Breathe: A Novel of Colorado

by Lisa T. Bergren

  One man was already halfway down the stairs. She caught a glimpse of his hulking form as she narrowly avoided the other man reaching for her. She heard the slam of the front door as she ran into the dining room, the kitchen, then toward the back door ... freedom. Too far to reach the rifle, she had to get out, make the door.

  A man reached her then, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back roughly. She tried to scream, but his hand was there, covering her mouth. She writhed and kicked, but he easily picked her up into the air and pulled her backward, out of sight of the kitchen window and her husband.

  "Shh," the man said, "Odessa, quiet down now or we'll have to kill your husband as soon as he walks in that door."

  She stilled. Who was this? Who would dare to steal into her house? Who knew her name? And moreover, who would threaten to kill Bryce? She stared at the back door in horror, praying that Bryce would be distracted, remember something he needed back in the stables ...

  It was then she saw the doctor in the corner of her eye, in the corner of the kitchen, arms folded across his chest. Doctor Morton from the sanatorium. All at once she remembered what was familiar about this man holding her. She didn't need to turn to recognize him.

  It was Sheriff Reid Bannock who held her and threatened her husband. Reid!

  "I think you know why we're here, Odessa," he said lowly in her ear. "You stole something out of the sanatorium. The good doctor wants it back."

  Doctor Morton moved to a window and peered out. "Looks like Bryce has been waylaid. He's heading back to the stables." He motioned to others behind Reid that she couldn't see. "Go. Make sure no one interrupts us."

  Odessa closed her eyes, half in praise that God had heard her prayers, half in utter terror that her husband was not coming to her rescue.

  "Don't scream," Reid said in her ear. "If you don't scream and you cooperate, you'll live to the end of your natural days in this house."

  He let his hand fall an inch from her mouth, testing her. He left his arm around her waist, holding her in place.

  But Odessa was staring at the doctor, the diminutive, kind doctor of the sanatorium. She shook her head in disbelief. "Not you. You can't possibly be in on this. Tell me you're not."

  "Odessa," he said. "Please. Forgive us for frightening you. All we need is the document you obtained from Sam. Sam died owing the sanatorium a good amount of money. It is ours legally. By rights. And it will go a ways in rectifying his accounts."

  "I have nothing to give you. And Bryce rectified his accounts while we were still patients at the sanatorium." She shook her head. "You murdered Sam," she said softly. "Or had him murdered. I heard it."

  "Murder? That's a tall accusation," Reid said, releasing her.

  She whirled and took a step away from him, but he reached out and grabbed her arm as if to say no, not too far.

  "The ears can play tricks," Reid said, "especially as ill as you were about that time. Though I must say you're not looking ill any longer. Marriage agrees with you, Odessa. I once had ideas of marrying your sister ..." He reached out as if to touch her face and she backed away again, but he pulled her back roughly against his chest.

  "Sheriff," warned the doctor. He looked at Odessa. "We need the document. If you give it to us, we will not file our suit against you and your husband."

  "File suit?" she scoffed. "Sam left it for me, not you. He owed you nothing. He paid a good deal to the sanatorium, more than enough to cover the care he received."

  "And how is it, my dear, that you would know such a thing?" He stepped toward her now from the other side.

  "It matters not."

  "No? Could it be that you broke into the office and looked at private documents?"

  She said nothing.

  "Sheriff, is that not a punishable offense?"

  "Breaking and entering," he said, grinning down at her in delight. "I'd say that'd do it."

  "Not that you would have found anything illegal, had you been reading our files," said the doctor. "Everything we do is perfectly legal."

  She leveled a look of disbelief at him. "So what are you doing here, a day's journey from the Springs, in my house?" She looked up to the sheriff. "And you. Just because you are a sheriff does not make you immune to the law. Speaking of breaking and entering ... you broke into my house, threatened me. I can press charges of my own."

  He smiled down at her, unperturbed. "The door was open. And we are merely encouraging you to relinquish what is ours. Maybe you found that document in the administrator's office. Maybe it was in the file and you stole it."

