by a friendly yellow lab wagging its tail and rubbing against Ryan wanting to be petted.

Sit, Bentley, sit, the woman commands. Sorry about the dog. He really does love people. I’m Zinia, with one ‘n’. Are you the woman who called this morning about the ad?

Yes, I answer. You said you could show us the house this afternoon.

Would you like some coffee? Zinia asks.

No thanks, Ryan replies. My wife and I would like to look at the house on Pilgrim Road. She wants to have a bed and breakfast here on the Cape.

That house is certainly big enough, but I have several that would work nicely and are zoned for just that purpose, Zinia says with a smile. We’ll take my car, it’s out front and we can talk as I drive you around.

Bentley follows us out and jumps into the front seat the minute Zinia opens the door. He likes to ride shotgun, she says with a laugh. The first house I’ll show you is on Bank Street. Perfect for a B & B. Six bedrooms, built about ten years ago for just that purpose.

I only want to see the house I called about, I say trying to be polite.

You must look at several for comparison, Zinia says as she pulls into the driveway of a large house with her sign out in front and stops. The minute she opens the door Bentley bounds out, runs to the front door and sits. Bentley loves this house. I’m sure you will too. It’s only been on the market for a couple of weeks and will sell quickly. You’ll see, it’s lovely.

Ryan and I follow her through the house. It’s nice, modern, and not at all what I picture for a B & B on Cape Cod. Our voices echo as we walk through the large empty rooms.

What do you think? Zinia asks. It’s only $850,000 now, but the price is sure to go up when the tourist season begins.

It doesn’t feel right to me. The guests can’t walk to anything from here. Can you take us to the house in the ad now?

There is another house I’d like to show you first. It’s on the way and a little closer to town.

I start to say no, but Ryan shrugs his shoulders.

Doesn’t hurt to look, he says.

We all get back into the car and Zinia drives us through a part of town we haven’t seen before as she points out many landmarks. On your right, is The Brooks Library, established in the 1800’s and now one of the best on the Cape. On our left is Brooks Park, a lot of events take place here in the summer. She makes a couple of turns and it feels like we’re headed back toward the beach.

"The house I’m going to show