Breathe: A Novel of Colorado (51 page)

He moved the gun to her chin and traced it slowly to her ear and
then back again. "Nicely done. Now how 'bout you pick up a pen
and write down that poem in your pretty head?"

"And then you will leave," she said, staring into his eyes.

"That depends on you-and what old Sam had to say, exactly."

He followed behind her up the stairs to her writing desk, too
close to be polite. But he obviously didn't care. What all had Moira
endured while he had courted her? No wonder she despised the man! He followed her into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe,
watching her.

She sat down. Then with shaking hands, she pulled a sheet from
the cubbyhole of the desk, uncorked the ink, and picked up a pen.

"Don't forget a word, Odessa. Moira's going to know, someday,
the cost of disappointing me. Don't you go and do the same."

Moira. She swallowed the fear at his unnamed threat and wrote
as quickly as she could. Damp to her East, wounds to her West, land in
my mother's name ... In her mind she whispered apologies to Sam as
she wrote it out.

"Sheriff!" called the doctor from down the stairs. "We need to be
on our way. Do you have it?"

"She's working on it," he called down casually. "Our boys will
keep the men from coming around again." He left the doorframe
and moved over to her, then placed a hand on either side of her,
leaning down until his chest brushed against her hair, until she could
see him looking at her. "I chose the wrong St. Clair girl, I think. All
I wanted was a pretty bride. A woman of caliber. Substance. Moira
failed me."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry for that," she said. Within an old sheepherder's
cabin, in high hills of pinon pine ...

He reached down and pulled a curl away from her temple, fingered it. "Do you think you and I might've had a chance? Had I met
you first instead of Moira? There's something about your face, your
eyes, something about you that sticks with a man."

Bile rose in her throat. Wealth that burns, and that that is
eternal.

She bent forward and blew on the sheet, then lifted it with the tips of her fingers. "This is it," she said, shoving her chair back, forcing him to take a step. She rose and turned to face him. She hadn't
beaten consumption to let this man bully her. "Take it. Leave and
never come near me or mine again."

A slow smile grew across his face and then he gave her a hard
stare. "So you're giving me the poem, just like that. What else was
there?"

"That was it. Follow this and I'm certain you will find what you
seek. I had planned to."

"I have a better idea." He took a step forward and pulled her
closer. "I think I'll take you with me."

He ran his hand down one arm slowly, plucking Sam's poem
from her trembling fingertips. "Yes, we'll need you with us for a bit,
anyway. You can come home as soon as your husband signs over
the deed to old Sam's land." He grinned victoriously and tucked the
note into his vest pocket. "Come along," he said, pulling her roughly
toward the door.

But Bryce was there, rifle raised to his shoulder. "Evenin',
Sheriff."

Reid slowly eased his hands in the air. "Evenin', Bryce. Guess
now that we're all together, it'll save me a trip back. It's just as well."

"What're you talking about?" Bryce stepped forward until the
rifle hovered a foot from Reid's chest. Veins bulged and pulsed at his
temples. "You break into my house, threaten my wife-"

"Bryce-" Odessa began.

"Settle down there, brother," Reid said. "I didn't do anything
to your wife. I simply encouraged Odessa to return something that
rightfully belongs to the doctor."

"Lots of ways to threaten a woman, Sheriff. But I don't need to
tell you that. You're obviously well versed on the subject."

For the first time, Odessa saw murder in her kind and loving
husband's eyes. "Bryce," she said with a quavering voice, "they have
what they came for. Send them on their way."

"Yes," Reid said. "All I need is for Odessa to show us to Sam's
mine, make sure she didn't leave anything out of Sam's poem, and a
quick signature from you on the deed."

A bead of sweat rolled down from Bryce's temple, streaking
through the trail dust on his cheeks. "You're in no position to make
demands. Keep your hands up. Turn around."

Reid did what Bryce asked, turning and sighing. "You're making a big mistake, man." Keeping his hands in the air, Reid tossed
Odessa a lazy grin. "Better talk some sense into your husband
before this gets ugly."

"You're the one that brought ugliness into this house," she ground
out, moving forward to reach for the poem in his pocket.

"Don't do it, Odessa," he said, eyes narrowed.

She took it from his vest and crumpled it in her hand, just as
Bryce grabbed one gun from his holster and then the other, tossing
them to the carpet beside them. "Now move downstairs."

But Reid was staring at her. "You know that poem by heart. You
know where it is. Have you seen it? Been there already?"

Bryce grabbed his shoulder and pulled him roughly around. He
brought the gun up to his chest. "You will leave my wife and my
house now."

"Oh, I'll be back for her, McAllan, and you can be certain there
won't be anyone in my way. She has something that rightfully belongs to us. And I'll get it from her," he said with a leer back at her, "one
way or another."

Bryce whipped the rifle around and brought the butt of it swiftly
into Reid's sternum, making him gasp and bend over. Bryce jabbed
the rifle against his cheek. "Move. Now."

Slowly, the sheriff rose and put one foot in front of the other. They
reached the top of the stair, first Reid, then Bryce, then Odessa.

Odessa looked about the front entry, the parlor, in confusion.
"Bryce, there are others! Where is the doctor? The other men?"

"Nels has the doc. What other men?" he tossed over his shoulder, concentrating on the hulking sheriff before him. Nels moved
forward from the kitchen hallway, the doctor ahead of him, hands
in the air.

