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Once upon a time, way, far back in 1630, the Dutch East India Company set about to make Hudson River Valley in New York or, as it was known then, New Netherlands, a feudal aristocracy. The combination of legal and military customs in medieval Europe had already flourished between the 9th and 15th centuries, and the organization was eager to bring their successful endeavors from Asia and Europe to the New World. The Patroon system was soon established and any landowner who brought fifty adults to work his lands and chattels over a four-year period was given a 25-kilometer riverfront estate, and awarded all the fishing and hunting privileges and, even more importantly, all civil and criminal jurisdiction over these lands.

Even after the English took over, this aristocratic system remained even more entrenched along the river, adding the twist of primogeniture to its long line of privileges. After the Revolution of 1776, these lands were supposed to be just huge estates, without all the old world baggage.

Well, it was supposed to be. As you know, old traditions die hard, and the Dutch ways of patroonage still prevailed. Only now, the tenants were little more than serfs, and required to share one fourth of all they grew or earned with their landholder. They were also subject to his rules and laws that often fell outside the rights of a free American. Perhaps the times had changed, and the patroons were no longer being called "lords" but "magistrates" or even just "sirs", but even in 1840, the tenants still farmed, and paid their tithes to the patroons, and the patroons still administered justice - harsh, swift justice for even the smallest transgressions.

Nathaniel Raymond Turner was awake in his bed reading by candlelight. It had been an eventful day. He'd had Gerhart van Reisen flogged for insubordination, with the threat that one more shortfall on his quarter day tithes would entail eviction and confiscation of his livestock. He was quite pleased with himself. The previous month, he had sat as magistrate over the trial of certain seditious rebels and hanged the lot of them, so he knew that van Reisen would comply with the rest of his tithe and that would quell any more talk of independence.

He heard his daughter Rebecca moving about in her rooms across the hall. Despite the fact the house was huge and Rebecca had indicated a preference to having a view of the Hudson, he insisted that she stay in the rooms near his, overlooking the great gardens below. It was all for the best, and in this house his word was law, as it was everywhere else. He had even laughed when he heard one of the villagers - not one of his tenants, but a freeholder which always annoyed him - call him a "hanging judge". From the shopkeeper's tone, it was not the compliment he took it to be.

Some might have said he resembled the seventh President of the United States quite remarkably, from his shock of white hair and the piercing, hard blue eyes, to his six-foot-one, whippet-thin body that towered over most of the other folk around the valley and its villages. Rumor had it that in his youth, he had even fought a duel and killed his man, just like Andrew Jackson had done. He was, after all, a patroon scion and a judge, jury and, when needed, executioner. Even the current president, "little Van" from Kinderhook along the Hudson, would have recognized that Anglicization of 'Nathaniël Raymond van Keerder' to 'Turner', as he'd changed his name from Maarten van Buren to the more accepted Martin.

That was about where the concessions to the new American way stopped. Nathaniel Turner was as steeped in the rights and privileges as his father and ancestors before him. He was the epitome of a Patroon and carefully cultivated his role as the arbiter of civil and criminal jurisdiction throughout his county. Few transgressions ever met with mercy when he deigned to pass judgment.

There was no mercy in his soul, no forgiveness in his eyes, nor love in his heart. His tenants quailed at the quarter day reckoning if they came up short in their tithes. Turner evicted them as soon as look at them, allowing them no leeway for bad crops, weather, or sickness.

The only person able to touch Turner's heart was his Rebecca. She tempered his cruelty with mercy, and often helped those whom her father evicted or punished. Ever since she was a small child, she had stood by the patroon's side, holding his shoulder as he sat in his huge throne-like chair, as the tenants presented him their tithes on quarter day. Only her presence and intervention kept him from displaying his utter disregard for their plights. When one quarter day she had been ill, two men were evicted and another hanged for attacking the patroon on his throne. It was said she ran to the river and sat on its banks, surrounded by her animals, weeping. She never missed a quarter day again.

Rebecca had long golden hair, the prettiest sea-green eyes, and unusually tanned skin, as if she had been in the rays of sunlight all her life and not just three or four months out of the year. Her mother, long gone, had been a virtual stranger to the area, having come to the Hudson Valley a pregnant young bride, and gone two months later, having fled the household, as her father had told her. Turner didn't care to elaborate on the woman's quick departure, and raised his daughter himself with the aid of governesses and private teachers.

Folks often wondered how a girl like Rebecca, with her exotic looks, kind temperament, and sense of goodness and righteousness, could ever be related to the patroon, but Mr. Turner neither cared to discuss it, nor thought it was anyone's business. Those who asked, and they usually did not, never got an answer. And since he was a feared patroon and the areas' most powerful magistrate, no one cared to pry either.

Rebecca was different in other ways too. She was always smiling, and she was always happy. There was a spring to her step when she walked, and a warm, friendly greeting for everyone she came across. She was gentle and kind. One of her common activities was taking food and gifts to her father's tenants to make his strictures less difficult. The tenants all felt sorry for her for they saw the way he looked at her, but if anyone said a word, then worse things happened.

They all knew the story of her cousin, Anders Cas van Keerder, who had come around to woo her and how the patroon had treated him, and how poor Rebecca had to stand and witness his flogging before they sent him out on the river to an unknown fate. All because Anders had questioned Nathaniel's isolation of his beautiful cousin, and wanted to marry her and take her away from the manor.

Rebecca loved the river most of all, her hidden small inlet, her own private pool, covered by the rocks and trees, camouflaged from the great and busy traffic along the great river. Here she was able to escape with her animals, her books, and her thoughts. She would sit on the banks, and watch as the river otters played and the other wild creatures from the surrounding forest came to drink. She was their friend and they trusted her.

