In the Shadow of the Mountains

by Rosanne Bittner

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Most of downtown Denver was washed away. Again, the city suffered tremendous devastation, and again its people pulled themselves up by the bootstraps and determined they would not let this latest disaster make them give up or leave. They had overcome the fire; they would overcome the flood. They had been sorely tested, tempered and honed hard by fire and water—but they were fighters. They dug in and began cleaning up and rebuilding.

  This time the Denver Inn had been spared, but another Kirkland warehouse had been washed away, as well as a Kirkland supply store. The store had literally vanished without a trace. The same fate was suffered by Bill Byers and the offices of the Rocky Mountain News. A three-thousand-pound steampowered printing press Byers had imported from the East was nowhere to be seen.

  By the time Irene and Chad arrived, people were still milling about in shock, astonished at the power of water. Bea welcomed Chad and her daughter, too distraught to notice Irene’s loss of weight, the circles under her eyes, her pale skin. Irene reasoned that if her mother did notice, she probably thought it was due to Irene’s worries over the flood.

  “You two should have gone on to Europe as planned,” Bea fussed. They stood outside the new offices of Kirkland Enterprises, which had been spared. “Oh, I wish you had already been on your way when this happened. I hate to see your honeymoon ruined!”

  “Bea, you know we wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone, especially with Kirk gone.” Chad patted her arm and she quickly embraced him, then embraced Irene.

  “I’ve wired Kirk that we can handle things here. As long as he’s already in Georgetown, he might as well go on to California,” she told them. “There is so much there to be done. He’ll have some supplies sent in from the coast.”

  “How bad are our losses?” Chad asked.

  “Bad enough, considering the fire, then all the rising prices and the bottoming out of mining investments. We have so much to talk about, Chad. I want to know how things are going in the south. It’s more important than ever.” She quickly kissed Irene’s cheek. “Have the driver take you to the house, Irene. John is still there. He’ll be coming down soon. I’d like to borrow Chad for a while, if it’s all right.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Irene answered quietly. I need to talk to you, she wished she could say. I’m so unhappy, and I don’t know what to do. Chad leaned down and kissed her lightly.

  “Go home and get some rest,” he told her. “I’ll be along.”

  Irene entered the carriage, feeling numb. A honeymoon to Europe was not likely now, and she didn’t even mind. She reasoned since she was home, she would feel better, especially once they could move into their own house. One thing she did love was her house, the warmth of the rich wood floors and paneled walls, the beautiful stained-glass windows. Being in that house, surrounded by Ramon’s work, would be like having Ramon near her, watching over her. Wrong as it was, ever since the horror of her wedding night, she had thought more about Ramon. Now, wondering if he might have been killed in the flood, those thoughts were stronger than ever.

  She stared sadly at the devastation as the carriage clattered away, and once out of sight she ordered the driver to take her past the street where Ramon lived. When they reached the spot where his house used to stand, she saw nothing but rocks and silt, flattened grass and uprooted cottonwood trees. “Dear God,” she whispered, then told the driver to continue on. When they arrived, Irene hurried inside, where she met John coming down the stairs.

  “Irene! What the hell are you doing here?”

  “We heard about the flood. John, I need you to do something for me.”

  He came closer, looking her over. “You’re supposed to look radiant and happy. You look terrible. What’s the matter?”

  She reddened slightly. “I’m…I’ve been a little ill,” she explained. “All that rain before we left, I suppose. I’m all right now. Chad is in town with Mother. She’s waiting for you, but I want you to do something for me as soon as you get the chance.”

  “Sure. What do you want?”

  She smelled whiskey on his breath but said nothing. “Ramon,” she said, stepping closer and keeping her voice down. “His house was swept away, John. Please find out what happened to Ramon.”

  He frowned. “My God, Irene, do you still think about Ramon? You just got married!”

  “Don’t make me explain, John, and don’t ask questions. We’ve always been good friends. Please, will you do it?”

  He sighed deeply, moving to put an arm around her. “I already know,” he answered. “Ramon sent a messenger here to tell us it would be a while before he could get back to finishing your house.” He led her to a satin-covered bench at the foot of the stairs and made her sit down. “His wife and son were killed in the flood, Irene.”