A shot sang through a bright, new parlor window and slammed
into Nels. He whirled and fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder.
Another came right behind it, narrowly missing Bryce's head.

"Move!" Bryce yelled at Reid, shoving him forward down the
stairs. Reid stumbled forward, then righted himself to move slowly
again. More shots came through the windows, splintering above their
heads. "Get down, Odessa!" Bryce cried out.

Nels managed to make it to his knees and return fire through the
windows, shooting blindly into the hazy light of dusk. The doctor
leaned down and cruelly rammed his fingers into the man's bullet
wound until Nels could do nothing but drop his revolver and fall,
ashen-faced, to his back.

Bryce pointed his rifle toward the doctor, but Reid turned on
him, whipping the gun from his hands. Reid backed away toward
the window and raised a fist, an obvious signal to cease firing. As ordered, the bullets stopped. Bryce moved up several steps, between
Odessa and the interlopers, as if to cover her.

Reid ran a hand across his upper lip, wiping away the sweat.
"Figure neighbors heard those shots?"

"Too far away," Bryce returned, levelly. "No need to kill us yet."

"Well," Reid said with a thin-lipped smile. "Not all of you,
anyway.

"Wait," Bryce said, when one of Reid's men raised a gun and leveled
it at his temple.

Odessa panted through her nose for breath, Reid's hand across
her mouth to keep her from screaming.

"She knows the clues that might help you find Sam's mine. But
I know the rise and fall of Sam's land," Bryce said. "Been there a
hundred times. You need both of us. And we won't help you if you
kill my man." He tipped his chin toward Nels, unconscious now on
the floor, a pool of blood spreading from his shoulder. "Bind him,
but leave him behind."

"Can't risk it," Reid said. "Take him out and get rid of him."

Odessa squirmed in his arms, crying now, as she watched two of
Reid's men grab hold of Nels and carry him out, presumably through
the back door of the kitchen. Her heart thudded, waiting for a telling
gunshot.

"We'll take you both with us. But only because I can use one of
you to get the other to do as I wish," Reid said. He leaned toward
Bryce. "After all, it'd be easier to buy the O'Toole property off a dead
man."

Bryce clamped his lips shut and moved as if to lunge toward
him, but the doctor moved in front of him. "Come now, Bryce. Let
us see this to its-"

A shot reverberated through the air, through their chests, as if it
had been shot at them.

Nels. Dear, decent Nels.

Odessas knees gave way.

"Whoa, whoa," Reid soothed in her ear, lifting her. "It's all right.
I've got ya."

Bryce turned eyes full of misery toward his wife, unable to do
anything to free her from the brute.

Doctor Morton cleared his throat. "As I was saying, let us see
this to its conclusion at last, shall we? Soon all will be in order. All in
order." He gestured toward the front door and Bryce opened it, then
moved through, the doctor directly behind him. Reid urged Odessa
forward, and on leaden feet she moved toward Ebony, in a new, small
corral near the house.

"No, no," Reid said, pulling her toward his horse. "I'll not have
you on that racehorse. My men have seen how fast she moves." He
raised a hand and his men moved out from the trees and jogged
down the hill to join them.

Where was Peter? She glanced at Bryce, silently asking the question, but he looked away. He didn't want these men to know Peter
was anywhere near. Reid mounted and leaned down to take her arm,
easily lifting her to sit behind him. "Better hold on tightly to me,
Odessa," he said, but he was looking at Bryce, taunting him. "Don't
want you falling off."

The doctor urged his horse forward. "Come, Bryce. Show us to
Sam's property and where the mine is hidden."

Bryce dragged his eyes from his wife to the doctor. "There's no
guarantee we can find it."

"I do so hope you are wrong, Bryce. Because if you are not, there
will be no reason to keep either of you alive. You'll meet some unfortunate accident; we will obtain the O'Toole property and resume
our search until we find the treasure Sam left behind. One way or
another it shall be ours. Why not allow it? Have you and Odessa not
battled for life? Why give it up now?"

"What guarantee do we have that once you have it-the entrance,
the deed-that you will leave us to live our lives?"

The doctor sighed. "Despite what you may think, Bryce, I wish
for you and Odessa to live long and healthy lives. If we can come to
an agreement as civilized people, I see no reason not to abide by it."

Bryce shifted his flat gaze to Odessa. He did not believe the
man.

They had to find a way to escape.

They moved out from the ranch gates and down the road. Odessa
prayed that someone would be coming the opposite direction, but
there was not another living soul about. She prayed that the woman
she'd seen hanging sheets outside the cabin the day Ebony had gone
tearing toward the ravine would be outside again today, but the
house appeared empty as they passed, not even a tendril of smoke
rising from the chimney.

Where are You, Lord? she asked silently, glancing up at the mountains
that towered over the valley. Why bring me so far, to let me die? Why now?
Please, Jesus. If one of us has to die this day, take me. Save Bryce. Please,
Lord. Not my Bryce. Not after all he's been through. Please Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus ... She shivered, suddenly realizing that she was crying.

"You weeping, Odessa?" Reid asked over his shoulder. He patted her
hands, hands she had reluctantly wrapped around his broad torso, only
to keep from falling off. "I could be a comfort to you, if you'd allow it."

"You are vile," she ground out. "I can't getaway from you fast enough.
Now I know why Moira couldn't stand you." She felt him stiffen, but
could not stop herself "You killed them. The DeChants. Even their little
girl. And Sam. Who else? How many have you killed, Sheriff?"