Maybe Everett hadn’t been caught and punished for his crime. Maybe Callie sought justice before she could move on to the next world. That had to be it. There seemed to be no other explanation.
Shay crossed through the saloon and heard the low murmurs of the invisible men bellied up to the bar. The slapping down of cards and clinking of coins at the tables sounded clearer than ever. The sensation of walking through a crowded room was becoming more familiar, but it still sent chills rippling through her body.
Doris was at the front desk when Shay stepped into the old schoolhouse. “Good morning, Doris. Are you feeling better? Your husband told me you were down with a migraine the other day.”
“Yes, I’m much better. Thanks for asking, dear.”
“Do you still have that binder of newspapers under the counter? I haven’t finished my research, and I have some time to kill this morning.”
“Of course.” Doris pulled the binder up and flopped it onto the counter.
“Thank you.” Shay hauled it to the back room and began flipping through the pages from the point where she’d left off before, but skimming the headlines only. This time she wouldn’t read every column on each page. If a woman’s trip to Deadwood had made front-page news, surely a young woman’s murder would have. That’s what she’d look for.
An hour and a half later, there it was in black and white, confirming what she had suspected. The date read September 25, 1885.
GIRL MURDERED BY TRANSIENT COWBOY
In the early morning hours of September 24 Sheriff John Manning was summoned to the Buckhorn Saloon by owner/barkeep, Dean Averill, who informed him of two deaths that had occurred on the premises. According to Mr. Averill, Miss Callie Hayes, was strangled to death in one of the upper level rooms by a transient cowhand by the name of Everett Rawlins. Miss Hayes, aged twenty, had been employed as an entertainer at the Buckhorn. Mr. Rawlins was twenty-five years old, according to a birth record found amongst his belongings. He most recently worked at the Bar T Ranch, pursuant to foreman, Bernard Davies of the Bar T. Rawlins was found shot to death on the floor of the same upper-floor room.
When questioned by Sheriff Manning, Mr. Averill stated that another employee had heard people arguing. When Averill burst into the room to investigate, he discovered Rawlins accosting Miss Hayes. When Rawlins drew his gun, Averill shot in self-defense, thus ending Rawlins’ life with one bullet to the heart. Unfortunately, Averill was moments too late to save Miss Hayes, as the young woman was already deceased.
Hayes and Rawlins were buried in the Black View Cemetery.
Shay closed the binder, having learned nothing she didn’t already know or suspect, except that Everett Rawlins was definitely buried somewhere in the Black View Cemetery and Frank’s grandfather had killed him for attacking Callie. That news was not altogether surprising since Dean had owned the place.
Poor Callie. Hers was too young a life to have been snuffed out by some violent cowboy. If only Dean had barged into that room a few moments earlier. Maybe Callie would have survived to become and wife and mother and live a long life.
Shay wondered if Frank knew this story. Surely he did. It was significant enough to have been passed down through the family history. If so, why hadn’t Frank mentioned it yesterday? His mind was going, she reminded herself. He probably couldn’t remember what he’d had for breakfast that morning.
Returning the binder, Shay said goodbye to Doris and stepped into the sunshine, pleased to have confirmed a few things, while knowing there were just as many questions still left unanswered. As she walked back toward the Buckhorn, she heard someone yell her name. Waving her arm from inside a blue Buick was Opal, Frank Averill’s nurse. Shay waved back.
“Hold up,” Opal called. She whipped her car into the nearest parking space. The car seemed to groan when she lifted her bulk out and slammed the door.
“Morning,” Shay greeted. “Is it your day off?”
“No. I needed to run some errands and buy groceries, so a neighbor is keeping an eye on Frank.”
“Is he doing any better?”
Opal shook her head. “He has some good moments, but his mind comes and goes. Sometimes he remembers things from the past when he can’t even recall what he watched on TV an hour earlier. When you left the other day, he asked me to bring out a picture. It’s an old one of his daughter. He just about started crying when he looked at it. It killed me.”
