Free Under A Prairie Moon by Madeline Baker

had thought to go back, but living with the whites spoiled me. I got to liking soft beds and having a full belly summer and winter.”
    He tossed the stick in the water and watched the current carry it away. “It was an easy life, being a hired gun. After I killed Whittaker, there were a bunch of young guns who came to try me. I killed them all, but it wasn’t murder. It was never like that. I never shot anybody in the back. And with each killing, my reputation grew, until no one dared face me. I had to do very little work for the money I was paid. A few jobs a year…” He shrugged. “In Boston, I was a half-breed nobody, but in Ellsworth or Kansas City, I was Somebody. You understand what I’m trying to say?”
    “Yes, I guess so.” She hesitated a minute, then, in a rush, “How many men have you killed?”
    “Do you really want to know?”
    She nodded slowly.
    “Nine.”
    It was a lot, yet far fewer than she had expected.
    He grinned at her. “You look disappointed.”
    “No, no, I just thought…”
    “You thought it would be more. Dozens, maybe.”
    She nodded.
    “Not every job involved killing. I was a payroll guard for a while. Another time I escorted a banker’s wife to San Francisco. Once I had a big rep, I rarely had to draw my gun.”
    Kathy nodded again, wishing she had brought paper and pencil along. “How come I can see you so clearly? I thought ghosts were, you know, invisible or transparent.”
    “I don’t know.” It was a riddle he hadn’t solved yet, her being able to see him when no one else could.
    She touched his chest with her fingertip. “And you’re solid.”
    “Being invisible is easier.”
    “Is it?”
    “Yeah. Takes a lot of energy to materialize and to stay that way.”
    Kathy shook her head. It was amazing, just amazing.
    “You don’t believe me?”
    “No, I believe you. I was just wondering why I can see you, and no one else ever has, except for…never mind.”
    “Except for Lydia.”
    Her name sounded like a curse, the way he said it. That quick, the easy camaraderie between them was gone. “Dalton, I’m sorry.”
    “Forget it.” Suddenly restless, Dalton walked away from her. Lydia. He hoped she was burning in the deepest, hottest part of hell.

Chapter Six
     
    John Lawson arrived with her furniture shortly after noon on Saturday. Dressed in a short-sleeved Western shirt, faded blue jeans, scuffed boots and a tan Stetson, he looked as though he had just stepped off the cover of a western magazine. In addition to her furniture, he brought her a bouquet of bright yellow daisies.
    “Welcome to Saul’s Crossing,” he said, offering her the flowers with a flourish and a smile.
    “Thank you.” She glanced past his shoulder to where a tall, beefy young man clad in black jeans and a sleeveless black t-shirt stood leaning against the back of the truck. “I see you brought help.”
    “Yeah, that’s Sonny. Actually, I’m here to help him. He could probably carry all this stuff in on his own without breaking a sweat.”
    Kathy checked out the other man’s brawny arms and smiled. “I think you’re right.”
    It didn’t take the two men long to unload the truck. Kathy stood in the kitchen doorway, out of the way, while they carried things in. Once, feeling a brush of cool air, she glanced over her shoulder, but if Dalton was there, she couldn’t see him.
    “Well,” John said. He took off his hat, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “That’s everything.”
    “Nice meeting you, ma’am,” Sonny said.
    “You too. Can I offer you something to drink? A Coke, or some ice water?”
    “A glass of cold water would be welcome,” Sonny said.
    “We’ll wait out on the porch,” Lawson added.
    Kathy went into the kitchen and filled two tall glasses with ice water, then carried them outside.
    Sonny took his and drained it in one long swallow. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then handed her the glass. “Thank you, ma’am,”