Oracle Dreams Trilogy

by Teri Barnett

  “Don’t even think about lecturing me today. I’m not in the mood,” he grumbled.

  “I can’t stand to see you wasting your life this way.” He shook his head. “For God’s sake, Connor, you look like an old man. You’re only thirty-six, the same age as me.” Jimmy put his hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Elizabeth is gone. She left a long time ago. You have to accept that and move on.”

  Connor shrugged off Jimmy’s hand. “If you don’t mind, I was headed to the saloon,” he mumbled, making his way alone down the rutted street.

  “Hey, Sheriff!” someone yelled. Connor stopped and turned around, scanning the battered wooden facades of the stores across the alley, looking for whoever was calling him. A young boy ran past.

  “Sheriff!” the boy hollered again. Another man turned around, his silver badge glinting in the sunlight.

  Connor shook his head.

  Well, I’ll be damned. Old habits sure die hard.

  He pushed the swinging door and stepped into the saloon. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. Spotting a seat at the bar, Connor strode toward it and sat down. He motioned for the bartender, a squat, stubby man named Clem Riley. Clem put down the glass he was drying and walked over to Connor. “No credit today, Jessup. You wanna drink, you gotta pay for it up front. Cash on the barrel.”

  “I want to know what you put in that whiskey you sold me last night. Were you trying to poison me? Is that it?”

  Clem’s eyes narrowed. “I ain’t got the faintest idea what yer talking about.” He turned his back to Connor. “Go home and sleep it off.”

  Connor’s hand shot out and grabbed Clem by the neck ties of his apron. He pulled the man backward until he was against the mahogany bar. “I tell you that whiskey was bad. I been seeing things. It probably would’ve killed me if I’d finished the whole bottle. I want my money back.” He shoved the bartender away from him.

  “There’s no money to be returned to you, Connor Jessup. You ain’t paid for nothing since you got fired as sheriff. I only felt sorry for you, that’s why I let you buy on credit.”

  “Take it back.”

  “Take what back? You don’t have nothing worth taking. Since your wife left, that is,” Clem snorted.

  Connor slammed his fist onto the bar, rattling the glasses of a few early morning stragglers. The other men at the bar sat silently as they watched. “Take it back that you feel sorry for me. I won’t have another man pitying me, Clem.” His voice turned into almost a whisper. “Now.”

  Connor’s right hand rested on the butt of his Colt forty-five. Clem shifted back and forth where he stood, a fine sweat breaking out on his upper lip.

  “Look, Jessup, I ain’t looking for no fight. Just go on home.” He reached under the bar with a shaky hand. “Here. Here, take this.” He handed him a half empty bottle of whiskey. “There’s nothing wrong with this one. See? Someone already drank part of it.”

  Connor eyed the bottle warily. Then his hand shot out and he grabbed it by the neck. He tucked it under his arm and stood to leave. “You better pray this one doesn’t have the same effect, Clem, or I’ll come looking for you. Only next time, I won’t be so pleasant.” He scowled at the other men and trudged out of the bar.

  Connor walked around the side of the saloon to the alley. He found an old wooden slat box, turned it over, and sat down. With his teeth, he pulled the cork out of the bottle, spitting it out. He raised the bottle and took a long draught. The drink burned his throat all the way down to his belly, but it was a good pain. A pain he enjoyed; the only feeling he had left.

  He took another swig, then another until the contents were completely drained. Several people walked past, shaking their heads in disgust, people he had once called friends. Even Mr. and Mrs. McDougall, who’d treated him like a son when he first came to Devil’s Gate. The town had hired him straight out of the army to be their new sheriff and the McDougall’s had given him room and board until he got settled. A little boy waved and smiled. Connor waved back, but the boy’s mother rushed him along.

  “He’s a drunk, Charlie,” she said. “You must stay away from men like him.”

  “That’s not a drunk. That’s the Sheriff!” the boy insisted.

  “Not anymore he’s not.” The woman turned up her nose as she went by. “Can’t take care of himself, let alone all of this town.”

  Connor let the empty bottle fall from his hand. A drunk. The words twisted in his gut like a knife.

  He eased his head back against the clapboard siding and closed his eyes.

  Maybe I should’ve let that angel take me away…

  “Connor, it’s me again. Bethany.”

  He cracked one eye open.

  The shimmering golden woman was back.

  “What d’ya want with me, Angel?” he grumbled.

  “I need your help.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because it has to do with your wife, Elizabeth. Only you can help me.”

  At the mention of Elizabeth’s name, Connor sat up.

  A stray black dog trotted up to Angel cocked his head and gave a soft ruff. Smiling, she got down on her knees and rubbed him behind his ears. The dog panted and wagged his tail until a mouse scurrying past tempted him down the street.

  Connor wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  I guess I’m not the only one who can see her.

  Wh-what did she say? Something about Elizabeth. He forced himself to his feet, trying to banish the image of his wife.

  I gotta find Jimmy. He knows about visions.

  Jimmy Brown Eagle was part Kiowa, and he was wise, and probably the only friend Connor had left. Connor stood and staggered his way to the smithy’s shop where Jimmy worked.

