Breathe: A Novel of Colorado (32 page)

"You might as well head out. Leave now, and you might make the
noon train."

"What?" Bryce asked, leaning against his shovel.

"You've got the sickness," Tabito said, digging in again.

"What?" Bryce asked him. "I've just spent months at the sanatorium." He pounded his chest twice. "Never better."

"Not here," said Tabito, waving over his chest, over the lungs.
"Here," he said, hand over his heart. His black eyes searched Bryce's.
"Who is she? You've been thinking of her ever since you got back.
You've been worthless." He waved down the row of fence posts. "You
do one. I do ten. Is it the girl you paint?"

"She's ..." Bryce began. But he couldn't finish. How did one
describe Odessa St. Clair? And do her justice? Every word seemed
to fail his efforts. So instead, he had painted her, painted her as a
woman, not a ship atop a sea. He painted her in profile, on a hill
from far away, resting in the bottom of a rowboat, a fishing rod across
her lap. "Yes, she is who I have been painting."

Tabito grunted. "She is strong, that one. A warrior."

Bryce smiled. "Any woman who faces consumption and beats it
back is a warrior. But yes, that one is strong."

"Then she is your true companion. She belongs by your side. Go
and get her."

"It is not that simple."

"Yes, it is." He stepped forward and turned Bryce in the direction of the cabin, the stables. "Go and speak to her father. Tell her
you have many horses, good land. And that you have need of her."

Bryce laughed and shook his head. "Again, it is not that
simple."

Tabito stared at him for a long moment. "You laugh at me-"

Bryce let out a breath of exasperation. "Tabito, no. I-"

"Is not love simple?" He poked him in the chest. "It is you
people who think too much over it." He gestured back to the twelve
canvases beside them. Then he turned and tapped him on the chest
again. "You are a man of many horses. She is a woman who belongs
by your side. Go and get her."

"Go and get her? And bring her here? To the house I share with
you?" He laughed, looking around the tiny cabin. They each had a
room, if one counted the blanket as a wall.

"Sell some horses. Finish your uncle's house. It is half done."

Bryce stared at him for a long time.

"My friend, a woman like this," Tabito went on. "She passes
through your life like a dream. If you do not wake, catch her, she will
disappear with the morning sun."

Bryce thought on that for a moment longer. All at once, he
wanted to see Odessa, desperately wanted to reach out, touch her.
Hold her. Be with her. What if something had happened to her?
What if she had weakened in these last weeks, her consumption
worse? He looked to the mountains, as the sheriff had done, as if they held the answers. He forced himself to ask the next questions,
so heavy on his heart since the sheriff had ridden away. What if Sam
and the DeChants had been murdered?

Worse yet, what if he had left her, and in the meantime, something awful had transpired? Had he left her when Odessa needed
him most?

"Lunch is here," Moira said, nudging open the shop door. "I bet
you're famished."

Dominic turned from the bookshelves and smiled at her.
"Stomachs been rumbling for hours. What did you bring?"

"Some leftover roast beef and fresh bread from the bakery.
And this ..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a perfect
orange.

Nic pretended to suffer an attack and fell back. "An orange! I
haven't seen one of those in months!"

"They say we'll have produce shipments all summer. Had to pay
a pretty penny for this one."

"More like two or three."

"Never mind. We'll split it," she said, handing him a knife.

"I saw Odessa today. She and Helen stopped by on their way out
of town."

"Where were they going?"

"A ride up to Divide. They'll be gone overnight."

"They're miracle workers, over there at the sanatorium." Moira
leaned against the counter, cutting the orange in half. "Perhaps our
family curse has ended. Perhaps we've found the cure."

Something she said reminded him of the sheriff. "Now if we
could only cure ourselves of Sheriff Bannock's attentions."

She looked up at him and flashed him a grin, then waggled her
light brows. "I found a way, Nic, a way out of our conundrum."

"And what is that?" He folded his arms across his chest.

"I've accepted an invitation."

"What sort of invitation?"

"An old suitor wishes to come calling."

"An old suitor? From Philadelphia?"

"Well of course, from Philadelphia, silly. Where else would I
have found one?" She moved past him and the counter, heading to
the pitcher of water and glasses.

"Who? Who is it?"

"James Clarion Jr."

Nic's breath caught. James Clarion. He had been the most wealthy
of Moira's potential suitors back home, but Father had thought it too
soon for her to marry, regardless of the beau's stature.

Moira took a sip of water and raised demure eyes toward her
brother. But the sea-foam green orbs were sparkling with delight.
Nic swallowed hard, his mind racing. What would the sheriff do
when he found out? "I thought Father didn't want you accepting his
company any longer. Accepting any suitor, Moira."

"I wrote to Papa, and he wrote back, saying he agreed. That if
James cared enough to come all the way out to Colorado to see me,
that it `said something about the man."' She moved toward Nic and
straightened his jacket, smoothing the shoulders, then moved on to
his necktie. "Don't you see, Nic? Who will be the happiest about my
new beau when he finds out?"

