“So, Sandra’s really innocent?” Olivia asked.
“No. Sandra innocent? Give me a break. She’s totally conniving. She knew what I was going to do to Marcus. In fact, she told me that if I wanted to make it look like someone else was involved, I should take his horse—or hers. Depending on who I wanted to implicate.” She giggled. “I would’ve taken Shiloh, but you were riding him that day. As far as Sandra’s concerned—well, if this bit her in the butt, she deserved it.”
Olivia reined in and turned around. “Where are we going?”
“Don’t you know yet?”
“No, I don’t.”
Mariah smiled at her. “There’s something I want from you—before you die, of course.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to see the general.”
Olivia gaped at her.
“I know you’ve seen him. I should have that. And you can give it to me.”
“Mariah, I’m trying to stay alive here, but—”
“Then don’t lie.”
“Ghosts were people, Mariah. They remain the real essence of the person they were.”
“Spiritual crap, Olivia. Keep at it.”
“Ghosts don’t just appear on command!” Olivia felt the gun against her waist. There had to be a chance for her to use it. Maybe now...
By the time she drew it out, she’d be dead.
“Keep moving and quit stalling.”
“Why? Because you know it’s all over? That someone will come searching for the two of us.”
“If they do, we’ll go out together,” Mariah promised her sweetly. She smiled. “You’re always telling the kids to do their best—to reach for what they want and work hard to achieve it. I’m just listening to you, Olivia. So, keep moving. We’re almost there.”
They rode again and came to the point in the copse where they had to dismount so they could walk the trail to the cemetery.
“Do you think the general’s going to hang around his grave?” Olivia asked.
“You’d better hope,” Mariah muttered. “Now, get down.”
Olivia dismounted. Mariah waved the gun she was carrying.
“Move.”
Olivia followed the trail to the small cemetery where General Rufus Cunningham’s mortal remains lay buried. It was still daylight, but the surrounding trees shaded them from the sun.
*
The cemetery, situated in the shadow of the forest, was touched by traces of sunlight. It was difficult to tell if anyone had used the trail leading to the cemetery in the past hour or so. Although there were a few signs of recent use, he couldn’t be sure. Still, as they neared the small collection of graves, Dustin became convinced that he was right—and that Jimmy Callahan had been right, as well.
He reined in before they came to the clearing in the woods. Behind him, Malachi and Abby stopped, too.
He slid down from Chapparal and walked back to Malachi. “There are some broken branches here that seem fresh. I think they dismounted a short distance ahead and walked to the cemetery. There’s really only one main trail. I’m going to crawl through some of the trees and bushes to approach from the other side.” He hesitated. “If I get a clean shot at Mariah...”
“Take it,” Malachi told him. “I intend to do the same. Abby and I will tether the horses and come up along the old trail.”
Dustin tried to move as quietly as possible—and as quickly as possible.
He thought of the different situations he’d faced in his life.
This was just one woman.
One crazy-ass woman with a gun—a gun she was pointing at Olivia.
He paused, stepping on bracken and expecting to hear the crack of a branch. But he heard nothing. Until, moving forward, he heard voices.
“Olivia, I’m from this land—don’t you get it? This land right here. You’re from the city.”
“And don’t you get it, Mariah? It’s all connected. The city needs the country, the country needs the city. Look, if you want to see the general...you have to be open to him. And he has to be in the area.”
Malachi finally came up on the cemetery. He hid behind one of the trees that grew around the little area, as if they were nature’s homage to the dead.
They were at the general’s grave site.
Mariah had Olivia by the arm. Her gun was wedged into Olivia’s side. He could take a shot; he could kill her easily. But there was no guarantee she’d go down before she pulled her own trigger.
Mariah suddenly swung Olivia around. Dustin could see that she was sweating, agitated. The hand that held the gun against Olivia was jerky. The trigger might be pulled easily.
“Where is he?” Mariah demanded.
They were looking right at his position, right at where he stood. Dustin straightened his cavalry jacket and pulled the plumed hat he wore lower over his forehead.
“Mariah,” Olivia said. “I told you—I’ve tried to explain. Ghosts don’t appear on command. They exist, and if you’re just open to them—”