In the Shadow of the Mountains

Home > Other > In the Shadow of the Mountains > Page 41
In the Shadow of the Mountains Page 41

by Rosanne Bittner


  “Stop it, Ramon!” She grasped his hand, her face crimson.

  Ramon studied her with an aching heart. How he longed to show her how beautiful it could be to love a man. But that was impossible. His heart was too full of grief now over Elena and his little son to truly express the feelings he still held for her. He squeezed her hand. “I have overstepped my bounds.”

  “All we need to comfort each other’s heartache is to know we love each other, Ramon, that we care. Perhaps we can never be together, but we can know we love each other, and take comfort in that. I don’t understand all the reasons you left, but at the time you thought it was the right thing to do, and I eventually came to believe that, too. We’ll learn to live our lives apart, because this is how it has to be now.” She let go of his hand and wiped at her eyes again. “What’s done is done.”

  He watched her sadly. “Sí,” he said quietly. “Life plays cruel tricks sometimes.” He stepped back. “You had better go now. I will have your home finished soon. Perhaps things will be better for your marriage once you are moved into this lovely place.”

  She swallowed back more tears. “Perhaps. What will you do then, Ramon? How much did you lose in the flood—financially, I mean?”

  He turned away, looking around the great room. “Most of my money was in a bank that was untouched, and most of my tools were in another building—many of them right here. I will survive. It has been hard getting over the shock of it. In one swift second Elena and my son were swept away from me. Their bodies were not found until two days later.”

  She closed her eyes at the horror of it.

  “A man does not easily get over losing his son, Irene. I feel…numb and cold. To make things worse, the grief of it killed my grandfather. While I was at Hacienda del Sur, he died, adding to my loss.” Another twist of fate, he thought. I let you go to protect my grandfather’s land, and now he is dead. It was all for nothing. “Before I left, authorities came and told the rest of my family that they had to leave,” he continued aloud, “that someone else had laid claim to our land and had papers to prove it. They would not say who it was, and we had nothing legal to prove we owned any of the land. The rest of my family has gone back to Mexico. Everything is gone now, even my old home and my grandfather.”

  “Oh, Ramon, how terrible for you!” Her chest tightened. “Will you…will you go to Mexico, too?”

  He turned to look at her, wondering if her mother had anything to do with taking over Hacienda del Sur. He had been unable to discover who had filed the papers, but it smelled of Bea Kirkland. Still, he had more reason than ever not to tell Irene the truth. She was hurting and lonely. She needed her family. Why burden her with the truth of her own mother’s treachery? Why add to her heartache? She would have enough problems trying to find some happiness for herself with Chad Jacobs.

  “No,” he answered. I have some unfinished business right here in Denver with your mother. He had not forgotten his long-term goals. He would simply approach them now with much more determination, much more ruthlessness. Elena and his son were dead, and his heart was hard and bitter. He could concentrate on building his money and position without worrying about hurting anyone. Even his grandfather could no longer be hurt. He was alone now, alone against a society that refused to accept him. He would make them accept him, and the bastard Irene had married would help him. It gave Ramon at least a little satisfaction to know that Chad had unwittingly been helping a man who loved his wife.

  “I will stay in Denver,” he told her. “My business is growing, and I love Colorado. There is no place else I want to go. Do not worry, though. You will see little of me. I will be sure to stay out of your life, but I will be watching, Irene. If you need me, I will be around.”

  She shook her head. “It can’t be that way, Ramon. This has to be the end of it. After today, if I see you socially, I will have to treat you as I would treat any other casual acquaintance, and you have to do the same. This is the last time I will seek you out alone. It’s too hard for both of us.”

  “Sí, mi querida.” He stepped closer again. “I am glad that you came, though. Glad we could speak our feelings.”

  Her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m just so sorry that you’re alone now, Ramon. It isn’t fair.”

  He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Nor is it fair that a woman so beautiful and loving should be married to a man who does not appreciate her goodness.”

