Hanging a black man is a common occurrence, even if he is innocent of whatever false charges the vigilantes drum up. This time, the hanged man is guilty: Rocco Bell had broken into the home of Vera and Malcolm Crenshaw and shot her dead, while Malcolm cowed in a pantry. Before the gallows trap door drops, Rocco’s last words are only a whisper: “For you, my Wild Rose, I give my life.”
Rose sits up in bed with a start, gasping and sweating from the nightmare. “Oh, God, Rocco. Forgive me. It’s my fault. My love killed you. I’m the one who should be hanged.”
“Dearest Rose, you must not blame yourself.”
Alarmed, Rose pulls the covers up around her when a translucent image hovers over the bed.
“Mama? Mama!” Her face is as Rose always remembered, breathtakingly beautiful, a glowing spirit fra
