A Haunted Twist of Fate (14 page)

He drove slowly through town, silent and considering
all she’d told him. The entire story was incredible.  But the one thing that
had most captured his attention was the fact that she’d accidentally stumbled
upon Denise’s headstone. Once again, he didn’t believe this incident had been
rooted in chance.  That was because of the bluebird.

At first, Shay had been hesitant to tell the whole
story.  As he prodded, she’d revealed that she’d come upon the headstone quite
by accident. She’d mentioned being surprised to look up and see Denise’s name. 
She hadn’t asked anything about Denise, and understandably so. If she hadn’t
mentioned the bluebird, he would have felt a lot more awkward talking about his
wife, too. But the bird was something he simply couldn’t ignore.

He cleared his throat.  “I want to tell you
something, Shay. It may sound crazy, but…”

She interrupted him. “Colt, trust me. Nothing you
say could sound crazy. You’ve listened to everything I’ve said, and you haven’t
called the men in the white suits yet.”

His gaze remained focused on the road ahead. “Denise’s
animal totem was a bluebird.”

When Shay didn’t respond, he glanced sideways. She
was turned in the seat, her body facing him, with her forehead wrinkled in
question.

“Do you know what an animal totem is?”

“I’ve heard the term. It has something to do with
Native Americans, right?”

“Yes. A totem is symbolic. It can be the symbol of a
tribe, a family or an individual. Native Americans believe animals hold special
power and knowledge, and that each individual is connected with an animal that
accompanies the person through life, acting as a guide. They call that animal a
totem. Although a person may identify with different animal guides throughout
his or her lifetime, it is one special totem animal that acts as the main
guardian spirit for that person. The animal guide offers power and wisdom. Denise’s
guide, or totem, was the bluebird.”

“Was Denise Native American?”



“No. But she underwent a variety of alternative
treatments during her illness, and some of them were spiritual in nature. She
had many Native American friends.  She respected the culture and beliefs.”

“And Denise chose the bluebird as her totem?” Shay
asked.

Colt could see her intrigue was piqued. He shook his
head. “The animal chooses the person, not the other way around. Every animal
has its own special power and message. Denise began to realize that she’d always
been drawn to bluebirds.  The bird had consistently appeared in her life from
the time she was a child. It wasn’t until the bird came to her again at her
darkest moment that she understood what he was offering.”

“Which was?”

As Colt glanced back at her, Shay’s gaze was direct.
“What was the bluebird’s power and message?” she repeated. “Do you know?”

“Yes. The bluebird is symbolic for happiness within.
He signifies a contentment and fulfillment that
is
happening or is about
to happen.”  Colt waited to see if the meaning sunk in. Although the bird had
been Denise’s totem, he suspected it had also made a connection with Shay.

It seemed her mind worked like a well-oiled
machine.  She was putting two and two together. He made a turn onto Frank’s
street. Next time he looked at her, there were tears pooling in the corners of
her eyes.

“The bluebird came to your wife to assure her,” she
said, apparently understanding. “To let her know it was okay to move on to the
next world.”

Believing that to have been the message of the
bluebird all those years ago, Colt nodded. He pulled into Frank’s drive. When
he cut off the motor, Shay reached for his hand. She trembled, but her tone was
respectful. “Colt, do you think that was Denise’s bluebird who came to me this
morning?”

“I don’t know,” he answered with honesty. “It’s a
mighty odd coincidence. But then, there have been a lot of those lately.”

Shay’s eyes were bright with tears. He leaned
forward and wiped one from her cheek. “No need to be sad. The bluebird totem is
all about happiness. He chose you, as he chose Denise, to give you a message. There’s
a lot going on in your life right now. You must have many questions that don’t
seem to have answers right now, such as, why did you lose both your parents so
close together? What drew you to this town?  Why did you buy the saloon? Why
are you seeing ghosts? Is it chance that you and I met?”

She sniffled. “What do you think the bluebird’s
message is for me?”

Colt took her hand and held it. “I think he wants
you to know that it’s time to move past your grief and your fears. I also
believe he wants you to listen to his song so you can find your own joy and
open your heart. With your heart open, it’ll be easier for someone close to you
to fill that empty space inside.”

She squeezed his hand. “Someone like you?”

The words that came out of his mouth flowed as
smooth as honey. “Yes. Someone
exactly
like me.”

When she lifted her gaze to him and smiled, he felt
his own heart might burst from his chest with emotions he’d kept locked away
for so long.

“Do you think it’s strange that the bluebird could
be Denise’s totem and mine, too?”

“No. I’m starting to believe in a lot of things I
never believed before. In fact, I think Denise may have had something to do
with the bluebird visiting you this morning. She was a fine woman, and she
didn’t want me to go through life alone.”

Shay smiled again.  Relief seemed to roll off her
narrow shoulders. Maybe she’d been thinking the same thing but hadn’t wanted to
suggest it.

“Even though the bluebird hasn’t shown himself to you,
perhaps the message is also for you, Colt,” she said, looking hopeful.

“If I were a betting man, I’d say there’s a good
likelihood of that.” He held her chin in his fingers and kissed her softly on
the lips, feeling the tides turning between them. They parted, and he glanced
through the windshield to Frank’s house. The magical moment was destroyed when
he saw a figure at the window.

“At least Opal could hide behind the curtains while
she’s spying on us,” he growled.

Twenty-Three

“Who’s Opal?” Shay asked, squeaking open the
passenger door and following his line of vision to the front of the house.

“Frank’s full-time nurse. She’s standing right there
in the window. Opal’s a real trip. Ignore anything rude that might come from
her mouth. I don’t think the woman can stop herself.” As they walked up the
sidewalk, he felt bad that Shay had hurt herself earlier, but her spirits
seemed to have lifted. He noticed her tears had dried. “Do you feel better?”

