Breathe: A Novel of Colorado (53 page)

Odessa stayed in her husband's arms, down on the ground, but her
eyes were on the doctor. The man who had healed her. Brought her life.
And others death. Blood rapidly spread across his white shirt and his
hand was inside his jacket lapel where he reached for his handkerchief;
he was unarmed. "I'm a doctor," he said pitifully, looking into her
eyes. "This was not what I had imagined ... I only-"

He did not finish his next sentence. His eyes stilled and grew
blank.

Odessa shivered and leaned against Bryce.

After a moment, he accepted a man's hand up and then lifted his
wife to stand close to him. It was then that Odessa recognized who
had come to their rescue.

"Peter. God bless you, man," Bryce was saying. "And Sheriff
Olsbo. How ..."

"You all right, Mrs. McAllan?" The older man stared at her with
kind eyes from beneath bushy brows. "Up at the Shaefers' today,
they said they'd seen some men about that they didn't know, for days
now, up on the bordering hills. After the trouble at the DeChants',
we thought we'd better look into it. We ran across Peter, hightailing
it from the ranch, bent on seeking help. Appears he was right, since
there was a kidnapping taking place-near murder to boot."

"Nels?" Bryce asked hopefully.

Peter shook his head and glanced away. "Gone," he said with a
shaking voice. "Saw them take him out back and shoot him. Knew
it wouldn't be long before they did the same to you." He managed to
look at his boss again.

"Glad you kept them from doing so," Bryce said, reaching out
to clap him on the shoulder. "We won't forget Nels. We'll honor his
memory, what he did. I promise you, man."

"He'd like that," Peter said with a nod, his voice high and thin,
as if fighting tears.

"It's Reid Bannock who will pay for his death," Bryce ground
out. He spoke to Sheriff Olsbo, but Odessa knew Reid could hear.

"That's SheriffBannock," Reid called. He wore iron cuffs behind
his back and stood beside one of his men. The other was dead. The
deputy led both to a wagon just pulling up, down the road.

"I'll be out before morning," Reid said over his shoulder. "General
Palmer will see to it."

"I don't think so," said Sheriff Olsbo. "General Palmer is a good
man, a righteous man. I don't believe his Christian upbringing will
allow him to look the other way. He'll want you to face justice."

"There's legal rationale for almost everything I've done here
today," Reid said.

Sheriff Olsbo ducked his head to the side. "You'll get the benefit of assumed innocence, Mr. Bannock, same as anyone. But as a
sheriff, I think you'll see the problems you face-breaking into the
McAllans' house, kidnapping them, threatening them."

"Oh, that wasn't me. That was the doctor who arranged that."

"And he was all alone on that call, eh? Rest assured, we'll get the
story straight from everyone before we're done."

"I'll want a lawyer from the Springs," Reid said, as they forced
him into the back of the wagon.

"Yes, yes. We'll get you any lawyer you want. The truth will bear
out," returned Olsbo.

Reid laughed under his breath and leaned back against the boards,
as if making himself comfortable. He eyed Odessa and laughed softly
again. "In time. Yes, sir. In time, it will." He laughed yet again, no
sign of defeat in his eyes as the deputy whipped the horse and turned
the wagon around on the road. Was it nothing but bravado? Or did
Reid still hold some unseen upper hand? Bryce wrapped a protective
arm around Odessa and together they looked up at the sheriff as he
mounted his horse.

"You two come in tomorrow. I'll get a clerk to come by and take
down your statements."

"We will," Bryce said.

"Think they were acting on their own? Or are there others we
should question?" The sheriffs eyes slid from Bryce to Odessa and
back again.

"As I see it, it's just these two," Bryce said. "The doctor had the
access. The sheriff had the power. Odessa was attacked in the mountains
above the Springs before we were married, and those who attacked me
... I think they were hired men. Working for cash, not long term."

He looked to Odessa for confirmation and she agreed with a
nod.

"Still. After you testify, you might want to take this pretty bride
and head out on a honeymoon. Leave here for a spell while things
simmer down. Give me a chance to ferret out any other no-accounts
in the tunnels. Don't want you two in danger."

"I appreciate that, Sheriff. We'll talk about it more tomorrow in
town?"

"Tomorrow in town." With that, he gave his deputy the signal.
Odessa turned away before she would see Reid Bannock and the dead
doctor, laid out in the back of the wagon, once more. She wanted
them out of her mind as fast as possible.

The next morning in Colorado Springs was unusually warm. Most
nights, the temperatures cooled to "good sleeping weather," as their
father had put it, but last night had remained uncommonly hot.
They met up in the kitchen. Nic silently poured coffee from the tin
pot into Moira's tin mug. The china gift set from Reid had been sold
with other unwanted items at the store. "You sleep as well as I did?"
he mumbled.

"Probably," she said, running her fingers through a mass of
tangled blonde hair. "Not that I would've slept well even if it had
been cooler. Too much going through my mind."

"Mine too. You all packed up? Ready for the train station?" He
took a seat at the small dining room table and she took one across
from him.

"Ready. The boys will come by? Get the rest of our crates and
put them in storage?"

"That's the agreement."

"Think we can trust them?"

Nic let a slow smile spread across his face. "Do we care?"

