HT02 - Sing: A Novel of Colorado

by Lisa T. Bergren

  All was in place for Reid Bannock’s gang.

  He hauled Moira, tied and gagged, to a narrow crevice that allowed her a view of the whole canyon. “Watch and see a master at work. I’m about to show a man that no one keeps me from what I want.”

  She’d heard another say they were about five miles west of Westcliffe. What man was Reid talking about? For a moment, she feared that he spoke of Bryce, but then she saw a stagecoach rumble around the corner. “First Colorado Bank” was painted on the side, and there were two armed guards atop it, rifles at the ready. Now the bits of conversation she’d heard over the last couple of days made sense. It was a trap; they were laying a trap.

  “Not yet,” Reid muttered, holding up a hand, eyes on the stage below them. Moira looked down the rim of the canyon and saw the two men lying down, keeping the stagecoach in their gun sights. Two others emerged on horseback from the woods below, shooting and hollering. A guard sitting beside the driver fired back at them, but they pushed on, riding low in their saddles. “Wait,” Reid whispered.

  Moira could almost feel the two riflemen’s frustration. One glanced Reid’s way, wondering if he had missed his boss’s signal.

  “Not yet …”

  “There,” he breathed through a smile as Sheriff Olsbo and his two deputies closed in, riding hard to catch the men who were attacking the stage. “Perfect. Wait … stick to the plan.”

  The plan. Moira knew this part. Wait until the lawmen were right before them, then kill them all.

  Two more of Reid’s men emerged from the forest, now sandwiching the lawmen between them. The first two turned from the stage and fired at the sheriff and his men.

  Reid brought his hand down and his riflemen each squeezed off a shot. Moira gasped. Both guards atop the stagecoach fell, one to the ground, the other against the driver, knocking him to one side.

  The men took aim again.

  No, no, no, Moira moaned inwardly.

  “Now they’ll take out the sheriff and the deputies,” Reid said in her ear. He was grinning. She could hear it in his voice. But she couldn’t tear her eyes from the awful scene playing out below.

  Both men fired again. Again, two men fell below.

  The second deputy, surrounded, put up a hand in surrender and pulled to a stop.

  Another Bannock man, one gifted with horses, closed in fast on his own mount, shot the driver, then climbed atop the nearest of the bank team and gradually brought them to a halt—even before they reached the end of the canyon.

  Reid laughed. “Perfect,” he said, rising and clapping. “Bravo!”

  Moira watched as the larger lawman, wearing a sheriff’s badge, clearly injured, rolled on the ground and reached for his revolver.

  One of Bannock’s men shot him in the head.

  The two others who held the surrendered deputy looked up the cliff face, searching for Reid. When they spotted him, he nodded. Once. And then they shot the third lawman.

  “Perfect,” Reid said again. “You two, go down and help them ransack the wagon. Make sure it looks like a robbery. And of course, bring the money too. You all get a share of it.”

  He climbed up a step and then reached down. “Come along, Moira. You shall be key to our next step.”

  Bryce’s smile was fading and he was running his hand through his hair as a messenger rode away down the dusty trail. “Bryce?” Odessa said, staring after the man as she came out onto the porch.

  He glanced at her and gestured to the two rocking chairs. “You may want to sit down.”

  She froze. “Nothing good ever follows that direction.” She remained standing.

  Bryce licked his lips and moved to brace a hand against a porch post. He stared out at the hills for a moment, then back to her. “Sheriff Olsbo and his two deputies were killed yesterday.”

  Odessa sank into the chair then, in spite of herself, Samuel suddenly as heavy as a lead weight on her shoulder. “Sheriff … Olsbo?” She pictured the man, big and lumbering, like a circus bear. With keen eyes, and a caring heart. And his wife—Odessa reached up a hand to her heart. “How? How’d it happen?”

  “A bank coach robbery. Sheriff got wind of it, tried to head it off, but he and both deputies were killed. The bandits made off with the money, leaving them and the coach driver and guards all dead. Six in all.”

  “A robbery,” she repeated. Six lives, lost. Six families, now grieving. All for a meager sum of money. She sighed heavily and glanced at Tabito. He sat on the porch rail, listening to the conversation unfold. Then she looked back to Bryce. “What did the messenger want?”

