Author’s note:

This story was written for the 2006 Spook-a-thon and was written after seeing the Copper Queen Hotel featured on an episode of SyFy’s Ghost Hunters. Enjoy, and prepare to be totally NOT scared. J

William Regan stifled a yawn as he eased the Wheelers’ extended cab Chevrolet 1500 onto the interstate exit ramp. It was only seven o’clock in the evening, but he was weary to the bone. For someone who hated to drive, he’d done a lot of it the past several days. Finally, after spending over forty hours behind the wheel, he had reached his destination— Bisbee, Arizona.

Tulio Gallardo, a wealthy copper miner from Guadajuato, Mexico, had recently purchased one of Matthew Wheeler’s thoroughbred horses. Señor Gallardo had offered to send a trailer from his own stable to pick up the prizewinning stallion, but Regan had refused. The stubborn groom had insisted upon delivering the thoroughbred himself to make sure the steed was well-taken care of during his trip across the country. After Regan convinced his employer that his love for horses outweighed his hatred of automobiles, Mr. Wheeler had agreed, and arrangements were made for Jim to care for the remaining occupants of Wheeler Stables during Regan’s absence.

According to the MapQuest program Margery Trask had used to plan Regan’s journey, the trek from Sleepyside to Bisbee would take approximately thirty-eight hours. However, hauling the horse trailer had increased the travel time by several hours.

Dan and Mart, desiring an adventure of their own, had volunteered to accompany Regan to Arizona. Although Regan preferred to travel alone, he’d allowed the two teenage boys to tag along. If nothing else, Regan had decided, Frick and Frack (as he called them) would provide some entertainment to break up the monotony of the long trip.

With a sigh of relief, Regan carefully navigated the truck and trailer into the parking lot of the historic hotel where they had reservations.

From the front passenger’s seat, his nephew yawned. “Are we there yet?” Dan murmured sleepily.

“Yep,” Regan replied, “we’re finally here. You’d better wake up Sleeping Beauty back there.” He hitched his thumb backwards in the direction of the truck’s third occupant, who was snoring loudly from his spot in the backseat.

With a devilish twinkle in his eyes, Dan hurled the travel pillow he had been using back at his best friend, aiming right for Mart’s head. Although the pillow hit its intended target, the airborne assault didn’t quite have the effect for which Dan was going. Instead of jumping up in fright, after a moment’s hesitation, the stocky blond merely blinked open his eyes sleepily and stretched.

“Is it time to eat?” were Mart’s predictable first words.

“Not till we make sure Lucky’s comfortable,” Regan answered. Lucky was the thoroughbred stallion Señor Gallardo was purchasing.

“You’d rather feed a horse than your own flesh-and-blood nephew?” Dan clutched his heart so dramatically that even Diana Lynch would’ve been proud. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like those horses better than me.”

Regan cast the young man a withering glare. “If that were true, I’d be making a reservation at the hotel for Lucky instead of you, and letting you sleep in the trailer. Besides, I don’t think you’re in danger of wasting away. Elijah Maypenny feeds you too good for that.” He turned his attention to Mart. “And in spite of all your bellyaching, I know you eat Mrs. B out of house and home. Waiting a few more minutes isn’t going to kill you.”

“Well, I don’t think it’d kill that elephant-sized horse back there to wait, either,” Mart grumbled.

“Mart, I’ll tell you what.” Regan’s celery-colored eyes twinkled with mirth. “When Mr. Wheeler can sell you for $25,000, you can eat first.”

“Sorry, dude,” Dan snorted. He smirked back at his friend. “Only way you’d get kind of money would be if someone paid you a dollar for every word you said. And nobody’s that dumb.” He ducked as Mart threw the pillow back at him.

Fearing he would have to break up a fight, Regan cut in before a full-fledged mêlée broke out. “It won’t take long for me to feed Lucky. After I take care of that and you boys get us checked into our rooms, we’ll rustle up something to eat. Preferably something not smothered by hot sauce; I’m sick of this spicy food.”

“Hot sauce, chocolate sauce, hollandaise sauce…” Mart rattled off as he yawned. “It all sounds good to me. I’m starved.”

“I sure hope Mr. Wheeler upped our per diem once he heard Mart was coming with us,” Dan snickered. “We may have to use Señor Gallardo’s check to get home.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Regan answered with a hint of a smile. “Mr. Wheeler gave us plenty. Now go on and get us checked in. The sooner we get that taken care of, the sooner we can have supper. I’m going to tend to Lucky.”

A man of few words, the horseman hopped out of the truck without further discussion. Dan and Mart soon followed, each retrieving their duffle bags out of either side of the truck’s big metal toolbox. The boys then went inside the historic Copper Queen Hotel, both slowing down to admire the grand structure, which had been constructed in 1902.

Once they entered the building and walked through the foyer, Mart shivered.

“You cold?” Dan asked.

“A little.”

“How can you be cold?” Dan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s like three hundred degrees outside.”

“I don’t know,” Mart murmured, rubbing his bare forearms in an effort to get rid of his goose bumps. “I just took a chill.”

“Weird,” Dan commented. The discussion ended as they approached the front desk and inquired about their reservations.

The elderly lady attending the desk proved to be quite helpful. After a few hasty taps on the computer keyboard, she handed them the card-like keys for each room. “Here you go,” she replied cheerfully. “This one’s for the John Wayne Room and this one’s for the Julia Lowell Room.”

“Thanks.” Dan crammed the cards into the back pocket of his tight, black jeans.

“So, which of you will be staying in the Julia Lowell Room?” the woman inquired curiously, an odd smile turning the corners of her lips upward.

“My uncle has dibs on the room John Wayne stayed in,” Dan answered. “I guess me and my friend here will be stuck sharing the other one. I hope it’s big enough for the two of us.”

“It’ll be fine,” the lady assured them. “That’s one of our most sought-after rooms, you know.”

“No, we didn’t know that,” Mart told her. “But if it’s as neat-looking as this lobby, I can see why. This place is awesome. I feel like I’m on the set of ‘Bonanza’.”

