In the Shadow of the Mountains

by Rosanne Bittner

  He leaned down and met her mouth again, giving her a slow, suggestive kiss. “Good,” he said softly as he drew away. “I’m sorry about all this, Irene. I pictured your homecoming a lot different. There isn’t even time to talk about what the school was like, or how your trip was.”

  She smiled, patting his chest. “The trip was fine, considering all the Indian trouble. Father hired a virtual army to ride with the coach. Once we hit Denver they spread out to see what they could do to help. As it turned out, Father didn’t need to pay all those men. We saw no sign of Indians.”

  “Well, that’s part of the reason your parents had you sent home a little early. Your father figures that in another month or two the plains won’t be safe for anyone. Everybody in town figures the Cheyenne will come out this summer like a swarm of bees. Things are going to get worse, I’m afraid. This fire doesn’t help, especially since we’ll need a lot of supplies now.” He hesitated, and his eyes seemed to tear suddenly.

  “Chad, what is it? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

  He sighed deeply, leading her to a bench in front of a building that had survived the fire. All around them people were shouting, sifting through rubble, some crying, others giving orders. And the sounds of saws and hammers were proof that these strong, resilient people had not given up. Disaster had not halted their plans for making Denver, Colorado, the biggest and finest city in the West. Nearby several men were already erecting a temporary assay office, and across the street a tent went up with a SALOON sign in front of it. Farther up the street a man held up a SUPPLIES sign, using his own freight wagon full of fresh supplies that had arrived that morning as his store.

  Chad turned to Irene, grasping her shoulders. “I might as well tell you before Elly lets it slip out,” he said. “She’s so insensitive.”

  “Tell me what?”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “Sierra. I…had ridden him yesterday. I had him put up last night in the stalls at the Denver Inn.”

  She glanced in the direction of the burned-out hotel, taking a moment to realize what he was telling her. Sierra! He had died in the fire! “Oh, no,” she gasped, covering her face. She leaned against his chest, and he put his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m so damn sorry, Irene. I had grown attached to him myself. I was taking really good care of him, exercising him every day. I feel like such a fool, and I wouldn’t blame you if you were angry with me.”

  She cried for several minutes, unable to speak. Everything about the last several minutes had been such a shock. She had imagined coming home to a happy family, Chad riding to greet her on Sierra. She had wondered how Sierra would behave when he saw her again, imagined hugging him around the neck. The first thing she was going to do was go riding. Oh, how she’d missed it! But with Sierra gone, it suddenly didn’t seem important anymore.

  “You couldn’t…have known,” she sobbed, finally finding her voice. She took a handkerchief from her handbag.

  “The fire moved so fast, Irene. When you’re in the middle of an inferno, you don’t think straight. I went to the offices first because I could see they would go fast. I saved what important papers I could. By then I couldn’t get back to the Inn.” He rubbed at her shoulders. “I didn’t even have a shirt on. My back and chest and arms are giving me a lot of pain. I’m covered with little burns from hot embers.”

  She straightened, blowing her nose and wiping at her eyes. “Oh, Chad, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I should just be happy you’re alive and unhurt. It’s just…Sierra meant so much to me.” She suddenly thought of Ramon, the day they went riding together, Sierra thundering across the open land, the wind in her face, Ramon riding at her side looking like a grand Spanish warrior. Sierra had liked running hard just as much as Irene had liked riding him that way. “I don’t know if you can understand,” she went on. “Sierra and I…we were like one spirit.” The tears came again. “It isn’t so much that he died, as that he died without ever seeing me again. Maybe he thought…I had deserted him.”

  He pulled her close, letting her head rest against his shoulder, almost grateful for all the grief. It seemed to draw them closer. She was warmer and more open than she had been when she left. Apparently it had been good for their relationship for her to go away. She seemed more responsive now, seemed to turn to him more lovingly.