  “To tell us what had happened, and beware that there might be highwaymen about. And now, the county is largely unprotected. It will take a while to find a lawman to fit Sheriff Olsbo’s shoes. Some folks in town—they wanted to know if I’d be interested in filling in, temporarily.”

  Odessa looked at him with alarm. “What did you say?”

  “Said I had enough to look after here,” he said. He paused, watching her and Samuel. “I’m not going anywhere far from you, Dess.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for that.” She rose, then, feeling the need to busy herself, make use of the nervous energy that ran through her body. “Will there be a memorial service? I imagine there will be.”

  “Tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Then I’d best be baking, to take something to the families. Sheriff Olsbo and his men were well liked, well respected.”

  Tabito rose suddenly, hand going to his holster. He looked down the road, and Odessa’s eyes followed his gaze. There was a large man, with dark, wavy hair, coming down the lane. He was hunched over, as if ailing—

  “Go inside, Dess,” Bryce said, moving slightly ahead of Odessa.

  Tabito hurried down the stairs and then ran down the lane. The man pulled his horse to a stop, about two hundred yards away. The men spoke for a minute and then he resumed his approach, Tabito trotting beside him.

  Odessa and Bryce could tell by Tabito’s face that this man was not a foe but rather a friend in trouble. She stayed on the porch.

  Bryce walked down the stairs and took the man’s reins when he pulled to a stop. “What troubles you, man?”

  He gave them a weak smile. “I came from Leadville.” He panted, reaching for his shoulder, that they all could now see was bandaged. Blood seeped through the thick gauze. “Name’s Daniel Adams.”

  “Leadville?” Bryce asked. “That’s a five-, six-day ride.”

  “Three if you don’t stop …” He moved to dismount and then faltered, obviously terribly weak. Bryce rushed to take his arm and assist him down, and Odessa hurried inside for a glass of water and a couple of hard rolls.

  When she returned, the man was in her chair on the porch. He took a long drink and then closed his eyes for a moment, before studying her. “She has your eyes, your sister,” he said.

  “M—my sister? You know Moira?”

  “I do,” he said. Sorrow tinged his eyes, and Odessa felt a shiver of fear. “My name’s Daniel Adams. I met your sister and her beau on a ship coming from England.”

  “She’s here? In the States?”

  “She’s here, in Colorado.”

  Odessa held her breath. Clearly, he had something else to say and from the expression on his face it wasn’t good news.

  “She took the stage name of Moira Colorado, and had been singing in small mountain opera houses across the Divide. But then she came to Leadville—”

  The name of the town finally connected, and Odessa drew in a sudden breath as Daniel’s eyes met hers. He nodded once. “She and I were reacquainted. But she also came across Reid Bannock again.”

  “Bannock,” Bryce whispered, looking to the valley.

  “But Moira is all right?” Odessa asked hopefully. “Up in Leadville?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Bannock has her. Worse yet, she’s injured. Burned in a fire, then kidnapped. I’m hoping you can tell me what Bannock wants with her.”

 
; It was Odessa’s turn to shake her head. “But we got a telegram yesterday. Reid’s still there, in Leadville.”

  “A telegram?” Daniel asked. “From a detective named Bell?”

  Odessa eyed him and nodded once as dread settled.

  “Bell’s been dead for a week. Somebody’s been sending you telegrams in his name. And there’s only one man who would benefit by doing that.”

  “He could be here now,” Tabito said, studying the valley with Bryce.

  “Why’s he after you, McAllan?” Daniel asked.

  “Oh please, God, no,” Odessa said, ignoring him. “Moira. The sheriff … Reid killed him!” She turned away, her knuckles against her lips. “And Owen and Leander.” She looked to Bryce. “It was no accident. They were too fine, too good as horsemen to get chased off that cliff. They were murdered, Bryce. We are under attack. He is here. Reid is here.”

  Bryce’s eyes met Odessa’s. They were obviously thinking the same thing.

  “He found out about the conquistador gold,” Odessa said.

  “He thinks we have it,” Bryce said.

  “Or know where it is,” Odessa said.

  But then they looked northward, to where they could clearly hear gunfire.

