by Ann Parker
Inez glanced around at the strange rock shapes, silent as monuments to forgotten deities. “The Garden brings out the poet in you.”
He grinned. “I am more skilled with a brush than with words, so imagine how a writer feels, surrounded by such glory.” He added, “Seeing the Garden by moonlight should not be missed. I would be more than happy to be personal guide to you ladies one of these evenings.”
Susan clasped her hands together. “That would be lovely!”
Mrs. Galbreaith cleared her throat. “Thank you for the invitation. However, I have seen the Garden aplenty by moonlight and have a full house for the next few weeks, so must regretfully decline.”
Inez said, “I cannot speak for my sister, but I would certainly enjoy that.”
Calder smiled. “’Tis decided, then. We shall make a jolly outing of it.” The mare hitched to the buggy whickered, as if volunteering for the expedition. He turned to her, still smiling, and scratched her nose. She whuffled into his glove, ostensibly looking for a treat. “I know this one,” he remarked. “She’s full sibling to my own.”
Inez looked at both horses, and realized that they indeed shared the same coloring and conformation.
He continued, “Did Mr. Morrow warn you of her wretched eating habits? Both of them, they eat anything and everything. You must watch her on the trails and during your stops that she not get into the thistles and locoweed.”
“That’s right, he told us, and I forgot,” Inez felt guilty. The pretty little roan snuffled at the bare dirt as if she might seriously consider eating the few scattered red pebbles. “Mr. Morrow even gave us a nosebag, saying we should feed her when we stopped. Poor thing, she’s probably quite hungry.”
“No matter,” said Calder. “Mine had more than his fill of grass by a stream while I painted earlier.” He opened one of his saddlebags and pulled out a full nosebag. “Shall I?” He hefted the nosebag in the air with raised eyebrows.
“That would be wonderful,” said Inez.
“Did you see Balanced Rock?” Susan asked. “We are going to stop there on the way back, and Mrs. Galbreaith has promised to take my picture while I stand by it. I shall have to send a cabinet card home to my parents. They shall be most impressed!”
Calder’s horse, already burdened down with two canvases, a small easel, and a paintbox snorted as if in agreement. After checking that both the wagon’s horse and his own mount were properly tied off, Calder took the grain-filled bag to the buggy’s mare and slipped the strap over her ears. Inez went to introduce herself to the huge roan, who after a suspicious sniff, accepted her touch. In the process of admiring the horse, which was, she decided, a truly magnificent animal, she glimpsed in the open saddlebag an odd-shaped bundle wrapped in a green, blue, and black tartan with a thin red thread running through. A partially collapsed bladder, covered with the same pattern, bulged alongside the wrapped objects.
Calder returned to his horse, and strapped the saddlebag closed. “Shall we join the others?” he suggested.
Susan had already joined Harmony, Lily, and William on the blanket. As the three of them—Inez, Calder, and Mrs. Galbreaith—moved to the picnic blanket, Inez ventured, “Were you, by chance, playing bagpipes a while ago atop a ridge?”
“Indeed I was.”
“It was quite haunting. Lovely music. But bagpipes?”
He sobered. “’Twas in honor of my brother, who came to Manitou to find health but found death instead. He was eldest and has left me head of the family. Part of my responsibilities, as I saw it, was to come here and determine what brought him down.”
Mrs. Galbreaith said, “I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I will say, however, that so many people come here, hoping to find a cure or at least treatment for their illness. Some do recover, but many do not.”
Inez pondered the almost complete lack of accent and the ease with which Calder fit into the general high-class milieu of Manitou, before asking, “Have you spent much time abroad?”
He paused, removed his hat, and, with a forearm, pushed back a tangle of black curls. Mrs. Galbreaith moved on to the party on blanket, and Inez lingered behind, curious as to his answer.
“Schooling in England, then more time in New York. As younger brother, I was encouraged to create my own future. I had hoped to be a painter. I was making some small name for myself in New York circles when I learned of Alec’s death.” He sighed. “If I’m required to return to the ‘auld hame’ and give up the life I’ve planned, I want answers as to what happened to my brother first.”
