Eaton's Ghost, A Yellowstone Ghost Story
Author Bryn McCullough loves ghost stories and Yellowstone National Park is full of them. For her next
book, she heads to Yellowstone to research ghosts. Never did she expect to actually meet one.
After losing his wife, Eaton Westfield found solace and a new place to reinvent his life as a photographer
in the tourist town of West Yellowstone. On his expeditions into the Park, a ghost appears in his photos.
He tries to explain the unusual occurrence as a problem with lighting.
When Bryn and Eaton bump into each other, she is intrigued by the picture of the ghost woman in his
pictures. She’s shocked it looks so much like her. He doesn’t believe in ghosts and is determined to
prove her ghost theory wrong. They begin a journey of finding the truth. What they discover is a surprise
neither expects.
Eaton's Ghost is available in both ebook and paperback from Amazon.com
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Enjoy the First Chapter:
“My hell, would you look at this?” Eaton exclaimed as he stared into his Nikon camera.
Sarah put the light reflector down and looked up. “What’s going on?”
Eaton motioned to Sarah. “You’ve got to come see this. I took a picture of the hot springs, and there’s a woman’s face in my viewfinder.”
He looked back into his camera and frowned. Scanning the area surround Mammoth Hot Springs, he could see there was no woman with dark curls and expressive eyes. All he saw were thick pines and tourists, but none resembled the woman in his viewfinder.
“What?” Sarah scurried down the hill toward Eaton and reached for the camera. She stared into the viewfinder and shrugged when she looked back at Eaton. “I don’t see anything. Just the geyser.”
“Keep looking. Top right. Can’t miss her.”
Sarah bent over the tripod and peered into the camera again. “Don’t see anything unusual.”
He took the camera and looked into the viewfinder. The face was no longer there. “But…”
“You sure you haven’t been drinking?” Sarah teased. “Dreaming of beautiful women.”
“Real funny.” He shrugged. He’d seen that smile before and knew she was making good- hearted fun of him.
Ignoring her, he looked into the camera again, and then shook his head. “I really did see a woman’s face.”
“Sure. You always see a woman’s face, especially if she’s pretty.” Sarah laughed and went back to setting up the reflectors.
If this wasn’t such an important shoot with a pending deadline, he’d load up and rush back to West Yellowstone to his studio. He needed to pull the pictures up and figure out what he’d photographed that looked like a beautiful woman.
Shaking his head, he said, “Just go back to work. That’s what I’m paying you for.”
He smiled when he said the words. They’d been friends and associates long enough that they bantered back and forth, and it made working with her lots of fun.
He pointed his Nikon at Mammoth Hot Springs and took more shots from various angles. The sun was high, and it made the colors of rust and cream stand out. The Terrace Geyser was an awesome sight. He backed up to take a shot from farther away, gauging the direction of the sun and knelt down, angling his camera for a perfect picture.
“My God,” he muttered and looked up to make sure no one was standing in front of him because the woman’s face seemed to stare at him from the clouds in the October sky. All he saw was the huge geyser and elk meandering around the parking lot. Nothing resembled the woman’s face that kept appearing in his pictures.
His gaze took in the scenery and magnificent creatures, a common sight to see them wandering through the area. There were a few tourists, but this late in the year, the main season was over so he had clear shots of the various sights in Yellowstone. The October days were beautiful. Clear blue skies, crisp cool temperatures, and if he was lucky enough to catch a storm brewing, the heavy clouds were a sight to behold. He loved Yellowstone.
He looked back into his camera and shook his head. She was back! He stared at the woman with dark auburn curls. So beautiful. His breath caught at the expression on her face. It was as if she were daring him—about what, he didn’t know.
“Sarah!” He turned quickly, so fast he bumped into a young woman taking pictures on her own.
“Oh!” she cried, reaching out as her legs went out from under her. He grasped her hand and pulled, keeping her from falling down the steep slope.
Her emerald-colored eyes went wide in surprise as she clutched his arm. She had the curliest auburn hair he’d ever seen and a pretty enough face for a heavy girl.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
She pulled her hand out of his hold and, for an instant, he wanted to reach for her again. Her hand felt small and soft in his. He enjoyed the feel of it. When she bent down and rubbed down her leg, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of her jeans hugging her round bottom.