**

Anyway, welcome to Otterbont, my young friends. Oh thank you, yes, it was quite a time back then. I have many other stories if you ever want to hear them. I should point out to you though that I saw them recently. Ah, the look in your eyes says it all. You do not believe me. I know, I know. It is impossible, you might say. She has been gone since, what? Let me think, it was 1840 so...175 years since. Hmm, I suppose we could make this year a sesquicentennial of sorts. He has not been here long either, just over a month or so, give or take.

I see you are still admiring the house and no longer interested in my ravings. Oh yes, he did a magnificent job. It was fully electrified, you know, and plumbed and fed with gas lines over time. The exterior of the house is a combination of stone, and dab and wattle for the upper levels. On the west end is a turret of imitation medieval designs that houses the library. On the lower level there is a drawing room, a morning room, a large formal dining room, and a smaller one attached. Towards the rear is a large kitchen and small bathroom. Upstairs, of course, are the bedroom suites, ten in total, and each suite has a sitting room, bed chamber, and bathroom. Below Rebecca's room is a conservatory and music room that was added on during a renovation in the 1940s.

He made it all for her, you know. Who? Why, Rebecca of course. You might scoff, but I am merely guessing. But when I look at the house, it just feels like he created it all just for her. I swear to you also, I have seen her, well, them walking the grounds. One time she got up close to me, and I swear the same sea-green eyes looked straight into mine.

The river? Well, I do not venture back to the inlet pond too much these days, but as far as I can tell, they are still there. I suppose they will always be there. They seem happy, but I am quite sure they really do not like intruders. And she deserves to be happy. She certainly has waited long enough.

I think she is happy, at least I hope she is. I am going to bed now. You can see yourselves out since the storm is nearly spent. Or you can bunk in the second room. If you have a hankering to buy the place, I suggest you leave the inlet just as it is. And if you decide to swim out there by the light of the moon, or feel the need to sit along the dock and stare into the water, you might just come across the pair.

It was nice to make your acquaintance. As you can see this house was fully restored and is now magnificent. I really hope you decide it is what you want. And I would like to see this place happy for once.

**

Cas Turner was stunned to learn that his great-great-something or other had been a patroon in the Hudson River Valley. He sort of knew the history. The house had been built three hundred years before, and had come into the family through the Dutch émigrés that brought their required 50 men the 25 miles of land. From what Cas understood, the former estate was huge and had sported a wide range of tenants, outbuildings, and gardens, and his ancestor had ruled the area dispensing law and order. Now all that was left in the family was the stone manor house, with its odd combination of federalist revival architecture, and a hodge-podge of turrets and walls, as if someone was trying to impose a medieval manor over a clean and crisp mansion. Whatever the case, the entire place, much to Cas' chagrin upon his arrival, was in need of repair.

There had been attempts to rent out the place for ages. They had even lately had Wi-Fi installed, along with all the other amenities, including a satellite dish and self-cleaning appliances for the spacious kitchen. Still, it looked like a hot mess, with the ancient furniture, dusty paintings, and its dire reputation. No one ever stayed in the main manor house for long. He knew something had happened in 1840, and again in 1846, but he wasn't sure what.

Over the years, the family had sold off much of the land, so all that was left of the original 25 miles up and down the river, and several miles inland was about six acres - the land around the house, the expanse down to the river, and the small pond that had once been an inlet, but was now a lagoon fed by the waterway and isolated from the rest of the world. The overgrown gardens, a maze, and several outbuildings were all that remained of the main house. Even though it was quite the cache to say you were renting Otterbont Manor, it usually meant that you occasionally entertained in the main house and lived in the smaller eleven-room cottage nestled back in the woods. This cottage, built in 1840, was supposed to be the house that Nathaniel Turner constructed for his daughter Rebecca. All anyone ever knew was that Rebecca never lived there.

**

Yes, I know. That in itself is quite a story. I mean, here I am staying in this house, and trying to get someone, anyone to buy it, and what am I doing? Telling you tales of its early days. You heard what? Haunted? Well, perhaps it is. It stores many sad memories, this house. Anders, Rebecca, and even old Nathaniel himself.

**

Rebecca Turner walked down the gently curved path leading to her gorgeous view of the Hudson River. She was taking her friends, the river otters that dwelled in her private inlet, some food. Walking alongside her was her dog, and following and frolicking were her several cats. Even though her dog was an otterhound, he never hunted her friends, and often protected them.

She loved her animals. She preferred them to most people. When her father had flogged Anders, she'd fled to the river and found herself surrounded by the otters. They'd even brought their young. She loved to cuddle with all of them, and allowed them to climb over her, and sit in the folds of her dress.

Her father Nathaniel was difficult, and there were days when he watched her that frightened her. She vaguely remembered her mother, Rebecca, who had fled Otterbont in the middle of the night. She'd left without her clothes, her personal mementos, and even without bidding her little girl farewell. Rebecca often wondered why her mother ran away, although her father claimed it was because she was unable to bear a son to term and didn't want to disappoint him. After her mother left, Nathaniel replaced all her nurses and governesses with new ones he'd brought over from the Netherlands. As for her lessons, he taught her to read and left her alone in his great library. It was a lonely life and she filled her days with books, her animals and, when she could escape his constant vigilance, her kindnesses to the tenants.

Once in a while Nathaniel took Rebecca to the great city of New York for shopping, musicales, and other cultural events. They rarely stayed longer than a few nights and Rebecca was always glad to be home, if not to the great prison of the manor house, but to her otters and her other animal friends.

