Volume Five
Chapter One
Long-Lost Love
(continued)
“Miss Lelanea?” Dodger asked, sitting beside her at a
respectable distance of a few cushions. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass
you.”
“No,” she whispered into the collar of her gown. “You’re
right. I do love him.”
“And he loved you.” Not a question. Dodger knew the truth of
it as he knew his own name. Why else would the spirit avoid her whenever
possible?
She lifted her red-rimmed eyes to his, seemingly asking him
how he could possibly know that.
“How could he not?” Dodger asked with a smile. “You’re quite
a woman. He’d be foolish not to fall in love with you. I reckon it might be a
hard thing for a fellow to avoid.”
“Thank you,” Lelanea said.
“I only speak the truth.”
“You know, you remind me of him from time to time. Don’t get
me wrong. You two are nothing alike, but there is something about you that
makes me think of him. Whenever I see you, when you’re near, it’s like I can
almost feel Wash in the room. Like I could just reach out and touch him.” She
laughed softly as she lowered her legs to the floor. “You probably think that’s
silly.”
“Not at all. I’m honored to know I remind you of him. I hear
he was quite a wonderful man. In fact, I hear it all the time. Over and over
and over.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dodger. I didn’t mean-”
“Dodger,” he said over her. “I’m just plain old Dodger to my
friends. I’d like to think we are friends.”
Lelanea smiled, just a bit. “We most certainly are, Dodger.
And I promise to talk to Ched and Uncle about this endless comparison between
you and Wash. It isn’t fair to make you feel like some sort of substitute.”
“I don’t mind. Really. He was part of your family, and you
folks all still have a fair bit of grieving to do. I just want you to know I’m
not here to replace him. I wouldn’t even dream of trying.”
“We know that. At least, I do.” She lowered her eyes,
looking to the hem of her gown as it fluttered over her delicate ankles. “It’s
just hard on us, because we never got to say goodbye. He was there one moment
and gone the next. Just gone.”
“I know what you mean.”
“There was no closure for us. None. We held a service, but
it was hard without a corpse to mourn over. Nothing to bury. No plot to visit
or urn to keep. And then-”
“What do you mean without a corpse?”
She looked back up, meeting his eyes with hers. “Didn’t you know?
Washington Boon’s body vanished.”
“Vanished?” Dodger asked. “You mean it was never found?”
“No, it was found. Then it was lost.”
“How?”
“I’m surprised Ched hasn’t told you all of this.”
“Not a word. ‘Course, I guess I never asked.” Dodger sensed
they were moving into uncomfortable territory for the young lady. “If you’d
rather not talk about it-”
“No, I don’t mind. I can tell it just as well as he can.
Probably better.” She drew a deep breath to steady herself, then began. “The
whole thing happened in a little town named Celina, just inside the Texas state borders. Boon
went in alone and unarmed to buy some supplies. Normally, he would take Ched,
but he said he needed some time alone. Well, that alone time cost him his life.
He was ambushed by thugs, and they beat him to death right there in the streets
of Celina.”
“Right out in the open?”
“Yes.”
“And no one saw it?”
“Are you kidding? Half the bloody town witnessed it, but no
one put up a fight for him. No one helped him. They were scared of Boon, but
even more so of anyone who would dare take the man on in a fight.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
“What I don’t understand is what he could’ve been thinking.
He shouldn’t have been there alone or unarmed. It’s like he was asking for
something like this to happen.”
“How does this end with the disappearance of his corpse?”
“Their pitiful excuse for a lawman came to the line to tell
us what happened. I rode into town with Ched to identify the remains. When we
arrived, the undertaker claimed someone broke into his studio and stole
Washington’s dead body.”
Dodger snarled in revulsion. “Who would do such a thing?”
“I don’t know. Uncle has many enemies, and as a result, so
did Boon. I don’t like to think about it too much.” She shuddered at the
thought. “There is no telling what happened to his corpse. It’s best not to
dwell on it.”
Dodger would rather not dwell on it, not just because he
hated to think about the death of the man, but also because the enemies of his
friend were also his enemies. In other words, the same men who jumped Boon were
liable to do the same to Dodger. God help ‘em if they did! Yet, something about
her descriptions of the events just didn’t add up in his mind. Something seemed
a little bit off.
Dodger cleared his throat and said, “I hate to seem
disrespectful, ma’am. But if none of you saw his remains, then, well, how are
you all so sure he’s passed on? The word of a town full of cowards is a fine
thing, I suppose, but …” He let his words trail off, allowing Lelanea to fill
in the blanks of his implications.
“Because I know he’s dead,” she said. “I can feel it, here.”
She laid her hand over her left breast, just above her aching heart.
It was best to never question female intuition. He nodded
instead, agreeing with her assessment of Boon’s mortal demise. It wasn’t as if
she was wrong. No. It was just … something he couldn’t put his finger on.
Lelanea lowered her gaze again before she added, “And I saw
him.”