“Are you all right?” He asked.
“I’m fine. Sorry. Guess I got a little close. I heard you tell your girlfriend you’d seen a woman in your camera, but I didn’t see anyone.” Her words were clipped and matter of fact, but her voice was low and soft. “I was curious. I’m here researching ghosts in Yellowstone and couldn’t help but wander over to see what you were photographing.”
He shook his head. “No ghosts. Must have been something to do with the sun.” He gave her a disdaining look without correcting the misconception about Sarah. She was not his girlfriend. This woman didn’t need to know the difference. He was sure she was another desperate female who wanted to introduce herself and the ghost story was her excuse.
He was used to women fawning over him, and this woman was probably one of the many who were looking for an available guy. She was typical. Slightly heavy. Hair pulled back haphazardly. Seemed like most women on the prowl thought the ‘mussed up’ look was appealing. Not.
It was irritating the way they always had an excuse to interrupt what he was doing. Friends said he should be pleased, but it just interrupted his day. Wasted his time.
“Could I look?” She pointed to his camera.
He stared at her. He wasn’t used to anyone using his new Nikon, and he was reluctant to turn it over to a novice. “Ah, it was nothing,” he said quickly and turned away.
“Please.”
He stopped at the pleading voice and turned back to see a beseeching look. Something about the way her head cocked and her eyes went wide made him hesitate. “Eh, why not?” He handed the camera over to her. “You just…”
“I know. Mine is similar. See?” She held up a camera that looked like his and grinned.
“Oh.” Her comment surprised him. She didn’t look like the artist type. “You a photographer?”
“No. Just having fun taking pictures of things I like,” she said as she scanned through the last few photos, and then looked up. “They’re good. You’re right though, I don’t see anything unusual.”
She handed his camera back. “By the way, I’m Bryn.”
Here we go, he thought, already irritated she’d had the nerve to scroll through his pictures. “Eaton,” he mumbled and realized he was losing his light.
“Hi, Eaton.” She reached to shake his hand.
Couldn’t she just let it go? He hesitated before he shook hers, hoping it wouldn’t be interpreted as interest. He had pictures to take and didn’t need the chitchat. On top of that, he’d lost his light. He’d have to waste another day here instead of moving to the Lamar Valley.
“I have to say, your pictures are great.”
“I hope so.” His voice was cool. “I own Westfield Photography in West Yellowstone.”
“I know the studio. Love the pictures in your window.” She pushed at those outrageous curls and grinned.
“Ah, thanks,” he answered, still staring at her hair. He’d never been intrigued by anyone’s hair before, but in the fading light, the dark auburn framed her face, making her skin appear creamy. He’d love to photograph her.
“You sure you’re all right?” He glanced away before he tried to touch those curls and hoped by changing the subject she’d leave and let him get back to his work.
“Yep. Sure am.” Bryn picked up her notebook and waved as she sauntered off.
He breathed a sigh of relief, but he couldn’t help but watch her walk away, noticing the way her hips moved. Even though they were too big for his taste, he found himself staring. Something about her pulled at him. He shook his head and wrinkled his nose. Not my type. Not my type at all.
He knelt down to take more pictures, but the sun had gone behind the mountain, and he knew without good lighting, he’d never get the pictures he needed.
“Shall we call it a day?” He stood, called to Sarah and turned off his camera. “We’ll finish tomorrow.”
*****
Bryn sat on the partially crumbling rock wall and made some notes. Even though she hadn’t seen the ghost in Eaton’s photographs, she felt it was something she should research.
She glanced at the old rock building that seemed lonely and foreboding as the sun set low over the hill behind it. She shivered at the eerie feeling, one she’d experienced before, and knew she’d be spending more time here. Her so-called feelings were often laughed at, but they usually led to interesting stories.
She glanced up and watched the tall photographer pick up his camera equipment and say something to his girlfriend. At least, Bryn figured she was his girlfriend. They were pretty chummy and leaned together when they talked, like lovers do. They chuckled softly.
Bryn smiled at the sight. It had been a long time since she’d experienced those feelings, but as an author, she recognized the intimate, close connection between people.