Occasionally someone from the extended family would come to Otterbont and attempt to draw Nathaniel out, or suggest that Rebecca might enjoy some time away with others her own age. Anders Cas van Keerder had come with this purpose, but instead of greeting his brother's son with open arms, Nathaniel had argued with him and thrown him from the house. Anders was a stubborn young man, tall blond, and stalwart, and he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. When he demanded that Rebecca come with him, Nathaniel had him locked in a room in the cottage he'd built on the grounds and on quarter day, had him flogged in front of all his tenants. Then he had him dragged down to the river and...

**

Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, I know. Tall, blond, stalwart. I guess I do resemble Anders a bit, yes. Funny, Cas remarked on this similarity as well. And now you are here because you knew him, I mean, Cas, correct? Why are you surprised I would know that? I know this as sure as I am standing here. So, if you knew him, then I would venture to guess that you are looking for him, and trying to find out why he disappeared. I assure you, my young friends, he is happy, happier than you can even imagine.

Let me tell you a bit more about the history of this sad house. The sad thing about Anders was that he was not in love with his cousin Rebecca, he just felt so sorry for her. His father had told him stories of Nathaniel in their youth and they raised the hackles on his neck to think of that young girl locked in with the hanging judge.

After Anders left, Rebecca realized that she would never escape Otterbont. In some ways, she did not want to leave her lagoon, her otters, and all the other creatures that comforted and amused her. She spent most of her days in the cottage. That is correct, the very one where we are standing next to. She opened it up to her animals, and they all had the run of the cottage. It was here she was able to laugh and play, and for the years between Anders' attempts to free her until the day she vanished like her mother before her, this cottage was her refuge. She spent her days here but each night, Nathaniel required her presence at dinner, in the drawing room, and finally insisted she sleep in the rooms he assigned her.

Rebecca knew he watched her, and she was always uncertain as to why. He was her father, and she supposed he meant the best for her. As she grew older and the memory of Anders' faded, fewer relatives came to Otterbont and she grew more isolated. Her only outside interactions were among the tenant farmers and workers when she took them food, medicine, and other items to try to atone for the harshness of her father's rule.

Then one day, Rebecca's otterhound was found wandering, his coat streaked with blood. When the tenant that found him tried to take him home, the dog ran off and was only glimpsed occasionally near the river where the otters dwelled. Rebecca's cats became feral and their descendants still dwell throughout the riverfront, always protected, always safe. Only here, when all other otter habitats were destroyed and the otters fled from their homes, Otterbont always had at least one pair of mating otters dwelling in the inlet.

What? You heard from Cas that there were otters here? When it stops raining, you should go down to the lagoon, you will see quite a sight.

About three years after Rebecca departed, the tenants revolted and stripped Nathaniel of his powers. This was three years or so before the great land riots, but something moved them to make the changes. The laws changed and forbade what was essentially involuntary servitude and serfdom. By then though, each tenant owned his own land and Nathaniel, well, he was gone. He still had his own farms, his own lands away from the river. It was rumored that he went forth to seek Rebecca. No one knows.

Anders' father came to Otterbont and found that Nathaniel had turned over the lands to him, with the provision that it always remain in the family until the last Turner or van Keerder. He left a fortune to maintain the house and grounds. Anders' father declined to live where his son was last seen, but wanted the millions that his brother left, so he kept the house and decided to rent it out.

This did not exactly work as one would have hoped, as you know.

Why, you ask? You cannot guess?

Cas, the last scion of the once large Turner and Van Keerder clan, came into possession of Otterbont after his grandfather had passed. You know how he was, I am sure. Enthusiastic, happy-go-lucky, and ambitious, most would say. He arrived in the summer after he graduated university and before he started his graduate work.

He was determined to restore the house to its former glory. After four long years at intellectual pursuits he looked forward to working with his hands. Everyone, including me, told him to stay in the cottage. It was more benign than the great house, but Cas did not listen. He hired me to help him.

During the days, the house is not difficult, but at night, that is another story. I do not stay here too often. Even just last night, I retreated to the cottage. The house, Nathaniel's house, does not like strangers.

Yes, I know I left you here by the manor, but you are quite safe, I assure you. Cas made certain of that.

And how do I know this?

**

For the first two nights, the house was quiet. Cas chose to stay in what were Rebecca's old rooms. He liked the view of the gardens and the cottage, where he could see all the animals that felt safe wandering through the former lush beds. He saw foxes, and cats, and night birds, and he even saw otters at play.

But during his third night, he thought he saw a white shadow against the dark woods that led to the path leading to the lagoon. He ran outside and saw her.

Rebecca.

She was wandering the grounds that were suddenly now pristine and beautiful. It was as if she walked with the dawn through time itself. Cas followed her ethereal form with wide eyes, as she walked across the yard and then towards the lagoon. A ghostly otterhound accompanied her and several wild cats emerged from the woods and frolicked around them. All the other animals watched her passage and bowed.

Cas followed her, and watched from the shadows. Rebecca sat along the bank of her private inlet, and the otters came to her. They nuzzled her ghostly hands, and offered her their tummies to pat. The cats, with their kittens clambered all over her, and the otterhound stood watch.

He was about to speak to her when another ghostly figure, a tall and dark man, emerged from the house and despite the dog's attempts to keep him from the girl, he grabbed Rebecca and carried her, kicking and fighting, back to the house. She silently shrieked her defiance into the night, and it entered Cas' soul where it took hold and compelled him. He suddenly wanted nothing more in the universe than to help this girl.

Cas followed them back to the house. The other ghost entered the drawing room and threw the girl onto a settee that earlier that day Cas had discarded as broken with rotting upholstery. Now it was back and looking like new. When he squinted his eyes, he realized that he could see the room both in the past, and now in the present in a bizarre sort of double vision.

