Karen Mercury by Manifested Destiny [How the West Was Done 4] Page A

all right?” Worth asked.
    Jeremiah shook his head as though to rid it of cobwebs. “Fine. Just some residual effects from the medicine I took for St. Vitus’s Dance. Now, about Harley. I’m sure since you are a fellow professional—”
    “ Jiminy cricket! ”
    Worth automatically clutched Jeremiah’s arm, because this time he was certain he wasn’t hallucinating. Phineas had suddenly manifested again, sitting in the exact same position as before next to the pork bowl! She had definitely not been there a half a second beforehand, and now she looked eagerly up at them, panting!
    Worth whispered, “Did you see what I just saw?”
    Jeremiah whispered back, “If it’s what I just saw, then yes.”
    “What did you just see?”
    Jeremiah pointed a shaky finger at the hedgerow. “Phineas was there. Suddenly she was here. Without any in-between running or moving.”
    They looked at each other, blinking. Worth whispered, “How could that possibly be?”
    When he remembered to look back at the pork bowl, Phineas had vanished again! The two men sprinted off the flagstones and down various paths, pivoting about like ball players trying to find the dog, but she was nowhere to be seen.
    They practically ran into each other like headless morons when they returned to the bowl. They jumped and clutched each other when Tabitha appeared at the back garden door, her brows knitted with amusement.
    “Excuse me, fellows,” she said uncertainly. “I just wanted to make sure Phineas ate before she came back inside.”
    The men gasped and clutched each other even tighter. Worth was the first to say, “Came back inside? But we closed the back door. Tabitha! Did you open that door just now?”
    “Why, yes,” she said weakly, looking at her hand around the doorknob. “How on earth did she get back into the parlor? I assumed you’d let her in.”
    Now Jeremiah rattled Worth mercilessly. “Ghost dog!” he wailed ominously.
    “Ghost dog.” Worth had no choice but to agree.
    Wrenched into action, Jeremiah flew past Tabitha inside the house, Worth hot on his heels. Worth stopped only long enough to tell the woman, who after all he’d just met ten minutes ago, “Foster’s dog is a spirit!” Then he raced off through the kitchen and down the hall.
    Worth didn’t know how he was going to broach this idea to Foster, that his dog was not of this world. Phineas is a former dog who has ceased to exist. Foster had said something about Harley telling him the dog had died and how pleasantly surprised he was to find her out in front of the restaurant.
    Worth now knew. The dog had died.
    But how was he going to convince Foster? The dog felt real. Her silken fur tickled the palms pleasantly, and she smelled like sun-warmed grass.
    In the parlor, Jeremiah was already frantically shaking Foster by the biceps and wailing, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen, Mr. Richmond! A ghost dog is the least of them, believe you me! I’ve seen the spirit of a dead bear wrestler materialize and write things with his ghostly hands. I’ve seen spirits throw snowballs. I’ve seen—” Jeremiah choked up, too overcome with emotion to speak. But he gasped and spat out, “I’ve seen tiny jesters dancing on my knees! ”
    Foster was apparently too polite to unpeel the circus performer from his person, especially since Tabitha now stood behind Worth, craning her head to see into the parlor. Foster leaned over to look at Tabitha and chuckled nervously. “Ah, Miss Hudson? I have no idea what your assistant is talking about. Ghost dogs?”
    Worth blurted out, “I saw it, too, Foster. She kept vanishing and reappearing in different places. And she just got inside the house without benefit of using the door.”
    Tabitha strode over to Foster. “It sounds strange, but I tend to think there’s some merit in what they’re saying. That door was closed. How did she get back into this parlor? My sisters have told me stories, too. Laramie is some