He glanced toward Susan, who was playing peek-a-boo with a delighted William. He started to move toward her. Inez stepped to block him and lowered her voice to say, “Mrs. Pace said I should talk to you. I have my concerns about the Mountain Springs House and she said you did as well. Can you tell me, what happened to your brother?”
“Mrs. Pace, is it?” He stared hard at her, then, seemed to come to a decision. He took her arm and steered her away from the blanket, saying in a louder voice, “One of the formations you must observe is Cathedral Spires, Mrs. Stannert. Do you see? Over there?” He pointed to a grouping of sharp, sheer formations. Standing so close, his hand clasped on her elbow, Inez was aware of the pleasant smell of horse, paint, and sweat that emanated from him.
“Very much like spires of churches,” Calder added, “but much grander than any made by the mere hand of man.” He then lowered his voice. “Alec arrived late last summer, drawn to this cursed place by word of Dr. Prochazka’s successes with victims of consumption and the wasting disease. My parents were all for him going to Spain for his health, some place closer to home and warm year-round, but he’d not hear of it. Still, after he arrived in Manitou and all through winter and into the spring, we heard good reports. In fact, he began talking of the place as a business opportunity.” He paused, staring out at the spires, which to Inez looked for all the world like red rock knives threatening the cloudless sky.
“I assume this all changed at some point?” Inez asked.
“His symptoms suddenly took a turn for the worse,” said Calder. “Gone were the hopeful missives. He began to write that Prochazka was a sham. That his cures were no better than the charms hawked from gypsy carts. All talk of a possible business connection vanished.” He shook his head. “I believe he put too much faith in an imperfect science. But what happened next shocked us all.”
“What was that?”
“He was turned out of the Mountain Springs House, without so much as a by-your-leave. Not the hospitality he’d been greeted with initially, I assure you.”
Inez was shocked as well. “Why?”
“I do nae know.” Distress slipped through into his speech. He heard it himself, gave her an apologetic smile, and shook his head. “After careful observation and thought, I’ve decided that the Mountain Springs House is eager to only have successes and no failures. Someone dying while ‘on the plan’ brings down the cure rate, you see? No longer can they boast without reservation, ‘Carried in on a mattress, walked out on his own!’ That’s one of their claims they make to those who are ill. With Alec, it was the opposite. He walked in on his own, and was then carried out in the dead of night.”
“Why didn’t he say something? Surely he must have protested. If it happened to him and others, well, I would imagine the reputation of the House would be a shambles.”
“He’d found another savior,” said Calder. He pivoted about to eye the happily chatting company on the picnic blanket. “In his last letters, he told us he was comfortably settled in Colorado Springs, at the Colorado Springs Hotel. A different physician was attending him, one who promised the impossible yet again. A total cure.” Calder’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Another total cure, based on a different regimen. He was content to let sleeping dogs lie.”
“A different physician? Who?”
“Ah, he was cagey about that. But something turned up that I can explain more thoroughly later. I’ll tell you this now, however. From some things he
wrote, I believe that introductions must have been brokered from someone at the Mountain Springs House,” his eyes narrowed. “That is the person I am seeking. For whoever it was led him down the road to his death. He should have come home, where he could have been treated by the family physician. Where he could, at least, have died surrounded by family who loved him.”
“He died in Colorado Springs? How can you blame someone in Manitou for that?”
“I believe my brother was silenced to keep him from revealing that the treatments were a sham. Silenced, to keep from discussing whatever business plans and overtures were made.”
“You think he was killed?”
“Easy enough,” Calder said with a shrug. “He was weak and racked with the fevers and pains of the wasting disease. Alone, far from home, would nae take much, a gentle push, too much of this and that in a bottle of ‘restorative’ or a medicinal inhalant to topple him into the grave, him and whatever he knew.”
Inez took a step back, aghast, then recovered. Really, how different is it from those who kill to secure a mining claim in the mountains or a handful of gold in the alleys?