Still hidden in the night shadows, the man almost didn't see yet another spirit wander towards the drawing room with the others. A woman, weeping and holding out her arms to the girl. She tried to enter the room but something, an unknown force, kept her back.

Then Cas heard Nathaniel speak. "Why do you still fight me? I've kept us together for 175 years and will do so for 175 more. They can raze this house with salt and I'll still keep you here. You are mine forever."

"Just as you kept my mother, and kept me from her?" Rebecca looked towards the door where the ghostly spirit of her mother stood, tears flowing, with the blood of her death-wound streaking down her white gown. "You couldn't conquer me when I lived, you will never do it now. Even if it takes me another century, I will be free of your evil."

"Don't be silly, girl. If you yield to me, I'll let your mother go. I'll even let you share Anders fate." Nathaniel sneered. "You'll never escape me, not until you find someone willing to change for you. And that will never happen."

Rebecca sat, defiantly watching her father as he turned and strode around the room, engrossed in admiring several paintings on the walls. She then turned and looked straight at Cas, her eyes capturing, and nodded to him before pointing out of the drawing room and towards one of her old rooms. Cas, over his initial fear, stealthily departed and retreated to their rooms trapped in different times.

**

You figured that Cas had a reason for what he has done, right? Well, you do not yet know the whole story. Not a bit of it.

Cas? Of course I know where Cas is. And once you have heard the entire tale, you will know too. What happened? You look like you saw something strange. No, sorry. I did not see something streak through the woods, down to the river. What do you mean it looked like a huge otterhound? There are not that many left in the world that one would be out running about here, I assure you. Perhaps a trick of the light, now that it has stopped raining.

Oh, you hear it too. Yes, of course I hear the mewing. One of the feral cats probably had kittens. I shall have to look in on them later.

You have a one-track mind, for certain, asking about Cas again. If you go over there, by the river, and look carefully enough, you will see them. We can walk there, it is not far.

Yes, there they are. As you can see, he is bigger than she is, but she has that mischievousness that always leads him on a merry chase.

Where was I?

Oh, right. Cas' room.

**

Hours seemed to pass. It was nearly dawn when she touched his face with her ghostly fingers. Instead of feeling fear and horror, Cas felt a sense of calm and happiness. Looking into Rebecca's sea green eyes, he was lost in their beauty. She was tall, blond, and beautiful, and for the first time in his life, Cas wanted to know someone intimately. Even though he was also tall, with dark hair, ice blue eyes, and a classical profile, he'd stayed away from any serious relationships while in college. He was studious, serious, and solitary. Even though he came from a warm and friendly family, he was always one step removed, as if he were waiting for something to happen in his life that made it worth living.

Her voice, low and sultry, played inside his head. "I am Rebecca Turner."

"Uh. Cas van Keerder."

A smile formed. "That is our original last name. Van Keerder. My father changed it to trick our tenants into thinking he was as progressive as President Jackson and his vice president Maarten Van Buren. Little Van was from Kinderhook, not far from here."

"Cool," replied Cas, still in disbelief over the otherworldly conversation he was having.

"Why is it cold that the president was from around here?" Rebecca's face grew prettily puzzled.

Cas laughed softly. "I'm sorry, it's just an expression of this day and age. It means that what you said was interesting."

Rebecca frowned uncertainly and then her voice in his head said, "Cool."

"Rebecca, what happened to you?" Cas asked gently.

She floated through the room, and he once again experienced the double vision. She stopped by an easel where a painting of two otters playing was exhibited. She touched the otters and he thought he saw tears in her eyes.

"That's beautiful. Did you paint it?"

"You can see it? I thought only those like me can see the spirit world."

"I can see it. Two otters playing along the river bank. Down by the lagoon."

The ghost nodded. "In my day it was merely an inlet fed by the river, but as the years have passed, it has become almost a separate body of water."

Cas and Rebecca spent the next hour or so chatting and in an odd way getting to know each other even with the 175-year divide between them. They laughed and joked as youth always did, despite the years and their differences. Cas had never felt so comfortable with anyone. Rebecca asked about his television and computer, and he showed her the modern age. She in turn took him to the window and with his unique double-vision, she conjured up the estate of the past.

He never asked her how she became a ghost, nor did she tell him that, or how her mother haunted the manor and yet was unable to connect with her spirit daughter.

Suddenly, near dawn, she heard Nathaniel's spirit shouting and pounding outside her chamber door. She quickly hushed Cas. "He can't come in here, and he can't tell if anyone is in here with me. Sometimes..."

Nathaniel then screamed. "You leave me no choice! I'll punish her if you do not come to me!"

Rebecca responded in a deadly calm, but loud, voice. "If you touch her again, I'll never come out!"

The pounding continued, somewhat louder. "Come out of there, girl, or I'll make life even less pleasant for everyone who steps foot on this land, including your precious Otha-spirit and those disgusting cats!"

Rebecca turned to Cas and whispered, "I'll be back tomorrow night. You are safe during the day to go anywhere in this house, but at night, please, stay in here from sundown until sunrise. I promise to come back."

"Will you tell me your story then, Rebecca?"

She nodded and then she was gone. Cas strained his ears and thought he heard a sinister laugh and Rebecca's cool voice say, "I'm here. Now let her go. Let them all go."

**

You doubt me? It is all true. I bore witness to it all. I even left the safety of the cottage, so taken was I with Cas' audacity and Rebecca's courage, he for daring to fall in love with a haunt, and she for defying Nathaniel, even beyond the grave.