  The pain of it hit her as though someone very close to her had died. She knew how devastating such a loss would be to someone as tender-hearted as Ramon. His beautiful little boy! “Oh, no,” she groaned, putting her hands to her face. “Poor Ramon.”

  John put his arm around her shoulders. “I know. I felt terrible when I heard about it. If it makes you feel any better, I went looking for Ramon. I found him at his church, lighting candles for his wife and kid. Catholics believe in lighting candles for the dead, that it helps get them to heaven or something like that. I told him how sorry I was, but he was devastated. I’m not sure he even realized I was there. He’s pretty broken up.”

  The shock and trauma of the past two weeks overwhelmed Irene. She burst into pitiful sobbing. Everything was so wrong, so out of place. Ramon had loved her but married another. She had done the same. Now Ramon was alone again, and she was wed to a man she was not sure was capable of love.

  “Irene, you’d better let me take you up to bed.” John helped her up the stairs to her old room, and made her sit down on the bed.

  “You’ve got to…find him again, John,” she told him. “Tell him…how sorry I am…that if there is anything any of us can do…he should tell us.”

  “I will. But it might take a while. I think he went back to Hacienda del Sur. He said something about needing to get away for a while.” He pulled back the covers of her bed. “You’d better lie down and get some rest. You don’t look too good, Irene. I’m glad you’re back, but it’s too bad you missed going to Europe. Is everything okay with Chad?”

  “Yes,” she lied, “everything is fine. Just try to find Ramon and make sure he’s all right.” John took a clean handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her. Irene took it gratefully, wiping at her eyes. “I can’t help feeling sorry for him, John. He’s such a good man.”

  “I know.” He helped unpin her hat, surprised she had been so concerned about Ramon. “He’ll be all right,” he assured her. “Ramon is a strong man, and he’s still young. He’ll find another wife and be happy again.”

  Her heart tightened at the words. “Yes. I suppose he will.”

  “You sure you’re all right, Irene? I mean, is something more wrong than the flood and Ramon’s loss? You really do look terrible.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  John wished his father was there. He had never been very close to him, but he knew Kirk had special feelings for Irene, and would not like the way she looked. “Maybe I should get a doctor—”

  “No! I don’t need any doctor,” she told him, terrified now of any doctor, even her own. Besides, maybe the family doctor would figure out what was wrong with her, and Chad would be upset. Others would find out, and she would be gossiped about. “Whatever I had, I’m better now. Just let me rest, John.”

  He sighed and rose from the bed. “Okay. I’ll let you know if I find Ramon.” She took off her shoes and lay down, and John covered her with a quilt, then left, ordering the servants to let her rest.

  Irene turned on her side, letting the tears come, exhaustion from the trip and weakness from her ordeal bringing a heaviness to her eyelids. She cried until blessed sleep began to take over, unawa
re that Elly had walked quietly into her room. The girl noticed how sick and pale Irene looked, and that she seemed terribly distraught.

  “Irene?”

  Irene, nearly asleep, opened bloodshot eyes to see her sister standing and grinning strangely.

  “You came back because of the flood?”

  “Yes,” Irene answered weakly.

  “Terrible, wasn’t it?” Elly said, sobering then. “Bill Byers’s office got swept completely away, but people say he’ll buy out the Commonwealth and open up again. He’s a lot like Mother—nothing gets him down. I’m going to town myself pretty soon to help out. Is Chad there?”

  “Yes. I…really don’t want…to talk right now, Elly. I don’t feel well.”

  Elly shrugged. “All right. But…how was your honeymoon? You’ll have to tell me all about it so I’ll know what to expect when I get married.”

  “Don’t be…in any rush,” Irene answered, so worn out that she hardly knew what she was saying. She didn’t see Elly smile. Her sister’s mind was awhirl with what the statement could mean. Had the honeymoon been some kind of disappointment? Surely not with a man like Chad! Maybe it was Irene who was the disappointment! If she was, Chad would not be a happy man.