  She knew in that one touch how it ought to be with a man. She closed her eyes, taking his hand and kissing his palm. “I will always love you, Ramon. I can’t give you any more than that. And knowing you love me gives me the strength I need.” She pressed his strong hand against the side of her face. “This is the end of it, Ramon. We have no choice.”

  “I understand. I will pray for you.”

  “And I for you. Our religions are different, but we pray to the same God, don’t we?”

  He nodded, smiling sadly. “Dios le bendiga, mi querida. Thank you for coming.”

  Their eyes held, and Irene felt suddenly stronger. “Adiós, mi amigo,” she told him. “Did I say it right?”

  He smiled at her use of Spanish. “Si, mi muchacha bonita.”

  She leaned up and kissed his cheek, and before she could pull away he grasped the back of her neck, meeting her mouth in a kiss that told her how different things might have been with the right man. Oh, what a long time it had been since that first kiss! Chad had never kissed her this way, had never brought out these needs and desires, had never quieted her fear of sex the way Ramon did. He slowly released her. “Vaya con Dios, mi querida,” he whispered.

  Irene pulled away. “Vaya con Dios.” She turned and hurried away, realizing with a shock that for one brief moment she had been tempted to do the unthinkable. Ramon’s kiss burned at her lips, and her heart. But she belonged to another man—to Chad. She had made vows before God, and she intended to keep them. She resolved she must work harder at making a happy marriage, at least as happy as possible. Being with Ramon had given her a certain strength, in spite of the heartache.

  She half ran back to her mother’s house, needing to get away quickly before she betrayed her husband and her vows. She was suddenly almost anxious for Chad to get home, so she could welcome him and reassure herself that she had been true to him. She wondered what was keeping him and Elly so long at the office.

  Ramon stood in the doorway, watching her, feeling the vast, sickening loneliness that the loss of his wife and son had created. Knowing he could never have Irene only made it worse. He turned back inside and closed the door, looking around the house Irene would be sharing with Chad Jacobs. He picked up a hammer and threw it across the room, then sank down to the stairs and wept.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  September 1864

  Bea stretched her arms, tired from a long morning that had started at five o’clock. She put away some papers, preparing to go to lunch, when she looked up to see her husband standing in the doorway of her office.

  “Figured this was where I’d find you,” he told her, walking in and plunking down two saddlebags full of papers on her desk. “I haven’t even gone home yet.” His smile faded when he noticed a look of malice in her eyes. Considering he was just back from San Francisco, he had expected a warmer welcome.

  He stood in his buckskins, and Bea thought how he looked hardly different from the night he first visited her back in Kansas. She wondered sometimes if part of her resentment toward him was due to the fact that he had hardly changed physically or in personality, while she had changed a great deal. At the moment it was that old Kirk who made it impossible to give him a merry welcome. She was still too full of fury over the news of Irene’s brother.

  “There in those saddlebags is everything you need,” he said. “I got rid of a lot of mediocre mines and other holdings, like you wanted. We’re down to one mine and the shipping business.” He looked around the office. “Well, thank goodness we didn’t get washed out with the rest o
f the town. I’m glad everybody is all right. I see a lot of rebuilding—”

  He hesitated, frowning as he removed his hat, irritated that she still had said nothing. “It would be nice to get a smile or a ‘welcome back’ or some kind of reaction from my wife. I’ve been gone four months.”

  She sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “Close the door and sit down, Kirk.”

  He set his hat aside, turning to close the door and coming back to her desk. “What’s wrong? The children all right?”

  Her dark eyes studied him. He hated it when she behaved this way, so condescending and judgmental. She finally nodded.

  “Yes. They’re fine. Irene was a little ill the first couple of weeks after the wedding—too much excitement, I suppose. And becoming a wife isn’t always easy for a young girl.” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering her own wedding night. “But Chad is good to her. They’re in their new house now, but with Chad working so much Irene got lonely. She wanted to open a ladies’ clothing store to keep herself busy, and I decided it was a good idea. If anyone can sell clothes, Irene can, just by wearing them. She makes anything look beautiful.”

