Sister Ruth and Kid Cole were enjoying a lovely, little county fair. There were horse races, food contests, and livestock to look at.
"You seen enough?" Kid asked after they'd finished their meat pies and lemonade, items they'd purchased for their supper.
"Not just yet. There's supposed to be a fortune teller who holds séances around here somewhere. I wouldn't mind talking to her."
Kid knew she had no intention of contacting a specter but instead wanted to try and talk some sense to the medium. "I was expecting that. Okay, let's go."
They waited in line at least 45 minutes to see her. She was a popular attraction it seemed. Ruth watched the people who left the tent. Some looked unsure and skeptical, others laughed it all off like it was a big joke, but a couple looked amazed and confident that whatever they'd just witnessed was true and those were the ones she worried about.
At last, it came their turn to see the supposed clairvoyant. She was a beautiful, young woman who boldly wore her long, straight hair down in a fiery, henna-colored waterfall, a flowery crown gracing it. Her dress looked like something they wore in the renaissance.
"You speak to spirits?" Ruth asked.
"Yes. It is a gift I've had since I was a child." Her accent was thick from some European country in the southeast like Bosnia or Yugoslavia maybe, adding to the mystique of the strange objects in the tent.
"I don't believe it. And I think what you do is terrible making folks think they're talking to those who are beyond contact. It would be one thing if you told them it was all for a lark, but you're lying to them."
"An unbeliever I see. What I do is comfort people who are grieving for their loved ones. I give them hope. You may not agree with my methods, but you can't disagree with the results."
"It's a false hope built on lies. Lies that may lead to eternal damnation."
"How opinionated you are, but before you condemn me, perhaps you should see what it is you're condemning. Yes?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why? Are you afraid to summon the dead, Sister Ruth?"
August 1840
Pleasant Mountain, Missouri was a town, or a village really, made up of about 40 people at the most and Ruth had been pleased to find that nearly all those 40 people had shown up for the revival. It was so named because it was the closest thing one found to a hill in this prairie land. What it was truly was barely elevated land, but it was pleasant enough.
Kid was loading the wagon with the benches by himself, refusing Ruth's help as she was getting close to her lying-in. There wouldn't be many more revivals for awhile. They were preparing to head to a milder climate as winter would be here before they knew it.
She had thought all the attendees had left, but one still lingered. She was a slight woman with eyes that seemed to bulge from her sockets, dark hair that was extremely curled in a wild, natural way, and skin that had been darkened by the sun. Even now she wore no hat or carried no parasol to protect her from the beaming sun.
When she saw Ruth was looking at her, she rushed up to present her request. "You are clearly a woman of great spiritual power to have brought healing. You're just the one I've been looking for. I need your services."
"I'd be happy to help anyway I can, Miss..."
"Oh, folks just call me Electa."
"Electa, what is it you need?"
"I need help ridding my house of a ghost."
"The only ghost I believe in is the Holy Ghost, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll come to your house to show you there ain't nothing to be afraid of."
"Thank you. You'll believe in ghosts soon enough, I promise you."
Ruth doubted it, but she didn't argue with her.
Instead, she took off her revival robe, revealing her dress underneath. The robe had been doing a fairly good job of hiding her condition, but now it was plain to see.
"You are going to have a baby," Electa said, her wide eyes getting wider. "This was a mistake. I'll find someone else. A priest maybe."
Ruth peeked behind the wagon. Her 4-year-old daughter, whose red blonde waves were gradually becoming a light auburn was flushed and laughing. Mercy was entertaining herself by spinning until she got dizzy and then watching the topsy-turvy world gradually right itself.
Ruth grinned and held out her robe. "Honey, can you put this up for me while I talk to the nice lady?"
"Yes, Momma," Mercy said coming over to get it in a rather zigzaggy line but managing to stay upright just the same.
"And you have a little girl. I really shouldn't have asked you to do this. Forget I said anything."
"No, I want to help. You want us to spend the night. Is that it?
Despite her earlier reluctance, she looked relieved that Sister Ruth was coming. "Yes. And maybe it won't be dangerous. After all, it has yet to harm me."
Ruth explained to Kid Electa's problem when he was done with the benches and he agreed that there was no harm in going to her house and checking it out.
They followed her the short distance to her home. Mercy counted the buildings as they went.
On the way, they learned Electa lived alone, her parents and brother having died not long after they'd settled here, which might go a long way in explaining her strange imaginings. She swore up and down she saw shadows and heard voices in the night. It was obvious that she really believed the house was haunted, but Ruth knew there had to be a logical explanation for both these occurrences.
Kid felt that way too, or at least he did until he saw a man out of the corner of his eye. He glimpsed him only for a second, but it was enough to recognize the thick lips, the blonde hair, the crooked nose. And he knew him because he had shot him. Saw him buried even. He was completely sure it was the same man because his was the face that he remembered the clearest of all in the list of the men he had shot because this was the man he'd accidentally won the title of fastest draw in the west from.
It couldn't be him. It just wasn't possible. He shook off the crawly feeling he had. It was all this talk of ghosts. There was certainly no one at that corner now. So why then did he feel as if he were being watched?