**

Cas went down to Sleepy Hollow and found the archives about Otterbont. While the Turner and Van Keerder families were not as prominent as the Livingstons or some of the other Dutch families in the area, they still had considerable clout. Cas learned that his own branch of the family, a cadet branch that kept their Dutch identity, had given up the patroon system early in the 1820s well before the laws changed. Anders Erik, Nathaniel's younger brother, had married a Livingston and was proud to associate with the new democratic ideals of the new country. He tried to convince his brother that he was wrong to hold onto the past so tightly. The ill-fated Anders was from this family. Newspapers had a field day when Nathaniel had the boy whipped, despite the pleas of his daughter, and thrown into the Hudson. Anonymous tenants, too afraid to identify themselves for fear of Nathaniel's wrath, whispered into diaries and to journalists that Nathaniel had Anders killed and had dismembered the body.

Then Cas found Rebecca van Tassel's diary, his own spirit girl's fragile mother.

"Nathaniel is thrilled with our daughter. She is such a bright and pretty five year old. I see the way he looks at her and I am sore afraid he means to be more than a father to her. I found him a fortnight since in her chambers, the rooms across from our own, and he was seated on her bed. When I entered the rooms he seemed startled and flushed. My darling little girl was curled up and asleep, but her father's face made me fearful of what he intends.

I have written to Anders Erik. He knows Nathaniel, and I pray he will keep him from finding me when I flee with the child..."

The journal went on for a bit, becoming a startling recollection of a mother trying to save her child from a predatory father. The final entry was heartbreaking.

"Anders Erik will not help. He says a wife belongs with her husband. I have spent the past weeks instilling an air of defiance in my girl. She is a strong one - in that she takes after her father. I heard her defy him just yesterday as he coaxed her to sit on his lap. She ran from the house and down to her private lagoon. I have done everything I could, and yet I fear even my magic will not free her. Her rooms are now safe. He cannot enter and as long as she abides there, he cannot touch her. I will put one more spell on that which she cherishes the most, and then explain everything to her, in case something should befall me.

I will try to flee with her tonight, nonetheless. A girl needs her mother."

Cas re-read the entry. The older Rebecca had spoken of magic. He recalled that the Pennsylvania Dutch had hexes, but then they weren't from the Netherlands, but Germany.

He continued to read as many articles and journals as he could, and they soon created a grim picture of life on the Otterbont estates. Logs indicated the amount of tithing as crippling, guaranteeing that no one could buy off Nathaniel's indenture. Even in lean years, as in the Depression of 1837, Nathaniel insisted on his full share. When several of his tenants protested he evicted them, and consolidated their lands into his and forced his workers to do double duty. When those protests become violent, he forced the local constabulary to arrest the perpetrators and as magistrate, publically condemned them and ordered them hanged. He had their wives placed in the stocks and once they were released banished them from Otterbont, without any of their possessions.

One of the widows, taken in by a distant relative in Sleepy Hollow, wrote, "Were it not for young Miss Rebecca, we would be completely destitute. Defying her father, she strode into our home, and began removing our personal belongings and clothing. She ordered her father's men to pack them and ship them to us. They obeyed, since she was in a fey state, surrounded by her great dog, more than 100 pounds of sheer muscle. He only obeys her. Next to the dog were several foxes and what one man swore was a wolf. Otters and other water creatures stood and stared at the men until they felt compelled to do Rebecca's bidding. She repeated these actions at the houses of the other men as well.

Nathaniel tried to intervene and drag her away, but the dog stepped before her and growled until he departed. My mother told her to come away with her, since going back to Nathaniel would be her doom. Rebecca answered with a smile. "If I am not there, it will be even worse than it is now..."

I cannot ever forget the night I returned to the Turner manor, bent on revenge for my husband, whom he had hanged the day before. So intent was I in doling out my own sense of justice, I never heard-

The rest of the manuscript had been torn away.

Cas left an hour before closing, stopped, and bought some fast food. At sundown, as per Rebecca's request, he locked himself in his rooms. He saw the caretaker, Anders, go into the cottage and the lights in that small stone building lit up the night with warmth and friendliness. His own manor house stood dark and dank, needing years of labor to bring it back to its glory, but the lights from his rooms - a sitting room, a bedroom and a closet that had been turned into a modern bathroom - streamed out over the lawn and gave the place a semblance of normality if viewed from the river.

He heard the shouts, the howls of the ghost dog, and the sounds of cats and other animals break the silence of the night. Nathaniel was obviously livid and by his words was trying to locate Rebecca.

Then he heard the music from below his rooms. He'd always wondered what that room, with the windows and the bare spaces, had once been used for. Now he knew it was a music room. He heard the haunting opening chords of Beethoven's Mondscheinsonate abruptly stop and then Rebecca's laughter. Nathaniel tried to stop her, but then she was in her rooms with him, the chords still haunting and fading, while her father stood outside the door and howled.

She ignored him and came to sit next to Cas on the small love seat. The room took on its dual-view again, so that the otter painting he had marveled over the other night stood next to the computer desk.

"I visited the library today,"Cas revealed to her, looking into her eyes. "Did you ever get to go to one?"

Rebecca smiled and her hand gently covered his on the bed. Her skin felt warm and soft and alive. "Father did not really let me go anywhere. Occasionally into town but more for business rather than leisure."

The man nodded. "Well, I went to the archives section and..." He saw her puzzled expression and chuckled. "Sorry. I guess they weren't really archives back in your day. Anyway, they have a whole area in the library that keeps historical documents, papers, news articles and the like. I found something really neat. It was a diary written by your mother."