“Oh, that’s sad. Colt mentioned she died years ago. Do you know the story?”
“No. Frank never talks about her, but what I wanted to tell you is that he asked if I thought you looked like her.”
Shay blinked, and the hairs on her neck stood on end. “That’s strange. He showed Colt and me a picture of his grandmother. Although I don’t agree, both of them think I look like her. We didn’t see the picture of his daughter. What’s your opinion? Do I look like the daughter?”
“I didn’t see much of a resemblance at first, but I’ve sneaked a peek a couple of times since, and I believe Frank’s memory is keener than we think. I can see why you remind him of her. He’s taken with you.”
“I remind him of his daughter?”
“Oh, yes. He’s looking forward to your next visit. You’re all he’s talked about. See what I mean about him remembering certain things?”
Shay smiled and hid the ache she felt in her chest. “That’s nice. Please tell him I’d love to visit again. I’ll try to stop by soon.”
“Okay.” Opal climbed back into her car and drove away.
Once she was out of sight, Shay bent at the waist, braced her hands on her knees, and dragged fresh air into her lungs. She’d never fainted or hyperventilated before, but there was always a first time for everything. She’d kept it together while talking to Opal, but now the ache in her chest turned to a deep, agonizing burn. She squeezed her eyes shut, hissing against the need to let tears flow.
It wasn’t enough that ghosts, and Colt, were messing with her life and her emotions. Now, a delusional old man believed she was his reincarnated grandmother or daughter. Enough was enough!
Twenty-Eight
Colt had barely been able to keep his mind on business throughout the day. Since leaving Shay last night, she’d been all he could think about. Thirty short minutes and he’d see her again.
After showering, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around his middle and slapped after-shave on his face. The reflection staring back at him was that of a contented man.
In the past few years, no woman had come close to touching his heart. He’d built a fortress around it; positive that there was no one out there he’d want to share the rest of his life with. And then Shay Brennan had showed up, walked into his life, and the walls holding up that fort had begun to crack.
It didn’t make sense to feel so connected to her after this short time, but it was as if they’d always been together and always would be. He felt as if they’d always known each other.
Colt slipped into jeans and buttoned a shirt. As he pulled on his boots, his gut began to spasm. Could he be falling in love with Shay? It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to be open to possibilities. Permission to feel something honest for a woman had been long in coming. It wasn’t a feeling he intended on taking for granted. Nothing had ever seemed more right since the day he’d asked Denise to marry him seventeen years ago.
He grabbed his keys and turned out the lights and locked the door. They hadn’t known each other long at all, but it didn’t matter what anyone thought. Love had pierced his heart, and he ached to tell Shay.
She was standing outside the Buckhorn leaning against the hitching rail when he pulled up.
“Don’t get out,” she called, meeting him at the truck and yanking the door open. Her long, shiny hair bounced on her shoulders, and she looked beautiful in a blue sundress. A soft white sweater was draped over her shoulders, and she held a small box wrapped in silver paper in her hand. After she slid onto the seat, Colt’s
chest tightened in response to being so near to her.
“You’re as pretty as a picture. This is going to sound corny, but you take my breath away.”
Shay smiled her appreciation and then her gaze traveled over him. “Thank you Colt. You look quite handsome yourself.”
He’d take the compliment and any others she wanted to throw his way. After leaving the way he did last night, he was glad to see she was smiling. He didn’t want to ruin things by trying to kiss her, so he refrained.
“I’m nervous,” she confided, once he’d left the town limits and they were tooling down the highway.
“Why? You met my family already.”
“For about ten minutes. I hope your brother won’t mind me tagging along.”
“Brady won’t care. He’s a laid-back guy. Mama wants to get to know you better. She thinks you’re the sweetest thing to come along since sugar, and Daddy keeps commenting on how pretty you are.”
The widening of Shay’s eyes reflected a flash of surprise, probably that he and his folks had been talking about her, but she recovered well.