  Kirk smiled nervously. “That she does. But I’m surprised. Before they married, she talked of wanting to stay home and letting Chad be the breadwinner.”

  “She had more of a mind for business than she realizes. But you know Irene—once she’s with child, she’ll stay home. She wants children very badly. Heaven knows, with her gentle nature she’ll make a good mother.”

  Their eyes met, and she knew Kirk was thinking Irene would surely be a better mother than Bea ever was. Bea looked suddenly weary. “Oh, Kirk, why do you always have to make it so hard to love you,” she asked then, surprising him with the question.

  He sat down and put one moccasined foot up on a knee. “Maybe if you told me what happened while I was gone, I could answer the question.”

  She had gotten over the shock of it, but not the bitter disappointment. She told herself she couldn’t scream and yell, or others in the office might hear. This was something no one must ever know. “Why didn’t you ever tell me Irene had a brother?”

  His face darkened. “Who the hell told you that?” he asked, his gaze full of fury.

  She leaned back in her chair. “Your dear, trusted friend, Red McKinley.”

  Kirk quickly rose. “I’ll go talk to the son-of-bitch—”

  “Kirk, he’s gone. He’s left Denver.”

  He frowned. “Left? Why? What the hell went on here while I was gone?”

  Bea’s face reddened slightly with her own anger. “My God, Kirk, you should have told me! It might have made a difference. You left me open and vulnerable to that man, and I don’t like to be in that kind of position! Not telling me could have destroyed Irene—and her marriage!”

  “Get to the point, Bea.” He leaned over her desk. “What happened between you and Red? I know the man. He never would have told you about Yellow Eagle unless he was damn mad.”

  She slowly rose to face him. “Then it’s true—about the son.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s true. It’s been hell for me all these eighteen years, knowing I have another son out there. By now he’s too wild to be brought here to be civilized.”

  She gasped. “Don’t even suggest such a thing! If you ever try to give part of the Kirkland money to that savage, I’ll take you to court, no matter the publicity!”

  He stared at her, astonished at how far her bitterness and greed had taken her. “He’s as much a Kirkland as Irene.”

  She whirled. “I mean it, Kirk! Haven’t you heard? This has been a terrible summer—settlers raped and murdered, telegraph lines cut, supply wagons attacked. Denver has been threatened and harassed and cut off from the rest of the world by those savages. And guess whose name keeps popping up in the headlines as one of the ringleaders of the worst of them?”

  Kirk’s eyebrows arched. “Yellow Eagle?”

  “Yes! Can you imagine the horror for Irene—first, to learn she is part Indian, then to learn her own brother is one of the worst of the raiding murderers? My God, Kirk, it hurts bad enough—you not telling me about the son, let alone the destruction keeping it from me might cause. If I had known Red McKinley knew all of this, I would have handled things differently.”

  “What do you mean—handled them differently? What happened between you and Red?”

  She closed her eyes and turned away again. “Most of his sawmill was washed away in the flood. He wanted more money. I refused. I told him I was taking over what was left of the mill and property. I’ve bought out Hansen’s mill, eliminating the competition, and I’ve hired Hansen to take over all of it, put him in charge of rebuilding Red’s mill.”

  There was a long silence. She finally turned, meeting her husband’s angry eyes. “Damn you, Bea,” he spat out. “Don’t you have any respect for me and what I might want? I told you how I felt about Red McKinley. You could have at least helped him out until I got back and we talked about this. I can just imagine how he felt, because I know what you can do to a man’s pride! He had to hate you an awful lot to tell you about Yellow Eagle! He knew I never wanted anybody to know!”

  “He only told me to upset me. He likes you and Irene too much to go blabbing it to anyone else.”

  “And you’re real sure of that, I suppose.”

  “He told me in his own words.”