  “This is our chance,” Bea told Chad. “I’m sorry you had to come back, son, but now that you’re here, I have to tell you this flood was a godsend.”

  Even Chad was astonished at the statement. He closed the door to his private office and turned to her. “How do you mean?”

  “The city hall was washed away, along with all records, including records of land titles.”

  Their eyes met, and Chad grinned. “And all we need is proof on our end of what we own.”

  “Yes. This is our chance to lay claim to more land in the south, including land the Mexicans are squatting on. There is one particular piece of land I am interested in. It’s called Hacienda del Sur, and it’s prime land. Hank Loring can put it to good use. I am also glad to report that Red McKinley’s sawmill was destroyed—nearly all his equipment. The man is totally bankrupt, although he hasn’t come to me yet. He will, soon enough. Go ahead and draw up papers claiming that site as ours. He won’t be able to fight it. We’ll open our own sawmill, and Red McKinley will be on his way, which is just fine with me. I’m glad Kirk wasn’t here for this. He might want to help the man again, but we’ve lost enough to that drifter. He’ll be gone by the time Kirk comes back.”

  Chad rubbed at his chin. “I’ll get started on things, but doesn’t that hacienda belong to Ramon Vallejo’s family? I’ve heard him mention it.”

  “I know you like Ramon, Chad, but his family is squatting illegally on that land. Remember never to let friendship interfere with a good business deal, Chad. We need that land. Claim it under a fictitious name for now, if you want. Ramon doesn’t have to know. In fact, I would prefer that he didn’t.”

  Chad felt a hint of guilt, but after all this was Bea Kirkland talking. He was not about to do anything to undermine her confidence in him. He shrugged. “If that’s what you want, I’ll take care of it.”

  Bea smiled. “That’s my Chad. Besides, it isn’t wise to get too close to Ramon, Chad. I know you like his work, but he is Mexican. A man of your standing shouldn’t be seen with men of a lower class. You’re part of the Kirkland family now.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  Bea sighed. “I do have some bad news. Finishing your house will take a little longer than expected. Ramon lost his wife and son in the flood.”

  Chad looked at her with genuine concern. “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, isn’t it?” Bea seemed to shift uncomfortably, and Chad wondered at her anxious demeanor every time Ramon Vallejo’s name came into their conversation.

  “We have to get as much taken care of as we can this summer,” Bea went on. “We’ll be losing John’s help in a couple of months. I’m sending him off to college. He’s a little young, but I think he’s well schooled enough to manage. He may have to take some preparatory courses at a boarding school first. We’ll see how he does on his entrance exam.” She watched Chad closely, folding her arms. “How are things with Irene? Is the marriage all right? Is she happy?”

  Chad flashed his usual smile. “Of course she is. You don’t think I’d let my wife be unhappy, do you?”

  Bea smiled with relief. With a man like Chad at Irene’s side, she shouldn’t worry about Ramon being left a widower. From everything she had seen, it appeared the silly crush Irene had had on that Mexican man was long over. Her daughter was a married woman now, with a wonderful, successful, attentive husband.

  “No, I can’t imagine you making her unhappy,” she answered. “It’s just that Irene looked a little peaked.”

  “She’s just tired from the trip back, and she was a little out of sorts for a few days. I had a doctor tend to her. She’s fine. It might be better that we did come home, where she can be around familiar things. She’ll rest better that way.” He sighed. “I really love her, Bea. I’m a very happy man, and with any luck, in another year you’ll be a grandmother. We’re working on it.”

  Bea reddened slightly at the remark, but she glowed with happiness at the statement’s meaning. Perhaps Irene had learned how to please her man in ways Bea had never understood. She wanted so much for her daughter to be happy in that way, for Irene’s marriage to be better, closer, than hers had been. At least she and Chad had married for the right reasons—out of love and desire—not out of necessity.

  “Nothing would thrill me more than to have a grandchild,” she told Chad. “I’m so happy for both of you. Maybe once we get over this present crisis, you and Irene can still take that trip. I’m so sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “I am, too. But Irene understands. As long as we can be together, that’s all that matters. Europe can wait. First things first, and you need help.” He felt the inner victory he always felt when he won this woman’s confidence. This was one woman who could not be controlled sexually, but he had found a different means of keeping Bea Kirkland on his side. He intended to remain indispensable to her, continue to build her full confidence in his legal skills. He was a part of the Kirkland empire now, and he intended to keep it that way.