The desk clerk’s smile remained firmly in place. “Yes, this place certainly has the atmosphere of an old western. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Could you point us in the direction of the restaurant?” Mart questioned with a grin. “The hotel has one, doesn’t it?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, it does. You can dine inside or al fresco.”

“I’ll dine alfredo, just as long as you give me some food,” Mart quipped.

The lady’s smile became an open grin as she beheld the two attractive teenagers. “Enjoy your stay here. I certainly hope it proves to be interesting.”

“I’m sure it will.” Dan picked up his suitcase and turned away. “Thanks.”

“Boys?”

Dan and Mart turned to look back at the old woman. Once she had their attention, she continued.

“Be sure to keep the covers wrapped tightly around your toes.”

“O-kay,” Mart stammered, narrowing his eyes slightly. As he and Dan left the foyer, he whispered, “What a weird thing to say.”

“Don’t worry about it, Hoss,” Dan teased.

“Hoss?”

“You said that you felt like you were on ‘Bonanza’,” Dan explained with a grin. “I just assumed you were a ‘Hoss’ kind of guy.”

“I’ll be Little Joe,” Mart declared indignantly. “You can be Hoss.”

“No, I’ll be Little Joe, and you can be Heath,” Dan offered.

“Heath was on ‘Big Valley’, not ‘Bonanza’,” Mart corrected.

“Whatever.”

The boys found their third-floor room easily. A gold plaque with the words “The Julia Lowell Room” etched in black was hung on the outside of the door, greeting visitors. Dan used one of the cards to unlock the door, and the young men appraised their digs for the next two nights.

The Julia Lowell Room was decorated much differently than the lobby. While the entrance of the hotel had a masculine style, this room had once clearly belonged to a woman. The décor was quite feminine, not keeping with the western theme of the rest of the hotel at all. A burgundy flowered bedspread covered the bed, frilly throw pillows framing the head. The furniture looked to be from the early 1900’s and included a wrought iron bed, a nightstand, a lady’s dressing table, a mauve settee, and an armoire which contained a television.

Once the boys stepped through the doorway, they both shivered from a mysterious icy breeze coming from inside the room.

“Now I’m cold,” Dan complained as he set down his suitcase.

“Check the air conditioner,” Mart suggested. “Maybe the last occupant turned it up too high.”

Dan walked over to the air conditioning unit by the window, and then shook his head quizzically as he appraised the temperature setting. “It’s not the air conditioner; it’s been turned off. Man, that’s strange.”

“Dude, we’ve got worse problems than that.” Mart’s expression was almost as grim as his tone.

“What’s wrong?” Dan inquired, his brows creased with worry at his friend’s grimace.

“There’s only one bed in here,” Mart announced dourly.

“One bed?!” Dan exclaimed. His onyx-colored gaze fell on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room before looking back up at Mart. “I just assumed that there was another bedroom behind that door there.”

Silently, Mart opened the door in question. After peeking inside, he shook his head sadly. “That’s the bathroom.”

“They don’t expect us to sleep in the same bed, do they?” Dan demanded.

“You got me.” Mart sighed heavily.

“But I don’t want you!” Dan cried in disgust. “I can’t sleep with you! You’re a dude!”

“Take it easy, Mr. Desirable.” Mart gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Sharing a bed with you hasn’t exactly been on my ‘Top 1,000 Things To Do’ list, either. I’m not one of your little black jacket groupies.”

“What’re we supposed to do? Draw straws?” Dan proposed. “Long straw gets the bed, short straw gets the tub?”

“No,” Mart said with a determined shake of his head. Suddenly, his expression brightened. “Hey, how big is Regan’s room?”

Dan shrugged his broad shoulders. “I dunno. Why?”

“Well, if it’s a double, maybe he’ll switch with us.”

“Yeah, right!” Dan snorted loudly. “If you think he’ll stay in this pink, flowery room instead of the one where the Duke slept, you’re crazy. John Wayne is Uncle Bill’s idol; he’ll probably quit his job in Sleepyside and move here.”

“Then maybe one of us can stay in his room with him and the other one can stay here,” Mart suggested.

“Be my guest.” Dan grinned evilly. “But be sure and pack your earplugs. Uncle Bill snores louder than a hibernating grizzly bear.”

“I know what to do,” Mart said with a decisive nod. “I’ll just call the front desk and ask if they have another room.”

Dan looked at his friend admiringly. “Now that just might work. Good thinking.”

Mart picked up the phone and pushed the button for the front desk. “Uh, yeah, this is room 315 and I was wondering if you had any more rooms available.” He paused momentarily, and then continued. “No, there isn’t anything wrong with the room, I mean, besides the girlie bedspread and throwpillows. It’s just that there’s only one bed and there are two of us… Well, yeah, it’s a big bed, but me and my friend really don’t want to share it… Oh, I see. Thanks anyway.”

Mart groaned loudly as he hung up the receiver.

“No luck?” Dan asked.

Mart shook his head. “Nope. They’re booked up solid. Not a single room left. Guess we’ll have to work out something else.” He paused briefly, steepling his fingers in a thoughtful position. “But what shall we do?”

“I don’t know. Hatching big plans is usually your whacky sister’s department,” Dan answered with a shrug. “You got any ideas?”

“Maybe.” Mart paused dramatically for a third time, and then challenged as quickly as he could, “Last one to the bed sleeps on the couch!” Before he had gotten the word “couch” out of his mouth, Mart had already begun sprinting towards the bed. However, Dan’s catlike reflexes prohibited the husky blond from getting too much of a head start. Although Mart was brawnier, Dan was wiry and quick. Dan immediately caught up with his friend, and the two leaped on the bed at the same time, making the ancient bedsprings creak due to the sudden addition of weight.

“I win!” Mart yelled triumphantly.

“Nuh-uh!” Dan thundered, trying to shove Mart off the bed in an effort to claim it for himself. “I was here first!”

Mart gave a push of his own. “Were not!”