“Your family all seemed really nice.”
She stared straight ahead, more closed-mouth than usual, and fidgety. Her fingers drummed softly on the box in her lap. They’d parted last night with some tension between them, but he was over that and hoped she was, too. He wondered if there was something else wrong, or if the events of the previous evening were still bothering her. Ghosts were the last thing he was interested in discussing, however, so he made mention of the box instead.
“I had no idea what to get your brother for his birthday, but I didn’t want to arrive empty-handed. It’s a bolo tie with a sterling silver and turquoise slide. Do you think he’ll like it?”
“He’ll love it, but you didn’t have to buy him anything.”
“I know, but I wanted to. If you’re invited to a party, you bring a gift. That’s how I was raised.”
“Well, he’s going to appreciate it.”
During the break in conversation, Colt pondered when the right time would be to tell her he was falling for her. The truck was definitely not the place. It would have to be later, after he’d driven her back home. He wanted to hold her in his arms and gaze into her sparkling eyes when he expressed his feelings. He felt like a teenager, the way he’d been rehearsing in his mind what he’d say.
“Are we going to the Double M Ranch?” she asked, peering out the window.
“No. The Double M is the family business. We’re going to the house I grew up in.”
“Oh.” Her slow smile reflected her pleasure. “So I get to see the room you slept in as a boy?”
“That’s possible.” The thought occurred to tease her about making out on his old twin bed, but considering her subdued mood, it didn’t seem appropriate.
“Does your room still look like it did when you lived there?”
“It functions as a guest room now, but Mama has kept all my football and basketball trophies and sports memorabilia on the shelves. I’ll warn you now. She’s probably going to drag everything down and show them off.”
“That’s okay. I won’t mind her telling stories about when you were a boy. You were a jock, huh?”
“You could say that.” He wondered about the types of men she’d been involved with before but wasn’t interested enough to ask.
A few miles out of town, he turned onto the paved road that led to the Morgan ranch. “About there,” he said, pressing on the gas.
Shay turned her body to face him. “I forgot to ask, did you go see Frank today?”
“No. I had a closing and a couple of showings. I ran out of time. My schedule might be less crowded tomorrow, so I’ll try to swing by there. Speaking of Frank, did you get to the historical society as you’d planned?”
“Yes!” Her demeanor grew animated, which pleased him. “I found a newspaper article that confirmed Callie’s death by strangulation. Everett Rawlins was the man who killed her. And get this. Dean Averill killed Rawlins.”
“Huh?” He didn’t want to talk about the Averills or that pesky dead girl in the saloon. But at least Shay had perked up, which set his mind more at ease. Maybe he hadn’t done anything to upset her after all.
“The article said Frank’s grandfather claimed it was self-defense. Rawlins was attacking Callie when Dean entered the room. When Rawlins pulled a gun, Dean shot him through the heart.”
Colt parked in the driveway in front of the two-story farmhouse with green shutters and a brick chimney on the side. “I never heard Frank mention that before,” he said, cutting off the motor. “I’ll have to ask him about it tomorrow.” He jumped out and sauntered to her side and opened her door. He tried to sound nonchalant when he said, “If you’re not busy, why don’t you plan to come with me? Now that Frank’s met you once, maybe he’ll feel more comfortable opening up. You might learn something new.”
“As a matter of fact, I saw Opal in town today. She said Frank would like me to come back.” She accepted Colt’s hand and stepped out of the truck. The touch of her hand sent electricity racing through his veins.
“You don’t say?” That was convenient, he thought. Thank you, Frank. “It’s a date then. Ready?” He kept hold of her hand and hoped she didn’t comment about calling tomorrow a date.
She took a deep breath and nodded.
“Oh, wait. Let me get Brady’s present.” He released her hand and leaned over the side of the truck and lifted out a box and fit it snugly under his arm. When he reached for her hand again, she wrapped both her hands around her gift. It was a subtle move, but the message came through loud and clear that she didn’t want to hold his hand.
