by Keta Diablo
He moved closer and slid his arm around her. "It might be time I made an honest woman of you. I make a good living. I can provide well for you—and any family we might have. It’s time to find a place to settle down."
"Are you asking me to marry you?"
"I guess I am."
"I never thought a man would ask me that question."
"And I never thought I’d be the man asking that question."
Healy snuggled under his arm. They sat in silence watching the desert sky change color to a deep red, tinged with yellow, the sweet scent of sage carried in the still warm air. Could she live in this alien land, she wondered? Did she want to be a married lady?
She put her hand in Aaron’s, and he curled his fingers around hers. They sat very still, not looking at each other, only at the scenery before them. This was an important decision. One simple word could change both their fates. Where did I leave my crystal ball?
Aaron put his lips to her ear. "I didn’t hear an answer."
Chapter Seventeen
Healy shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot to rest her sore bottom on. The outskirts of a large city came into view as they crested a ridge. Thank God, I’ll get off this horse soon.
Aaron looked over his shoulder at her. "Denver."
Healy nudged her horse forward so they were riding side by side. "Beautiful as they are, I’ll be glad to get out of the mountains."
"You’re in for a treat. There’s a hotel here with hot and cold running water. Even got an elevator. I look forward to sleeping in a bed tonight."
"That will be a luxury but I like anywhere I sleep when you’re next to me."
He flashed her his rakish smile. "Speaking of which, let’s pick up the pace, shall we?"
As they rode on the dwellings got denser and soon they were on real streets. The first order of business was to find a livery stable. Aaron knew his way around Denver, and they were able to find a large stable not far from the hotel.
He got off his horse first, and even though she was perfectly capable of dismounting without his assistance, this was one of Healy’s favorite parts of the day. He stood beside her horse, his hand out. She slid off her mount and into his arms.
"Hello, Mrs. Turrell."
"Hello, Mr. Turrell."
They squeezed each other tight for a moment. When she moved away, Healy let out a groan as she tried to work her stiff legs.
"Riding a little rough in the saddle, there gal?"
"Yes, I’m a bit sore."
"Maybe we should take it easy tonight."
"Don’t you dare, Mr. Turrell! You know how I enjoy having you work out my kinks."
Her feet left the ground as Aaron scooped her up in his powerful arms and crushed her mouth with a passionate kiss.
She swatted him off, but not before enjoying the feel of his mouth on hers. "In public?"
"Let’s find that hotel, then I’ll show you all I get up to in private."
"This is a big place," she said, as they hit the streets with their bags.
"How does this sort of town suit you?"
"I think it’s too big. I might prefer Flagstaff."
"See any ghosts yet?"
Healy squeezed his arm with her free one. "No, I do not."
They walked the busy streets, so strange after all the weeks of solitude they’d enjoyed. Everything was so loud, so fast. She didn’t think she would enjoy the anonymity a city would provide anymore. When they came up to a large five-story building on the corner, Aaron stopped and swept his arm out. "The Windsor Hotel."
Healy looked at the lava rock and red sandstone hotel. It seemed so grand after sleeping on the ground or the other small hotels they’d been staying at. "Hot and cold water, huh?"
"Probably a bed too."
* * *
Healy brushed lint off her moss-green suit as she descended in the elevator. It was nice to be clean again.
When the attendant opened the door of the elevator, her heart started thrumming. She looked across the lobby for the cause. There stood Aaron, looking so dashing, leaning against the front desk, talking to the man who’d checked them in two hours earlier.
She crossed the sumptuous lobby to the man she never got tired of calling her husband. He looked up and tilted his head, a big smile on his face for her. "I have directions to the address of Denver branch of P.S.I. It’s on Market street, which isn’t far."
They linked arms and made their way out of the hotel and onto the street.
"I thought you said the agency always manages to reach you. Why go to the branch office?"
"I tried to explain this to you last night but you were more intent on my earlobes. They have always managed to find me in the past but with us moving around as we do, I have to wonder. I’ll see if there’s a message for me at the branch."
"How many agents are at this branch?"
Healy scrunched her brows together. "I’m not sure. I think there’s only one agent. I met an agent at our Christmas party who was being...." Healy couldn’t talk anymore with Aaron’s mouth on hers. She melted into his embrace a moment and then pushed him off. "Aaron! We’re out on the street!"
"Sorry, you looked so adorable with your face all screwed up like that I couldn’t resist."
"Where was I? Oh, yes, I met an agent once who was in line to be the agent at the Denver office. He was an odd duck. From England. I wonder if he’s here now."
Healy thought back to that party. Everyone was having a grand time except for her and that stiff Englishman, Dudley Worksop. They ended up gravitating toward each other as the two wallflowers at the party, though they’d hardly exchanged a few sentences.
That seemed such a long time ago when she was a different person. She wondered if the west would change Dudley too. She hoped so for his sake.