It wasn’t long before the two friends began scuffling, neither wanting to renounce their spot on the comfortable bed. They frantically rolled around until Mart was able to push Dan off the edge. However, Dan took his friend with him, and both boys landed in a heap on the floor.

Their wrestling had been so loud that neither had heard the loud banging from the hallway on their door. Once they were on the floor, the air knocked out of both them, they jumped at the noisy thuds echoing against the solid oak door.

“What’s going on in there?” Regan yelled from the other side of the door. “If you don’t let me in, I’m gonna break this door down!”

Dan quickly stood and, after he had gotten his bearings, scrambled to the door and let his uncle inside.

“What in the Sam hill is going on in here?” Regan demanded, his green eyes blazing. “I could hear you two monkeys from down the hall!”

“There’s only one bed,” Dan answered with a sheepish grin. “We were fighting to see who got it.”

“Well, next time flip a coin,” Regan snapped. He put his freckled hands on his hips and glared at his two charges. “I was waiting in the lobby for my key while you two nincompoops were fooling around. I thought you were hungry, but obviously I was mistaken!”

“We are hungry,” Mart quickly confirmed, rising to his feet and brushing off his jeans. “Can we go eat now?”

“After I drop my suitcase off in my room.” Regan narrowed his gaze at his nephew. “I did get the John Wayne Room, right?”

“Sure did,” Dan replied. “Although if you’d rather sleep in the Pepto-Bismol Suite, we’d be willing to switch…”

Regan snorted in response. “I’ll sleep in this pink-floweredy-mess the same time the devil needs to buy ice-skates. Now, c’mon. I’m hungry, and you know how cantankerous I get when I need to eat.”

It took a fraction of a second for Mart to cross the room and be waiting at the door with the others. “What’re we waiting for?” He looked over at Dan. “You got the keys, right?”

Dan patted his pocket. With a frown, he pulled out only one card. “Here’s the one for your room, Uncle Bill.” He handed the key to Regan. “The other one must’ve fallen out when me and Mart were wrestling. You two go on and I’ll catch up with you in the lobby.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mart agreed, opening the door. “Kicking Dan’s butt gave me an appetite.”

“Don’t fiddle around, Dan,” Regan ordered impatiently. He led the way out to the hallway, a ravenous Mart following closely behind.

Alone in the hotel room, Dan rummaged around until he had the key to the Julia Lowell Room in his possession. Once it was safely tucked away in his back pocket, he walked over to the door and walked through the threshold. He started to pull the door closed behind him, but a faint whisper from inside stopped his progress. His brow furrowed in confusion, he opened the door just a crack and peered back in the room.

There was nobody there.

Dismissing the noise to his overactive imagination, he pulled the door shut all the way and went to find his uncle and best friend.

“I don’t care what you say,” Mart argued, pausing for a moment to lick the last bit of cheesecake off his fork. “I’m not sleeping with Dan.”

“And I’m not sleeping with Mart,” Dan insisted grumpily.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Regan sighed. “That bed’s plenty big enough for the both of you.”

“But we might…” —Mart made a face of repugnance— “touch each other in our sleep. I mean, not on purpose or anything, but accidentally.”

“Who cares?” Regan asked with a snort. “You’d be asleep!”

“But that’s so… weird.” Dan grimaced painfully. “Guys just don’t sleep together, Uncle Bill. You should know that.”

“Some guys do,” Regan commented in an offhand manner, his eyes twinkling evilly.

Dan shot his uncle a dirty look. “But guys like me and Mart don’t.”

“Just this once won’t kill you,” Regan said. “I won’t tell any of the Bob-Whites back home, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, I’m worried about bleeding to death in the middle of the night. Have you seen Dan’s toenails?” Mart demanded. “They look like Lee Press-On Nails! He’ll cut my shins up!”

“And Mart takes up the whole bed!” Dan pointed out. “I’ve seen the way he sprawls out when he sleeps. He’ll probably think I’m Di and try to snuggle with me!”

Regan sighed wearily. “If you two boys are that worried about your masculinity, then one of you can sleep in the bed, and the other can sleep on the little couch.”

“But that’s not fair!” Mart argued. “That little pink couchie-thing looks like something you’d find in Barbie’s Dream House! A real man couldn’t sleep on that rinky-dink excuse for a sofa.”

“Then flip a coin for it,” Regan suggested brusquely. It was clear that he was quickly losing his patience. “Winner gets the bed tonight, and then tomorrow night you can switch.”

“That might work.” Dan wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. “What do you think, Mart?”

Mart shrugged his shoulders. “Guess that’ll have to do.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m going outside to check on Lucky,” Regan said.

“What time is Señor Gallardo getting here?” Dan questioned.

“Sometime in the early afternoon,” Regan replied. “After he leaves, I thought we might head into Tombstone and check out some of the sights.”

“That’d be neat,” Mart commented excitedly. “I’d love to go to the OK Corral. I heard it’s haunted.”

“Don’t be so gullible, Mart.” Regan picked up the bill and then stood. “Don’t you boys know that ghosts aren’t real?”

“You never know,” Mart said with a grin. “There are a lot of weird, unexplained things in the world.”

“You’re too much like your sister,” Regan told him. “You boys behave yourself, hear? After I make sure Lucky’s okay, I’m going on up to my room and hit the hay. I’m pooped.”

“What? We aren’t allowed to wrestle?” Mart teased. Regan shot the middle Belden boy a threatening glare, which only served to make both Mart and Dan laugh.

“Don’t know why I let those blamed kids tag along,” Regan muttered to himself as he left the restaurant. “I’d better make an appointment with Dr. Ferris to get my head examined when I get back to Sleepyside.”

A picture of Winchester’s Restaurant in the Copper Queen Hotel

Regan had no reason to worry. Exhausted from the long week of traveling, Dan and Mart went straight to their room. An hour later, they had each showered and shaved. Although they’d refused to sleep in the same bed, neither had a problem with reclining in bed together as they watched television. Dan’s eyes grew heavy as Mart flipped rapidly back and forth through the sixty channels offered.