  “I think he knew you were coming back,” he assured her. “I mentioned you to him every day. We, uh, we found his remains, Irene. Your father intends to use slings and pulleys to get him into a wagon so he can be buried up by the house. He figured you’d like that.”

  She sniffed, pulling away again. “Father would think of something like that. I’m sure Mother wouldn’t care either way, but Father understands how I felt about Sierra.”

  “There’s something else, honey,” he added, using the endearment carefully, gauging her reaction. She didn’t seem to mind. “Your father…”

  She wiped at her eyes and looked at him. “He’s hurt?”

  “No. But…I don’t know. He’s acting kind of strange. He’s short with everyone, and that’s not like him. I know he’s taken a great financial loss, but I think it’s more than that. I caught him crying once, and he told me I might have to take over for him in a few days—that he needs to get away from all this for personal reasons.”

  Chad suspected what was wrong with David Kirkland. He had visited the whores often enough to hear rumors about Kirk’s visits to a certain madam named Mary O’Day, and he had learned from one of the prostitutes in the street this morning that Mary had been killed in the fire. He thought it incredible that any man could fall in love with a whore, and he found it amusing that one of the most prominent men in Denver had cheated on his wife. Now Chad would not feel quite so guilty about doing the same after he married Irene. He gave no thought to what Kirk’s reasons might be, but he did wonder if Bea knew.

  “I just thought you should know,” he told her, “so you know what to expect when we see your father.”

  “Maybe it’s just the pressure of all this,” she offered. “He never liked handling the money end of the business, and I’m sure Mother is going to harp about their losses for some time to come. It just gets to him.”

  “Yes, maybe that’s it. At any rate, I’m damn sorry about Sierra. I wish there was something I could do or say to make it better for you.”

  She met his eyes and shook her head. “I can understand how terrible last night must have been. You should go home, Chad, and get some rest.”

  He touched her face. “I can’t. I intend to work right alongside your father until he says to quit. This will all work out, honey. We’ll be all right, and you and I will do some catching up in a few days when things quiet down.”

  She smiled through tears. “Yes. I’d like that.”

  He leaned forward, meeting her lips, irritated that they were not where he could take advantage of her momentary vulnerability. He suspected that at this moment, if they were alone, he could get more out of her than a kiss. He pulled back then, deciding she had already been hit with enough bad news that he had better not tell her just yet about Susan Stanner’s suicide. He only hoped Elly would keep her mouth shut about his part in it.

  Irene heard someone call her name, and she looked to see her father hurrying toward her. She rose to greet him, and in the next instant she was folded into his arms. “Irene, I’m so sorry we couldn’t be there to greet you,” he told her. “Thank God you made it through Indian country all right!” He pulled back then, grasping her arms. “Let me look at you.”

  She smiled for him, but her heart was torn over the way he looked. She struggled not to show her shock at how he had suddenly aged. Had he always had that bit of white at his temples, those lines about his eyes? Perhaps she was only just now noticing because she had been away from him for so long. Or had the strange grief he had been suffering done this to him? She noticed he at least still looked as healthy and robust as ever.

  “You look so beautiful, so g
rown up,” Kirk was telling her. He grasped her close again. “Thank God. Thank God,” he muttered.

  Irene nestled in his arms, feeling safer and more comforted than she did anyplace. No matter that Chad loved her, or that her mother was already busily rebuilding the Kirkland fortune. This was all she needed. The shock from seeing Denver destroyed, her sorrow over Sierra, all were relieved when she was in her father’s arms. Oh, how she wished they could go back into the mountains together, but with this tragedy and all the hard work that lay ahead, she knew it would be impossible. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever get to go back.

  Still, she took comfort just in knowing those mountains were there, waiting for her to return. Right now, being in her father’s arms was like being in those mountains. In spite of the disaster that had taken place here, it was good to be home.

