In the Shadow of the Mountains

by Rosanne Bittner

  Elly was also watching. Her eyes remained on Chad as one dance ended and he moved back to Irene, putting an arm around her as if he were the happy husband. Elly swallowed some more of the sweet rum drink she held, aware it was not ladylike to drink, but not caring. Red had shown her that sex could be even more exhilarating with alcohol in the blood, and tonight she would have sex with her new husband. She wanted to enjoy it to the fullest, to try not to think about Chad for one night.

  She was losing him, slowly but surely. She didn’t like the feeling. Chad and Irene were becoming a little too happy. She had out-done her sister in the grandeur of her wedding, had nearly taken over the spotlight in the gossip columns. But she was losing Chad, and somehow she had to spoil what little happiness Irene had found with him. Perhaps if Irene found out the truth about Susan Stanner, it would cause new conflict and distrust in the happy Jacobs household. If that didn’t work, there was always that slipup Red had made about when her mother and father were married. Maybe there was something to it. Had Irene been illegitimate?

  She would have to think about it while she was away in New York on her honeymoon. Chad had been right about one thing. Sex was much more fun when it was forbidden. She remembered the first time she had seduced Red inside his enclosed carriage, how he had trembled when she pulled her low-cut dress from her shoulders and untied her camisole to offer him her generous bosom. It had been a deliciously sinful night. Now that she was married to the man, she had a feeling she was fast going to become bored with her new husband.

  Red came up and kissed her then, and she suddenly realized how old he was. But he was at least robust and fun, and if she handled him right, she could bleed him for every last penny, and still have lovers on the side to bring back the excitement she would lose with her husband. Chad was one lover she would never give up; and to make sure she never lost him, she realized she had to find ways to keep his own marriage in a turmoil without looking like the culprit.

  Red held up a glass then and proposed a toast to his new marriage. Everyone joined him, after which Red pulled Elly close, planting another kiss on her lips. “I might have had ulterior motives for this, but I do love you, Elly.”

  She smiled. “And I love you,” she cooed. She glanced at Chad to be sure he was watching, then gave her new husband another embarrassingly passionate kiss.

  Irene sat beside a Pembroke table in the great room, opening mail. Christmas, and Elly’s wedding, were both over a week past, and she surmised Elly and Red must be in New York by now. The huge Christmas tree they had erected in the great room still stood, but Rose and a butler were in the process of taking it down now, while David, who would be four in February, played near his mother with a new set of blocks.

  Irene studied one letter curiously, noticing it had no postmark or return address. There was no way to tell when or from where it had been sent. She frowned as she opened it, taking out the note inside, feeling a sick shock when she read it.

  “Ask your husband about Susan Stanner,” it read.

  There could be no mistaking its meaning, and a tight pain gripped at her insides. “My God,” she groaned.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The baby came too soon, and was born so quickly that Irene lay in shock for two days afterward, unaware of the remarks about her new daughter.

  “Why, she looks just like a little Indian,” Rose had joked.

  Chad had stared at his new daughter in alarm. Her skin was a deep red, her eyes a black-brown, her hair a thick shock of black strands. She bore no resemblance to either him or Irene. He reasoned that Bea, Elly, and John were dark, but even they weren’t this dark.

  Bea summoned Kirk from Canon City, telling him only that Irene had had her baby. When he arrived and saw his new granddaughter, his eyes showed his dread and sorrow. “My God, Bea, this is just what I was afraid of. We should have told her,” he groaned.

  “Maybe the baby will change. She’s only two days old, Kirk. It’s hard to tell when they’re this little.”

  “For God’s sake, Bea, I’ve seen my share of Indian babies! She’s not going to change! All we can do is hope people think she takes after her grandmother. But if her facial features…” He shook his head. “What did Irene say?”

  “She hasn’t really seen her yet, not in a really conscious state of mind. She’s been pretty sick.”

  “What about Chad?” Kirk asked.