Rebecca looked curious and leaned closer to him. "Tell me?"

Cas grinned and brought his other hand up to hold hers. "She loved you very much." Then he frowned. "She was worried about you from the time you were a little girl. Nathaniel, I think, wanted you in a way that would suggest you weren't his daughter, if you get my meaning."

Rebecca pursed her lips and nodded. "I always knew that."

"Well, your mother wanted Anders Erik, his brother, to help her escape with you, but he refused. So she brought it on herself to look after you and make you stronger..." Cas's brow furrowed and then he added uneasily. "Um...did your mother know magic? Because she talked about that in her diary too. She said she put some kind of protection spell on the rooms...so that your father couldn't come in."

The ghost's lips trembled and her face fell slowly. "I never knew..." She looked up at Cas again. "What else did she write?"

Cas thought about the last entry in the diary. I will try to flee with her tonight, nonetheless. A girl needs her mother. "She was going to leave Otterbont with you. But...I...I think your father did something to her, didn't she?"

Rebecca nodded and her once bright eyes filled with lighted tears. "Thank you, mother..." she whispered softly, and the lights in the bedroom flickered on and off three times.

Cas looked around the room as the flickering ceased and then smiled again, taking her hand. "I think she said you're welcome. And, if your mother will allow me..."

Gently, he reached out to touch her, and discovered that the dual reality made her appear in solid flesh to him. She looked so very happy, and when he leaned in to kiss her, she returned his kiss with fervor and it felt warm and moist and not cold at all, as he may have expected. They pulled apart after the amorous affections and their serious faces broke into sheepish smiles.

"I...I never thought I'd be kissed..." Rebecca sighed. "And to have it be you....I am so happy." She fairly glowed and seemed so solid and there with him.

Cas grinned at her. "I've been waiting all my life to meet a girl like you. Wouldn't you know it, she'd have to be a spirit. I don't suppose there's a way to un-spirit you." He laughed, and then stopped, seeing the expression on her face. "What is it?"

Before she could answer, Nathaniel returned outside the room and began to pound on the door, renewing his threat of harm and misery. Rebecca rose to leave and Cas rose with her. "Can you come back?"

"Tomorrow, at twilight, be at the lagoon." She kissed him fleetingly and her ghostly fingers brushed his mouth and through his hair. Then she was gone.

**

I tell you, it all happened. God's truth. You need to buy this place, for it to be safe for them.

I see by your expression that are not convinced. You really want me to tell you the rest of the story. You will not be satisfied until you touch and feel it for yourself, will you?

Seriously, you need to learn a bit of trust. You want a drink or three? This is where it gets...difficult.

**

Cas kept busy the following day scouting all the corners of the house. He had the caretaker searching too. He didn't know what they were seeking but he somehow knew that once he found it, he'd have the solution.

All day from just after dawn until it was nearly dusk, he searched, and finally in a distant attic, underneath several ancient boxes, was a trunk. The trunk had the initials "RT" engraved on it, and when Cas opened the lid he found it filled with gowns from a time long gone. Carefully preserved in paper, even though much of the silk was shattered, he could tell that they were costly and elegant. Obviously between the books, the piano, the gowns, and even the art lessons, Nathaniel rarely denied his daughter anything - except her freedom.

At the bottom of the trunk lay a rolled up canvas. Instinctively Cas knew that this was what he was looking for and hurried to his rooms. He dropped the canvas onto his bed and carefully closed the door behind him. Then he rushed down to the lagoon where Rebecca was waiting for him.

They embraced and sat together as the river otters danced and played in the waters and on the land. Even the ghostly dog frolicked with the happy pair and the two young lovers, separated by time and death, found momentary peace and harmony in their tryst.

Cas was about to confide in Rebecca about the painting he had found when she sighed and looked at him mournfully. "You wanted to know my fate. Once a month, we are doomed to recreate it. He won't see you if you follow and do not interfere. Just remember that it's already happened. I'll find you after."

Suddenly, the grounds were alight with a brilliant, shining full moon. Tall, whippet-thin Nathaniel strode down the lawns to the private pool. Cas' double vision was subsumed into the events of the past, and it was as if he were the ghost and the father and daughter were the ones alive.

"I told you to stay away from here!" Nathaniel shouted.

Rebecca stood and defiantly answered. "It's my place. I'll come here as often as I like."

The dog tried to intervene but the man kicked him to the side, where he fell against a rock and was cut. He growled and tried to protect his mistress, but the pain was too much. The other animals tried to help, as the otters attempted to trip the man and make him fall.

Rebecca, fearful that they would be hurt, called them off and Nathaniel laughed. "That's how to control you. Threaten that which you love."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the house. Cas followed unseen, filled with wonder.

"Rebecca!" Nathaniel continued shouting at the sky. "You failed! I have her and nothing your witchcraft did can save her! I even hid the painting, so she cannot change! She cannot invoke your heritage!"

"What...what are you talking about?!" Rebecca was streaming tears by this time.

"You really think your mother left us? Why, she's been here right along." Nathaniel cackled like a demon and the girl broke free, trying to reach her room. Her father chased her and grabbed her again before she could enter her sanctuary. As she broke from him she tripped and fell down the stairs, striking the marble landing below.

Horrified, Nathaniel ran to her and even then, as she was drawing her last breaths he cursed her. "You'll never leave me. Not until someone finds the painting and is willing to make the change with you. I know what spell you were weaving. Probably for you and Anders Cas, but he's dead already and beyond even your skills."

Rebecca, hearing these words and knowing that her life blood was taking her away, said with her last breath, "Someday...I'll find him...and when he comes, he'll change with me, and we shall defeat you into the hell where you...belong. I may be your prisoner even beyond death, but you'll have no joy of it or me."

