Purgatory (Colorado series)

by Denise Moncrief

  “What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

  “I mean…I’m not going to tell you.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction to her stand. She didn’t want to lie to Brian, but she didn’t want to tell him the truth either, fearing Steve might be in danger if she did.

  “What do you mean you’re not going to tell me? Chris…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I think I know.” She glared at him. “Where have you been?” He looked and sounded frustrated with her.

  She released the breath she was holding. Clearly, he wasn’t going to push the issue. “Out. I was out. Minding my own business.” Her stomach churned. She didn’t want to talk any longer. “It’s time for you to go.”

  “This discussion is far from over.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She stood next to the open door, willing him to leave. He left without saying goodbye.

  By the time he left, it was nearly six o’clock. She spent the next few restless hours thinking and pacing. If Steve had lied, he must have had a reason. She couldn’t let the incident go. Even if the meeting proved humiliating for her, she had to see him again and give him a chance to explain. Tonight. She needed to know the truth, not from Jeff Osborne but straight from Steve.

  It was ten-thirty by the time she quit mulling it over and wearing a hole in the carpet. Had he gone to sleep yet? In front of the mirror, she pushed her wayward hair around until it was halfway presentable. She grimaced. Whom was she kidding? She was a disheveled mess. She gave up trying to make it better.

  In another heartbeat, she rushed out of her room and down the hall, pausing in front of Steve’s door before she changed her mind, hesitant and anxious, second-guessing her decision. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and knocked on his door. After a long interval, the door opened, revealing a very bleary-eyed Steve.

  “I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  He didn’t answer; she obviously had. All the things she planned to say stuck in her throat at the sight of the expectation on his face. Instead of saying what she intended, she blurted out a farfetched suggestion. “You…ummm…mentioned a trail outside Telluride. You know…the one out to the falls. I was wondering…” Did he even remember suggesting the hike? If he did, it didn’t appear he was going to make her feeble attempt at arranging an outing easier for her.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea,” she muttered. “I can understand why you’d take back your invitation. I wasn’t very nice to you today.” Boy, that was an understatement. She hoped her sincerity would thaw him a little. But it didn’t appear a warm front was on the horizon. His expression remained unreadable.

  He stared over her head at some far distant point of reference. Unable to read his mood, she decided she had made a grave mistake again. She started to back away when he answered her. “I forgot about that…but…I think that would be a good idea. It’s time we cleared the air about some things.”

  His dead-serious frown caused her heart to quake. “I agree,” she answered, contrition flooding her like a tidal wave. Couldn’t he see how sorry she was that she hadn’t waited for explanations?

  “I can pick you up around six tomorrow morning.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m only six doors down.” She indicated the direction with a wave of her hand. He lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a long story. If you don’t mind, I’d rather wait until tomorrow to tell it. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  He nodded his agreement, turned, and closed the door in her face. She wanted to pound her fist on the wall. Her behavior that afternoon had been extreme. She needed to explain that to him, to try to make him understand, but was he no longer in the mood to listen?

  Chapter Thirteen

  At first sight of Chris waiting for him in the lobby, suspicion scrabbled across the space between them. Steve suspected her of criminal misconduct whether she remembered her culpability or not, and he was certain she suspected him of willful deception. Not a good beginning for a pleasant little outing.

  Her closed expression revealed her edgy distrust. He motioned her toward the doors. An undercurrent of unspoken communication pulsed in the air as they made their way across the parking area. Today’s outing could be either productive or disastrous. He didn’t know whether to approach the day with anticipation or dread.

  Reddish gold sunlight streaked across the far eastern horizon. He followed two paces behind her, watching every tense movement she made. Her stiff back relaxed. She paused and turned her face to the morning sky, stretching her arms upward toward the heavens, as if embracing the coming day. He smiled at her non-verbal sentiment. She could be a little dramatic. So could Carol. The similarity made his heart ache.

  She glanced over her shoulder and cleared her throat self-consciously. He rubbed his lower jaw, turning his head away so she wouldn’t see his amused reaction. Carol would have threatened to slap him silly for his smirk. Or at least, threatened to do him bodily harm. But she didn’t mean it. She never meant it. The woman he married concealed a sentimental heart behind a sassy façade.

  As they neared his rental, Chris stopped in her tracks. He skidded to keep from plowing into her. Of course, a Jeep would have bad associations, if not memories. Aware of his supposed blunder, he stumbled over an apology. “We can borrow Jeff’s truck if you’d rather…”

  “I’m all right. I can’t live my entire life in fear.” Her response smacked of defiant resolve. She slid into the passenger seat as the previous moment’s hesitation disappeared. It occurred to him that she viewed this outing as potentially dangerous for her. That made two of them.

  It promised to be a gorgeous drive past Silverton, through Ouray, around the corner at Ridgway, and into Telluride. They traveled Highway 550, the Million Dollar Highway, so named for the silver and gold content in the crushed rock used to build the road. He drove out of Purgatory toward the mountains to the north. The only conversation was an occasional comment on the scenery.