  Bea sighed with weary frustration. “I can see by his eyes that he’s upset and confused.” She put a hand to the back of her neck. “Oh, Kirk, Irene has such light hair and those blue eyes. I never thought this could really happen, especially if she married a man who was also fair.”

  “Nature is nature. You can’t predict something like this, Bea. You always think you have so much damn control over everything. Where is Chad now?”

  “He’s in with Irene. She’s just come around. It was such a fast birth, and she lost a lot of blood; but the doctor says she’ll be all right. She just needs plenty of rest.”

  Kirk looked down at his little granddaughter again. She was so terribly tiny, born earlier than expected. He gently touched the soft black hairs of her head, smiling sadly. Being Irene’s daughter, she would surely be a beauty, a grand mixture of Indian and white that Irene was, only with the provocative beauty of the Cheyenne coloring. What kind of life lay ahead for her—and for Irene?

  Chad came into the nursery then. “Irene wants her baby,” he said, the words hinting that he considered it hers and not his. There was a look of anger in his eyes, but he said nothing. “I have to go out for a while.”

  Bea blinked back tears, turning to pick up the infant girl. She carried her granddaughter into Irene’s room, and Irene reached up for her. Bea lay her in the crook of her arm, and Irene gasped, then smiled. “Mother, she’s so dark. Rose told me she looked like a little Indian, but I didn’t believe her.”

  She kissed the baby’s soft cheek, stroked the dark hair, giving no indication she thought there was anything odd about her new daughter. Kirk and Bea shared a moment of temporary relief, neither of them realizing Irene was still too upset over the news about Susan Stanner and Chad to take a really good look at her new daughter and realize just how different she truly was. She had said nothing to Chad yet about Susan. The ugly, shocking letter had brought on her labor, and for now she could only thank God that her slightly premature daughter had lived. In her weakened condition, with a brand new baby at her breast, she could not bring herself to talk about something so horrid, but she had no doubt it was true. She hated to think that the father of this beautiful new baby was capable of treating women like so much garbage, capable of seducing innocent young girls and having no feelings of remorse or guilt when they hanged themselves over him.

  Outside Chad turned up the collar of his overcoat and bent his head against a winter wind, climbing into a carriage. He could not get the picture of his new daughter out of his mind. Dark…so dark. His jealous, suspicious mind was at work again. There was no way that baby could belong to him. He was sure of it. She even had slightly slanted eyes, like an Indian’s—or more to the point, like a Mexican! Ramon! Irene must have had an affair with him before they left for Europe! He remembered how they had talked and laughed at the party for statehood, remembered how Ramon had squeezed his hand threateningly.

  He slammed his fist against the side of the carriage. He would give the baby time to get over the distortions of a newborn, two months, maybe three. He would not say a word to Irene…not yet. But if that baby didn’t change, and if Irene didn’t offer him the truth on her own, there was going to be hell to pay!

  He had his proof now. He had an excuse to divorce Irene, and he could drag Ramon Vallejo through the mud at the same time! They weren’t going to get away with this! He wished Elly were here to talk to. She could help him decide what to do. He ordered old Jim to take him to Milicent’s house. He had to take his frustrations out on someone. Milicent would understand.

  Irene! He had tried to mak
e this marriage work, and now look what she had done! Had she done it purposely to spite him? He clenched his fists. Oh, how he wanted to hurt her!

  The driver pulled up in front of Milicent’s house, and Chad climbed out. “Go find something to do for a while,” he told Jim. “And if you say a word about where you brought me tonight, you’ll lose your job and that nice room you get to live in over the stables! You’ll find yourself down along Hop Alley digging in the garbage.” He walked up and pounded on the door, and a woman let him inside.

  Jim turned away, tears in his eyes. There was poor Mrs. Jacobs lying up at the house with their brand new little baby, and her husband was seeing another woman. He had never liked Chad much. He saw right through that white man’s fake smiles. He shook his head, driving the carriage away.

