Ghost Towns. Martin H. Greenberg

worry, Reverend,” Ruthie said. “We know you were just too sad to be thinkin’ straight. We were sad too. All of our friends died. You were all we had left.”

      Tears trickled down Ledbetter’s leathery cheeks. The children each took one of his hands and clutched it. “You’ll have new homes now,” he whispered. “Real homes. Thanks to these men…” He looked at Bo and Scratch. “God bless you. My deliverers.”

      A long sigh came from him as life faded from his eyes. Ruthie and Caleb started to sob, still holding his hands.

      Scratch looked over at Bo and said, “I can’t figure it. We didn’t deliver him nothin’ but a mess o’ trouble.”

      “Not to his way of thinking.” Bo looked up at the mountains. The thunder was faint now, and the lightning only a fading glow. “Looks like the storm is moving on.”