  At the summit of Molas Pass, they stopped, exited the Jeep, and climbed the short distance to the observation area. He jumped on top of a bench to better view the surrounding mountains. A solid wall of granite stretched from his far left and continued to his far right, creating a bowl-shaped valley cluttered with large boulders and patches of ice in the crooks and hollows. The branches of trees that edged the barren alpine landscape swayed in the stiff breeze with the weight of the last snowfall.

  “I’ve taken a lot of pictures while I’ve been here,” he commented with his eye plastered to the viewfinder. “Remind me to show them to you.” He was hoping to develop a pictorial history of their time together, attempting to get Chris in as many of the shots as possible without being obvious. Knowing that time faded memories, he hoped the pictures would help him recall the finer details of the day. He lowered the camera so he could absorb the scene.

  “I’d love to see them,” she answered with no hint of enthusiasm in her tone.

  He glanced at her, smiling slightly. Did she want to see them? Or was she just being polite? He could never tell with Chris.

  Her expression remained impassive until she returned a brilliant smile. Her skeptical attitude melted away in the wake of that breathtaking expression of happiness. It was a priceless moment. He file saved the memory.

  Once back on the road, they passed Silverton, the train terminal visible from the highway. Her eyes remained on the depot as they climbed out of the valley and left Silverton behind. She exhaled a contented sigh, and he wondered if she was remembering the details of their train trip just as he was. A slight smiled played around the corners of her mouth. He was becoming addicted to her smiles, savoring them like sweet morsels due to their rarity.

  He detested the thought of leaving her here in Colorado with only harsh memories of him. That’s why he suggested the train trip, that and the desire to be with her, to find out more about her. It pleased him they shared a few pleasant moments, like their climb up the Purgatory trail. That day had
n’t ended badly. In fact, it had ended very amicably, establishing their mutual love of hiking and the outdoors.

  But he doubted she would remember him fondly. She would associate him with too many memories that were painful for her.

  Outside of Silverton, they crossed Red Mountain Pass. The road narrowed and curved, so Steve had to concentrate on his driving. Chris pointed out the access road to Ophir Pass, describing the road to him as breath-taking and treacherous with gorgeous views and steep drop-offs. She told him of hairpin curves that required negotiation one inch at a time. The thought of driving the pass quickened his pulse.

  “Brian and I did that a couple of years ago. I didn’t want to get into the Jeep, but he talked me into it. I think he was trying some sort of aversion therapy. Is that what they call it when you try to make someone do what they’re afraid of, like getting back on a bicycle when you’ve fallen off? Anyway, I’m so glad he did, because the ride was awesome. Then we—” She closed her mouth tight.

  What was she thinking? Was she afraid he was jealous of Brian Parker? Actually, his insides did contract at mention of their shared experience. Steve couldn’t deny his jealousy, but he wasn’t about to let it show. He wasn’t sure he had the right. In fact, he wasn’t sure of anything that concerned Chris.

  On the downhill side of the mountain, abandoned mines dotted the landscape beside the road between Silverton and Ouray. Red rocks lined the streams along the road, stained from the iron ore content that seeped into the water from run-off and tailings. She pointed out one mine, sheltered from the elements and still intact, snuggled into the curve of a switchback. The ruin was striking with dilapidated boards and a rusty, tin roof.

  Ouray nestled into the valley at the base of the mountain. It was a picturesque town, not unlike Silverton. The one major difference was the paved roads. Although it was tempting to do so, they didn’t stop, but kept moving up the valley toward Ridgway, following the Uncompaghre River. Majestic snow-capped mountains towered above them on both sides of the road. Livestock ranged in green pastures at the foot of sheer, red cliffs.

  It was almost nine-thirty as Steve turned the Jeep and traveled parallel with the Sneffels range. He stopped several times to take pictures, promising to email them to Chris. She didn’t comment on the promise of future interaction between them, smiling benignly at him.

  As they drove into Telluride, her mood seemed to change.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “How much I’m going to miss you when you leave.”

  Her upfront confession startled him. Her simple statement played honestly, the expression on her face dead serious. He inhaled, sucking in as much oxygen as he could in the thin mountain air.

  “It’s all right.” She smiled. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  “Most of the time, I don’t know what to say. There are so many things I want to tell you, but I just don’t know how to start.”

  She opened her mouth as if to comment, but they were already in Telluride, so finding a parking spot distracted them. They found the tourist information center on the main drag of Telluride and stopped to gather some information about local trails. Soon, he was searching for a place to park for the day, discovering a public lot at the end of Mahoney Drive.

  They prepared for their hike without uttering a word. He handed her a hip pack to carry her water bottle. Thinking ahead, he had packed some munchies in a backpack. She didn’t seem to give these preparations a thought, but he did.

  He and Carol had hiked in the Blue Ridge Mountains before they married. The shared experience bonded them. It was their thing. They enjoyed several other hikes after they married and before Carol discovered she was pregnant. They had packing for the trail down to an art. If Chris would recall even this small facet of their relationship, it would be a start. If she could just remember one small thing that would convince her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chris hoped Steve wouldn’t detect the feeling of despair that assailed her. The day was young, but it was getting away from her. Every moment they shared brought her closer to the inevitable day he would leave Colorado, possibly never to return.