Then Rebecca's body disappeared and Nathaniel was seated in a great chair alone in his courtyard. Quarter day was over, and he'd been enriched yet again. He'd had the deep satisfaction of ordering several families out of their homes, and had a man arrested to be hanged the next day. Yet he was not content. Throughout the day, he kept seeing the great otterhound flitting at the back of the crowd. He could have sworn he'd seen the other animals with him as well.

He'd ordered the servants to leave him and he sat and waited. She would come now that it was night. She could no longer hide in her rooms, and he needed her. Even if for three long years she'd done nothing but defy him and treat him scornfully.

She came. The great hound ran to her side and she embraced him, knowing that he too was of the spirit world and another protector. The river otters, several of the cats, and even the she-wolf she'd saved all surrounded her. Then Anders came. They were all there when a strange woman arrived, and stood before him. She held a sword in her hand, given to her by her father who had borne it in the battle of New Orleans under their beloved Andrew Jackson.

"Turner," she growled. "You are a disgrace to your name, your ancestors and even the president whom you resemble. I hereby adjudge you and sentence you to death."

Before the widow could run him through, Nathaniel rose and pulled open his shirt. "Do it. Now. I am ready to join her."

Out of the woods, unseen, a bullet whirled past the widow's head and lodged in Nathaniel's chest. He fell back into his chair and bled to death, under the wrathful gaze of his daughter and the widow. His servants found him the next morning and his murder was a nine-days wonder. And for nearly 175 years, he'd been tormented by his ghostly daughter and tormented her in turn. Sometimes his nephew Anders Cas joined the fun, and there was always the vengeful ghost of his wife as well.

It was no wonder with all these conflicting spirits that no one was able to live in the main manor house for long. Only the cottage, and that usually was occupied by the caretaker.

**

Yes, I am the caretaker, and this cottage is usually my home unless the Van Keerder's have rented out the house again. Cas thought to ready it and turn it over to the trust to preserve it, but that goes against the will and trust that was made, so then he wanted to fix it for himself.

What happened next?

Sure, I will tell you. Would you care for some refreshments? I always find that story-telling, even twice told tales, is thirsty work. My son always tries to come by for one on the full moon. Which happens to be tonight. And it is going to be different than it has been for a long, long time.

**

Cas waited in her rooms. He sat down on the bed and carefully unrolled the canvas, trying not to chip the oils. He'd taken a preservation class at university and had gotten used to unrolling canvases in the opposite direction. He managed to undo it and discovered that the oil painting of the otters at play was as vibrant and breathtaking as it had appeared to him in his dual vision.

After what seemed an interminable time, Rebecca came through the door. She was happy to see him and they spent a satisfactory time kissing and fondling each other.

"Is everything all right?" Cas asked. "That was intense."

The ghost looked at him curiously. "I do not see any tents here."

"No, I mean in-tense. Meaning serious."

"Oh." She waved a glowing hand in dismissal. "It always is. I'm sorry to say, however, that I get an immense satisfaction at watching that bullet take out my father and put a period to his cruel life."

"Well, yeah, but you're still stuck with him, right?"

She sighed. "Someday I'll find someone to change with me, and we can go off together." She paused. "Anders would do it, but he's already a ghost and we were not in love."

Cas looked shocked. "Anders? The caretaker?"

She giggled, an odd sound for a ghost. "No silly, my cousin. He's another one of us. I suspect that once I am free, then mother and Anders can move on too. That will leave only Nathaniel, and the other one." She added evasively, "and Nathaniel won't have the same abilities with the other one that he has with me."

Part of Cas was surprised at how calmly he was taking everything. They spent a bit more time kissing before he realized he had something to show her. "Here, look what I found today."

When Rebecca saw the painting, she was galvanized and actually started glowing brighter, nearly blinding. "Oh Cas, you are my salvation!"

Cas looked startled, squinting through the glare. "I thought you might like to see it again. You worked so hard on it, and I imagine you were happiest around your animals."

Rebecca was laughing, clapping her hands and trembling all over. "I can change now! It won't be perfect, not without a partner, but at least I'll be free of this house for good!"

"Wh-what are you talking about? What change?"

The ghostly girl finally settled down and sat back down on the bed next to him. "My mother. The last spell. She told me-"

"Oh!" Cas' eyes widened. "That's right! I forgot all about that. Ugh, Derpy alert."

Rebecca's eyes crinkled. "Derpy...?"

"From My Little Pony, Derpy Hooves, nevermind. Your mother said she put a spell on something you loved most of all." He glanced at the unrolled painting on the bed. "This was it, wasn't it?"

Rebecca grinned. "It is. My mother loved animals as much as I did. Before she was killed, she placed a spell on my painting that allowed me to temporarily change into any creature I wanted, so I could escape from my father and cavort with the other animals. She was very gifted, my mother. But it only worked until sundown. At night, she feared for my safety in the woods, or at the lagoon, and insisted I was safer in the home with Father. So I would become human again as soon as the last of the sun set."

Cas nodded. "So that was what your father was going on about. The change. You couldn't change into your animal form because he took the painting away."

Rebecca replied, "Yes, Cas. Precisely. But now I can." She placed her hand over his and kissed him softly on the mouth. "And I don't have to come back at sundown, if I find someone willing to stay with me and keep me safe in the bonds of love. Once I find him...I never have to return to the house or my father again."

The man smiled gently. "I should have known this would have a Disney slant to it someplace." He was surprised when she giggled. "Oh, that you understood?"

Rebecca started laughing more. "Oh, silly Cas. Everyone knows about Walt Disney. Alive or dead."

