Breathe: A Novel of Colorado (31 page)

If they discovered Bryce was now the heir to Sam's mine, would
he be next? For the first time, she was glad Bryce was away from this
place. But if people were truly being murdered for their land, if John
DeChant had been killed, was Bryce any safer in his beloved valley?

Odessa entered her room and closed the door behind her. She
leaned her head against the cool wood and listened, but no one
followed.

She had to get out of this place. As soon as possible.

Bryce was digging holes with Tabito on the western boundary of the
ranch when Sheriff Olsbo rode by at a canter. He pulled up, touched his
hand to the brim of his hat. "Mighty glad to see you home, McAllan."

"Good to be back, Sheriff. You in a hurry? Or would you like to
come back to the house for a bit? It's about time for noon meal. The
men probably made enough to cover you, too. Can't attest to how
good it will be, only that there will be plenty."

"Can't," said the sheriff. "I'm on my way to Westcliffe to file a
report on the DeChant property."

"The DeChant property?"

"Yes. For all the good that sanatorium did you, they apparently
couldn't turn Amille around. She died a few days ago."

Bryce reached out to the nearest post, hoping it didn't look like
he needed it to support him. But he did. "Don't say. She wasn't faring
well when I was discharged, but I had hoped ..."

"We all did. That valley-and family-was cursed. And now,
with the bullet found in John's body-"

"What?" Bryce interrupted.

"Ahh, yes," he said, as if reluctant to share bad news. "We found
him in the cave-in. Thought his own mine had done him in. But
as the undertaker was dressing him for the casket, he discovered it.
Bullet wound to the chest."

"Murdered?"

"'Spect so. Most likely a claim jumper. John probably put up a
fight and the louse shot him, then staged the cave-in so no one would
know."

"There's some nice ore coming out of those hills. Bound to draw
some attention."

"Yep. Fine ore, but no miners. Old Sam's property might be
popular among bidders. Heard you inherited it."

"Yes. Surprised me."

"Sam liked his surprises."

"That's for sure. Still, I'm not entirely at ease with how things
have gone down around there. Awful convenient for them all to die
in such a short span of time. Did Sam talk to you, say anything about
anyone that made you think twice?"

Bryce paused. "Not anything definitive."

The sheriff stared at the mountains. "Strange that both Amille
and Sam died at the sanatorium, ain't it? What with all its grand
reputation and all? They haven't lost a patient in some time, right?"

"Right."

"Sam seemed on the edge? You know, at the end?"

"He'd relapsed a bit. But no, his passing surprised all of us. But
he wasn't exactly young. And Amille, she wasn't right in the mind.
She was refusing to eat when I left. A body can't handle starvation
and the consumption all at once."

"Right, right. I 'spect that is so. Still, as the new owner of Sam's
property, keep your ears to the ground, will ya?"

"Will do. Come back when you can join us for a meal, Sheriff."

"That I will, McAllan. Don't have to ask me twice." He tipped his hat again and kicked his horse into a gallop down the road, a small
cloud of dust rising behind him. Bryce stood there, running over his
words, his heart leaping at his warning. He didn't know where Sam's
secret entrance was. But Odessa's poem might hold the answer. Was
she in danger? Did anyone know what she had in her room?

Odessa and Helen were high in the foothills of the Rockies, steadily
making their way on horses to an inn near Divide. With the snow
quickly receding higher and higher and the hint of summer's heat on
the Chinook wind, they planned to spend the night there and hike
and ride about, returning to some of Helen's favorite haunts to take
photographs. It was glorious to escape town and the small cottage
she now shared with Moira. Her sister fancied herself a nursemaid,
but then acted as if she were burdened whenever Odessa asked for
help.

She sighed. She would not think of Moira today. She would only
concentrate on this pretty day and these gorgeous mountains. Thick
stands of evergreens blanketed the hills about them, the scent of sap
heavy on the breeze. But as soon as Odessa succeeded in casting aside
thoughts of her sister, something else troubling replaced it in her
mind.

"You're terribly quiet," Helen said, glancing over her shoulder at
Odessa.

"I need you to hide something for me, Helen."

Her friend pulled back on the reins and wheeled her horse about
on the narrow path. She rested her forearms on the horn and studied
Odessa. "Not much good comes from hiding."

Odessa looked about, peering into shadowed ravines as if there
were enemies about, even here. "I can't risk it, Helen."

"Risk what?"

"Moira is ... adjusting to life here. Nic is finally recovered from
his incident. The store is doing well. If they find out I have ... Please.
Will you just hold something for me for a while?"

Helen raised a brow. "Sounds like a hot potato. Might I get
burned if I take it from you?"

Odessa paused, sighed. "I don't know. I don't think so. Well,
perhaps ... No, forget it."

"Why don't you back up and tell me what's going on."

"No. Pay me no mind. I'm sorry I even brought it up."

"Odessa."

"No. You're right. I don't want you burned either."