  “Well, the man hasn’t had time to let it settle yet! Who knows what he’s up to? You’ve turned my best friend into an enemy! Did he say where he would go, what he would do?”

  “No. He just said he didn’t know himself where he would go. He said he respected Irene very much, that if it wasn’t for her…and you…”

  “Well, you had by God better hope he doesn’t change his mind!”

  “Don’t go blaming this on me, David Kirkland,” she said then, her dark eyes blazing. “You should have told me! Do you have any idea how I felt, what a shock it was! If I had known, I would have known how to handle the man!”

  “I thought I was sparing you,” he growled back at her, struggling to keep his voice down. “It was enough to ask you to take Irene in as your own. It just didn’t seem right to tell you in the beginning, and the longer I went without telling you, the harder it got.”

  “Does Yellow Eagle know who his father is?”

  “I expect Gray Bird Woman told him. I imagine he asked questions when he got older. He’s half white—had blue eyes, they told me. I never got to see him myself, and it’s eaten away at me all these years!”

  “That savage could come here and try to claim an inheritance!”

  He just glared at her a moment, then let out a long sigh of disgust, shaking his head. “That’s all you’re concerned about, isn’t it, that he might get his hands on some Kirkland money! My God! You don’t even give a damn what I’ve gone through all these years. You don’t give a damn that Irene’s own brother is out there somewhere struggling to survive. You can’t even begin to understand the Indians’ side of this.” He picked up his hat and walked toward the door. “Don’t worry about your precious money, Bea. I know Indians well enough to know that they don’t give a damn about things like that. What would a warrior like Yellow Eagle want with the Kirkland fortune? He’d rather have his land back, plenty of game roaming the plains again. He’d rather be left alone to live the free life of following the seasons and the buffalo. He’ll never come here asking for his white father’s money. He would consider that shameful. They do have their pride, Bea. You don’t seem to understand that about people. The only thing you understand is money in the bank.” He put his hand on the doorknob.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Do you really care? Would it matter to you if I walked out of here and never came back?”

  He saw her tremble slightly, in spite of her rigid stance. “I care, Kirk. It’s just that…you keep making me so angry with you.”

  “Well, you do a pretty good job of that yourself, don’t you?
We just seem to keep butting heads. If it weren’t for the children—” He sighed. “I guess we’re both in too deep now, aren’t we? No matter how we feel about each other, we have to keep all this together for the kids. They’re all still too young to understand.”

  “Yes,” she answered. “We have to work together to protect Irene. We’ve gone this far, Kirk. I want your promise that if, God forbid, Irene should find out she’s part Indian, you won’t ever tell her about her brother. With the reputation this Yellow Eagle is gaining, it would all but destroy her to know it’s her own brother committing these acts of depravity.”

  He held her eyes. “We can only take a day at a time and handle whatever we have to when the occasion arises, and pray you’re right about Red valuing our friendship and Irene’s reputation more than his own wounded pride.”

  “What do you think he’ll do?”

  He let out a sarcastic snicker. “Well, now, I don’t really know. I’m not a mind reader, Bea. And I don’t know what all was said, although I can just imagine. All we can do is wait and see. Right now I’m going into town for a couple of drinks. I want to hear what people are saying about Yellow Eagle.”

  She turned away. “I’m not sorry the way it happened, Kirk. It isn’t really my fault. You should have told me.”

  “I don’t care if you’re sorry or not, Bea, because all the times you have been sorry for something, you’ve always been too late with your apologies. Don’t expect me home too early tonight. I’ll talk to the children in the morning. Maybe I’ll go look up Irene now. Where’s her shop?”

  “Two blocks up on Fifteenth Street.” She turned to face him. “You should spend a little time with John the next few days. He’s leaving in a week for Harvard.”

  “Then I’ll be home early after all.”

  He walked out, and Bea went to the door, resting her head against it, wondering which one of them was most responsible for always ruining Kirk’s home-comings.

 

‹ Prev