  Chapter 9

  “Jimmy? I need to talk to you.” Connor took a step backward as his friend brought the heavy hammer down on a red-hot piece of iron. Sparks flew, singeing his coat. He brushed them off clumsily, but they had already done their damage. “Damn, Jimmy, watch what you’re doing with that thing.”

  Jimmy glanced up at Connor and pushed the damp hair away from where it clung to his face. “Thought you wanted to be alone,” he commented, tossing the iron into a bucket of cold water. He left it there until it stopped hissing, then pulled it back out again.

  “Uh, no. What gave you that idea?”

  “Probably your stomping off to the saloon by yourself. I believe you said something like ‘I don’t need anyone to lecture me.’ Sound familiar?”

  Connor shifted uncomfortably. “Hell, Jimmy, you know I don’t mean it.” He looked the other man in the eye. “Why, I actually like it when you tell me what to do.”

  “You’re a fool.” Jimmy snorted and tossed down the tongs he was holding. They hit the anvil with a heavy clang. “What the hell do you want?”

  “Can we go somewhere private?” Connor asked, looking in the direction of David Wells, the shop owner. He was a big burly man with a penchant for minding other people’s business.

  “Sure. Hey, Dave, I’m going to take a break for a minute,” Jimmy called over his shoulder.

  David frowned. “Don’t be too long. You got a lot to do today.”

  The two men left the building and walked along the sidewalk, the old gray boards creaking under their weight. They paused. Connor leaned back against the wooden railing of the walk. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “So, what’s bothering you?” Jimmy asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Jimmy sighed. “How much have you had to drink today?”

  “Not nearly enough, I can tell you that. I still remember what she looks like.”

  “Elizabeth?”

  “No, the angel.”

  “Angel? You saw an angel?”

  “Yeah. Well, sort of. Last night, she came to me in a dream. I saw her
again this morning in my cabin and I saw her a few minutes ago in the alley beside Clem’s.” Connor took a deep breath and looked at his friend. The other man was eyeing him curiously. “I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t the liquor. That’s what I thought at first, too, but I don’t think so anymore.”

  “No, Connor, I wasn’t thinking that at all. In my father’s culture, people are visited by spirits quite often.”

  “Well, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I figured you’d understand, being Kiowa, that is.”

  Jimmy laughed. “I’d think you’d want to talk to the preacher since it was an angel you saw and not a coyote.”

  Connor spit over the railing. “You know me better than that. Preacher is more interested in damning me to Hell than helping me.”

  “So, did this ‘angel’ speak to you?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. She said she wanted my help, that I was the only one who could help her. She also said something about Elizabeth, but I don’t remember exactly what.”

  “Did this spirit have a name?”

  He closed his eyes, recalling the golden beauty… “Bethany. That’s it.”

  “Hmm. I never heard that name before. Maybe you should come to my house tonight. We’ll have a ceremony to see if we can conjure her up again.” Jimmy straightened and started to walk back to the smithy’s. “What do you say?”

  Connor didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to see her again, especially if she was an angel of death. “What if she’s coming for my soul? What if it’s time for me to die?”

  “You worry a lot about death for someone who hates religion.” He turned and looked Connor in the eye. “When you were Sheriff you faced death all the time?”

  “That was different.”

  “Why?”

  Connor scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do know Connor. I think you lost something and you have to find it again. Besides, we all have to die sometime, some of us sooner than others. But when we do die, it is the perfect time for us. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  Connor raised his arm to wave good-bye. But his hand shook so bad he had to pull it back and hold it tightly against his side. “Damn,” he muttered as he walked back toward his cabin.

  “I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Jimmy.” Connor’s eyes were wide as he took in the scene before him. He had stripped down to his pants as directed and now stood still while his friend painted markings on his body. The heat of the fire caused him to sweat profusely and the paint began to run. “It’s hot in here. Can’t we open that tent flap?”

  “No. We have to keep the steam in. That’s why it’s called a sweat lodge. You got to ease the poison out of your system. This’ll do you good, considering how much whiskey you drink.”

  Jimmy sat and motioned for Connor to do likewise on the opposite side of the low fire. Next, he dipped a gourd of water and poured it on the hot rocks on either side of the flames. The steam quickly filled up the small wigwam, making their eyes water.

  “Geez, you’d think you’d get enough of this at the smithy’s.”

  Jimmy laughed. “It’s not quite the same, friend. Now, if we’re going to call upon this angel of yours, we need to be in the right frame of mind.” He reached into a small suede pouch he wore around his waist and pulled out some dried plants.

  “Got any whiskey in there?” Connor asked. “I sure could use a drink to steady my nerves.

  “Your nerves will be fine in a few minutes. Here, take this.” He handed one of the plants to Connor.

  Connor raised it to his nose. “Doesn’t smell too good. What is it?”

  “Peyote.”

  “Peyote? You’re not going to get me to eat it, are you?” He shook his head and handed it back to Jimmy.

  Jimmy pressed the peyote back into Connor’s hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew slowly. It tastes a little bitter, but it won’t hurt you. The whiskey you drink is worse for you than these mescal buttons. Don’t you want to find out what this spirit wants?”