  "I stole nothing," she spat. "It's mine. Sam left it for me!" She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

  "So you do have it," Reid said. He lifted her chin. "You know we will not leave without it. Go and fetch it. Now."

  She glanced at the doctor, vainly hoping for help, but he stared back at her with the same steely determination as the sheriff. "And if I do not?"

  "Come, Odessa. This need not be difficult. Give us the document and we will be on our way. You can resume your life."

  "You'll simply walk away?"

  He continued to smile. "Go and retrieve the document. Quickly now, before your husband tries to return. It will be easier for all if we can see this through without further ... discussions."

  Odessa hesitated. Bryce would be back any minute. They all knew it. But she would die if anything happened to him, if she were the cause of it. And there were two of them, both carrying a gun. Two others outside, between any of the ranch hands and the house. Chances were good that Bryce would be injured in a gunfight. She had to get them to leave, right away. "Sam's note is gone. It was destroyed in the water when Helen and I were chased, presumably by your men."

  Dr. Morton studied her. "We are merely here to claim what rightfully belongs to the sanatorium."

  "Of course," Odessa nodded. "You don't want to confess to sending killers after us."

  Dr. Morton sniffed. "Please, Odessa. Since you stole the note-

  "I stole no note. It was left for me. Handed to Bryce for me by an attorney. It had my name on it! The lawyer can testify to it!"

  The doctor reached up to tap his finger to a lip. "I believe Sam O'Toole hired an attorney I know-and he moved away about three weeks ago." He looked to the sheriff. "Did he mention where he was moving, Sheriff?"

  "Don't believe he did."

  "Pity, that. There goes your alibi. Meanwhile, my night nurse and attendant are prepared to testify to seeing you steal out of the administrator's office. We still have yet to determine what all you took from the files." He raised one eyebrow. "Perhaps there was more than just one document."

  Odessas mouth dropped open. "What? They did not see me anywhere near the hall! I took nothing!"

  He stepped toward her and lifted a hand in an amiable gesture. "Ah, you are not very good at this game, Odessa; obviously, you did manage to make your way in. Come now, this does not need to be as messy for you as it has for others. I presume Sam left directions to his mine? I'm afraid I hadn't had the opportunity to carefully study his file before," he paused to cough, "you visited the administrator's office."

  "I told you, he left me the document."

  "And for your sake, I do hope you remember what was on it if it, as you say, no longer exists. He gave you directions to find his mine?"

  "He said nothing so specific."

  "What did he say, exactly?"

  Odessa hesitated, but Reid pulled a revolver from his holster and removed the safety, then casually lifted it to point at her. With shaking voice she recited, "`Find two forgotten men desperate for drink, perched over a river winding, never to reach-"'

  "He left a poem?"

  "Of sorts."

  A horse whinnied outside and Reid moved to the front window. "One of your ranch hands is coming." He glanced at the doctor. "Think he spied our horses up on the hill?"

  The doctor looked nonplussed, but didn't answer. "The men are still out there. Whoever approaches m
ust appear harmless."

  She glanced out and frowned. If one was coming, where were the others? "It's Nels. He probably just wants to tell me what's keeping Bryce and ask about supper." She swallowed hard, again thinking that she might be the cause of an innocent man's death. "I can send him away."

  Reid studied her. "Do it." He pointed toward the door with the gun. "Carefully."

  Odessa turned and walked to the front door. When she laid her hand on the knob, she felt the cold steel of the gun tip between her ribs. Reid was at her side, behind the door, and Odessa opened it, peeking out. "Evening, Nels!" she called, as he rode up. "How did it go in the north quarter?"

  The thin man gazed up at her with a shy grin but slowly shifted his eyes to the crack in the door. "Mare's back on her feet. Much improved. Came to tell you Bryce is just getting her settled in the stables and then we'll be in."

  "Oh, biscuits won't be done yet, I'm afraid. Please tell Bryce that it'll be another half an hour-and that I'd love it if he took a look at Ebony. She threw a shoe when we were out."

  "We'll do that, ma'am," he said, searching her eyes.

  "Thank you. I'll see you in a bit." She forced a smile and shut the door, then looked up at Reid.