Helen lifted a hand. "All right, all right. Come, tell me. I assume
responsibility for all potential burns." She smiled a little smile. "I'm
a tough old bird. I can take it."

Odessa considered the woman. And the potential relief in sharing her burden was too much to pass up.

She had opened her mouth to pour out her story when a shot
rang out, the bullet passing so near Odessa's head, she felt it go
through a loose strand of hair. It struck a tree to the left of Helen and
left a gaping hole. Helen frowned, looking from Odessa to the tree
again. Odessa was too stunned to move.

"Come on," Helen said, reaching forward to take Odessa's reins.
"Lean low!" she cried. Another bullet came singing past, striking a
boulder to their right.

Odessa leaned as instructed and then looked back, searching the heavily forested valleys on either side of the high mountain road.
Where were the bullets coming from? Who would dare to attempt
to murder them here? Did someone suspect she carried Sam's secret
note? No one was visible on the road behind them. Please, God ...

Another shot, this time from a different angle. How many
were there? Helen's horse reared up, but Helen held on. But the
mare lost her footing and was going over ... coming her way!
Odessa's horse shied and the sudden movement sent her one way
and the horse another.

She landed on her back and for a moment, wondered if she
was in a consumptive attack. But she had simply been winded. She
paused, waiting for her body to remember the newly returned habit
of breathing in and out, praying that she was not now an easy target
for those who hunted them. She rolled to one side, looking up the
hill for Helen, and yet another bullet barely missed her. Had she lain
still a moment longer ...

"Helen?" she croaked, gasping. It came in ragged droughts now,
but at least it was coming. Breathlessness was something to which she
had become accustomed, and dimly she supposed it didn't unnerve her
as it might another. She dug her elbow into the soft soil and pulled
herself up, knowing that every second was another for their enemies to
lock and load, gather them in their sights, and pull back on the trigger.

Helen appeared then over the edge of the road. "Take my hand,"
she demanded, reaching down.

Odessa did as she was told and the older woman hauled her back
onto the road. They bent low and grabbed their skittish horses' reins
and rushed around a bend, then paused between three old pine trees.
"How many?" Odessa panted.

"Two, maybe three."

"Highwaymen?"

"None reported here of late. I was confident bringing you up
here." Her gray eyes met Odessa's. "Odessa, do you think it's related
to your secret?"

"Could be," Odessa returned in consternation.

"It's that big, yes?"

"This would seem to say so."

"Then we better get out of here. Quickly."

"How?"

"We could send the horses on their way and pick our way out
among the forest. I know these woods well. And I can make it difficult for anyone to track us. On the road, now that they no longer
can wield surprise as a weapon, we'd have to outrun them. And that's
a gamble ... that our horses are stronger and faster than theirs."

"Decide, Helen. I trust you. But decide now."

She heard it then too, the pounding of horses' hooves.

"Take your canteen. And your bedroll."

Odessa hurried to do as instructed. Her fingers felt stiff and sore,
and she felt as though she moved underwater. She could hear a man's
shout. They were close, just a minute away!

There. The pack slid loose and she threw it over her shoulder.
Helen was reaching for her rifle, leaving the camera-crushed when
the horse came back and over-tied to the saddle. "Come on!" she
cried, slapping her horse and sending it running ahead. She moved
back to Odessa and pushed her toward the trees. "Get down behind
those bushes!"

She whacked the mare's flanks and the horse went running after her own, then she practically dived across the bush and had barely
turned when the three men came flying by, tucked and kicking their
horses in mad pursuit. Thankfully, Odessa and Helen's horses were
already around the corner, leaving only a teasing cloud of dust upon
the road.

"Come," Helen said, lifting her by the arm. "It won't be long
until they realize we escaped."

She rose and followed her friend down the hillside. Helen was
apparently not yet attempting to hide their path, since one rock
after another came loose in their mad descent. In minutes they had
made their way down the rocky hill, sliding most of the way down,
and reentered the forest below. The dust filled Odessas lungs, and
she labored to breathe. Helen leaned her against a tree and looked
upward. "Easy, sister. Take it easy for a minute and let your mind
remember how it is supposed to direct your lungs."

Odessa glanced back up the slope, eyebrows knit together.

"Let me be the lookout," Helen said. "You catch your breath.
We're lost if you give in to an attack now."

Odessa nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing
... in ... and out. She imagined she was on a hill overlooking Bryce's
ranch, with him beside her, a hundred head of horses running in a
glorious herd beneath them, toward the mountains, a sun setting
between the peaks ...

"Good enough," Helen muttered. She grabbed Odessas face,
forcing her to concentrate upon her. "Be strong. We can't rest again
until we put a couple of miles between that road and us. Do you
understand me? We can't rest again."

Odessa nodded.

"All right. Now I'm going to step carefully, and I want you to try
and match my pace. You're still lighter than a cougar just out of a winter's den, so make that work for you. If they find our trail, with luck
they'll think we're a lone man, not the two women they seek. Got it?"

Odessa nodded again, still conserving every ounce of oxygen in
her lungs.