She sat me at a small table near the room’s back, inner wall. There were paper menus in a stand on the table, which, considering the restaurant’s limited selection, seemed a little odd.

A moment later my waitress appeared. She was a tall woman probably my age, with blond hair and a prominent nose.

“I’m Heidi,” she said. “Large or small?”

“Large.”

Not surprisingly, she didn’t write anything down. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have juice?”

“Apple, orange, and cranberry.”

“I’ll have some apple juice. Can you mix that with cranberry?”

“Absolutely. One cranapple.”

“And some ice water.”

“Of course.”

Before she walked away I asked, “Do you know if your hotel has any vacancies tonight?”

“No, but I’ll check.”

A minute later she returned with my juice. “Here you are. And I checked on our rooms. Unfortunately, we don’t have any vacancies. We only have four rooms.”

I frowned. I had been looking forward to staying there. “Do you know of someplace else nearby I could stay?”

She thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sure there’s a bed-and-breakfast about a half mile north of here. It’s called the Holly something. Holly Inn, I think.”

“Along the highway?”

She nodded. “If you keep heading north you won’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll check it out after I eat.”

My meal was brought out quickly—another benefit of a limited menu. The filet mignon was served with a lettuce wedge, homemade ranch dressing, and buttered Texas Toast.

“Is there anything else you need?” Heidi asked.

“No,” I said. “Are you always this busy?”

“Year round. The hotel is busy too. The rooms are nice.” An impish grin crossed her face. “Haunted, but nice.”

“Haunted?”

“Yes, but I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”

“How do you know they’re haunted? Have you ever seen a ghost?”

“No. But one of the other waitresses said she did.”

“And you believe her?”

“She’s never lied to me before. Besides, it’s not what she said, it’s how she said it. It happened in the middle of a busy Friday night. She was in the employee restroom behind the kitchen. While she was washing her hands she looked in the mirror. There was a woman dressed in eighteenth-century clothing standing right behind her. We all heard her scream.

“I went to see if she was all right and she was pale and shaking. She looked like she was going to faint. She quit on the spot. I ended up taking all her tables. She’s never set foot in here since.” She looked at me, studying my reaction. “Anyway, I better let you eat before your dinner gets cold. There’s more about the hotel on the back of the menu. Bon appétit.”