“Much.”

Opal opened the door and greeted the two of them
with a pleasant smile. “Come on in, Colt. It’s nice to see you. Frank and I
have been expecting you.”

Colt narrowed his eyes at her. “You feeling okay,
Opal? Are you running a fever?”

She laughed. “I’m not sick, silly. I’m as healthy as
a horse, but thanks so much for asking. Who have we here?” Her curious gaze stuck
to Shay.

“This is Shay Brennan. She’s the new owner of the
Buckhorn Saloon I was telling you about. Shay, meet Opal Franklin.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Opal said, extending a pudgy
hand.

“Same here.” Shay shook her hand. “I appreciate your
letting us drop by today. How’s Mr. Averill feeling? Is he up to having
visitors?”

It was obvious she was anxious to meet Frank.

“He’s awake and looking forward to meeting you, Miss
Brennan.”

“Please call me Shay. May I call you Opal?”

“Of course, honey. Come on back.”

With Opal leading the way down the hall to Frank’s
room, Colt shook his head, wondering if aliens had abducted the real Opal and
replaced her with a nicer version. When they stepped into Frank’s bedroom, his
thin frame was propped against a stack of pillows, and his eyes looked clear.

“Come in, Colt,” Frank said in a stronger voice than
Colt had heard in months. Without a moment’s hesitation, Shay stepped up to one
side of the bed.  In an unexpected gesture, she took Frank’s hand when he
stretched it out. Colt sauntered to the other side.

“I’ll leave y’all to your visit,” Opal called from
the doorway before tromping down the hallway.

Before Colt had a chance to introduce the two of
them, Colt saw Frank’s eyes grow large and his mouth drop open. In a matter of
seconds, all the color began to drain from his face.  He sat immobile and taut
as if in shock.

“Frank, you okay?” Colt jiggled the man’s arm. “You
look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he
realized his choice of phrasing might not have been the best.

Shay seemed not to notice his faux pas. She touched
Frank’s other arm. “Mr. Averill, are you all right?” Frank’s face looked frozen
in that strange expression. Shay looked over the top of him.  “Colt, maybe you
should call for Opal. I think something’s terribly wrong. He could be having a
stroke.”

“No.” Frank’s hand shot out and grabbed Colt’s arm. 
He suddenly came out of the trance—or whatever it’d been.  His voice was firm. 
“Don’t need Opal. No stroke. I’m okay.”

Colt released a sigh of relief.  “You scared the hell
out of me, Frank. Are you sure you don’t want me to get your nurse?”

He nodded and kept his gaze on Shay. She placed a
hand over her heart and sighed, too.

“What is it, Mr. Averill?” she asked quietly. “Are
you confused? Do you feel ill? Please tell us what scared you a minute ago.”

“I’m not scared,” Frank said.

Colt noticed the color was slowly returning to his
sunken cheeks.

“I was surprised. That’s all. Still am, if truth be
known.”

“Surprised about what?” Colt asked.

“Her.” Frank pointed a bony finger at Shay.

Colt and Shay exchanged uncomprehending glances over
the bed.

“Do you mind explaining?” Colt said.

“Open that bottom drawer of the bureau. There’s a
picture book I want you to get. And grab my eyeglasses from the top.”

Colt did as Frank requested and laid the photo album
in Frank’s lap. With a shaky hand, Frank slid on his glasses and began flipping
through the yellowed pages.

When Shay threw Colt another quizzical look, he
shrugged.

“Here it is. Colt, take a look at this.”

Colt pulled his own glasses from his shirt pocket
and slipped them on. When Frank jabbed his pointer finger into a sepia-colored
photograph, Colt lifted the album closer to his face and stared.  A jolt raced
down his spine. The resemblance was uncanny.

When he met Shay’s gaze, she questioned him with her
eyes but said nothing.  She waited for him to explain.

“Who is this woman?” Colt asked Frank, whose intense
gaze was riveted to Shay.

“My grandmother. Cynthia Averill.”

Twenty-Four

Shay had to see why Frank was scrutinizing her and
what had Colt’s brows stitched together. She crossed to the other side of the
bed and peered at the photo.  It was a professional photograph taken by the
Spearfish Photography Studio, circa 1887, according to the stamp on the bottom.

“These are your grandparents, Mr. Averill?” she
asked, staring at the handsome couple.

“Dean and Cynthia.  And there’s no need to call me
Mr. Averill. I’m just plain Frank.”

Shay smiled at him and then returned her gaze to the
photo. Dean was standing with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. He wore a suit
and derby hat. Cynthia sat in a chair wearing a gown and a hat with feathers. Her
hair was long, hanging down her neck in ringlets. Both were solemn, neither of
them smiling for the camera.

“I found a photo of your grandfather,” she excitedly
told Frank, while retrieving from her purse the Xerox copy Doris had made from
the book. “Look. He’s wearing the same derby hat.”

“Don’t you see the resemblance?” Colt asked,
abruptly stopping her.

“What do you mean?” She witnessed Colt and Frank
exchange glances, but didn’t know why. She had no idea what Colt was talking
about.

“Cynthia Averill,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You
kind of look like her.”

“Me?” Shay chuckled and took another, closer look. “You
think I look like Frank’s grandmother?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Why would you think that? I don’t see it.  The long
hair maybe.”

Colt looked to Frank for confirmation. “You see it,
Frank. Don’t you? That’s why you keep staring at Shay.”

Frank blinked several times, and his mouth folded
downward. “I don’t know. I’m an old man. I don’t see so well anymore, even with
these bifocals.” He jerked off the glasses and stuck them into Colt’s hand. “I
get confused a lot these days.”