“There’s nothing on,” Mart grumbled as he changed channels at warp speed.

“How do you know?” Dan questioned, stifling a yawn. “You don’t stop long enough at one channel to see what’s on.”

“Women browse; men flip. I’m a man; therefore, I flip,” Mart retorted. He groaned loudly as he once again ran out of channels. “There’s nothing on but a bunch of chick shows. Even ESPN is showing ice-skating.”

No reply came from Dan’s side of the bed.

“ ‘Sleepless in Seattle’, ‘Steel Magnolias’, ‘Gilmore Girls’, ‘Designing Women’,” Mart recited as he came to each one. “Crap, crap, crap, and more crap. What do you want to watch?”

A soft snore came from the other side of the bed.

“Dan?” Mart reached over and nudged his friend. “You asleep?”

Dan jerked awake. “Huh? You say something?”

“Never mind,” Mart said with a smile. He grabbed one of the pillows as well as the spread from off the bed and tossed them on the settee. “Go back to sleep, Dan-o.”

“Okay,” Dan murmured, obeying Mart’s request even as he spoke.

Mart gave a dramatic sigh as he placed his pillow at one end of the small couch. “Sure isn’t much room here,” he complained forlornly. He glanced over at his best friend who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Bet my feet’ll hang off.”

A whistling sound closely resembling a snore escaped Dan’s lips.

Heaving another noisy exhale, Mart climbed onto the settee, pulling the blanket over his body. “This thing sure is lumpy.” He made sure to speak loudly so that Dan could hear him. “Not very comfortable at all.”

He glanced over at Dan, who by this time was sleeping soundly. However, this didn’t discourage Mart. He shifted around noisily on the narrow sofa, moaning as his stocky form attempted to find a spot that wasn’t so uncomfortable. Growing more frustrated by the minute, he began thrashing around, kicking his legs and flailing his arms. This only served to make his lose his balance and fall onto the floor.

From his vantage point on the floor, Mart looked up at the bed. Dan was still sleeping peacefully. Grumbling, Mart picked up the bedspread and climbed precariously back onto the settee.

“Lucky dog,” Mart muttered grumpily as he tried to relax.

At midnight, Dan bolted upright, gasping for breath. Something was amiss, although he had no idea what. His head pounding from being woken up suddenly, he rubbed his temples as he tried to focus. Once his eyes adjusted to the black of night, he glanced around the darkened room in hopes of discerning what was wrong.

He looked over at Mart; in spite of the fact that his body was contorted in an awkward position, his best friend was fast asleep. He studied Mart for a moment or so, knowing that nobody could play possum better than the middle Belden boy. However, Mart seemed to be genuinely asleep.

Finding nothing suspicious, Dan lay back down and tried to get comfortable. Realizing that his toes were cold, he reached down and spread the blanket over his feet, making sure they were totally covered. Weary, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

“Wake up, my love.”

Dan sat up in bed as a cold breeze wafted through the dark room. Shivering, he looked down at the foot of the bed. Once again his toes were uncovered.

I must be moving around a lot in my sleep, he decided.

Sighing sleepily, he got out of bed and found another quilt in the bottom drawer of the armoire. He climbed back into bed, and then spread the quilt over his legs. This time, he made sure the blankets were tucked firmly beneath his heels so the blanket wouldn’t slip off his toes.

“Don’t waste our time together by sleeping, darling. Morning comes much too soon.”

Dan jolted awake, his heart beating a mile a minute. His mouth dry, he tried to muster some saliva with which he could lick his lips. Almost too afraid to move, he glanced nervously over at his friend.

“M-m-mart?” he barely squeaked out. Hearing no response, he cleared his throat. “Mart? D-did you say s-s-something?”

The only sound from the settee was the sound of smacking lips, a noise Mart often made in his sleep.

Now wide awake, Dan looked all around for something he could use as a weapon just in case an intruder had broken into their room. However, unless a wallet, some loose change, or a pack of gum could be used defensively, he was in trouble.

Gathering his courage, he whispered loudly, “Is somebody in here?”

Once again, the room grew icy. The hairs on the back of Dan’s neck stood up as a creepy feeling surrounded him. Inexplicably, his attention was drawn to the foot of the bed.

Right before his eyes, the blankets at the foot of the bed were bunched up by an invisible hand and suddenly thrown back, revealing Dan’s feet. Frozen in fear, he held his breath as something lightly tickled his toes. He remained motionless as the caressing of his feet continued. Suddenly, the tickling ceased, but as soon as it did, Dan felt someone blow in his ear.

“There’s no need to be afraid, my love,” the voice whispered. “I only want to please you.”

Dan gulped loudly. He wanted to pretend that he had only imagined the voice, but as sure as he was alive, he knew that what he heard was real. Although he wanted to throw the covers over his head and hide, he knew he had to find out who, or what, was speaking to him.

Closing his eyes tightly, Dan turned his head in the direction from which the noise had come. Almost in slow motion, he set his jaw and then opened his eyes. And suddenly, he was face to face with something not of this world.

The vaporous form of a woman clad in an old-fashioned saloon girl’s dress floated beside the bed. Her eyes were beguiling as she looked down upon him; her lips were pursed, almost as if she was preparing to kiss him. One hand lingered on the strap of her dress, while the other was reaching out to Dan.

Shuddering with fright, Dan jumped up from the bed and raced into the bathroom. With trembling hands, he first flipped on the light switch, and then locked the door behind him. Once that was done, he climbed into the claw foot tub, pulling the shower curtain around him like a force field. A flash of guilt passed through Dan as he realized he’d left Mart alone, but he found himself rooted to spot, frozen in fear. He spent the rest of the night crossing himself, whispering Hail Marys and every other form of prayer he’d ever learned.

The jarring ring of the telephone woke Mart the next morning. He groaned as he struggled to get up from the settee. Rubbing the crick in his neck, he picked up the receiver.

“Yeah?”

