Ghost of Christmas Past

Four

Four

 

Lilly flew to action, refusing to stop and reconsider her impulsive decision to ride toward Big Springs. She hastily packed food, water, rolled blankets, and changed into warm clothes and sturdy boots. Unfortunately her split riding skirt wouldn’t fit in her motherly state so she’d have to make do with a regular one. She plaited her hair in a practical braid and grabbed a brimmed hat from a hook in the closet. She also grabbed the saddlebag packed with bandages and a few medical supplies that Davy’s brother, Craig, had insisted they bring west. Being a doctor, Craig had worried that there wouldn’t be enough suitable physicians in Nevada. If she found Davy wounded she would need these supplies.

She finished packing, started to leave the house, but thought better of it and returned to her bedroom. She hurried to the bureau and retrieved the key to the trunk sitting at the foot of the bed and quickly unfastened the latch. She lifted the lead, revealing Davy’s sizeable gun collection. He had more guns than any man could possibly, and kept each meticulously cleaned and wrapped in oilskin. She selected a six-shooter and extra ammunition before quitting the house. The morning air was chilly and clouds of breathe puffed in front of her as she hurried to the small barn behind their house.

“Morning, girl,” she whispered to Lady, her chestnut mare. “How do you feel about a little adventure?”

The horse nickered in response and affectionately nuzzled Lilly’s shoulder.

“Good girl.” Lilly fed her a carrot from the barrel beside her stall and quickly set about tacking tacking the horse and lashing the supplies she’d gathered to the western saddle. In the end she had to leave one of the blankets behind, but overall she felt well prepared for what was probably a fool’s errand.

Lilly led Lady out of the barn and used the back steps leading into her house to mount up. Doubts assailed her the moment she settled onto the horse’s back and took the reins in her hands.

This was a mistake.

The notion that her dead fiancé had come to her in a dream was utter madness. She knew better than to be so fanciful. Life had a way of not working out every bit as often as it did.

But what of the books flying off the shelf? And her dream Daniel’s instructions had been frighteningly specific.

A shadowy figure moved fleetingly past her peripheral vision. Lilly snapped her head around to see what it was and Lady shifted nervously beneath her. A chill ran the length of her spine. Nothing. No one was there. “Did you see that, Lady?”

The horse snorted as though to say yes.

Lilly shivered, growing a bit more convinced that she was in fact being told something from beyond the grave.

What if Davy really wasn’t dead. Jack hadn’t confirmed because he’d been wounded and running for his life as well. Insane or otherwise, she had to find out for herself if her husband was still among the living.

Jaw set determinedly she kicked the horse into rolling canter. She’d been to Big Springs a few times with Davy. It was less than a day’s ride. Hopefully she’d stumble across him—or the water near Big Springs—long before dark.

* * * *

"Merry Christmas, boys,” Bobby Foster woke his gang long after the sun had risen. He kicked dirt onto the smoldering fire, dousing the flames. “Time to mount up.”

Collective groans rose up from the men still flopped in their bedrolls, sleeping off their hangovers.

“It ain’t Christmas yet, boss,” Dell grumbled. “Let us sleep.”

“Guess I’ll be riding into Big Springs to spend all this cash myself then. What with the marshal dead I thought it was time to celebrate.”

Dell was the first to shake off the effects of his over indulgence. “Big Springs? Today? I have been meaning to pay Miss Rosalie a visit down at the saloon. Come on, gents,” he hollered at the other gang members. It’s time to ride out and have us a little fun.”

* * * *

The sun crept higher into the clear blue sky, warming the sparse countryside as Lilly rode across the desert at a brisk pace. Growing a little too warm she shed her overcoat and laid it across her lap.

She sat forward in the saddle, slowing Lady slightly. She couldn’t explain it, but she sensed being on the right track. The truth of it resonated deep in her bones. Glancing around she spotted a darkened area on the ground and nudged Lady closer. Lilly shuddered as she realized that burgundy bloodstains coated the rocky ground.

Had Davy been shot down here?

The little kernel of hope that had sent her from home flourished. There was no body in sight. Had Davy been wounded here but not killed? Had he stumbled off somewhere else? He was a very large man. She couldn’t imagine coyotes dragging him away.

Shifting her gaze away from the bloodstains, she raked a critical gaze across the countryside and caught sight of a low spot lined with a few trees and a spray of grass. A pond! Her heart leapt. The water near Big Springs perhaps? She nudged Lady toward the watering hole, both terrified and hopeful of what she might find.

A trail of smaller blood spatters met her gaze as she rode toward the watering hole. She and Lady drew close to the bank, and Lilly glanced up the bank when she caught sight of boots out of the corner of her eye. Whipping her head around she spotted the figure of a man slouched against a hollow in the boulders. The charred remnants of a small fire sat a couple feet away.

“Davy!” She threw herself from her horse and flew across the grassy bank. “Davy!”

He didn’t move. His head slumped forward so far that his chin rested on his chest, and blood coated the front of his shirt and vest.

Heaven help her… had she arrived too late?