The Good, The Bad and The Ghostly ((Paranromal Western Romance))

by Keta Diablo

  "Colby." She took his hand between hers and raised it to her lips. "I know...I know you love me, or loved me, or whatever, but I’m not...well, I guess what I’m saying is, if I can get back to my life, my real life, I will. But I think I came here for a reason and that, my dear man, is what we have to find out. It really isn’t good for you to dwell on someone who’s dead. Maybe your wife will make you happy if you let her."

  No, that wasn’t going to happen. That much he already knew. How to explain how much he had loved Elizabeth, how he longed for her, to hold her again in his arms. Instead, he said, "All right. Let’s play it by ear. Cousin you are, then."

  Leading her down the hill to where his wife stood giving directions to his foreman, he held on to Lizzie’s hand, wishing always he was leading her into their house, to their bed. But that was no longer the case, and as he reached the bottom, he was met by the displeased look of his wife as she turned to him.

  "Sylvie, you’re home," he said.

  "Is there something the matter with your arm?"

  Her puzzled look stumped him, as did her question.

  "My arm? No, why? Do you mean I wasn’t here to help you unload your bags?"

  "No. I’m back early; I wouldn’t expect you to be here waiting when I drove in. But you seem to be dragging your arm out behind you."

  "Holy shit! I’m invisible!"

  "Elizabeth!" He turned back to reprimand her about her language.

  Sylvie gasped. "My. Name. Is. Sylvie. If you don’t mind. Your first wife is dead for nearly five years."

  "Ha!" Lizzie clapped her hands. "Well, I guess that takes care of explaining me and what I’m wearing!"

  "Lizzie just...." Colby’s voice trailed off as he realized things were about to get complicated. Very complicated.

  "That’s enough, Colby! I’ll see you inside!" Sylvie marched off, the slam of the door punctuating her resentment.

  "Guess it’s tough, boss," said the foreman coming up and hoisting down a last bag from the buggy. "I mean, I don’t mean to talk out of line, but, you know, she’s not quite...sorry, I really shouldn’t say."

  "That’s all right, Gus. I know what you mean. Here, I’ll take the bag and you see to her buggy if you don’t mind. And then, take a couple of the men and check for strays over at Crazy Woman Creek, would you? Looks like we might have a storm rolling in."

  "Crazy Woman Creek? Wow." Lizzie laughed. "You sure have some picturesque names out here!"

  Colby cleared his throat and tried to ignore her.

  Gus looked at him, a baffled expression fleeting across his whiskered face. "Sure thing, boss. I’ll put the rig away and have Jasper see to the horse, and we’ll head out."

  "Woooooooo." Lizzie spread her hands in the air and laughed. "I can see all sorts of benefits to this state of affairs."

  Colby waited for Gus and the rig to be out of earshot. "Maybe. Yes. And then again, maybe no." He picked up Sylvie’s bag and headed toward the house. "Look," he added, stopping short. "I have no idea how to work this. You seem to eat and drink—"

  "Yup, and I’m starved."

  "Lizzie. How am I going to feed you now? Where are you going to sleep?"

  "Well, I can move to that couch you’ve got in the corner of your bedroom—"

  "I don’t know if that is wise."

  "Well...ah...you mean, in case you want to take your husbandly rights?"

  "I...."

  "No problem. I’ll leave the room, or I’ll be asleep."

  "But it’s so uncomfortable."

  "Look, it was very kind of you to give me the bed last night but really, ghosts don’t feel that much."

  He had to laugh. "Guess I’ll be eating for two."

  * * *

  Thunder rolled and crackled around the house like some angry living being, moving overhead from one side to another. Lizzie hated thunderstorms but, now, her situation here was more consuming than any storm. She sat in the corner without speaking to Colby as per his instructions and watched the sad interaction between husband and wife, hoping she never married anyone she disliked or couldn’t get on with, within a year of the marriage.

  Sylvia was a very beautiful woman, tall, slender, with hair as black and shiny as a raven’s wings, and emerald eyes set in a fine bone structure with rosy white skin. But there was something about her Lizzie didn’t like; the wicked witch Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty suddenly came to mind and she giggled.