Dominic cast about, trying to see where she was going. Finally,
he shook his head.

"Who wants nothing more than the world to know about
Colorado Springs? For the influential to flock here, invest here, stay
here?"

"General Palmer."

"And as a railroad man with an eye toward expansion, who is in
need of coal and iron?"

"General Palmer."

"And who holds our dear sheriff in the palm of his hand?"

"General Palmer."

"Exactly," she said, patting his chest. She grinned. "I can hardly
wait for the moment when Reid finds out. When he knows I've
found my way out from beneath his long fingers."

"Careful, Sissy. We've been down this road of hope before."

"Oh, I know it. I'm not completely the fool." She paced back and
forth, nervous excitement rattling along her shoulders and back.

"How will you tell him?"

"It will be a severe disappointment," she said, pulling sorrow
into her features. "Such hope dashed! Love, just at the edge of our
fingertips! But it simply cannot be helped. It is out of my hands. You
see, Papa has arranged it all. And I, being the dutiful daughter-"

Dominic let out a rush of air, laughing.

"The dutiful daughter," Moira repeated over his chortling, pretending to frown, "must abide by his wishes. There is no way 'round
it. Given the choice between a town sheriff, successful or not, and
the heir apparent to such a vast fortune, any man would make the
same choice for his daughter. Even Reid himself. And if he doesn't, the general shall aid him in seeing what is best. He'll be thrilled to
welcome young Clarion to town and delight in the fact that he courts
a local merchant's sister." She grinned. "We are free, Nic. Free. Reid
cannot touch us."

Nic sighed and shook his head at her. "But what of love? Do you
love this young Clarion? I'd always heard he was a bit ... stiff."

"James? I suppose some might consider him stiff." She laughed
lightly and leaned forward. "He will arrive to court me. But I doubt
I'll have him. Don't you see? He is merely a means to an end."

Nic's breath caught and he stared hard at her. "Moira, you are
playing an ever more dangerous game."

"Such is a woman's lot in life," she said airily. "We do what we
can with our humble resources."

If they hadn't been fleeing, Odessa thought she would like to make
her way slowly through these woods of aspen and pine. After hours
of walking in silence behind her friend, it felt as if their assailants
were far behind indeed, and her heart resumed a normal beat. She
wondered at her breathing, the steady rhythm of it, the absence of
clogging phlegm. She inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh river water
and thunderstorm-dampened forest loam rich upon the wind; she
relished the fact that she could breathe in and out, and that the scents
did not cause her to collapse, gasping for breath. So far she had come!
Had this happened a few months ago, she would already be dead.

"Did you know any of them?" she dared to ask Helen when they
paused for a drink from their canteens. She sank onto a boulder by
the stream, and her friend did the same.

Helen studied her. "No. You?"

"No. Do you think they were highwaymen, merely intent on
robbing us?"

"Most of the highwaymen I've heard about surprise their victims,
not try and kill them from afar. Those boys didn't want to be seen."

"No, I don't suppose they did."

"Are you going to tell me now?"

Odessa stared at her.

"Odessa, what is it you wanted me to hide?"

"Some sort of treasure map," Odessa said, giving up. "Sam
O'Toole was a sheep rancher who was in the next room at the
sanatorium, next door to me before he died. Bryce's neighbor and
friend. He left his land to Bryce and this poem to me, the clues in
verse." From there, she went on to tell Helen every detail she could
remember.

"Odessa, how do you know all this? All the details about the
claims, the sanatorium?"

"Because I went to the administrator's office and looked through
her files and books."

Helen whistled lowly. "That was a dangerous decision, Odessa. If
there is a murderer about, you are waving a red flag before the bull."

"I know it."

"Did anyone see you? Did anyone see you enter the administrator's office?"

It was Odessas turn to look to the sky. "Not in the office. But
they suspected me."

"Who?"

"The nurse and attendant."

"The night Sam was murdered ... did you see anyone near his
room?"

"No. I saw no one but Sam."

"But someone else ... they might be afraid you saw them leave?"

Odessa paused. "I suppose so."

"They know you're either onto them or have something they
want. Maybe they've gone hunting in his absence but can't find the
entrance themselves. So they wonder if you hold something that
will."

"You really think so?"

"It's logical, isn't it?"

"We have to warn Bryce," Helen said. "If these boys are after us,
it won't be long until they go after the only man who stands between
them and whatever treasure is waiting on Sam's land."

Odessas heart pounded, almost painfully.

Helen stopped and lifted her nose, sniffing the air like a wild
animal. She raised a hand of caution. "Hear that?" she whispered.

It was utterly silent. Odessa shook her head and frowned at Helen.

"Exactly," Helen whispered, getting to her feet. "Come. If you're
right, my young friend, these men have more reasons than one to
find you. And few reasons to keep you alive if they get Sam's poem.
We have to get back to town before they catch us."

"You know the way, right?"

"Oh, I know the way. The only trouble is I don't think we can
get there before nightfall."