They strolled up the walk in silence, where Hannah waited at the front door.
Twenty-Nine
“Come on in,” Hannah said, welcoming them into the foyer. She kissed Colt on the cheek and gave Shay a warm hug. “So glad you could join us, Shay.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
Chet sauntered into the hallway, followed by Brady and a woman with curly dark hair. “Hello again,” Chet said, offering his hand. Brady did the same and then introduced her to Dawn, his girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you,” Shay said. Dawn looked and acted a lot younger than Brady, popping chewing gum in her mouth.
“Same here,” the woman answered. “Hi ya, Colt.”
“How you doing, Dawn?” he rhetorically asked.
“Happy birthday,” Shay said, handing Brady her present.
His dark eyes lit up. “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Can’t have a birthday party without presents, can you?”
“Guess not.”
She and Colt exchanged smiles, and he shoved his box into Brady’s chest. “This one’s from me. Happy birthday, kid.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Let’s go into the dining room,” Hannah said, leading the way.
Shay gazed around at the home’s modest but comfortable furnishings as they moved through the living room into the dining area. “This house is very warm and inviting, Mrs. Morgan. I can tell it was a wonderful home for your sons to grow up in.”
Hannah turned and grinned. “Thank you, Shay.” She winked at Colt and chuckled. “I think this one’s a keeper.”
When he turned and gave Shay a wink of his own, her heart skipped a beat. Seemed she’d earned a point with Colt’s mother, but endearing Hannah to her would only make it more difficult to tell Colt they couldn’t see each other anymore. Her stomach was already twisting in knots, dreading the conversation to come later.
“Y’all can have a seat,” Hannah said. “Supper is ready to be served.”
“It smells delicious, Mrs. Morgan.”
“Every year Mama makes our favorite meal for our birthday,” Brady said, dropping her and Colt’s gifts beside two more presents setting on a buffet table.
“That’s sweet,” Shay replied, glancing at Colt and wondering what his favorite meal was.
&nbs
p; Dawn joined in. “Brady’s is barbecued ribs, biscuits with gravy, sweet corn, and baked apples with cinnamon and sugar. Have you ever heard of such a weird combination?” She elbowed him in the ribs and pulled out her own chair and took a seat at the dining table.
“It sounds delicious to me,” Shay said. “Of course, anything sounds good right now. I’m hungry.” She knew she was commenting more than necessary, but she tended to chatter when she was nervous.
“For such a petite thing, Shay likes to eat,” Colt announced, with a grin. “She’s not a nibbler.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Hannah replied, inching into the dining room with bowls of food balanced on her arms like a professional waitress. “Because my life revolves around food. I don’t feel needed if I’m not feeding people.”
“Let me help you.” Shay dashed over to take two teetering plates from the crooks of Hannah’s arms.
“Thanks, dear.” Hannah slid Dawn a look of displeasure. It was understated, but Shay noticed it. Dawn just sat there, not bothering to get up, cracking her gum. Hannah then counted out the dishes. “I’ll bring the pitcher of tea in and we’ll be ready to start.”
“I can get it,” Shay offered, starting for the kitchen.
“You’re my guest,” Hannah replied. “Please sit down. I’ll be one minute more.”
It was apparent that Hannah and Dawn were not close. Dawn hadn’t offered to lend a hand, and she continued to pop her gum at the table until Brady told her to dispose of it.
Colt pulled out a chair for Shay, which garnered snickers from both Brady and Dawn.
“What are you laughing at? Have you forgotten the manners Mama taught us?” Colt stared at his brother. His tone was light-hearted, but Shay sensed the comment was meant to remind Brady about the way they’d been raised.
Brady wasn’t that much younger than Colt, but her initial thought was that Colt seemed twice as mature.
“Maybe Dawn would like it if you pulled the chair out for her once in a while,” he told his brother.
“Yeah, maybe I would,” she agreed, smacking Brady’s arm.
A Haunted Twist of Fate Page 12