  People were so busy rebuilding and salvaging that those who ran Kirkland Enterprises could not get enough help for the time being. Chad’s own secretary had been killed in the fire, but business had to carry on, and Irene dived in to help, working on correspondence and other paperwork until a new secretary could be found. There were transactions to be made, records to be kept, correspondence to be handled. New shipments of supplies were on their way from San Francisco, and Bea had builders working around the clock to prepare new warehouses.

  Owning supply businesses in California was a godsend to the Kirklands. While most other businesses in Denver relied on supplies from the East, which were slow in coming, especially now with so much Indian trouble, the Kirklands could haul in their own supplies and, of course, charge ridiculous prices for them. At the same time, money Bea had made off her bogus mining investment company helped offset their losses, and already she had set up temporary headquarters for Kirkland Enterprises at the rear of the National Bank. Builders who were working on the new offices insisted that every new Kirkland building be brick.

  Kirk did not ask how or why there did not seem to be an unusual dent in the family funds, and Bea was not about to offer an explanation. The less he knew about the bookwork, the better. Thank God for Chad, who had saved the financial records, and thank goodness her idea about selling shares in worthless mines had panned out. Bea was glad Kirk seemed too distracted to pay close attention to their financial situation, which she and Chad knew was much better than others realized.

  Bea kept as busy as possible, aware that Kirk seemed rather lost and unusually despondent after the fire. She didn’t want to think about the reasons for her husband’s obvious grief. She was sure it was much more than the loss of the buildings, which would not upset a man like Kirk that much. With painful jealousy and even a little sympathy, she had noticed him observe a long funeral procession that had paraded through town the day after the fire, hundreds of wild miners walking quietly behind the black, shiny hearse, paying their respects to Denver’s notorious madam, Mary O’Day, who had died in the fire. Kirk had joined the procession, and Bea had said nothing about it to him later, nor had she since. There had been so much to do and no time to talk.

  Irene threw herself into helping at the crowded, hectic temporary quarters of Kirkland Enterprises. She didn’t mind helping, for her parents needed her, and keeping busy helped ease the loss of Sierra. Elly, however, always found some excuse for not lending a hand. John worked hard, teaching Irene more about the business. It was a good way to learn, for certain records had to be searched, files had to be put back in order, financial statements had to be resorted. She was learning about Kirkland Enterprises from the ground up.

  In the brief moments she found to relax, Irene wondered about Susan Stanner, her heart heavy for the girl. Elly had told her people thought she had hanged herself over a lover, that maybe she was even carrying his baby. Irene thought it was terribly sad, in spite of how disgraceful it was. She remembered how awful she had felt those first few days after Ramon disappeared from her life, and she supposed if a woman was not strong enough on the inside, perhaps it would be easy to take her life over such a loss.

  There was little time to ponder Susan’s demise. The Stanners were gone now. It was odd how things were always changing. Since returning, Irene felt closer to Chad, especially when she saw how diligently he worked to help her parents, spending long hours at the temporary offices, usually arriving before sunrise and staying until after dark. His dedication impressed the whole family, including Irene. No one knew he was driven by guilt, still relieved at not being caught as Susan’s lover; neither did anyone realize part of his reason for putting in the long hours was to escape Elly, who made him feel irritable and uncomfortable. The result of his hard work was a positive one for Chad, who was well aware he had totally won Bea Kirkland’s respect and admiration, which only sealed the understanding that he would one day marry Irene.

  For now, though, there was little time for him and Irene to be alone or to talk about marriage. The order of the day was work, and Irene insisted on doing her share. It was nearly three weeks after the fire, when she was carrying a sack of mail to Gilbert Drake’s house, that a bittersweet memory was reawakened. Drake’s home served as a post office, and because of a growing Denver, the man was having a new wing built to make room for sorting the mail.

  Irene approached the house full of thoughts of how much work she had yet to do this afternoon. She paid no attention at first to the man who was measuring a piece of latticework near the corner of the house. She approached the steps, then heard a man call out her name, sounding surprised. She turned, and nearly dropped the mail sack. Ramon!