  Colby flinched and had to stop himself from turning toward her. Then he resumed his conversation with his wife.

  "I didn’t mean to call you Elizabeth. It’s.... I can’t explain it, Sylvie. You’ll have to trust me."

  "Trust you?" She turned on him, a cat ready to pounce. "Why should I trust you ever? You don’t care for me. You don’t care for me in the least!"

  "Of course, I care for you. I wouldn’t have...wouldn’t have married you if I hadn’t cared for you."

  "But you don’t love me the way you loved her."

  Lizzie could see Colby hesitate. "There are different kinds of love."

  "Oh! So you love me like a friend?"

  "No, no, of course not."

  "Then what?"

  Colby went to hang his hat on a peg by the door and sighed, his hand resting on the wall for a moment. "Elizabeth and I knew each other all our lives. I can’t replicate a love that grew over so many years, nor will I try."

  "You tell her, pal!" Lizzie couldn’t help herself, and in return, got an angry look from Colby.

  "Why do you keep looking in that corner? For heaven’s sake, what in tarnation is in that corner that is of such interest to you?" Sylvie stood waiting for a response, hands on hips. Then her eyes lit for a moment. "Is there something hidden there?"

  "No. Nothing. Sorry. I’m simply...tired, I guess."

  "Well, go lie down if you’re so tired. Your supper will be ready shortly."

  "I...I’m very hungry these days, after a week without your good cooking. Do you think...you might make a bit more?"

  Sylvie looked Colby in the eye. Lizzie could see a small smile curving her very full lips. "Of course, darling. I’ll throw on an extra steak for you." She started toward the sink.

  "Oh, shit. I hate red meat. No one eats red meat any more." Lizzie wrinkled her nose.

  "This is a ranch, for goodness sake." Colby’s mouth hung open at his own mistake.

  Sylvie stopped what she’d been doing at the sink. "Well! Of course, it’s a ranch, and there’s plenty of steak. I didn’t say there wasn’t, Colby."

  "Sorry." He looked suitably embarrassed. "Sorry." He faced Lizzie and moved his thumb to indicate they should go out the door, but when he opened it, Sylvie stared at him in anger.

  "I thought you were going to lie down?"

  "I need a breath of fresh air for a moment. I’ll be fine."

  She nodded and turned back to her supper preparations as he grabbed Lizzie by the shirt collar and yanked her out the door.

  "Listen," he started when they were outside. "You’re making this incredibly difficult for me. I know things are not right, are not good with my wife and me. But you’re going to make me look like a crazy man. She’s going to have her brother and a doctor and a raft of lawyers out here if she can prove I’m not in my right mind. Do you understand that?"

  Lizzie saw his expression, his sense of the trouble this horrid woman could cause, his fear things would not go well. "Yes. I’ll...I’ll try to behave. But, Colby," she whined somewhat, "It’s so tempting to play around with her. She’s such a bitch!"

  Colby gasped. "Lizzie! If you were alive I’d be washing your mouth out with—"

  "Yes, yes, I know: you’d be washing my mouth out with soap. Just try it, buster."

  The exchanged glances lasted about a minute, but for Colby, it obviously was a minute too long. He gathered her into his arms, his face leaning into hers slowly so she could pull back if she wanted, but desire welled up in her as he came close. Capturing her lips, he had no trouble letting the kiss ru
n deeper, as they had always done, she supposed. She let her hands run over his shoulders and down his back and up into that sandy brown hair, holding his face tight so the kiss might not end. And she felt it, not as a ghost, but as a passionate woman, as she had never felt a kiss from Jason or any man before. His tongue found its way into the cavern of her mouth and she met it with her own. But most of all, that kiss ran through her, like a river through mountains, knowing its way from its source into the depths of her soul.

  As he pulled back and looked into her eyes, she felt limp, jilted of his love because it could go no further than that.

  "Geesh." She exhaled, catching her breath. "What the hell are we going to do now?"

  Chapter Six

  "I have some business to see to in town today, so I’ll be gone for the day. Is there anything you need from the mercantile or other shops?"

  "I have a list, if you don’t mind. But I thought maybe I’d visit my brother when you next go in. Shall I join you?"

  "I...." Colby hesitated.