"Here we are," said Aaron, indicating a single-story storefront. It looked like it used to be a newspaper office. There had been an attempt to paint over the words, but the ghost letters bled through anyway. A small wooden sign set in the corner of the window announced it was the P.S.I Agency.
"This is nothing like the agency in St. Louis!" Healy explained, embarrassed for this to be Aaron’s introduction to her profession.
"Why don’t I stay out here and let you handle your own business."
One of the few things they quarreled about was her job at P.S.I. They worried their jobs would send them in different directions at times.
"I wish you’d come in. They might want me to go somewhere and you know more about this area than me."
He kissed her on the forehead. "I’ll be right here, smoking a cigarette if you need me."
Healy squeezed his upper arm before going in. She didn’t have to get far inside to know the branch office was a poor relation to the head office. The air smelled like fried onions and she saw dust motes suspended in the air. The dusty wooden floor had straw scattered around.
"Evenin’," came a voice from behind a screen.
"Good evening. I’m agent Healy Harrison Turrell."
A short, wiry old man stepped out from behind the screen, which must have been hiding a door leading to another room. He had a cast iron skillet in his hand, which he put down behind the screen.
"I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. I was in town and thought I’d check if I had any communications."
The old man smiled. "Communications from the dead or the living?"
"The living. In particular Nat Tremayne."
The man held out his hand. "I’ve been expecting you. I’m Eustace Granger."
"You were expecting me?"
"Yes, I have a letter for you. Nat expected you’d show up here."
"Do you work here alone?"
"Yes, I do, my lady. I’m expecting a replacement soon though. Young guy from England. His name is—"
"Yes, Dudley. I’ve met him."
"Do you think he’ll fit in here in Denver?"
"He might have to make some adjustments. But it will be good for him, I think
."
"Well, if you will excuse me, I’ll get your letter and you can be on your way. I see your young man is waiting for you."
Healy looked over her shoulder. Through the window she saw Aaron leaning against a wall, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette.
"My husband," she said.
"Be right back." Eustace disappeared behind the screen and was back a short time later, scratching his head. "Now where did I put that letter?"
"Might it be in your desk? Is that a desk?"
Healy pointed to a table with drawers at the end of the room, littered with piles of paper. The legs on the left hand side were missing and had been replaced with a stack of boxes. A sticky piece of fly paper, coated with the bodies of flies hung from the ceiling above.
Eustace laid a finger alongside his nose and winked at her. "I have been known to keep my important correspondence there." He rummaged around in the drawers and on the stacks on his desk.
Healy took a moment to look over her shoulder again and smile at Aaron, who smiled back.
"Oh, now what’s this?" Eustace held up a telegram. "I got this wire a while back. Some woman in Eagle Gulch, Colorado looking for an agent by the name of Burke James. I don’t know of any agent by that name. Do you?" Healy shook her head no.
Eustace went back to a stack of papers. "Here it is!"
He held out an envelope so covered in grime, Healy was glad she had on gloves. She recognized the black wax seal with the agency’s emblem. "Can I borrow that letter opener please?"
He handed her an ivory letter opener, and she slit the top open. Inside was a short note in Nat’s writing.
My dear, Mrs. Turrell,
I hope this finds you well. Your work in Tucson was commendable. Unfortunately, we must terminate your contract with the agency.
In about nine months’ time you will have other things to occupy you. You should decide on a location for your home sooner rather than later.
Best of wishes,
Fondly, Nat Tremayne
She looked up at Eustace and forced a smile. "Thank you. I’ll leave you to your supper. Do give Dudley my regards when you see him."
In a daze Healy made her way out onto the street, her hand on her stomach. When she was close enough to Aaron she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his.
"What was that all about?" he asked, when she’d broken free.
"I love you, that’s all."
He caressed her cheek. "I love you too. I never knew it could be like this. So where do they want you to go?"
"They don’t. I am without employment."
"Can’t say I’m sorry to hear that. I never understood why you wanted to talk to dead people. Gruesome work, if you ask me."
"It wasn’t all bad. Some ghosts like Cora were pleasant enough. One time a ghost named Barney helped solve a case. His sister, Ruth, was a fellow agent, but my special skills were required on that case. I shall miss being a detective, I think."
"If you want to be a detective, Pinkertons might have you. We did have the first female detective."
"Yes, Kate Warne. I’ve long been an admirer of hers. But I don’t want to do that. And Aaron— I’ve been thinking, I don’t want you to do that anymore either. It’s too dangerous. If anything happened to you I’d die."
"Aw, sweetheart, I’m careful."
"I’ve explored your body at my leisure, seen your scars, and heard your stories. What passes for being careful to you and what passes for being careful to me are two different things."
"What would I do?"
"We could open our own detective agency, except we won’t take dangerous cases. We help people find lost pets. That sort of thing."
Aaron stopped walking and looked at her. "I couldn’t do that."
"Oh, I know it seems demeaning and petty to you...."