“Mart, I just heard from Señor Gallardo,” Regan said on the other line. “He’s ahead of schedule and should be here around ten this morning. I thought we could go grab some breakfast, and after he leaves, we could go on to Tombstone.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mart answered sleepily.

“Is Dan awake?”

Noticing the empty bed, Mart answered, “Well, he’s not in bed, so he must be in the bathroom. Wanna talk to him? I can get him for you.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Regan told him. “I just wanted to make sure he was up. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 8:30.”

“All right.” Mart hung up the phone and walked over to the bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Dan? You in there?”

Hearing no response, Mart bent down. Through the crack under the door, he saw the light was on in the bathroom. He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Dan? Are you okay?”

From inside the tub, Dan’s eyes opened. Panic flitted through him until he recognized the familiar voice of his best friend. “I-I’m fine,” he stammered, his voice quavering.

“We’re meeting Regan for breakfast in half an hour,” Mart told him. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“No problem,” Mart called.

Footsteps from the other side of the door told Dan that Mart had walked away. Dan took a deep breath as he climbed out of the tub. After turning on the cold water at the sink, he splashed his face. He watched the water swirling down the drain, wishing it could take the memories of last night with it.

“Hope our food gets here soon,” Mart commented. “I’m starving.”

“How’d I know you were going to say that?” Regan questioned with a wry grin. He looked over curiously at his nephew. “He’s a bit predictable, isn’t he?”

Dan stared silently into his drained coffee mug as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Raising his coppery brows slightly, Regan nudged Dan’s arm. “Hey, you awake there, Danny Boy?”

Dan jumped at the sound of his name. His gaze flitted from Regan, to Mart, and then back to Regan. Still, he remained silent.

“Gee whiz, Dan,” Regan muttered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dan demanded.

“I just meant that you’re pale,” Regan replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dan mumbled, reluctant to mention the previous night’s events.

A waitress carrying a coffeepot came over to their table. “Anyone want a refill?”

“Please,” Regan replied, holding up his now-empty mug.

“You boys stay here last night?” the waitress inquired.

“Sure did,” Regan answered.

“Which room?” The waitress moved over to Dan and poured more coffee into his cup.

“Well, I had the privilege of staying in the Duke’s room,” Regan said proudly. “I woke up feeling manlier than ever.”

The waitress laughed. “How about you boys? Which room did you stay in?”

“Some pink room,” Mart answered with a snarl. “Needless to say, I didn’t wake up feeling manly.”

“Pink room?” the waitress repeated. “Are you talking about the Julia Lowell Room?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Mart said, nodding.

The waitress cocked an eyebrow. “Did you see her?”

“See who?” Regan asked.

“Julia Lowell.” The waitress set the coffeepot on the table, obviously preparing to stay at their table for a while. “She visits often, you know.”

“That’s nice,” Mart commented absentmindedly, his thoughts on his growling belly. “Does she work here?”

“She did.” The waitress leaned down and assumed a conspiratorial tone. “Until she killed herself.”

The drink of coffee that Dan had just taken shot through the air. Choking, he looked up in surprise at the waitress. “What did you say?”

“Julia Lowell worked here at the Copper Queen until her death,” the waitress explained.

“But you said that she still visits,” Mart pointed out, his curiosity piqued.

“She does. Or to be more precise, her spirit visits the hotel.” The waitress sat down in the empty chair at the table. “Julia Lowell was what you would call a lady of the night.”

“A hooker?” Regan’s coppery brows raised with interest.

The waitress nodded. “She was a prostitute in the Copper Queen, and she stayed in the pink room.”

“Yuck,” Mart muttered. “Hope they cleaned it good.”

Ignoring the teenager’s comment, the waitress continued her story. “She liked men, especially married men. She fell in love with one in particular. When he refused to leave his wife and marry her, Julia was so heartbroken that she committed suicide. However, her spirit never left the Copper Queen.”

Regan chuckled. “That’s a good story to draw in business, but you can’t possibly expect us to believe that her ghost lives here.”

“I don’t care whether you believe it or not,” the waitress said with a shrug. “But it’s true. Julia Lowell’s ghost haunts this hotel. And hers isn’t the only one, either. This place is full of spirits who haven’t found rest. There’s Rose who worked in the lobby, and there’s the little boy, Billy, whose mother was a maid here when he drowned. Those of us who work here see them all the time.”

Dan cleared his throat nervously. “What does Julia supposedly do when she… uhhh… visits her room?”

“Depends on her mood and who’s in the bed,” the waitress said. “If a woman’s in the room, Julia rarely decides to make an appearance. However, if an attractive man is in her bed, she’ll do all she can to get his attention.”

Mart gulped loudly. “L-l-like what?”

“Well, for some reason, Julia likes to tickle men’s toes,” the waitress announced matter-of-factly. “Male visitors often wake up in the middle of the night with cold feet.”

For some reason, that struck Regan and Mart as hilarious. The two laughed loudly; however, Dan didn’t find the statement nearly as humorous.

“Maybe those guys were just in a deep sleep and don’t remember kicking the covers off the bed,” Regan offered. “It’s going to take more than a case of chilly toes to convince me this place is haunted.”

“What else does she do?” Dan asked in a quavering voice, ignoring his uncle’s cynicism.

“Several men have been woken up by a woman whispering,” the waitress added.

“That’s probably just the wind,” Mart dismissed.

“A few guests have seen her,” the waitress told them. “How do you explain that?”

“Sounds like somebody ate too many tacos before bed,” Regan said with a grin.

The waitress merely smiled. Skeptics often frequented the Copper Queen. More often than not, by the time these guests checked out, they became believers in the paranormal.

“Ma’am, what does Julia’s ghost look like?” Dan questioned.

“Dan!” Regan exclaimed. “Surely you don’t buy into this bunk!”

The waitress cast the husky redhead a condescending glance before turning her attention to the dark-headed teenager. “Usually, she’s like the mist, floating around as she pleases. When she decides to make an appearance to one of our guests, she takes a vaporous form. Not solid, but clearly a woman. If she really likes a man, she’s even been known to partially undress for him.”