“So, you think someone at the Mountain Springs House put your brother in touch with this other physician, who killed him either purposely or through medical ineptness?”
“I’ve no doubt of it.”
“Who?”
“I suspect Lewis. Prochazka would nae do so, and my brother would nae trust him, after all that. Prochazka aside, Lewis stands to lose the most and would have been happy to ease my brother out of the hotel. He has an oily way about him, of ingratiating himself into people’s good will. Plus he seems to have some medical knowledge and has the pulse of the medical community.”
“There’s also Mr. Epperley,” she said.
Now it was his turn to be surprised. “The hotel’s manager?”
“Also part owner, and apparently heavily invested in the hotel. You didn’t know?”
“Nae, I didn’t. This puts a different light on things.” He sounded grim. “I thought I’d figured it out, but now…”
“Mr. Calder.” Susan’s voice wafted from the picnic blanket. She was smiling at them. “Are you giving Mrs. Stannert the entire geological history of the Garden?”
He waved and called back, “Not at all, Miss Carothers. I’m saving that lecture for our moonlight adventure.”
Gazing at Susan’s beaming face, shadowed by the flapping straw brim of her summer hat, he said softly, almost to himself, “Ah, Miss Carothers. The bright star in this whole dark and sorry business of mine. Who would have guessed I would meet such an enchanting creature here, so far from, well, nearly everywhere. If it were up to me, I’d conduct the family business from Colorado. Who knows? I may yet find a way. We have many connections in New York and Boston. Colorado is not that distant, by train and telegraph.”
“Miss Carothers is my dearest friend. I would not take kindly to anyone trifling with her affections.” Inez bit her lower lip, sorry for having spoken so bluntly to one who was, by all appearances, kind and open. “Forgive me, I was out of turn.”
He slanted a glance at Inez. “Never fear, Mrs. Stannert. I may wear my heart on my sleeve, but I am, above all, a gentleman, one who appreciates outspoken, creative, intelligent women. I very much admire and salute Miss Carothers, and would do nothing to hurt her, in any way.”
Calder offered his arm to Inez, and she took it. They began walking toward the group. He added, “I will be picking up Miss Carothers and her photographic paraphernalia tonight so she can join us for dinner and take photos of the tableaux afterwards, at Mrs. Underwood’s request.” He sobered. “Why don’t you and I take a stroll around the hotel’s garden later this afternoon. Perhaps about four, when most are resting before dinner and the evening’s activities. We can talk more, and there is something I’d like to show you as well.”
“Four o’clock, it is then.” They reached the picnickers, and Inez met Harmony’s questioning gaze with a forced smile. I do hope whatever Mr. Calder has to share will shed more light on this mystery.
Chapter Twenty-nine
After an “après meal” of leftovers, taken together, everyone prepared for the return drive to Manitou.
“We’ll make quite a merry wagon train, coming into town,” remarked Susan, as she tightened the ribbons of her straw hat under her chin.
Inez held the buggy steady as Harmony climbed in, slid to the right side, and picked up the reins. Lily helped William up into the seat before getting in herself. Their horse tossed her head with an odd whinny and sidestepped first one way then the other. The shafts of the buggy shuddered, causing the buggy to sway.
Inez stopped, one foot on the buggy step. “Goodness, what has gotten into her?”
Harmony tightened the reins to stop the horse’s dancing. “Perhaps she’s eager to get home. Mr. Morrow assured me she was gentle, but had a great deal of enthusiasm.”
“Well, then, since we should get back quickly so that you and William can take your afternoon rest, we shall accommodate her,” said Inez. She stepped up, and settled in next to William, putting an arm about him. Lily, who also had her arm around William, glared sullenly at Inez, and withdrew her own hold.
“Everyone ready?” Calder asked. He’d helped Mrs. Galbreaith and Susan into their wagon after picking up the picnic things for them all, had retrieved the nosebag, and was mounted ahead of them. He trotted up to their buggy, frowning slightly. “Your little mare seems agitated.”