  He moved the gun to her chin and traced it slowly to her ear and then back again. "Nicely done. Now how 'bout you pick up a pen and write down that poem in your pretty head?"

  "And then you will leave," she said, staring into his eyes.

  "That depends on you-and what old Sam had to say, exactly."

  He followed behind her up the stairs to her writing desk, too close to be polite. But he obviously didn't care. What all had Moira endured while he had courted her? No wonder she despised the man! He followed her into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, watching her.

  She sat down. Then with shaking hands, she pulled a sheet from the cubbyhole of the desk, uncorked the ink, and picked up a pen.

  "Don't forget a word, Odessa. Moira's going to know, someday, the cost of disappointing me. Don't you go and do the same."

  Moira. She swallowed the fear at his unnamed threat and wrote as quickly as she could. Damp to her East, wounds to her West, land in my mother's name ... In her mind she whispered apologies to Sam as she wrote it out.

  "Sheriff!" called the doctor from down the stairs. "We need to be on our way. Do you have it?"

  "She's working on it," he called down casually. "Our boys will keep the men from coming around again." He left the doorframe and moved over to her, then placed a hand on either side of her, leaning down until his chest brushed against her hair, until she could see him looking at her. "I chose the wrong St. Clair girl, I think. All I wanted was a pretty bride. A woman of caliber. Substance. Moira failed me."

  "Yes, well, I'm sorry for that," she said. Within an old sheepherder's cabin, in high hills of pinon pine ...

  He reached down and pulled a curl away from her temple, fingered it. "Do you think you and I might've had a chance? Had I met you first instead of Moira? There's something about your face, your eyes, something about you that sticks with a man."

  Bile rose in her throat. Wealth that burns, and that that is eternal.

  She bent forward and blew on the sheet, then lifted it with the tips of her fingers. "This is it," she said, shoving her chair back, forcing him to take a step. She rose and turned to face him. She hadn't beaten consumption to let this man bully her. "Take it. Leave and never come near me or mine again."

  A slow smile grew across his face and then he gave her a hard stare. "So you're giving me the poem, just like that. What else was there?"

  "That was it. Follow this and I'm certain you will find what you seek. I had planned to."

  "I have a better idea." He took a step forward and pulled her closer. "I think I'll take you with me."

  He ran his hand down one arm slowly, plucking Sam's poem from her trembling fingertips. "Yes, we'll need you with us for a bit, anyway. You can come home as soon as your husband signs over the deed to old Sam's land." He grinned victoriously and tucked the note into his vest pocket. "Come along," he said, pulling her roughly toward the door.

  But Bryce was there, rifle raised to his shoulder. "Evenin', Sheriff."

  Reid slowly eased his hands in the air. "Evenin', Bryce. Guess now that we're all together, it'll save me a trip back. It's just as well."

  "What're you talking about?" Bryce stepped forward until the rifle hovered a foot from Reid's chest. Veins bulged and pulsed at his temples. "You break into my house, threaten my wife-"

  "Bryce-" Odessa began.

  "Settle down there, brother," Reid said. "I didn't do anything to your wife. I simply encouraged Odessa to return something that rightfully belongs to the doctor."

  "Lots of ways to threaten a woman, Sheriff. But I don't need to tell you that. You're obviously well versed on the subject."

  For the first time, Odessa saw murder in her kind and loving husband's eyes. "Bryce," she said with a quavering voice, "they have what they came for. Send them on their way."

  "Yes," Reid said. "All I need is for Odessa to show us to Sam's mine, make sure she didn't leave anything out of Sam's poem, and a quick signature from you on the deed."

  A bead of sweat rolled down from Bryce's temple, streaking through the trail dust on his cheeks. "You're in no position to make demands. Keep your hands up. Turn around."

  Reid did what Bryce asked, turning and sighing. "You're making a big mistake, man." Keeping his hands in the air, Reid tossed Odessa a lazy grin. "Better talk some sense into your husband before this gets ugly."

  "You're the one that brought ugliness into this house," she ground out, moving forward to reach for the poem in his pocket.

  "Don't do it, Odessa," he said, eyes narrowed.