Moira matched his smile and reached across the table. She shook
her head. "I've never felt this free in all my life, Nic. Never."

"Me neither." He raised a brow. "Think we'll find the happiness
Odessa has?"

"I hope so. Can't get closer to it unless we try, right?"

"Right."

"I'll miss you."

He pulled his hand from hers. "You'll be just fine, Sissy. And
we'll keep in touch through Odessa. We'll always make sure she
knows where we are, all right? She's the settled one. She'll be our
touch point."

"Always."

They gazed at each other for a second longer, then Nic, uncomfortable with the tension, shoved back his chair. "We'd better go and dress.
Our train will be here in two hours and I won't miss it waiting on you."

"I'll be ready," Moira said, rising too.

They separated, dressed, and Nic gathered Moiras remaining
trunk and carried it outside. He closed the door of the cottage and
they stood there a moment, each lost in their own silent good-byes
and thoughts of what had transpired here for them. Then they turned
together, silently climbed into the carriage for hire-their own had
been sold-and watched as the Springs disappeared past the rolling
wheels, each wondering if they'd ever be back.

"This is good, right," Moira said, taking his hand again. "Right,
Nic?"

"Right." But he was sure his stomach churned as much as hers.
Was she ready to be on her own? Without him to watch over her?
What would their father have said?

She giggled. "Why do I feel a bit like the prodigal, heading out
with my fat purse?"

"Because we're making our own way, not Father's way," he said
quietly. "Let's make him proud in the long run, all right?"

"All right."

They reached the train station, and Nic paid a man to carry their
luggage to the train. In twenty minutes they were aboard and settled.
"Leaving here feels better than arriving," Moira said.

"I'll never forget that day," he said, leaning over her to look out
the window. "We almost lost her. It was worth it, coming here. Just
to see Dess safe."

"Yes, it was."

They stared out the window together, ignoring the other passengers who crowded in across from them. Their minds were on Denver,
where they would separate. Moira was heading west to San Francisco
to try her luck on the stage there. Dominic would travel east to New
York and beyond. He planned to sail on the first ship that caught his
fancy. Bryce's paintings had whetted his appetite to experience the
sea-not just the transatlantic crossing they had taken as a family to
London-but deeper, farther exploration.

"She'd have our heads if she knew we were doing this," Moira
said.

"No," Nic said, turning to look into his sister's blue-green eyes.
"She would understand the need to breathe freely, make each lungful
our own."

"She'll fret, once she knows."

"Yes. But it will be all right. Someday, someway, we'll all see one
another again."

"Oh, I hope so. The world feels a bit big now that I'm heading
out into it."

"I know," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "But doesn't that feel
exactly right? All my life, I've wanted something more, something
bigger, something I couldn't name. Now I get to go and find it."

"I hope you do, Brother. I hope we both do."

Odessa and Bryce sat on the back porch of their house, watching the
sunset spread brilliant peach and pink streams of light into the pale
blue heavens above the mountains. He wrapped an arm around her,
resting it on the back of the chair. "Maybe we ought to head out on
that honeymoon 'bout now. Get away. Catch our breath."

"No, Bryce. You're needed here on the ranch. Get the horses
shipped come fall, let me get my house finished and settled, and we'll
go to Mexico or California. Right now, I just want to stay here, with
you. Settle into life as Mrs. McAllan."

He pulled her closer and kissed her head. "You're not afraid?"

"No," she said, really thinking it through. "I'm at peace. Morton
and Reid were the ones with the power and incentive to try to get
Sam's mine. They had the access. No one else. I think it ends there."

He considered her words and then nodded. "All right. But I
don't plan on ever seeing you that close to death again. We've gone
through too much, journeyed too far to take such chances."

"Our life is not our own," she said, leaning her head on his
shoulder. "That's what God taught me through that whole ordeal.
That every day is to be celebrated, but our lives ... it's not up to us,
Bryce. I'm thankful for each hour here with you. But I will trust and
praise God, regardless of what comes, regardless of how many hours
we have left. We are His, first."

"Amen," he said, raising an eyebrow. He smiled.

She did too. "Amen."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the sky
change. "Did you notice it, even after all that commotion?"

She shook her head. "What?"

"Your breathing. And mine. No attacks, no relapse. Still right
as rain."

Odessa put her hand to her chest and smiled. "Not a wheeze nor
a whistle," she said in wonder. "I'm breathing better than I have in
years. Even after all that excitement."

"There's more ahead."

"What do you mean?"

"Been looking at that Gaelic Bible of Louise O'Toole's."

She edged away from him to look him in the eye. "You know
where the mine is?"

"Might. Something to explore, anyway. If we want to." He caught
her questioning expression. "We're ranchers first, Odessa. Do we have
the stamina to be miners, too? Do we want to? Or would we rather
leave it? Take what we have rather than chase what we might?"

She thought over his words for a moment. "I kind of like that
it's there if we want it. Wealth that burns and that that is eternal. I'd
like to know what Sam meant by that phrase, at least. Is that a clue
or a warning?"

"Maybe both," Bryce said.

But as they sat there together a while longer, watching the last
vestiges of the setting sun behind the Sangre de Cristos, Odessa knew
that for now, being here, beside her husband, unmoving, abiding,
was exactly where she wanted to remain.