  John took the train home just long enough to see the baby and spend one night at Chad and Irene’s. Bea and Kirk were also invited, and a strained silence hung about the table. Irene knew it was because of little two-week-old Sharron Rose, a beautiful child with creamy-soft skin and big brown eyes. She looked so different. Irene knew John noticed, but he had said nothing. He had only smiled and congratulated her, perhaps too lost in his own unhappiness to care why little Sharron was so dark. He drank himself to sleep and left the next day with a hangover.

  The way visitors looked at her baby made Irene even more protective of her little girl. She held the child almost constantly, except when she shared her with young David, who liked to help take care of her. Few words had been exchanged between Chad and Irene. Chad seemed to make himself very scarce, and he had taken to sleeping in another bedroom, telling Irene he didn’t want to disturb her sleep while she was still healing.

  Sharron was six weeks old when Elly and Red returned from New York. They came to see the baby, Elly putting on a show of the glowing, happy bride. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Sharron. “Irene! Why, she looks like a little Indian!”

  Irene noticed a strange look in Red McKinley’s eyes. He leaned closer to study the baby, then looked at Irene, putting on a near sorrowful smile. “She’s real pretty baby, Irene.”

  “But she’s so dark! And look at those eyes,” Elly said rudely.

  “Shut up, Elly,” Red barked. “You’re dark, aren’t you? So’s your mother.”

  “But not that dark.” She leaned closer, toying with the baby’s hand, her mind racing. Ramon? Could this baby be part Mexican? Something was wrong here. She remembered again about Red being so sure at first that Kirk and Bea had married in ’46. Red was leaving something out, and she was going to find out what it was. She glanced at Irene, seeing the hurt look in her eyes. Good, she thought. My sister has some explaining to do. She wondered if Irene ever got her note about Susan Stanner. She had bribed the man at the letter office not to mark it in any way so that Irene wouldn’t know where it came from.

  “Where is Chad?” she asked slyly, a suggestion of sarcasm in her voice.

  “He’s working,” Irene answered.

  Elly couldn’t wait to see him and see what he thought about this baby. She hoped maybe they could find a way to meet soon. She had missed him so.

  “Well, I’ll have to go to K-E and see him and Mother and everyone—tell them about our trip.” She slid her arm into Red’s. “New York is just fabulous, Irene, but then you got to see it when you went to Europe, didn’t you? Of course, you didn’t really stay and see the sights, go to the theaters and all.” She looked up at Red. “We’re going to Europe ourselves next year. Red promised me, didn’t you, darling?”

  Red watched her with a frown, angry over her remark about the baby. He had quickly learned he had married a whining, demanding woman with a voracious sexual appetite that had at first been exciting but had soon grown tiresome. What irritated him most was that he really did love her.

  “Yes. I promised.”

  “But first we’re building our own mansion. I don’t want to live in Red’s house. It’s beautiful, but it isn’t ours. As soon as Ramon is finished with Mother’s new home, I want to hire him to build ours.” She looked at the baby again. Could it be? Would a man like Ramon cheat on his wife? How delicious! She tugged at Red. “Let’s go, darling. We have a hundred places to go today. Congratulations on your new baby, Irene.”

  Their eyes held. “Thank you,” Irene said coolly. She looked at Red, seeing pain there. Elly was already making him suffer, she could tell. But there was something more, as though he wanted to tell her something but was afraid.

  “She is truly a beautiful baby,” he said then before turning to leave with Elly. My God, he thought as they left. She’s a little Indian. Irene can’t ignore it forever. He had warned Bea Kirkland about this years ago. Now the worst had happened, and there would be hell to pay for it. The sad part was that the ones most innocent—Irene and little Sharron—would suffer the most.

  Irene finished nursing the baby, then laid her gently in her crib. At two months she was still very small. Irene buttoned her night gown and stood watching her little daughter sleep. She leaned down to touch her soft, dark hair, realizing now that she needed some answers. She loved this child as deeply as any mother loves her own, but Sharron was different, and Irene did not like the gossip she knew was beginning to filter through Denver. Her first thought was to protect Sharron. An awful dread was beginning to move through her veins, urged on by the memory of her parents’ exchanged looks of fear at times, the conversation she had heard between them years ago about living a lie. What was that lie? Why had two so obviously mismatched people gotten married in the first place?