  "Tell her you don’t know how long you’ll be. You might have to stay overnight." Lizzie waited for the next mouthful of breakfast he would sneak to her when Sylvie wasn’t looking. It came in a flash but almost missed her mouth as Sylvie looked up again.

  "I, uh, I have to go on to the Forsters’ ranch, Sylvie. I promised them I’d stop in and look at a gelding they have for sale."

  "Oh. Well, couldn’t you come back through town and fetch me?"

  "I, uh...."

  "Colby, you seem very hesitant today. Very indecisive. I’m only asking to go into town with you. What is the matter?"

  "I can settle this." Lizzie held a bright tone to her voice, a voice only he could hear. She eased herself away from the table and went to his hat on the peg by the door. Lifting it down, she held it out in front of her and slowly walked back to the table and placed it on his head.

  Sylvie’s eyes grew large in terror. The scream she let out was more unearthly than anything Lizzie could muster. Sylvie pushed back her chair so quickly, it fell from under her as she rose in panic.

  "What in God’s name is going on here? That hat, your hat, just came across the room on its own and made its way to your head!" She stared wild-eyed at Colby, who met her gaze with calm.

  "Yes, I guess it did. Strange that."

  "Strange? Strange! You call that strange? Are you out of your mind? Colby! What is going on? Is there some sort of ghost here?"

  "Right first time, bitch!" Lizzie couldn’t help herself; fun was fun any way it came.

  Colby shook a warning hand at her but faced his wife. "I...think there might be. I’m not sure, of course, but strange things have been happening."

  "Well, geesh, that’s an understatement if ever I heard one." Lizzie took his hat back off and stomped over to the peg where she replaced it.

  Sylvie screamed like a banshee. "I want you to take me to my brother’s. I’m sure the boarding house has another room. I want to leave here until you have got a priest or minister or whatever and expelled that ghost!"

  "Get lost, bitch. I’ll stick around as long as I want. No holy man is going to get rid of me!"

  "Elizabeth, for heaven’s—"

  "It’s your wife? The ghost of your wife?"

  Colby hesitated. "I don’t know, Sylvie, I have no idea."

  "You’re lying. I can tell you’re lying. You harness the rig and take me into town this minute. I’m going to gather my things. And I won’t be coming back until this thing is expelled."

  "Hallelujah, hallelujah." Lizzie started singing away in her own version of Handel’s Messiah.

  And then she forked up her fill of scrambled eggs.

  * * *

  The ride into town was a solemn affair. Colby managed to get Lizzie settled in the back of a buckboard while Sylvie was packing up her things, and he didn’t hesitate to be stern with her in warnings about not playing around and spooking the horses or scaring Sylvie. Her pouting was better at the moment than her playfulness. Sylvie, on the other hand, sat there as if the horses couldn’t go fast enough, and constantly complained she was chilled. Any time Lizzie shifted to make herself more comfortable, Sylvie asked Colby if he’d heard something.

  "Sylvie, the ghost or whatever it is, is not going to hurt you." He gave the reins a snap on the last mile into town.

  "I am not living with a ghost in the house, and that is that. If you’re happy to live with one, then go ahead. Be my guest. I’ll be staying at Mrs. Fairweather’s until you have had it removed."

  "I’ll go when I’m good and ready, meanie." Lizzie gave the backrest a little shove but, apparently, amid all the bumps on the road, Sylvie didn’t feel it.

  Colby took in a long breath. One thing was certain; it would be easier to live with just one woman in the house, and he knew which he preferred. He thought he’d never been so happy to see town.

  Buffalo had almost recuperated from the schisms of the Johnson County War. Even some five years later, people went quiet if any stranger tried to bring up the subject; too many open wounds still oozed ill feelings. But for those who had been on the sidelines, like his own family, life went on, and Buffalo was bustling. Wagons and horses made their way through the muddy streets, the boardwalks were crowded with shoppers, and businesses were doing a booming trade. The Occidental Hotel was decked out for some occasion, and finely dressed guests were coming and going.

  Colby pulled up in front of the Fairweather Boarding House, a two story structure with wrap-around porch on which several guests sat on rockers in the afternoon sun—including Sylvie’s brother.

