The Bone Orchard by Abigail Roux Read Free Book Online Page B

it was gone.
    Ambrose stood frozen, mouth gaping.
    “You can’t kill the devil, Marshal Shaw,” Jennings cooed. His maniacal laughter echoed through the night.
    Ezra brushed up against Ambrose, cursing. “I can hear that,” he gasped. He sounded positively terrified.
    The horses in the nearby stables began to panic, kicking against their stalls. There were a few shouts for silence from nearby windows. Ezra obviously wasn’t the only one who could hear Boone Jennings’s laughter from beyond the gallows.
    “He’s stronger than I am,” Ambrose whispered to Ezra.
    “You couldn’t save any of them when you were alive, Marshal!” Jennings shouted, his voice echoing as if in two places at once. “And you can’t save any of them now. I intend to see my bone orchard grow.”
    He turned his back on Ambrose, and a moment later, he was gone.

“What happened back there?” Ezra demanded for the third time.
    They’d passed several people on the streets as he’d been trying to get Ambrose to talk, and he’d received odd looks each time.
    “You got to stop talking to yourself!” Ambrose finally shouted. “Town’s on the alert for a madman killing people involved in that trial; it won’t do for people to start popping up saying that they saw you talking to no one on the street!”
    Ezra blinked at him.
    “You got to be careful, Ezra!”
    Ezra nodded. “Of course. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize, just be quiet.”
    “Right.”
    “And stop looking at me!”
    Ezra gave him one more glance, then stared resolutely forward as they hurried back to the Continental and their room. He didn’t open his mouth again until the door was locked behind him.
    “What happened? You shot him, didn’t you? Did it hurt him?”
    Ambrose yanked his hat off and tossed it at the wall, raking his hands through his hair. “I did. And he pulled the damn bullet out with his fingers and laughed at me.”
    “He . . . Oh that’s slightly horrifying. So ghost bullets don’t kill ghosts. I suppose that’s good information to have accumulated.”
    Ambrose sighed and plunked down into his rocking chair, looking morose.
    Ezra waited for him to expound on what else had occurred, but he could soon see that Ambrose had no intention of doing so. Ezra took a few steps and knelt in front of the rocking chair, catching Ambrose’s eyes. “What else happened?”
    “He taunted me. Trying to get under my skin. Said I couldn’t save anyone when I was alive, and I can’t now that I’m dead neither.” Ambrose worked his jaw back and forth, snorting in frustration. “I’m useless, Ezra!”
    Ezra reached to comfort him, then stopped himself before he made contact. “That’s not true. We’ll get him. Together.”
    Ambrose gave him a game smile. “He said, ‘You can’t kill the devil.’”
    “He’s not the devil.”
    “You sure?” Ambrose asked, his voice thin as a wisp.
    “He’s nothing more than a man who died and stayed here. Just like you.”
    Ambrose’s tongue darted between his dry lips. “Do I scare you?”
    Ezra sat back on his haunches, resting his hand on the arm of the rocking chair. “Only when you sneak up behind me,” he said with an attempt to laugh.
    “ He should scare you.”
    “Well, I can’t see him . You, I can see. And you, I . . .” Ezra licked his lips and took a deep breath to settle himself. “You, I care for a great deal. So no, you don’t scare me.”
    Ambrose was silent, brooding.
    “Don’t go morose ghost on me now, Marshal. We need a plan.”
    Ambrose glared at him briefly before his lips twitched on a smile. “Well, we know where he appears now. Waiting there ain’t exactly time smart, but it’s all we got.”
    “And just like you in the saloon, he’s disoriented when he first gets there.”
    Ambrose nodded and reached out, his icy fingers gliding over Ezra’s cheekbone. He jerked his hand back as if surprised he’d done it, and they sat staring at each other in silence,