  Red McKinley stormed into Kirkland Enterprises, shoving aside Robert Slade when the man tried to stop Red from barging into Bea’s private office. “Look, Mr. McKinley, you can’t do this,” Slade argued.

  Red whirled around and glared at the older man. He was bigger than Slade, certainly more rugged, and, as anyone could tell, more experienced when it came to fighting another man. “You really think you can stop me,” he growled, his face red with anger, making everything else about him appear even redder.

  “It’s all right, Bob,” Bea Kirkland called. “Let him come in.”

  “Let me come in?” Red stepped through the door and slammed it shut. “I’ll come in when I damn well please,” he told her gruffly. He stepped closer to Bea’s desk, thinking how much he’d like to kill Bea Kirkland, woman or not—if only he wouldn’t be caught. “What’s this about what’s left of my holdings being in Kirkland hands? I could have at least sold what was left and paid a little something! Maybe I could even have started over!”

  Bea glared at him. “Started over? With what? You had no capital, no inventory left, and half your equipment was washed away. You still owed my husband over thirteen thousand dollars! I had every right to take over that mill, Mr. McKinley, and you know it.”

  “You move fast when Kirk isn’t around, don’t you! It’s only been two weeks since the flood, and I find out through another bank that I no longer even own the land where my sawmill was—land bought and paid for—land that I never signed off!”

  “You signed that land off when you failed to make payments on it,” Bea said flatly. “It was bought with Kirkland money—hard-earned money, I might add, something you wouldn’t know much about! I’m protecting my own. God knows our losses over the past year have been phenomenal. Your reckless use o
f the money Kirk loaned you certainly did not help. When Kirk gets back, he’ll understand the mistake he made. You are through in Denver, Mr. McKinley!”

  Chad barged in then, looking upset. “What’s going on here? Slade told me you might have some trouble here, Bea.”

  “It’s all right, Chad. Leave us alone,” Bea answered.

  Chad glowered at Red McKinley. “You watch yourself.”

  “Don’t threaten me, kid! I’ve gone a few rounds with Indians and outlaws and bears! I’m not afraid of the likes of you!”

  Chad looked at Bea. She nodded for him to leave. He did so reluctantly. Red turned hate-filled eyes to Bea, trembling with anger. He stepped even closer, leaning over Bea’s desk. “I might be through in Denver, lady, but I’m not through with Denver! And maybe, just maybe, I’m not through with you!”

  Bea frowned. “What is that supposed to mean? There is nothing you can do to me or to Denver. You’re a penniless drifter and a failure!”

  Red straightened. “There are other forms of power, Mrs. Kirkland. You have your money, your political clout, your underhanded lawyers. But I’m one up on you, because I knew Kirk before you did. I would think you might have figured out by now that I know about Irene!”

  He watched her turn visibly pale, and he took great delight in her obvious, sudden panic. “Yes,” he said with a sneer. “All this time I was doing you and Kirk a favor by keeping my mouth shut. You know what? I still won’t say anything, for one reason only—for Irene herself. How in hell a woman like you raised such a beautiful, gracious daughter, I will never understand! It must be her Indian blood that makes her so naturally sweet, in spite of being raised by the biggest bitch in Colorado!”

  “How dare you!” She started to rise.

  “How dare you?” Red answered. “Knowing what I know, and you treat me this way. Well, I’ll tell you something more that I know, Mrs. Kirkland.” His stance was so threatening that she sat back down. Red leaned closer, keeping his voice low. “Something I’ll bet even you don’t know! Your precious Irene had a twin brother,” he told her, almost laughing at the shock on her face. “The Cheyenne kept the boy and gave Kirk the girl. Kirk never told you that, did he? Your daughter has a half-breed brother running around out there with the murdering Cheyenne. I’ve even heard his name come up, as one of the young leaders among the Cheyenne raiders.”