"I don’t mean that. I mean lost pets make me sad."
"Aaron Turrell, you never cease to surprise me. In any case, I think it’s time we find a place to make a home. I might have other things to occupy me soon."
He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. "Are you...?"
"I don’t know. It’s possible. We have been practicing a lot."
He chuckled. "We have at that. Okay, let’s see a little of Denver and then go back to the hotel and have a nice dinner where we will discuss our future."
"I’d rather have dinner now and go back to our room, if you don’t mind. I’ve seen enough of Denver for one day. Suddenly sleeping on the ground has lost its appeal. I like the thought of sleeping with a roof over my head."
"Anything you say, darlin’. I was hoping you’d say that. I wouldn’t mind making an early night of it. We could still use the practice."
Healy linked her arm through the solid, strong arm of her husband, ready to walk beside him.
Suddenly it occurred to her why all those ghosts in St. Louis were looking at her. They were saying goodbye.
* * *
Thank you for reading The Ghost and the Bridegroom. You can find other books by Patti Sherry-Crews on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/Patti-Sherry-Crews/e/B01C7L8QUU or at her Author Home here: http://pattisherrycrews16.wix.com/author-blog
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading The Good, The Bad and The Ghostly. If you enjoyed the anthology, please help others enjoy it too. Recommend it; help other readers find this collection of eight western romance novellas by recommending The Good, The Bad and the Ghostly to readers’ groups and discussion boards.
Reviews help support Indie authors! Please leave one if you have time on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Tell readers why you liked the stories.
Your enjoyment of our books is the main reason we keep writing. The authors of this boxed set send our gratitude and our deepest thanks.
Margo Bond Collins
Keta Diablo
Andrea Downing
Blaire Edens
Erin Hayes
Anita Philmar
Charlene Raddon
Patti Sherry-Crews
ABOUT OUR AUTHORS
Margo Bond Collins
Bestselling author Margo Bond Collins writes urban fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal mystery. She lives in Texas with her daughter and several spoiled pets. Although writing fiction is her first love, she also teaches college-level English courses online. She enjoys reading romance and paranormal fiction of any genre and spends most of her free time daydreaming about heroes, monsters, cowboys, and villains, and the strong women who love them—and sometimes fight them.
For updates about Margo's publications, free fiction, and other goodies, be sure to subscribe to her Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/caUeyr
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Keta Diablo
Keta Diablo lives in the Midwest part of the United States on six acres of woodland. When she isn't writing or gardening she loves to commune with nature. A lifelong animal lover, she also devotes her time and support to the local animal shelters.
Keta's a bestselling Amazon author who writes in several genres, including western romance, historical romance, paranormal romance and the occasional gay romance. Her books have received numerous Top Pick, Book of the Month and Recommended Read reviews.
You can find her on the net at the following places:
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Andrea Downing
A native New Yorker, Andrea Downing currently divides her time between the canyons of city streets and the wide-open spaces of Wyoming. Her background in publishing and English Language teaching has transferred into fiction writing, and her love of horses, ranches, rodeo, and just about anything else western, is reflected in her award-winning historical and contemporary western romances. Her books Loveland and Lawless Love were both finalists for the RONE Awards, and Dearest Darling
won the Golden Quill Award for Best Novella as well as Favorite Hero and several honorable mentions in the Maple Leaf Awards.
You can find Andrea on the net at the following places:
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Blaire Edens
Blaire Edens lives in the mountains of North Carolina. She grew up on a farm that’s been in her family since 1790. Of Scottish descent, her most famous ancestor, John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch and Guardian of Scotland, was murdered by Robert the Bruce on the altar of the Greyfriars Church at Dumfries.
She has a degree in Horticulture from Clemson University. She’s held a myriad of jobs including television reporter, GPS map creator, and personal assistant to a fellow who was rich enough to pay someone to pick up the dry cleaning. When she’s not plotting, she’s busy knitting, running, or listening to the Blues.
Blaire loves iced tea with mint, hand-stitched quilts, and yarn stores. She refuses to eat anything that mixes chocolate and peanut butter or apple and cinnamon. She’s generally nice to her mother, tries to remember not to smack her bubble gum, and only speeds when no one’s looking. She’s the award-winning author of Wild About Rachel, The Witch of Roan Mountain, and The Fairy Bargain.
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Erin Hayes
Sci-fi junkie, video game nerd, and wannabe manga artist Erin Hayes writes a lot of things. Sometimes she writes books, like the fantasy mystery novel Death is but a Dream, the sci-fi middle grade book Jacob Smith is Incredibly Average, and the Her Wolf paranormal series.
She works as an advertising copywriter during the day, and she moonlights as a bestselling author. She has lived in New Zealand, Texas, and now in California with her husband, cat, and a growing collection of geek paraphernalia.
You can reach her at [email protected] and she’ll be happy to chat. Especially if you want to debate Star Wars.
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Anita Philmar
