to trust any man. Even a man of the cloth.
Reverend Randall Ward Howe would never have imagined—not in his wildest dreams—that it would cost him a dollar to die. But that is exactly what he did—right in the middle of a hump—right on top of Leticia Murphy.
Letty felt the air and the life go out of him all at once. In her line of work, men often shot their wad before they even got it in. And no matter how loud they bragged to their buddies about their prowess, she’d watched their lust go limp on a regular basis. But she’d never, not once, had one die on her before.
With a panicked grunt, she pushed him up, then off of her. His purpling face and deflating belly were more than she could handle. She grabbed her pillow, clamped it over her face, and commenced to screaming until goose feathers came out between the threads in the ticking and into her mouth.
But time passed and Randall Howe continued to hog his share of Letty’s bed. When she could think without coming undone, she knew she had to make a plan. And since she was naked, the first thing to do was get dressed. Every few seconds she would give his body another push, just to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. To her continuing dismay, she hadn’t.
“They will hang me for sure! People have been coming for days to hear the preacher from back east, and I’ve gone and killed him in a bed of sin.”
With that, she began to shake.
But as with everything bad, there comes a time when weariness can overtake grief and fear. It happened to Letty just about the time she began to get mad. She leaned over the bed, peering into the preacher’s sightless eyes.
“It’s your fault, you stupid lout,” she muttered, then reminded herself. “I can’t just let him lay. I’ve got to do something!”
No one argued with her decision.
She yanked his hands across his belly, then folded his arms across his chest and covered him with a spread. Now he looked like the corpse he was, lying cold and still beneath the makeshift shroud. And with that thought, came another, followed on the heels of the wildest scheme she’d ever concocted. But if it worked, no one would be the wiser and she just might escape the hangman’s noose. She bolted for the door.
The silence of the bar was odd, almost eerie. She couldn’t remember a day when there hadn’t been at least a half-dozen men milling about, unwilling to go home.
Will the Bartender was still gone. She thought of Truly Fine, who’d left here over a year ago, and while she wished now that she’d been on that stage with Truly, the solitude in which she found herself was all the better to play out her hand.
To her relief, Eulis was right where she’d seen him last, passed out on the floor beneath the bar. Letty nudged him several times with the toe of her shoe. He didn’t budge.
“Eulis!”
He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
Letty bent down and grabbed his long, bushy beard, yanking it back and forth until his head lolled on his neck like a yo-yo.
“Dang it, Eulis, wake up!”
He groaned and rolled, squinting through swollen lids as the overhead lights all but blinded his vision.
“Letty? Izzatchu?”
“Yes, it’s me,” she hissed. “Get up.”
“Wha’ the hell are you doin’?” he muttered, and swiped at Letty’s hands. “Dammit, ’at hurts.”
She glanced nervously toward the door. If anyone came in now, her plan would be ruined before she had a chance to set it in motion. Thankfully, there was no one in sight.
“Get up!” she whispered. “I need your help.”
“Can’t. I’m in my cups,” Eulis said, and rolled over on his side.
Letty grabbed him by the ear, yanking hard enough to bring tears to Eulis’s eyes. “I will skin you alive and stake you on an ant hill if you don’t get up.”
As drunk as he was, it was the word ant that got his attention. Every now and then he still found a dead one in his tangle of beard.
He groaned and staggered to his feet. “What the hell do ya’ want?”
“Come with me,” Letty said, and all but dragged him up the stairs.
“Now see here,” Eulis mumbled, trying to regain his freedom before the whore pulled him into her room. “I ain’t able to help you out like this none. I’ve been drunk too long to get it up, and that’s a