They lay together until dawn, caressing and kissing one another. When it was time for Rebecca to leave, she told him excitedly, "I will try changing today. I think maybe I will become a wolf, or a deer, or a cat, or maybe a river otter, since that is my favorite. I love swimming so much."

Cas looked sheepishly at her, still holding her hand. "I like to swim too. Maybe...you might like some company?"

Rebecca giggled softly and kissed him again. "I would love that. Come into the water whenever you can. I'll happily swim with you." She gently kissed Cas good-bye and faded off to wherever spirits go when they aren't haunting or having affairs with handsome young men.

**

Cas spent his days swimming with Rebecca in the lagoon. The river otter took great delight in gliding across Cas' nude form at every opportunity, and even plunged underwater every so often to nuzzle and lick at his hardness until he was fully engorged. In time, when he could no longer contain his orgasms, she eagerly wrapped her webbed paws around his length and let him empty into the lagoon in bursts of pleasure.

On shore, she would shift back to her human form and become solid, and lay with him in the tall grass, and let him make love to her. At night, just before sundown, she would say goodbye to him, warn him to stay in his own room, and fade away.

**

One morning, Cas went into Sleepy Hollow. He went to his favorite coffee shop. He wrote emails and letters to all his family and friends. He sent a letter to his attorney. Since he had been an only child, and his parents were gone, he only had a cousin - whom I presume to be one of you, if I am not mistaken? I thought so. Oh, you're newlyweds then! Congratulations, I thought you two seemed very happy together. I can feel the love between you both, and it's strong. You remind me so much of Cas and Rebecca now...

**

One day, just before dusk, Rebecca came to the lagoon and Cas was waiting for her. In the twilight, she saw the great otterhound resting and the ghosts of otters and kittens, cats and puppies clambered all over him. Real cats surrounded the pool, their eyes glowing in the moonlight. The moon was still almost full and it shone in their bright eyes.

"What are you doing here, Cas?" Rebecca asked as they kissed. "It is nearly sundown. And the full moon is nigh, remember? I am doomed to-"

He turned with a smile. "You're not doomed to anything. Not anymore. I want to change with you. I love you, Rebecca. I can't stand the idea of you having to hide all the time, or every full moon, having to go through this horrific memory. You need to be free of him forever."

She touched his face. "Do you have any idea what that means?"

He looked deeply into her eyes. "Does it matter? We'll be together for always."

"If you are certain..."

"I am. We are meant for each other, no matter what our forms, and Nathaniel can't ever haunt us." He smiled and touched her face. She became firm beneath his hand and moved in towards him.

They embraced in a long kiss, and even as they did, Cas saw that another ghost, a tall man who looked remarkably like Rebecca, stood guard as Nathaniel returned to the lagoon and tried to get past the otterhound and the other animals. Rebecca's mother laughed and as she did she vanished, finally free to go to her own reward. Anders Cas smiled at his cousin and his brother's very distant descendant and bowed his head in benediction.

As they changed, their human forms morphed into long, slender bodies with long, thick, tapering tails and webbed feet. Their heads were broad and flat with a short neck, legs and with rich, glossy, dark brown fur. Only their eyes stayed the same - Rebecca's sea greens and Cas' deep icy blues. Then Anders Cas disappeared as well.

Nathaniel howled in rage and his ghostly voice ricocheted up and down the river. Folks in distant towns heard his cries of anguish that his daughter had escaped him.

The otters ignored him and dove into the dark waters, escaping him forever.

As he ran towards the lagoon, intent on it becoming his new haunt so that he could torture her forever, the caretaker stopped him.

The heads of the otters were just above the water, watching the final denouement with keen interest. The last thing they wanted was for Nathaniel to invade their new home.

"Let me go." The ghostly patroon demanded in his most arrogant tones. He had cowed hundreds to his bidding with that voice and had no doubt it would still work to cower this caretaker. After all, what was he but a servant?

To his vast surprise, and utter dismay, the caretaker laughed. "You couldn't control me then, you certainly aren't going to now."

"Who...who are you?"

"What's the matter, Nathanial, don't you know your own brother?"

Nathanial's eyes went wide. "Anders Erik?! What...how!?"

"You are probably the least observant ghost I've ever seen. I've been caretaking here for 172 years and you've never wondered why? Or why I didn't age, or die or change?"

Nathaniel slumped in the iron grip of the caretaker. "I...I..."

"Being here, and unable to help Rebecca was my punishment, first for doing nothing and then for shooting you. The widow Van Tassel couldn't bring herself to slice you to ribbons." Anders Erik smiled. "But now? That's over. You and I though, we'll be together for a long, long time. You have much to repent, and more to learn."

The otters ran from the water and stood on their hind legs against Anders Erik. He touched their heads and watched with joy as they ran to the water and dove in, disappearing without a trace.

**

That was a month ago. Tonight is the full moon. With luck, the otters will come to the lawn and witness Nathaniel's next phase in the ongoing strain that is his afterlife. All the men he hanged, the families he ruined, and the lives he cost will begin to visit him, as they have regularly, and inflict their own punishments upon him.

Beg pardon? Well, that is certainly wonderful to hear. I am so glad you are both going to repair this house and stay here. I will help you however I can. Just do not venture to the lagoon, nor swim too long in its waters, and you should have much joy here. In time, perhaps, they will invite you.

Am I staying on as caretaker? Of course I am. Someone has to keep Nathaniel under control, and Cas and Rebecca have too much loving and living to do to undertake that task.

Oh, do not worry about me. A few bottles of wine and a place to sleep, and Nathaniel and I will stay out of your way.

END