  “Dess,” Bryce said in exasperation, “get back to the house. Lock all the doors and windows, take my gun and hole up upstairs with Samuel. We have to see what’s happening up north. If they take out our boys up there, we’ll be down to three men.” He looked to Daniel and then ran down to his horse, pulling his rifle from his saddlebag. “You’ll stay with Dess?”

  “Afraid I’d just slow you down out there. I’ll do my best to keep her and your baby safe.”

  “Thank you, friend.” The two men’s eyes met, as if making each other a silent promise.

  “We could ride for the neighbors,” Odessa said desperately. “Go for help.”

  “There aren’t enough neighbors to help us fight these men off,” Bryce said grimly. “Our only hope would be to get someone to Westcliffe, but if he has the manpower to take down a stage and Sheriff Olsbo and his deputies, I’d wager he has the road to town sealed off.” He took her by the shoulders. “We have to see this through ourselves, Dess. Please, go inside. And pray like everything we get out alive.”

  She pulled him close for a quick kiss. “We’ll be waiting for you, Bryce McAllan. I love you.”

  He cradled her face in both his hands and stared into her eyes. “Odessa McAllan, I’ve never loved another as much as I love you. I’ll do everything I can to get back to you. You know that, right?”

  “I know it,” she said, staring back into his eyes.

  He broke away then, running to the stables. Daniel opened the door to the house with Odessa right behind, moving as fast as they could. Once inside, they went around, closing and locking every entry. Daniel pushed a chair beneath the handle of the front door, making sure it was braced, then did the same with the back. Cassie, white-faced, watched them in confused silence. She gave the baby to Odessa, and Odessa ran upstairs, looking from one window to then the next, trying to glimpse the men … or the invaders.

  For the moment, she could see none of them. But then the gunfire began again. She ran around to the other bedroom, and Daniel joined her at the window. Sweat streamed down his face, likely more from his injuries than their fortification efforts. They watched Tabito and Bryce break away from the stables in a gallop, whipping their horses as they headed north. “Stay to the side, Mrs. McAllan.” Daniel eyed the baby. “Can you put him down? He’d be safer in his crib.”

  She nodded, feeling foolish for not thinking of it herself, and hurried into the nursery. She moved the crib to the corner, away from either window, and then set the baby inside. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, blissfully unaware of what was happening outside. From in here, they could clearly hear the gunfire at the north end of the ranch, about three miles distant. Were the men hurt? And how would they ever get back? Could Bryce and Tabito get there in time?

  Daniel walked to the window at the end of the hall and looked back at her as she emerged from the nursery. She shut the door, willing the layer of wood to become steel. “Mrs. McAllan. Come here.”

  She hurried over to him and slid alongside him to peer out the glass panes.

  “One of your men?” She could tell he hoped she would say it was.

  She squinted to see better against the high noon light, watching the two on horseback approach. She gasped then. “That’s Reid Bannock,” she whispered. She could see he had a woman before him on the horse, his arm around her shoulders. Her hair was oddly shorn, blonde—“Oh, no. No.”

  As if in a nightmare, Odessa looked to Daniel, who stared outward in rage, then back down to Reid, who had dismounted, right before the house. He gruffly pulled Moira from the saddle to stand in front of him. She let out a cry of pain. It came as a muffled whimper through the glass.

  Lifting his gaze to where Odessa stood, Reid cupped his hands and shouted, “Come out, Odessa, or your sister will die in front of your eyes.” He drew a revolver from his holster and put it to Moira’s head. Moira was weeping.

  Odessa could see Daniel moving below, outside already, gun on Reid. She hadn’t even noticed he’d left her side, so intent she’d been on the horrible vision below her. Odessa felt her breath quicken as fear turned to panic.

  The men were shouting at each other, but it was as if Odessa’s ears were full of water. As if in a nightmare, she turned and walked down the stairs. Cassie was standing in the kitchen by the back door, wringing her hands. “He’s outside, ma’am. Outside! Don’t go out there. Please, don’t go out!”

  “I know, Cassie. Go up and sit with Samuel while he sleeps, would you? Put a chair under the doorknob, and don’t let anyone in except for me, Bryce, the newcomer, Daniel, or one of our men. Understand?”