Eaton walked with a swagger. It was obvious he was used to women hanging all over him. Admittedly, he was interesting looking with his rugged square jaw and chocolate brown eyes, but she shrugged off the thought. He wasn’t someone she wanted to get involved with. Too cool and arrogant. Too aloof and way too handsome. She just wanted to find out about the ghost he’d seen, and her intuition told her he’d seen something.
A cold chill passed over her. The sun had slipped behind the mountain and dark shadows lingered all around. The usually colorful geyser was now dark and grey. Something moved behind her, and she could hear the crunch of branches as animals foraged for food in the darkness. She knew elk were all around the Mammoth Hot Springs area and in the darkness, bears and wolves might also be making their way into the night.
Grabbing her bag, she stashed her notebook in it and hurried back to her car. She shivered, glancing uneasily around her. There was no one there, but every time she came back to the Mammoth Hot Springs area of the park, she experienced uneasiness, like someone watching her.
Shrugging off the feeling, she breathed a sigh of relief and slid into her seat. She locked her door and gazed into the shadows.
Something pulled her back to the old house and the tall pines surrounding it. She stared into the darkness, searching for movement, anything that would give her a clue to the ghostly feelings she was experiencing.
“Oh!” she cried out at the sound of knocking on her window. A man’s face peered through the glass. A stranger with wide eyes, eerily shadowed in the growing darkness.
He knocked again, louder than before. She hesitated before lowering the window about two inches.
“Yes?” She looked into a grizzled face and relaxed at the sight of his kind eyes.
“Uh, I saw you sitting here. Are you all right? Does your car start?”
Bryn breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You sure?”
Bryn nodded. She recognized the maintenance uniform from the gas station and realized he was probably getting off work. He kept wiping his fingers with a grease-stained tattered rag.
“Just checking, Ma’am. It’s pretty hard to get help this time of year if your car won’t start, what with the garage closing early.”
“Thank you.”
The old gentleman nodded and turned away.
Bryn watched him walk several steps before her gaze strayed back to the old rock building which she’d learned was the first headquarters building when the army arrived at Fort Yellowstone in the mid 1800’s. She’d heard it used to be a ranger’s house, and found herself wondering about the people who had stayed there.
Research, she mumbled to herself .That was what she’d spend her time doing the next couple of days.
Turning the key, she listened to the engine in her Ford Escape purr to life. Her stomach growled and she reached for a granola bar. It would have to do until she got back to West Yellowstone. Her thoughts moved away from the geyser and the old home and to the drive she still had ahead of her.
*****
“
* * * *
Enjoy the First Chapter:
“My hell, would you look at this?” Eaton exclaimed as he stared into his Nikon camera.
Sarah put the light reflector down and looked up. “What’s going on?”
Eaton motioned to Sarah. “You’ve got to come see this. I took a picture of the hot springs, and there’s a woman’s face in my viewfinder.”
He looked back into his camera and frowned. Scanning the area surround Mammoth Hot Springs, he could see there was no woman with dark curls and expressive eyes. All he saw were thick pines and tourists, but none resembled the woman in his viewfinder.
“What?” Sarah scurried down the hill toward Eaton and reached for the camera. She stared into the viewfinder and shrugged when she looked back at Eaton. “I don’t see anything. Just the geyser.”
“Keep looking. Top right. Can’t miss her.”
Sarah bent over the tripod and peered into the camera again. “Don’t see anything unusual.”
He took the camera and looked into the viewfinder. The face was no longer there. “But…”
“You sure you haven’t been drinking?” Sarah teased. “Dreaming of beautiful women.”
“Real funny.” He shrugged. He’d seen that smile before and knew she was making good- hearted fun of him.
Ignoring her, he looked into the camera again, and then shook his head. “I really did see a woman’s face.”
“Sure. You always see a woman’s face, especially if she’s pretty.” Sarah laughed and went back to setting up the reflectors.
If this wasn’t such an important shoot with a pending deadline, he’d load up and rush back to West Yellowstone to his studio. He needed to pull the pictures up and figure out what he’d photographed that looked like a beautiful woman.
Shaking his head, he said, “Just go back to work. That’s what I’m paying you for.”