“The sooner we are on the move, the easier it will be, I’m certain,” said Harmony.
“Would you like me to drive?” Inez asked.
“No, thank you!” snapped Harmony. “I’m quite capable of handling a horse and buggy. I’m not an invalid.”
Inez bit her tongue, and glanced at Calder. He raised one eyebrow, but only said, “Why don’t I go ahead of you. That’ll give her a horse to follow, and she might settle a bit.” He guided his horse to the head of the party and they moved up the incline, through the Gateway, and out of the Garden.
Inez twisted around in her seat, catching a last look of the Gateway, with Sentinel Rock guarding the entrance.
She’d no sooner twisted back when their horse gave a loud, nervous snort, jumped as if she’d seen a snake, and bolted. Harmony gave a cry of warning as the buggy streaked past Calder and his mount. Inez had a flashing impression of a bucking horse, ears pinned, and Calder yanking his horse’s head away from the runaway carriage.
William let out a sharp, scared cry. Inez hugged him. Harmony fought to hold the reins, feet braced on the dash. Inez sensed she was using all her strength to keep the horse from zigzagging.
Inez shouted at Lily, “Help her!”
Then, seeing Lily’s scared eyes and frozen face, Inez instead pushed William roughly toward her. “I’ll do it! Hold him tight!”
Lily wrapped her arms tight around William.
Inez leaned over, glad that she wasn’t using her injured shoulder, and shouted at Harmony, “Hand me a rein.”
The horse began to weave. The buggy tipped dangerously from one side to the other. William was crying. Lily let out a terrified squawk. Inez tried not to see the sharp rocks lining one side of the road and the ditch off to the other. She said to Harmony, calmly as she could, “Give me the other rein, then you pull on the brake.”
Harmony moved so Inez could grab her rein. Now she held both, but the pull on the reins was crosswise. The carriage began to drift toward the ditch, the horse fighting to continue running.
Inez scooted right on the seat, nearly squashing William, and said, without taking her eyes from the road, the lathering horse, and its pinned ears, “Lily. Hold William on your lap.”
With William off the bench, she was able to sit more to the center and keep the reins straight. “Harmony, pull slowly on the brake. Slowly. We don’t want it to snap and fail.”
Sweat ran into Inez’s eyes, and her hair whipped across her face, stinging and blinding her. Somewhere
along the way, her hat ribbons had come loose and the hat had disappeared. Into the back of the buggy, she hoped. It was a nice hat. She didn’t want to lose it.
She tried to concentrate on controlling the horse and keeping the buggy upright and on the road.
With William’s sobs ringing in her ears, she said, “Lily. You must make him stop. The noise will only scare the horse more.”
The crying was immediately muffled. Inez didn’t dare look over, but she imagined that Lily’s hand was involved. She vaguely heard Lily murmuring softly to soothe William. She took the same tone, only slightly louder, for the horse. “Whoa, girl, whoa.”
She could feel the drag of the brake as Harmony engaged it ever so slowly. Inez’s right arm was beginning to burn and she couldn’t hold the rein as tautly as she wanted. The horse and buggy began pulling to one side. She struggled to bring the two reins together so she could hold them mostly with her good hand. The curve looming ahead looked nearly impossible to make.
The carriage slowed further. One front wheel dipped over the lip of the ditch, throwing Harmony hard against the arm rail, then righted again.
Hooves pounding up behind them. The pounding decelerated to a pace just slightly faster than the buggy. Calder trotted by, swung his horse in front of theirs, and slowed down further. Suddenly, without warning, the buggy horse stumbled, and stopped. Head hanging low, sides heaving, the beast let out a piteous groan. Inez hopped out of the buggy. Lily took her hand from William’s mouth, and he let out a hearty scream as if he’d stored it up special just for this moment.
“Get him out!” snapped Inez. “Take him to the wagon!”
Lily squeezed past Inez and almost stumbled in her haste to disembark. Clutching William close, she ran back to where Susan and Mrs. Galbreaith had stopped.