“His body?” Dodger asked.
“His spirit.”
“When?”
“About a month after he passed away. When we came back empty handed, I took it really hard, but Uncle was so strong. He arranged a
small memorial service. He got us back on our delivery routes. It was even his
idea to keep Boon’s death a secret, so we wouldn’t open ourselves to attack.
But one night a few weeks later, he snapped and just went mad. He commanded
Ched to pull over, and he proceeded to throw everything he ever worked on with
Boon off the train. Then he set fire to the whole mess right there under the
stars.”
“Sounds terrible.”
“It was. Everything they had worked so hard on destroyed in
one act of angry remorse. Uncle loved Boon like a son. He really did. We all
loved him, in our own ways.”
“I can tell. He was a lucky man.”
“But to watch the remains of his life just go up in smoke
like that? It broke my heart. I begged him to stop, but Uncle was inconsolable.
He said it all had to go. Everything that reminded him of Boon had to be
destroyed. I think he was just mad at himself for letting Boon die.”
All at once, the image of Lelanea cradling the doc filled
Dodger’s mind, the pair brought to their knees by their shared grief before a
blazing bonfire of burning memories.
“Surely he knew it wasn’t his fault?” Dodger asked in a
whisper.
Lelanea ignored him as she pressed on with her story. “Uncle
went after Boon’s quarters, so he could burn the rest of it. I volunteered to
empty it instead, so I could at least rescue a few small things.” She motioned
to Boon’s guns slung about Dodger’s hips. “I thought I’d find those, but it
turned out Ched hid them from both of us when the burning started.”
“But you found something else.”
“I found him.” She turned her eyes to the distance, the
memories taking her attention as she described what she saw that fateful night.
“He was sitting on his bed—your bed now—staring out the window, watching us set
fire to his whole life. He was weeping. I could hear him crying. I could see
his tears in the firelight.” Lelanea glanced at Dodger. “You don’t understand
how powerful that was, because I had never seen the man shed a tear in all the
time I knew him. He was tenderhearted as a person could be, but he never wept
openly. Never.”
“Did he speak to you?”
“No. He didn’t. I was so shocked to see him there that I
gasped his name aloud. He must’ve heard me, because he turned to face me. His
eyes went wide, like he was just as surprised to see me, and, well, he
disappeared. Not a word. Not a smile. Just that look of sudden surprise, and I
haven’t seen him since.”
“But you feel him.”
She nodded.
“All the time,” Dodger said.
“Most of the time.”
“But especially around me?”
“I’m sorry. I know how it sounds.”
“No need to apologize for the way you feel.” No, there was
no need for the lady to apologize. Boon, on the other hand, had an awful lot to
explain.
“I can’t help but think there is something we can do for
him. Like he is trying to pass over, but we keep him tied here.” She lowered
her voice to add in a whisper, “I feel like I keep him tied here.”
“Would you?” Dodger asked. “Keep him tied here if he didn’t
want to be?”
“Of course not. I love him. I want him to be at peace. I
won’t be until he is. And … and I don’t think I can ever love anyone else,
knowing he is restless.”
Which was another thing Dodger expected to hear. Dodger
wanted to pry further, but between the effects of the medicine and the
overwhelming information he’d already gathered, he decided he’d had enough for
one night. He got to his feet, bidding Lelanea a good night. “I hate to leave
you on such a dour note, but it has gotten very late, and I’m about to
collapse.”
“Of course,” she said. “That dosage should’ve had you on
your back by now.”
It took all the gumption Dodger had to bite his tongue hard
enough to keep from commenting on that one. Literally. As he stood there smiling,
biting his tongue and not saying what was on his dirty mind, the copper tang of
blood slid down his throat.
“And after such a full day,” she continued, “you must be
exhausted listening to me prattle on like that.”
“Not at all. It was a pleasure, as always, to speak with
you.” What Dodger said next was the combined result of too much bravado, too
much melatonin, and not enough sleep. “In fact, I’d like a chance to talk to
you more. Over dinner sometime, perhaps?” Damn it! But in all honesty, he
would’ve had to bite his tongue in half to keep that one from slipping out.
Lelanea blinked in surprise. “I don’t know. Perhaps. I’ll
have to see when I’m free.”
Which was just as good as a ‘no’ in Dodger’s book. “Anytime.
Just let me know. I’d be glad to make you something special, if Feng will let
me near his kitchen.”
“You cook?”
“Sure. I clean too, but only when someone else does the
cookin’.”
He left her behind, laughing softly to herself, as he moved
on down the line toward his quarters. He could’ve stayed all night, listening
to her tales of woe, shouldering the burden of her grief and trying his best to
ease her ache. But right now, he was too fired up for such things. Right now,
he was itching for a fight. Right now, he wanted to settle this thing that was
niggling him. Right now, he wanted to talk to a ghost about a haunting.
Right after he had a short nap.
This is a fantastic series. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you for giving it a read. :) I am glad you are enjoying it.
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