  Connor eyed his friend, weighing his options. On one hand, he wanted nothing to do with the drug. He’d heard stories about how some people went crazy after chewing the plant. But, on the other hand, he wanted to find out about the angel. He glanced at the button in his hand. He desperately wanted a drink… maybe the peyote wouldn’t be too bad. He hesitantly placed it on his tongue and began to chew, his gaze on his friend. “You too, Jimmy. I’m not going without you.”

  Jimmy nodded, placing one of the buttons in his mouth.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Connor said after a few moments. “I thought you said this would be all right.” He leaned over, his head dizzy, his stomach churning.

  “And it will be. The sickness doesn’t last long.”

  Connor started to speak, then stopped. He straightened and held out his hands in front of him. For the first time since Elizabeth left, they didn’t shake. Brilliant colors of red, blue, and yellow emanated from his hands. He waved his arms in the air, forming large swirls and rainbows. Jimmy splashed another gourd of water on the rocks. Out of the steam rose the figure of a woman, ethereal and wispy.

  “What do you seek, Spirit Woman?” Jimmy asked.

  “I seek Connor Jessup,” she answered.

  “Are you here for his soul?”

  She laughed, the sound like small brass bells tinkling together. Connor leaned forward, bracing himself for the reply.

  “I have no use for only his soul. I need his body, too.”

  “What do you want with me?” Connor asked. He reached toward the vision but his hand passed right through it, and she vanished before she answered. “Where’d she go?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “She’ll be back if it’s important. Spirits never rest until they have done what they came to do.”

  “She said she wanted all of me. Am I to pass into eternal damnation body and soul?” He reached for the gourd. “Here, give me that. Let’s see if she’ll come back.” Connor poured more water on the stones and, sure enough, the spirit named Bethany returned.

  Bethany drifted from the fire toward Connor. He moved away from her. She stared at him and he noticed a blue glow coming from her eyes. He felt a slight pressure, right in the middle of his chest, as if her eyes were pushing at his heart. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

  “Trying to help you, but I can’t. You need to come to the portal.”

  “The portal?” Connor repeated.

  “It’s a place between the planes. It’s where I am. It’s where Elizabeth was. Come, Connor Jessup. You needn’t worry.” Bethany started to fade.

  “Before you go, Spirit Woman, where is this ‘portal’ of which you speak?” Jimmy asked.

  “Between the two straight rocks just outside Devil’s Gate. Please hurry. I’ll lead you the rest of the way.”

  Jimmy nodded. “We will come.”

  “Thank you,” Bethany murmured as she left.

  “What do you mean ‘we will come’? Are you crazy? She wants to take me away.”

  “You have to follow the vision in order to understand it,” Jimmy replied. “For now, rest. Sleep awhile. Before sun up, we’ll travel to this place between the rocks to see what lies ahead for you.”

  Connor shook his head. “I don’t know about all of this, but I have no choice. She’ll keep plaguing me if I don’t go. If I’m lucky, maybe the angel will tell me what she knows of Elizabeth before sending me to Hell.”

  Chapter 10

  A coyote howled in the distance, calling to the setting moon. Already, the orb was low in the west while a soft lavender and yellow glow rose in the east. Connor and Jimmy scrambled over the rocky, barren terrain that lay outside Devil’s Gate. Ev
ery so often, a prairie dog would scurry past looking for breakfast. Connor laughed as one of the dogs stopped and stared, as if daring him to fight. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a flask. He took a long drink, then put it back.

  “For God’s sake, the sun’s not even up yet,” Jimmy commented.

  “Doesn’t count.”

  “What doesn’t count?”

  “I haven’t been to bed. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still night. I can drink all I want.”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Somehow your reasoning doesn’t surprise me. You know, if you want to die so badly, why don’t you just use that gun of yours? It’d be a helluva lot faster.”

  “I don’t want to die, Jimmy.” Connor stopped walking. He stared hard at the other man. “The whiskey helps to chase the nightmare of Elizabeth’s leaving away. It makes living bearable.”

  Jimmy patted him on the shoulder. “I only wish there was another way.”

  Connor looked out in the distance. “I think those are the rocks the angel was talking about. What do you think?” About half a mile away, almost to the mountains, were two tall rock formations. The men started walking again.

  “Those were the ones I was thinking of when she spoke last night,” Jimmy answered. “I wonder if she’s there.”

  “You know, part of me is afraid she will be, but I’m also afraid she won’t. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. In a way.”

  The men continued on through the desert in silence. When they reached the rocks, the sun was over the horizon and could be seen between the two stone towers. Its heat beat down on their faces, partially obscuring their vision.

  Then, as if she stepped out of the sun itself, Bethany emerged, surrounded by a golden shimmer of light. It passed through her; the rays bending and casting streaks of color on the desert floor. She walked toward them. Connor and Jimmy took a step backward.

  “I’m glad to see you. I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Bethany remarked, stopping about five feet away from the men.

  “I want to know about Elizabeth before you take me away,” Connor stated.