“I can’t believe you found this place on your own,” Laredo said, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“It wasn’t easy—took me weeks of searching.”

More than once she’d been tempted to forsake the idea, but the thought of finding old roses had spurred her onward. Her patience had been richly rewarded. Not only had she discovered the White Lady Banks, her most valuable find to date, but on that same day she’d come across Laredo.

The truck pitched sharply and Laredo cursed under his breath.

“We’re pretty close now,” she assured him. His face was tense with concentration, and although he drove cautiously, he couldn’t avoid jolting the truck on the rough ground. There was barely even a track.

Savannah was grateful Laredo had agreed to escort her back to the ghost town, but what she looked forward to even more was their picnic. They were rarely alone. This stolen time was bound to be special.

Laredo eased the truck to a stop when they could go no farther.

“It’s only a short walk from here,” she promised.

The trek was difficult, through brush and dense cedars, and they were both breathless before the town came into view.

“So this is Bitter End,” Laredo muttered as he climbed over rocks to a limestone ledge that overlooked the town. He offered Savannah his hand.

She took it and stepped up. From the outskirts Bitter End resembled any other ghost town. A row of forsaken buildings lined the main street, four or five on each side, in various states of disrepair, various stages of dying. Paintless shutters hung crookedly by empty windows. The stillness and lack of sound gave it an eerie unreal feeling. Wind-tossed tumbleweeds had wedged in the corners and along the boardwalk. A quick inspection didn’t reveal any visible plant life, but there had to be some roses. The ones in the cemetery had survived. Others would’ve, too.

The largest building in town was the church, which sat on a hill at the far end of town, next to the cemetery. Time had left it remarkably untouched. It’d remained white and unblemished except for the charred steeple, which had apparently been struck by lightning. At the other end of town was a corral.

They clambered down a rocky embankment into the town itself. Then it happened just as it had on her first visit. The feeling of sadness and pain. Whatever possessed Bitter End wasn’t ghosts or spirits, of that she was fairly certain, but a sorrow so strong even the years hadn’t dimmed it.

She looked at Laredo, who faced the town squarely, feet slightly apart, ready, it seemed, for anything. He stood there silently, as if he was listening and yet heard nothing.

“Do you feel it?” she whispered. Normal tones didn’t seem right. On her previous visit she hadn’t murmured a word. She’d been in and out of the town within ten minutes. Just long enough to dig up the roses and replace them with a bush from her own garden.

“Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?” Laredo asked. He, too, spoke in a whisper, unwilling to disturb whatever it was that awaited them.

Savannah slipped her arm through his. “I’m positive.”

“Then let’s get it over with and get the hell out.”

“There aren’t any ghosts here,” she told him, still in a whisper.

“Whatever you say.” He smiled for the first time since their arrival.

“It won’t take long to look for more roses,” she said. The presence of another person—someone she trusted—made the town seem a little less frightening.

If Laredo wasn’t in such an all-fired hurry to leave, it might have been fun to explore the interior of some of the buildings. But then again, Savannah had the distinct impression they were trespassing as it was.

“Where do you want to start?” Laredo asked as they neared the main street.

“Anyplace is fine. I was in the cemetery earlier.” She motioned toward the church and the graveyard behind it. They walked side by side, holding hands. His warm grasp lent her reassurance.

The farther they went into town, the stronger the sense of sorrow became. With each step down the narrow street, the feeling grew darker. During her last visit she’d hurried through Bitter End as quickly as possible on her way to the cemetery, trying to shake off the sense of misery and unease.

She’d actually enjoyed visiting the graveyard. The sensation hadn’t been nearly as powerful there, and she’d been fascinated by the headstones. Most of the names and dates on the simple markers were no longer legible, but that hadn’t stopped her from picturing the kind of life the people of Bitter End had lived. It would have been a harsh existence, battling hunger, disease and the elements.

Savannah recalled the stories she’d read about the frontier days when Texas had been wild and unforgiving. Stories she would one day read to her own children.

Her own children.

The thought caught her unprepared. All these years Savannah had assumed she’d never marry. Since meeting Laredo she’d begun to believe that all things were possible for her. A husband and a family of her own. Despite the eeriness of the place, Savannah’s heart gladdened.

After a few minutes exploring the town’s streets, Savannah realized that the trip had been a waste of time and energy. Whatever flowers, roses or otherwise, once bloomed in Bitter End had long since died. Nothing grew inside the town. Nothing. Everything was dead, including the land itself.

The lone tree, an oak with gnarled limbs, was hollow and lifeless. It stood in silent testimony to a time and place long forgotten.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit bizarre that there’s nothing alive here? Not even a weed?” Laredo commented.

She nodded. The only plants that had survived one-hundred-plus years were the roses she’d discovered at the cemetery. “I want to go back,” she said.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Laredo murmured.

“I mean, to the cemetery,” she said.

He hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I don’t know, but I’m curious about the grave site where I found the roses.” It didn’t add up in Savannah’s mind. If those roses had survived, then it made sense that other plants would have, too.

“In my humble opinion,” Laredo said, his words barely audible, “we shouldn’t tempt fate. Let’s leave while the leaving’s good. All right?”

His hand gripped Savannah’s with such force that her fingers throbbed. He wasn’t intentionally hurting her, she knew, but reacting to the tension inside him.

“All right,” she agreed. “We’ll go. I’ll look some other time.”

“No.” The force behind the single word brought her up short.

“I don’t want you coming back here,” he said with an urgency that baffled her. “Not for anything. Understand? This place gives me the creeps.”

Despite her love for him, she couldn’t make that kind of promise. “No. Someday there might be a very good reason for me to return.”

Clearly, he wanted to argue the point, but right then, leaving appeared to be a higher priority. Frequently looking over his shoulder, Laredo led her back toward the faint path that would take them to the truck.

As they walked, the sensation gradually lifted from her shoulders. Savannah could feel it slipping away. Like a silk scarf dragged across a palm, the sensation faded until it was completely gone.

Once they reached the pickup, Laredo helped Savannah inside, then climbed in himself. He couldn’t seem to start the engine fast enough. His anxiety, even greater than her own, was contagious.

Savannah didn’t want to know what had created the feeling that pervaded Bitter End. There was nothing good in that town and maybe there never had been.

***

Life was filled with mysteries, Laredo told himself. The answers weren’t always meant to be known. That was the way he felt about this ghost town. Grady hadn’t said much about it, only that it wasn’t a safe place for Savannah. Her brother couldn’t trust her not to return on her own, so he’d put aside his dislike and distrust of Laredo and sought his help.