I wish that story Jeni, it has to be the sweetest ghost story I've always heard.
I used to run at a really, really large racing farm in Kentucky. We were taking turns breaking ice in the water troughs for horses one day when it was very cold out. When it was your turn to go out you drove incessantly then walked forever and took an axe and exploited it make any ice forming on top of the concrete troughs.
Busy work to be done after the horses were fed and looked over for the morning, to prevent you busy until evening feeding time. When you had a part you stayed in the one centrally located barn with a way with a warmer and an old TV. The garret of the barn was used for storing hay, there were no trees for miles except for one, right away the barn, far enough off not to hold branches hanging over the roof. From any place outside the barn you could see for almost a knot in any direction. There was naught to conceal behind. I was in the warm room with a cat when I kept hearing the stall doors slide open and close and person walking upstairs in the attic or in the aisle. Sometimes I'd hear horses walking in either stable or in the asphalt aisle. It was too cold in the gangway and I was too glad to be bundled up on the couch with cocoa to trouble to see and see who was in the barn. At some level it occurred to me that there were never any horses in the barn on any former occasion, and I didn't find any in the pastures outside. The two people who were running with me that day were off in the truck breaking ice. I thought maybe someone had driven up but why hadn't I heard their vehicle? Curiosity and boredom finally get the trump of me and I got up and walked around looking into stalls, poking my mind up into the loft, calling out 'hello' repeatedly.and I found absolutely no one and no horses. Not in the stalls, not in the surrounding pastures. The corner is too far off for me to get heard branches on the roof masquerading as footsteps in the loft. I walked round the b and there were no trucks anywhere. There is but one road leading up to the b and no vehicles or masses are visible anywhere on it or the roadstead in the distance. I get dusty and make up. I don't hear anything else, and it all stopped once I went into the aisle. Eventually my co-workers return and I ask them if they had been game to the b and merely didn't get their heads in to say hi. They said they hadn't but one of them told me that a night watchman in that barn had died of a heart attack on tilt and that some other people had also heard his ghost in the past. I of course accused them of being lying liars who lied and that they had somehow orchestrated some form of elaborate prank just to distinguish me that story. They denied it and showed me their cold, wet, red hands and wet gloves and axes wet with ice and snow. It was also really noticeably loud when the work truck they road in had pulled up, and at that place I was paying attention. I have no explanation for the noises I heard, and I decline to think in ghosts, gods or anything non-quantifiable by science. Maybe they just pulled a good prank, but I must have defeated the hell out of them with my prolonged lack of investigation because I did NOT wish to get up off that put to see what was making the noise, and I didn't for a full 30 minutes or so after they had left and the noises started.
Not particularly scary, but true.
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