“No way!” Mart’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he almost spilled his orange juice as he slapped the table in surprise.

The waitress nodded, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “So you’d better be careful, boys. I wouldn’t be surprised if Julia showed up tonight.”

“Eugenia!” A hulking Native American man who served as host for the restaurant came up behind the group. “We don’t pay you to chat with guests. I think this table’s order is up, so get busy.”

“Yes sir.” The waitress quickly stood to her feet. After grabbing her coffeepot, she whispered, “Keep your toes covered, boys,” before hustling to the kitchen.

“What a crackpot,” Regan muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. “I can’t believe people actually buy into that bunch of malarkey.”

Dan sat silently in his chair. He knew exactly why people believed Eugenia’s stories.

He’d met Julia firsthand.

After a busy day of sightseeing, Regan, Dan, and Mart returned to the Copper Queen that evening. In preparation for their trip home the following morning, they ate an early supper and went to their rooms, much to Dan’s dismay. He was quite apprehensive about returning to Julia’s quarters.

Dan sighed wearily as he retrieved the card key from his pocket. Before he slid it into the slot to unlock the door, he turned to his best friend. “Are you sure you want to go to bed now? After all, the night’s still young.”

“True, but your slave driver uncle is getting us up at dark o’clock to leave for home,” Mart pointed out. “I need my beauty rest.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Dan urged. “We can sleep in the truck tomorrow. Don’t you want to walk around outside?”

“Not really.”

Desperate, Dan resorted to playing upon Mart’s weaknesses. “Wanna go get something out of the vending machines? My treat.”

Mart shook his head. “Nah, I’m still too full from dinner. Two pieces of blueberry pie for dessert may’ve been too many after that massive country-fried steak dinner. Now, open the door.”

Dan reluctantly opened the door and went inside. The creepy feeling that had been present when they entered the room yesterday was absent, so he prayed there wouldn’t be any paranormal activity during the night.

While Mart was in the shower, Dan warily searched every nook and cranny of the room for anything unusual. When it was his own turn to shower, he washed his body and hair as quickly as possible, not wanting to be alone any longer than necessary.

At bedtime, Mart tossed a pillow and the bedspread onto the settee. “Hope you sleep on that thing better than I did,” he snickered.

“I’m sure I’ll sleep better tonight than I did last night,” Dan retorted.

“Who knows?” Mart queried with an impish grin, oblivious to Dan’s fearfulness. “Maybe we’ll get a visit from Julia Lowell herself.”

“That’s not funny, Mart,” Dan snapped.

“What?” Mart shrugged his shoulders apathetically. “Surely you aren’t afraid of a hooking ghost with a foot fetish?!”

“Shhh!” hissed Dan. “You don’t want her to hear you!”

“She’s not even real!” Mart clutched his stomach and hooted with laughter. “You’re really afraid, aren’t you?”

Dan walked over to his friend and pointed his index finger close to Mart’s face. “You bet I am. And you would be, too, if you’d seen what I did last night.”

“What’d you see?” Mart asked doubtfully in an attempt to humor Dan.

“I saw her,” Dan choked out. “I saw Julia Lowell.”

Mart shook his head in disbelief. “Dude, that isn’t funny. Quit yanking my chain.”

“I’m not kidding, Mart,” Dan whispered huskily. “Last night I saw Julia’s ghost.”

Mart opened his mouth to speak, but strangely, nothing came out. After taking a deep breath, he tried again. “You’re just trying to scare me so you can have the bed. Well, it won’t work. It’s your turn to sleep on that lumpy, skinny couch, and that’s that. And no ghost story is going to make me give up my warm and cozy bed.”

Dan clutched his friend’s arm. “I’m not trying to scare you, Mart. I’m telling the truth. I swear on a stack of Bibles.”

Mart’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dan. Although he hated to admit it, Dan sounded honest. Frighteningly honest.

“I know you think I’m crazy,” Dan continued, his voice trembling. “But I swear that I saw her.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Mart finally said. Dan sighed in relief. “Tell me what happened.”

After the pair moved to the settee and sat down, Dan began his story. “I woke up twice last night, and every time, the room had a creepy feeling. When I tried to go back to sleep, I noticed my feet were cold. I thought I was just wiggling around a lot and kicking off the covers. But the second time, I made sure to tuck the blankets down under my feet so they couldn’t come off as easily.”

Mart nodded, totally engrossed in his friend’s tale. “Go on.”

“Well, after I had fallen back asleep, a voice woke me up. I thought it was you, but you were conked out. All of a sudden, the room grew icy cold, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked down at the foot of the bed and, for no reason at all, the covers bunched up like someone was holding them, but nobody was there!

“Whatever was pulling on the blankets exposed my feet, and then I felt someone tickling my toes. Then, just as quickly as it began, the tickling stopped, and I heard someone whisper in my ear. Although I was totally freaked out of my flippin’ mind, I turned my head and saw…” Dan paused to take a breath.

“What’d you see?!” urged Mart excitedly.

Dan swallowed a large lump that had risen in his throat. “I saw a woman, but she wasn’t a normal woman. She looked like she was made out of fog. She was wearing a dress like the ones saloon girls in the old westerns wore, and she was sort of smiling at me.”

“Did she take off her top?” Mart prodded.

“No!” Dan spat out. “You’re so immature.”

“What happened then?” Mart prompted, brushing off Dan’s insult.

“She was reaching out to touch me,” Dan said with a shiver. “I bolted out of the bed and ran into the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” Mart couldn’t contain his amused grin.

Dan smiled sheepishly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Dude, that’s the first place chicks go,” Mart teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“What would you’ve done?”

“Crapped my pants,” Mart admitted wryly. “So what do we do now?”

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I guess we’ll have to go to sleep eventually.”

“Okay,” Mart said with a nod. After clearing his throat, he added, “You sleep in the bed, and I’ll just crash on the sofa-thing again.”