He smiled when he said the words. They’d been friends and associates long enough that they bantered back and forth, and it made working with her lots of fun.
He pointed his Nikon at Mammoth Hot Springs and took more shots from various angles. The sun was high, and it made the colors of rust and cream stand out. The Terrace Geyser was an awesome sight. He backed up to take a shot from farther away, gauging the direction of the sun and knelt down, angling his camera for a perfect picture.
“My God,” he muttered and looked up to make sure no one was standing in front of him because the woman’s face seemed to stare at him from the clouds in the October sky. All he saw was the huge geyser and elk meandering around the parking lot. Nothing resembled the woman’s face that kept appearing in his pictures.
His gaze took in the scenery and magnificent creatures, a common sight to see them wandering through the area. There were a few tourists, but this late in the year, the main season was over so he had clear shots of the various sights in Yellowstone. The October days were beautiful. Clear blue skies, crisp cool temperatures, and if he was lucky enough to catch a storm brewing, the heavy clouds were a sight to behold. He loved Yellowstone.
He looked back into his camera and shook his head. She was back! He stared at the woman with dark auburn curls. So beautiful. His breath caught at the expression on her face. It was as if she were daring him—about what, he didn’t know.
“Sarah!” He turned quickly, so fast he bumped into a young woman taking pictures on her own.
“Oh!” she cried, reaching out as her legs went out from under her. He grasped her hand and pulled, keeping her from falling down the steep slope.
Her emerald-colored eyes went wide in surprise as she clutched his arm. She had the curliest auburn hair he’d ever seen and a pretty enough face for a heavy girl.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
She pulled her hand out of his hold and, for an instant, he wanted to reach for her again. Her hand felt small and soft in his. He enjoyed the feel of it. When she bent down and rubbed down her leg, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of her jeans hugging her round bottom.
“Are you all right?” He asked.
“I’m fine. Sorry. Guess I got a little close. I heard you tell your girlfriend you’d seen a woman in your camera, but I didn’t see anyone.” Her words were clipped and matter of fact, but her voice was low and soft. “I was curious. I’m here researching ghosts in Yellowstone and couldn’t help but wander over to see what you were photographing.”
He shook his head. “No ghosts. Must have been something to do with the sun.” He gave her a disdaining look without correcting the misconception about Sarah. She was not his girlfriend. This woman didn’t need to know the difference. He was sure she was another desperate female who wanted to introduce herself and the ghost story was her excuse.
He was used to women fawning over him, and this woman was probably one of the many who were looking for an available guy. She was typical. Slightly heavy. Hair pulled back haphazardly. Seemed like most women on the prowl thought the ‘mussed up’ look was appealing. Not.
It was irritating the way they always had an excuse to interrupt what he was doing. Friends said he should be pleased, but it just interrupted his day. Wasted his time.
“Could I look?” She pointed to his camera.
He stared at her. He wasn’t used to anyone using his new Nikon, and he was reluctant to turn it over to a novice. “Ah, it was nothing,” he said quickly and turned away.
“Please.”
He stopped at the pleading voice and turned back to see a beseeching look. Something about the way her head cocked and her eyes went wide made him hesitate. “Eh, why not?” He handed the camera over to her. “You just…”
“I know. Mine is similar. See?” She held up a camera that looked like his and grinned.
“Oh.” Her comment surprised him. She didn’t look like the artist type. “You a photographer?”
“No. Just having fun taking pictures of things I like,” she said as she scanned through the last few photos, and then looked up. “They’re good. You’re right though, I don’t see anything unusual.”
She handed his camera back. “By the way, I’m Bryn.”
Here we go, he thought, already irritated she’d had the nerve to scroll through his pictures. “Eaton,” he mumbled and realized he was losing his light.
“Hi, Eaton.” She reached to shake his hand.
Couldn’t she just let it go? He hesitated before he shook hers, hoping it wouldn’t be interpreted as interest. He had pictures to take and didn’t need the chitchat. On top of that, he’d lost his light. He’d have to waste another day here instead of moving to the Lamar Valley.
“I have to say, your pictures are great.”
“I hope so.” His voice was cool. “I own Westfield Photography in West Yellowstone.”
“I know the studio. Love the pictures in your window.” She pushed at those outrageous curls and grinned.