  She took it from his vest and crumpled it in her hand, just as Bryce grabbed one gun from his holster and then the other, tossing them to the carpet beside them. "Now move downstairs."

  But Reid was staring at her. "You know that poem by heart. You know where it is. Have you seen it? Been there already?"

  Bryce grabbed his shoulder and pulled him roughly around. He brought the gun up to his chest. "You will leave my wife and my house now."

  "Oh, I'll be back for her, McAllan, and you can be certain there won't be anyone in my way. She has something that rightfully belongs to us. And I'll get it from her," he said with a leer back at her, "one way or another."

  Bryce whipped the rifle around and brought the butt of it swiftly into Reid's sternum, making him gasp and bend over. Bryce jabbed the rifle against his cheek. "Move. Now."

  Slowly, the sheriff rose and put one foot in front of the other. They reached the top of the stair, first Reid, then Bryce, then Odessa.

  Odessa looked about the front entry, the parlor, in confusion. "Bryce, there are others! Where is the doctor? The other men?"

  "Nels has the doc. What other men?" he tossed over his shoulder, concentrating on the hulking sheriff before him. Nels moved forward from the kitchen hallway, the doctor ahead of him, hands in the air.

  A shot sang through a bright, new parlor window and slammed into Nels. He whirled and fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Another came right behind it, narrowly missing Bryce's head.

  "Move!" Bryce yelled at Reid, shoving him forward down the stairs. Reid stumbled forward, then righted himself to move slowly again. More shots came through the windows, splintering above their heads. "Get down, Odessa!" Bryce cried out.

  Nels managed to make it to his knees and return fire through the windows, shooting blindly into the hazy light of dusk. The doctor leaned down and cruelly rammed his fingers into the man's bullet wound until Nels could do nothing but drop his revolver and fall, ashen-faced, to his back.

  Bryce pointed his rifle toward the doctor, but Reid turned on him, whipping the gun from his hands. Reid backed away toward the window and raised a fist, an obvious signal to cease firing. As ordered, the bullets stopped. Bryce moved up several steps, between Odessa and the
interlopers, as if to cover her.

  Reid ran a hand across his upper lip, wiping away the sweat. "Figure neighbors heard those shots?"

  "Too far away," Bryce returned, levelly. "No need to kill us yet."

  "Well," Reid said with a thin-lipped smile. "Not all of you, anyway.

  Chapter

  36

  "Wait," Bryce said, when one of Reid's men raised a gun and leveled it at his temple.

  Odessa panted through her nose for breath, Reid's hand across her mouth to keep her from screaming.

  "She knows the clues that might help you find Sam's mine. But I know the rise and fall of Sam's land," Bryce said. "Been there a hundred times. You need both of us. And we won't help you if you kill my man." He tipped his chin toward Nels, unconscious now on the floor, a pool of blood spreading from his shoulder. "Bind him, but leave him behind."

  "Can't risk it," Reid said. "Take him out and get rid of him."

  Odessa squirmed in his arms, crying now, as she watched two of Reid's men grab hold of Nels and carry him out, presumably through the back door of the kitchen. Her heart thudded, waiting for a telling gunshot.

  "We'll take you both with us. But only because I can use one of you to get the other to do as I wish," Reid said. He leaned toward Bryce. "After all, it'd be easier to buy the O'Toole property off a dead man."

  Bryce clamped his lips shut and moved as if to lunge toward him, but the doctor moved in front of him. "Come now, Bryce. Let us see this to its-"

  A shot reverberated through the air, through their chests, as if it had been shot at them.

  Nels. Dear, decent Nels.

  Odessas knees gave way.

  "Whoa, whoa," Reid soothed in her ear, lifting her. "It's all right. I've got ya."

  Bryce turned eyes full of misery toward his wife, unable to do anything to free her from the brute.

  Doctor Morton cleared his throat. "As I was saying, let us see this to its conclusion at last, shall we? Soon all will be in order. All in order." He gestured toward the front door and Bryce opened it, then moved through, the doctor directly behind him. Reid urged Odessa forward, and on leaden feet she moved toward Ebony, in a new, small corral near the house.