  She stood frozen in place, realizing in that one look that he must be able to read her thoughts, which instantly returned to the day he had kissed her, instantly rekindled all the passion and love she had felt for him. He took her by such surprise that there was no time to hide her emotions, which she quickly struggled against, reminding herself he had hurt her, reminding herself she had Chad now, reminding herself Ramon was married now.

  He approached her hesitantly, still holding the latticework in one hand, a wooden measuring stick in the other. His dark eyes moved over her in a way that told her his own feelings had never changed. She literally trembled as he came closer, angry with herself for having no better control, sure her cheeks were crimson. Her head suddenly ached, and the noise in the streets dimmed.

  “Hello, Irene,” he said softly. “I saw you going up the steps…and I could not help calling out to you. It has been…a long time.”

  She swallowed to find her voice. Was he thinking of that kiss? Surely he remembered the promises he had made that day. Every nerve came alive for her. He had put on weight in all the right places, had grown even taller. He was muscular, magnificent, beautiful; but when she dropped her eyes in embarrassment at the look she must have on her face, she noticed the gold band on his left hand. She met his eyes again. “Hello, Ramon.”

  Now it was he who looked suddenly embarrassed, bashful, sorry, angry, a hundred looks in one pair of dark eyes. “I am surprised I have not seen you around town before now.”

  “I’ve…been away…a finishing school in Chicago. I just got back a couple of days ago.”

  He nodded. “It is too bad you had to come back to such a mess.”

  Why did she feel like crying? Should she ask him why he had never told her good-bye? Would he laugh at her? “Yes, it is. The worst part was…Sierra was killed in the fire.”

  Instant sorrow filled his eyes and he came closer. “I am sorry, Irene. Truly I am. I know what the horse meant to you.” Their eyes met, and he knew what she must be thinking. How he wished he could tell her the truth, but they could never be together now. What was the use in turning her against her own mother? And Bea Kirkland still had the power to uproot his grandfather. “I—I had my reasons, Irene. I did…what I thought was best for you.”

  She blinked back tears, hating herself for being so weak around him. “We could have talked.”

  “No. There are certain things…you do not understand…things I cannot tell you. I can only sa
y…what I said that day was true. I did not deceive you.”

  Why? Why had God let her see him again? “I’ve learned a lot in the past year,” she answered. “I realize now that your leaving was probably best after all.” Why was she saying that? She didn’t believe it. “I heard…you’ve married. From what John told me last year, you must have a child by now.”

  He smiled, sorrow mixed with pride. “Sí. A little son.” He swallowed, looking around as though worried someone might see them talking. “I have my own business now,” he said, meeting her eyes again. “I am doing very well. Soon I plan to hire men to work under me. I cannot keep up with all the orders. In some respects the fire has been a godsend for me. Everyone needs a carpenter.”

  She managed a smile for him. “That’s good. I’m glad for you.”

  “And you?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m helping out with Kirkland Enterprises right now. Everything is a mess. Once things settle down, I expect to be married, within the year, I suppose. There hasn’t been a formal announcement yet. I don’t even have an engagement ring. It’s just…something that’s understood…a lot like you and Elena, I would suspect.”

  He searched her eyes, aching at the confusion he saw there. Was she only telling him about marrying to hurt him, the way he knew he had hurt her? “Chad Jacobs?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She stood so stiff, so defensive, but he sensed the burning passion just beneath the surface, and it was not for Chad Jacobs. It tore at his heart, teased his desires.

  “I hope you will be happy,” he told her, praying he was wrong in his suspicions about Chad Jacobs’s character. He had seen the man around town a few times, noticed how he liked to flaunt his looks and flirt with women. He was indeed a handsome man, but Ramon suspected he was not so beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.

  “I’m sure I will be,” Irene was saying. “Chad is good to me. He’s a hard worker, and he doesn’t drink. He’s very loyal to the family.” She wondered why she was telling him such trivia. What did it matter? I still love you Ramon, she wanted to say. I thought I was over you, until this moment.