“Ah, thanks,” he answered, still staring at her hair. He’d never been intrigued by anyone’s hair before, but in the fading light, the dark auburn framed her face, making her skin appear creamy. He’d love to photograph her.
“You sure you’re all right?” He glanced away before he tried to touch those curls and hoped by changing the subject she’d leave and let him get back to his work.
“Yep. Sure am.” Bryn picked up her notebook and waved as she sauntered off.
He breathed a sigh of relief, but he couldn’t help but watch her walk away, noticing the way her hips moved. Even though they were too big for his taste, he found himself staring. Something about her pulled at him. He shook his head and wrinkled his nose. Not my type. Not my type at all.
He knelt down to take more pictures, but the sun had gone behind the mountain, and he knew without good lighting, he’d never get the pictures he needed.
“Shall we call it a day?” He stood, called to Sarah and turned off his camera. “We’ll finish tomorrow.”
*****
Bryn sat on the partially crumbling rock wall and made some notes. Even though she hadn’t seen the ghost in Eaton’s photographs, she felt it was something she should research.
She glanced at the old rock building that seemed lonely and foreboding as the sun set low over the hill behind it. She shivered at the eerie feeling, one she’d experienced before, and knew she’d be spending more time here. Her so-called feelings were often laughed at, but they usually led to interesting stories.
She glanced up and watched the tall photographer pick up his camera equipment and say something to his girlfriend. At least, Bryn figured she was his girlfriend. They were pretty chummy and leaned together when they talked, like lovers do. They chuckled softly.
Bryn smiled at the sight. It had been a long time since she’d experienced those feelings, but as an author, she recognized the intimate, close connection between people.
Eaton walked with a swagger. It was obvious he was used to women hanging all over him. Admittedly, he was interesting looking with his rugged square jaw and chocolate brown eyes, but she shrugged off the thought. He wasn’t someone she wanted to get involved with. Too cool and arrogant. Too aloof and way too handsome. She just wanted to find out about the ghost he’d seen, and her intuition told her he’d seen something.
A cold chill passed over her. The sun had slipped behind the mountain and dark shadows lingered all around. The usually colorful geyser was now dark and grey. Something moved behind her, and she could hear the crunch of branches as animals foraged for food in the darkness. She knew elk were all around the Mammoth Hot Springs area and in the darkness, bears and wolves might also be making their way into the night.
Grabbing her bag, she stashed her notebook in it and hurried back to her car. She shivered, glancing uneasily around her. There was no one there, but every time she came back to the Mammoth Hot Springs area of the park, she experienced uneasiness, like someone watching her.
Shrugging off the feeling, she breathed a sigh of relief and slid into her seat. She locked her door and gazed into the shadows.
Something pulled her back to the old house and the tall pines surrounding it. She stared into the darkness, searching for movement, anything that would give her a clue to the ghostly feelings she was experiencing.
“Oh!” she cried out at the sound of knocking on her window. A man’s face peered through the glass. A stranger with wide eyes, eerily shadowed in the growing darkness.
He knocked again, louder than before. She hesitated before lowering the window about two inches.
“Yes?” She looked into a grizzled face and relaxed at the sight of his kind eyes.
“Uh, I saw you sitting here. Are you all right? Does your car start?”
Bryn breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You sure?”
Bryn nodded. She recognized the maintenance uniform from the gas station and realized he was probably getting off work. He kept wiping his fingers with a grease-stained tattered rag.
“Just checking, Ma’am. It’s pretty hard to get help this time of year if your car won’t start, what with the garage closing early.”
“Thank you.”
The old gentleman nodded and turned away.
Bryn watched him walk several steps before her gaze strayed back to the old rock building which she’d learned was the first headquarters building when the army arrived at Fort Yellowstone in the mid 1800’s. She’d heard it used to be a ranger’s house, and found herself wondering about the people who had stayed there.
Research, she mumbled to herself .That was what she’d spend her time doing the next couple of days.
Turning the key, she listened to the engine in her Ford Escape purr to life. Her stomach growled and she reached for a granola bar. It would have to do until she got back to West Yellowstone. Her thoughts moved away from the geyser and the old home and to the drive she still had ahead of her.
*****
“