  She heard the door close downstairs, and her heart tightened. Chad was home. He had been silent these past two months, had not even asked to hold Sharron. It was obvious he had taken again to womanizing on a much grander scale. It was four A.M. He had been gone all night. She had no idea he had been with Elly while Red was out of town. Elly had gladly planted new seeds of doubt in Chad’s jealous mind, had again stirred his anger and suspicions.

  Irene stepped out onto the balcony and closed the nursery door. She looked over the railing to see Chad coming through the great room to the stairs. He looked up at her, a scowl on his face. Their eyes held as he came up the stairs, and Irene moved along the balcony toward him.

  “Chad, we need to talk,” she told him quietly.

  He gave her a strange grin, and she stepped back, seeing with horror the same look in his eyes she had seen the day he beat and raped her. “About what,” he sneered. “Your affair with Ramon?”

  Her eyes widened. “Ramon!”

  “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it,” he told her, coming closer. “You couldn’t hide it this time, Irene! His seed is lying in that nursery!”

  She stepped back again. “You’re wrong, Chad. We need to both go and talk to my parents. It’s—it’s me, Chad! It’s something about me.”

  “Like hell it is! If you wanted to get back at me for my affairs, Irene, you could have at least picked a white man!”

  “Chad, you’ll wake the servants and the children.”

  “I don’t give a damn!” She stood frozen as he came closer and suddenly grabbed her wrists. “You slept with Ramon, didn’t you?” He shook her. “Didn’t you?”

  “No! You’re wrong, Chad, I swear to God!”

  He back-handed her hard across the side of the face and she spun around, landing against a wall before sliding to the floor. “You lying slut! I was right that first time, wasn’t I? I’ll bet David isn’t even mine! He’s Hank Loring’s kid, isn’t he? I’ve been fathering two children, and neither one of them belongs to me!”

  She put a shaking hand to the side of her face, which stung painfully. She slowly rose, grasping at her gown, turning cold, blue eyes to meet his gray ones. “Let’s talk about who is really in the wrong,” she told him, her voice shaking. “Let’s talk about Susan Stanner!” She watched the blood nearly drain from his face, and she knew for certain it was true.

  “Who told you about Susan?” he gasped
.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she sneered, stepping back from him again. “I should have figured it out for myself.” She tasted blood from a cut on the inside of her mouth. “But I was too young and ignorant and trusting. We both know who has been the unfaithful one, Chad, for many years. We both know who went to sleep with a whore while his wife lay in pain and sorrow on her wedding night! We both know who sleeps with every whore and willing woman in Denver, and who is capable of raping his own wife!”

  He stood glowering at her, his fists clenched. “I didn’t have much choice but to sleep with other women! I sure wasn’t going to get any satisfaction out of my frigid wife, now, was I? The only way I could get my own wife into my bed was to force her!” He stepped closer, his handsome face now ugly with rage. “I don’t even want you that way any more! I told you before that what I do with other women means nothing! But I also told you how I felt about my wife being with other men!”

  “I haven’t been with anyone,” she screamed. “Sharron is ours, Chad. She’s ours. And I’m taking her to Mother’s to find out the truth!”

  She ran into the nursery to wrap Sharron in two of the baby’s heaviest blankets. Rose came from her room behind the kitchen, clutching at her robe and wearing a night cap. She stared up at Chad. “Mr. Jacobs! What’s wrong?”

  Her voice startled Chad, who had started toward the nursery door. He hesitated as Irene turned with the baby in her arms. He panted with rage. “Go ahead,” he sneered. “Try to find an excuse for Ramon! I want you out of this house anyway—you and both your bastard kids!”

  Rose hurried up the stairs, afraid for Irene. Chad glared at Irene a moment longer, his eyes dropping to little Sharron in a look of disgust. He turned and went to his room, slamming the door shut.

  “Irene, what is wrong?” Rose asked.

  “Get my coat, Rose, and get David up. We’ve got to get the children out of here.”