  She gave a peremptory wave, which brought her brother to his feet and down the steps to their buckboard in no time.

  "Elzy, this is...." Colby caught himself from automatically introducing Lizzie, who had moved to get a good look at the young man. "This is a bit of an inconvenience, I know," he continued. "But your sister insists there is a ghost in our house and won’t stay there for the moment."

  "I won’t stay until that thing is removed!"

  Elzy pulled at his long moustache and looked from one to the other. "A ghost? I heared about a lot of things in my time, but never a dang ghost. What ya gonna do, Sylvie?"

  "I’m going to get a room here and stay with you, brother dear, until that...that thing is removed, of course!"

  "I see." Elzy chewed a wad of his tobacco, bulging his cheek and ruminating on what his sister had said. "Hope you got the cash for sure as hell I don’t. Not until that...that money comes in."

  "I’ve given her the money." Colby came down from his seat and helped Sylvie to the boardwalk, before yanking down one of her bags from where it had been at Lizzie’s feet.

  Elzy spat a long stream of dark brown tobacco juice across the back of the buckboard just missing Lizzie.

  "Oh, how disgusting! Really? Chewing tobacco? Yuck!"

  Colby cleared his throat and rested his arm on the side of the wagon, jabbing Lizzie in the arm. "I’d appreciate it if you’d see your sister gets a room. I have errands to run, and we’ll—I mean, I’ll check back later to see she’s settled in."

  "Suits me." Elzy took the bags and led his sister up to the boarding house as Colby turned with a scowl to Lizzie.

  "Don’t start! Don’t start, Colby. I behaved myself the whole way into town on that frigging bumpy road without any cushion or anything. I’m moving up front."

  "I’m leaving the wagon here. We can walk to the telegrapher’s. Or do you think you should wait?"

  "I’m not waiting, and I can tell you right now I don’t like the look of that guy. What the hell kind of a name is Elzy anyway?"

  Colby snorted. "I have no idea—I think it’s short for Ellsworth—but that’s his name. Elzy. Elzy Lay."

  "Lay? Lay is his last name?"

  Colby gave a confirming nod of his head accompanied by a resistant smile.

  "How interesting! Elzy Lay and Easy Lay."

  "Lizzie...."

  "All right. But I don’t
trust that pair as far as you can throw them. Those two are up to no good, if you ask me. I can smell it a mile away. And, by the way, he reminds me of Jason."

  "Jason? You mean the man who beat you?"

  "Yes. He looks just like him except for the dumb hanging moustache and those garish clothes he’s got on. A bowler? Huh? That weirdo glitzy waistcoat and those plaid pants? You think that’s the clothes of a normal man?"

  Colby extended his hand to help her down from the wagon. "I think...I no longer know what the heck I think."

  "Hey, Colby," came a voice from behind him. "You talkin’ to yourself these days? Too long out there pushin’ cows?"

  Colby tapped his hat back a bit. "Howdy, Jack. How’re you doin’? I didn’t realize I was talking out loud."

  His friend guffawed. "Well, you must need a drink. I’m headed over to The Occidental; you know the cards are always good over there. Wanna come?"

  "Sorry, maybe another time. I got a whole bunch of errands I need to get through."

  "Sure thing." His friend touched the brim of his slouch hat and moved on.

  "Lord help me," sighed Colby, "this is not going to go well."

  * * *

  Lizzie tried to walk by Colby’s side as they made their way on the boardwalk to the telegrapher’s, but it turned into something of an obstacle course for her. Since oncoming pedestrians could not see her, it was left to her to avoid bumping into them and moving out of their way as she and Colby proceeded. Jumping off the walkway into the street was at times precarious and, after she landed in a pile of horse manure, and stood trying to scrape it off the delicate shoes she found herself wearing, Colby moved her to between him and the buildings.

  "This is where a gentleman should always have a lady as they walk," she noted smugly.

  "Yep. Now, how’re you going to get out of the way of folks?"

  And no sooner had he said that than she had to squash herself against a building wall to let a robust elderly couple pass by unhindered.

  At last, Colby nodded toward a small green door at the end of a block of businesses and pushed it open, a bell jingling overhead.

  "You have the address I gave you?"