“Yeah, right,” Dan disagreed with a snort. “It’s your turn to sleep in the bed.”

“But I can’t sleep in the bed,” Mart argued. “My overwhelming masculinity will be too tempting for Julia to pass up! She’ll be tickling my toes and stripping down in no time!”

“That’s just a chance you’ll have to take.” Dan gave a hardy shove to his unsuspecting friend, making Mart land on the floor. “Now get out of my bed. I’m tired.”

“But you two are already acquainted,” Mart stammered. “I’d hate to break up the beginnings of a beautiful relationship.”

Dan cast his friend a withering glare. “Hardy-har-har. You’re a riot. Now go away.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Mart assumed an indignant expression, making him look frighteningly like his almost-twin. “When you ran away to the john last night, you left me out here alone. You know I’m dead to the world when I’m asleep. That ghost could’ve had her evil way with me, and I would’ve been helpless.”

“That was a chance I was willing to take,” Dan retorted dryly.

“Dude, you could’ve at least woke me up and taken me to the bathroom with you!” Mart stormed.

“What are you, a girl or something?” Dan queried, a mischievous smile wiggling at the corners of his lips. “We’re manly men, or don’t you remember? We don’t go to the bathroom together.”

Mart huffed loudly, glaring up at his friend. “Well, in this instance, I would’ve made an exception. This manly man doesn’t need some whacked-out ghoulfriend. I’m a one woman man, preferably a living woman. And I’m a good friend, too. I wouldn’t have left you out there to fend for yourself.”

Ignoring his friend’s tirade, Dan closed his eyes and lay back on his pillow.

“You aren’t actually going to sleep tonight, are you?” Mart inquired, his tone incredulous.

“I might as well try,” Dan told him.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“I was,” Dan admitted. “But then I thought of something. She didn’t bother you last night when you were sleeping on the couch. Maybe she just bugs the guys who are in her bed.”

Mart gulped loudly. “Unfortunately for me, that makes sense. I don’t suppose you could be bribed to switch places with me?”

“Nope.” Dan gave a swift kick to Mart’s backside. “Now go away before Julia starts looking for you.”

Grumbling about the injustice of his predicament, Mart stalked over to the bed. After fastidiously tucking the remaining blankets under the mattress, he got on the floor and peeked under the bed. Finding nothing there besides dust bunnies, he switched off the light and climbed into bed.

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“You asleep?”

Dan sighed. “If I were asleep, would I be talking to you?”

“Buddy, can I ask you a favor?”

“What?”

“Will you sleep with me?” Mart squeaked out. “And I mean that in a totally heterosexual way, of course.”

“Mart, just go to sleep,” Dan groaned.

“I can’t,” Mart insisted. “Every time I close my eyes I think I feel the covers move.”

“Just think about something else,” Dan suggested with a yawn. “Think about Di.”

“I’ll try.”

Several minutes passed, and just when Dan thought Mart had fallen asleep, a bloodcurdling scream came from the general vicinity of the bed.

“Something touched me!” Mart shrieked. Gasping for breath, he added, “Oh, wait, it was just my other foot.”

Dan moaned and covered his head with the pillow.

“Dan?”

“What?!”

“If anything happens to me, will you tell Di that I loved her more than I loved Moms’ Dutch apple pie?”

“Dude, if you don’t shut your pie hole, Julia won’t get a chance to hurt you because I’ll kill you first!” Dan exploded.

“Fine,” Mart stated indignantly. “Just go to sleep. By all means, don’t stay up all night worrying that I’ll be molested by some weirdo ghost.”

“That’s the plan,” Dan mumbled, awkwardly stretching out his wiry form on the uncompromising settee.

“I’m sure Dad can take out a loan to pay for all the therapy I’ll need when we get home,” Mart continued in his most pitiful voice. “If I get home, that is. But there’s no need for you to be concerned.”

“I’m not,” Dan promised sleepily, closing his eyes to begin a restful slumber.

“And who knows,” Mart added. “Maybe Julia won’t bother me. Maybe she just has a thing for you and will leave me alone. Stranger things have happened.”

Instantly, Dan’s eyes opened. He hated to admit it, but there was a good chance Mart was correct; maybe Julia did have a thing for him and would leave Mart alone. Dan’s eyes flitted throughout the room, searching for any sign of ghostly activity.

A flash of heat lightning illuminated the room briefly, casting an eerie glow on all the walls. With a terrified shriek, Dan bounded from the settee, leapt across the floor, jumped on the bed, hopped over Mart, and burrowed under the covers beside his friend.

Mart, who had been just as frightened as Dan, didn’t seem to mind. He casually scooted over a bit closer to his friend. “D-d-dude? Can you f-f-feel the bed sh-shaking?”

“S-sorry, man,” Dan stammered, his teeth chattering from fear. “Th-that’s just m-m-me trembling.”

Eventually, sleep won its hard-fought battle with Dan and Mart. So deep was their slumber that they remained blissfully unaware of the sudden change of temperature. A hazy mist rolled into the room, finally collecting at the foot of the bed. The vague shape of a woman materialized, her body still shrouded by the ethereal fog.

She hovered motionless, merely gazing wistfully at the blond-haired man lying on the left side of the bed. The apparition’s hollow eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness, enabling her to longingly study his rugged features. Her most humanlike quality was the glowing red rope marks around her neck; evidence of her suicide had followed Julia into the afterlife. Through the mist, her delicately-boned hand reached out and grasped the blankets covering Mart’s feet.

“Tell me what you like.”

At the head of the bed, a pair of china blue eyes opened widely. Sensing something wasn’t quite right, Mart’s breathing became shallow. His limbs remained motionless, the only movement being his chest rising up and down. When he exhaled, the frigid temperature caused him to see his breath. Afraid to speak, he patted Dan’s arm. His friend jerked awake suddenly, instantly aware that they were no longer alone.

Dan tilted his head in the direction of the foot of the bed, and Mart nodded slowly in response.

“What should we do?” Mart asked in his lowest voice.

“Run,” Dan mouthed.