  Wide-eyed, Cassie nodded and hurried up the stairs.

  Odessa opened the back door. Daniel and Reid were still exchanging words. Moira was crying. But it was Moira. Moira! Odessa stumbled out toward her sister, ignoring Reid’s gun, ignoring Daniel’s shouts, her eyes only on her little sister. Her lost, injured sister. Four years, four years since she had seen her … a year since she had heard from her.

  “Mrs. McAllan,” Daniel warned, still keeping Reid in his gun sights. She took another step and he reached out to grab her arm. “Stop. Stop.”

  Reid laughed. “Ah, sweet emotion. It makes for such perfect manipulation.”

  “Leave her alone,” Moira growled, hating that Reid had put them in this situation, that he controlled even this, this.

  “You, my dear, are in no position to make any demands,” he purred in her ear. He kissed her, right below her ear, then. “I’ve enjoyed our brief reunion, but I’m onto the prize.” He looked up and stared over at Daniel.

  Daniel.

  Moira still couldn’t believe he was here. That he was alive.

  That he’d come after her, despite his injuries.

  “Adams,” Reid called. “You obviously came here for Moira. Here she is, though she ain’t so pretty now, is she? You can have the whore. Just give me the other sister in exchange.” He pushed Moira forward, closing the gap between them but carefully keeping her between himself and Daniel’s gun.

  Moira lifted a hand to her face. “Don’t look at me, Dess. Don’t look at me, please. I’m a monster. I’m so sorry. So sorry Reid is using me—”

  “Sh, shh,” Odessa said, reaching out, as if she could touch her across the twenty paces that now kept them apart. “You are not a monster. You are alive, Moira, alive, and you have no idea how—” her voice cracked—“how happy it makes me. I’ve been afraid … when I didn’t hear …”

  “Too busy living in sin to write your only sister?” Reid asked Moira, his face a mask of mock dismay. But Odessa’s eyes remained on her, full of longing and love.

  “Mrs. McAllan!” Daniel cried, as Odessa stepped forward.

  Reid eyed his men coming from the north, three on horses, one
trailing behind. “No more time for games,” he said. “When my boys get here, things will get infinitely more complicated. Keep it simple, Daniel. Throw down your gun, or I’ll shoot Moira right now.”

  “You shoot Moira, I’ll shoot you.”

  “But you still lose her.”

  “And then you lose your life.”

  Moira’s eyes flicked from Daniel to Reid and back again. She could not make it if Daniel died here. Not here. Not now. Not because of her or her family—

  “Daniel, let us go,” Odessa said. “It’s the fastest way through this. I know what he wants.”

  “No. No! He’ll kill you! This man knows no boundary.”

  Reid grinned and pointed his revolver in Odessa’s direction. Once he had her, he threw Moira to the ground before him. Moira was weeping again, shoulders shaking. She reached up to her sister, wanting to touch her, just once more—“Odessa.”

  “Moira,” Odessa said, her heart in her eyes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  Reid hauled Odessa away then, toward his horse. He climbed up in one swift motion, keeping his gun trained toward Odessa’s ear. “Tell Bryce and his men that if they try and leave the ranch or come after us, our sharpshooters will cut them down,” he called over his shoulder. “They’ll show no mercy. I’ll return the woman when she gets me what I’m after. Maybe.”

  Reid reached down and Odessa accepted his arm. He hauled her up behind him, even as he turned the horse, so that the only exposed back to Daniel’s gun was Odessa’s. They galloped off across the field, thick clods of sod flying behind them. Up ahead of them, three men edged out of the trees toward them, guns drawn. Bannock’s men, come to claim him, protect him.

  “Odessa,” Moira wept, a hand stretched in the direction they went.

  “We’ll get her back, Moira. Trust me.” Daniel bent to help Moira to her feet, his gun still before him, even after Reid and his men receded into the trees on the far side of the field, Reid’s reference to sharpshooters clear in both their minds. Slowly, they backed into the house. Once inside, with the door locked, Moira turned to him and he enveloped her in his arms, careful not to touch her burns. “You came for me,” she said. “You came after me, Daniel.”