  How could this sincere, gentle man deceive her? She didn’t think he could. Without a doubt, there were many more layers to this story than she imagined. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, believe he hurt her on purpose. He was a man dealing with a tragic and traumatic loss. Sorrow wound its way through the warp and weave of his life, and the current situation pulled at the dangling, loose threads with reckless abandon, unmindful of the damage it caused both of them. This surely was the explanation for his behavior, and nothing more.

  The trail drew her away from her inner thoughts. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. As they climbed higher and higher up the Bear Creek trail, the ski resort town of Telluride in the valley below became smaller and smaller. The steep trail switched back through glades of aspen, pine, and juniper. The crisp, clear air smelled of freshly fallen snow.

  She glanced up at the tall man hiking the well-worn trail in front of her. It seemed right that he would take the lead. When will I ever be this content again? This seems so normal, natural, and easy. Why can’t this feeling go on forever? She resented the inevitability of his absence from her life.

  She sensed his restlessness, his need to get on with his life. His past had pulled him down too long. Surely, he wanted this part of his life to end, but she just couldn’t see how she could be in his future. Once he left, he would be lost to her.

  They were about a mile into the hike when they stopped at a small area many hikers used to rest and enjoy the sounds of Bear Creek in the valley below. Steve gulped a long drink from a bottle of water and then offered it to Chris. She followed his lead and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, sighing with contentment.

  As he leaned on a large boulder, he stared across the valley and plucked at a nearby shrub. “Why are you staying at the Inn?”

  “Someone broke into my house and trashed it.”

  “What?” His head popped up. Concern lined his face, gathering between his eyes and tightening around his mouth. His jaw flexed and relaxed, and then flexed again.

  “Nothing was stolen. It was sort of odd.”

  “That is odd.” He waited for further explanation.

  “Brian thought someone was trying to scare me.”

  “Why would he think that?” His concern turned into restrained alarm.

  “Because there’s no other apparent motive. And then there are the phone calls—”

  “What phone calls?” He stood and stared into her eyes. The anxious tone of his voice leapt at her. His reaction satisfied her. He knew nothing of the harassment she’d been receiving.

  “Someone has been leaving messages on my answering machine. It’s nothing. Brian is overreacting.” Now that she was certain he wasn’t involved, she attempted to diminish the situation.

  “Not if someone broke into your house.” He waited as if expecting her to rebut him, but she didn’t. “What is Parker doing about it?”

  “Doing about it? What can he do? He’s got other things on his mind.”

  “Like what?” The vein in his neck pumped with agitation.

  “The murder.”

  “What murder?”

  “Some guy. Out on the highway.”

  “So he doesn’t have time to protect you from…whoever did that.” He sounded angry on her behalf. Warmth suffused her at the bold way he defended her.

  But she had to defend Brian. He had always protected her. “That’s why he made me stay at the Inn. Besides, I think I know who’s making the calls. He’s not a nice man, but I’m pretty sure he’s harmless. And the burglary… He probably just didn’t want my junk.” Was now the right time to suggest Jeff’s involvement? But he pressed on before she could go there.

  “So you don’t think the two things are connected?” Skepticism edged his words.

  “
I don’t know. Probably not. I think two different people did this. But maybe they know each other.” The thought startled her even as the words exited her mouth, making so much sense she was surprised she hadn’t considered it already. Did Jeff know the mysterious man who challenged her in front of Francisco’s?

  “No wonder Parker didn’t want me to—”

  “He didn’t want you to what?”

  She didn’t like how her mind filled in the blank for him.

  Steve seemed to know how to continue. “He thought you should stay away from me, didn’t he? Maybe he thinks I’m the one doing those things to you.”

  She winced. He was close to the truth. Brian had suggested the possibility.

  “Is that what he said?” What did Brian tell Steve?

  “No.”

  She shook her head. “Then, I’m sure he doesn’t.”

  “Really?”

  “He’d already talked to you…you know, about my hissy fit…before he found out about the break-in. I’m sure he told you to stay away from me for an entirely different reason. Probably because I thought you lied to me. But, that’s not his choice, is it? I mean, isn’t that my choice?”

  Steve smiled, a tight little smile of restrained amusement. “I agreed with him.”

  “You did? Then why are you here?”

  “Changed my mind. Stubborn, I guess.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re stubborn then. I know things are…you know…weird between us, but I enjoy your company.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I think you know that.”

  “I was hoping.” He stared across the clearing toward the creek. “You wanna take the path down to the creek?” An odd tone permeated his question.

  “Sure.”

  He turned toward her and her breath caught in her throat. The emotions that flitted across his features were easily interpreted. Attraction. Need. Desire. Longing for all that could possibly be if there wasn’t the unsolved mystery of his wife’s disappearance leapt across the short space that separated them. Barely had she glimpsed his raw, unveiled emotion before he turned his head away. Her stomach flipped. A pain ripped through her chest. She pressed her fingers to her temple, fearful that another flashback was imminent.