“But I don’t think my legs will work,” Mart whimpered softly. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his mouth formed a grimace. “Dude, did you just touch my toe?”

Dan gave a slight shake to his head. “No.”

“In the immortal words of the great Shaggy Rogers— ‘Zoinks’,” Mart shuddered.

“I’ve got an idea,” Dan whispered. “On the count of three, we’ll both jump out of bed and run like banshees for the hallway.”

“Dan, I honestly don’t think I can move.”

“Well, then I’ll grab you by the scruff of the neck and drag you behind me,” Dan told him. “Are you with me?”

“I guess so,” Mart answered, stifling a chuckle. At Dan’s stern look, he explained, “I can’t help it. She’s still tickling my feet!”

With a roll of his eyes, Dan began counting, “One, two—”

However, before he could finish his countdown, the fog vanished from the foot of the bed and suddenly rematerialized where the boys’ heads were. Frozen with fear, Mart and Dan watched as the mist collected, forming a full-bodied apparition. The ghostly figure floated above them in a horizontal position, her hollow eyes almost trying to draw them into her world.

“Stay with me,” she beckoned in a beguiling voice, her mouth drawn downward. “Stay with me forever!”

Screaming, the boys bounded out of the bed, gathered their belongings at breakneck speed, and vacated the room as quickly as their shaking legs could carry them.

Early the next morning, Regan opened the back door of the horse trailer to make sure everything was secured. He jumped in surprise as two heads popped up from a pile of hay.

“Dan? Mart?” he exclaimed in surprise. “What’re you kids doing in here?”

“Uhh…” Dan stammered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “We got up early and thought we’d make sure everything was ready to go. Right, Mart?”

Mart, who was in the middle of a yawn, nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “Can we leave now?”

“Anxious to be cooped up in the truck with me for forty-some hours over the next several days?” Regan questioned.

“Nah, we’re just excited about sleeping in our own beds,” Dan amended quickly. “Now are we ready to go, or not?”

Regan studied the two young men carefully with critical sage green eyes. “What about breakfast?”

“We can stop at McDonalds later if we get hungry,” Mart insisted as he stood up and walked towards the door.

“Never seen the Human Garbage Disposal so willing to pass up a meal,” Regan muttered. Finally, he shrugged in resignation. “Well, I’m ready if you boys are. Let’s go home.”

Regan led the way out of the horse trailer, Mart and Dan clipping at his heels. The boys had already gotten inside the truck and fastened their seatbelts before Regan had been able to even climb in the driver’s seat. The redhead looked at the anxious pair out of the corner of his eye and merely shook his head in bemusement.

As he put the key in the ignition, Regan chuckled. “Before I left, I was getting myself a cup of coffee, and I saw that dingy waitress again. She asked me if we’d ever seen any ghosts. Isn’t that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Dan turned back to look at Mart in the backseat. The stocky blond merely shook his head, giving his friend the silent message that he had no desire to share their experience with the cynical groom.

However, just as Regan was pulling the truck out of the parking lot, a vaporous figure in a third-floor window caught the groom’s eye. Positive it was only the sunlight playing tricks on him, he rubbed his eyes with a freckled hand.

The vaporous form was still there.

“What the—” Regan began.

“What is it, Uncle Bill?” Dan inquired, anxiously glancing over at his relative.

“N-n-nothing,” was Regan’s terse reply. “Just the sun in my eyes.”

From the window, Julia Lowell watched wistfully as the two young men who’d been in her room drove away. With a regretful sigh, the lady of the night allowed the drape to fall over the window. Julia floated to the end of the bed, waiting for her next gentleman caller. One gloomy thought consumed her, filling the entire room with a foreboding aura.

None of the good ones ever stuck around.

Credits:

As previously stated, this story was written for the Jixemitri 2006 Spoon-a-thon. Every writer has a weakness or two, and I’ve discovered that writing spine-tingling stories is one of mine. I apologize for the absolute uncreepiness of this story. I’m not a big fan of scary stories, which definitely is a hindrance in writing a scary story. *G* However, for the past two years, I’d wanted to participate during the spooky festivities, but was never able to come up with a story. This year, I was determined!

Thank you so much to my lovely, faithful editor, Steph H, who edited this for me at the last minute and assured me that it didn’t suck. I love you, sweetie! You’re the best! Thanks again for all your help and suggestions. {{{HUGS}}}

Thank you also to my wonderful husband, who acted as my second editor. Thanks, sweetie, for laughing in all the right spots and telling me this was good.

The Copper Queen is a real historic hotel in Bisbee, Arizona, and the ghost of Julia Lowell does supposedly dwell there. I saw the history on an episode of “Ghost Hunters” and thought it would be fun to have Mart and Dan visit there. Based on what I saw on that show, I don’t recommend that the faint of heart stay there. For the record, I don’t believe in ghosts, but I do believe something is there. (Evil or familiar spirits, if you’re curious.) And yes, Julia’s routine is exactly as I’ve described, and Rose and Billy also supposedly haunt the Copper Queen.

There is also a room in the Copper Queen in which John Wayne stayed, and which is named after him. His ghost does not frequent the hotel, though. Sorry, guys.

My father had a Walkaloosa (half Tennessee Walker and half Appaloosa) which he named Lucky. Mr. Wheeler’s horse is named after him, although Mr. Wheeler’s horse was a thoroughbred.

Bonanza and Big Valley are westerns that I used to watch as a child. And for the record, Little Joe and Heath were two of the cutest cowboys who ever rode the range. J

Pepto-Bismol is a pink product that helps tummy aches. And I think it’s a lovely shade of pink…

Lee Press-On Nails are acrylic nails that you can buy. By the way, they do make toenails, and they’re very cute.

Sleepless in Seattle and Steel Magnolias are famous “chick flicks”. Gilmore Girls and Designing Women are television shows which are favorites among women.

The great Shaggy Rogers is, of course, Shaggy from the cartoon, Scooby Doo. And he often said Zoinks. He is also responsible for the word “ghoulfriends”.