by Cora Brent
The last time Annika Larson Dolan passed through Contention City she paused in front of The Rose Room. Several of the soiled doves lounged idly on the second floor balcony. They watched her curiously as she held up a hand in greeting. She was notorious, the wife of a slain lawman and the known lover of an outlaw. The women waved back and Annika stared into their painted faces, wondering what stories were behind them.
The day James Dolan died, half the buildings on Contention Way were damaged or destroyed. They would be rebuilt quickly, and the truth behind those events would be obscured or simply forgotten.
Annika almost didn’t dare to read the newspapers. Posses had been organized to pursue The Dane Gang. But Cutter, the Tanner boys, and the rest of them including Mercer had simply disappeared into the vast land and stubbornly refused to be caught.
Como kept a low profile during his last days in Contention. Annika knew he stayed in the old barn behind Lizzie Post’s place while he allowed his shoulder to heal and waited for her to finish wrapping up her legal affairs. His one error was telling her where the hoard of stolen gold was hidden. Cutter Dane himself had dug a hasty shallow hole close to the old Beehive. In doing so, he had certainly planned on returning for it shortly. But it was an easy thing for Annika to ride the wagon out there the day of the aftermath and find it. She cracked open Swilling’s safe and stared at it, the simple collection of rocks which had been the cause of so much grief. She thought she would float the contents down the Hassayampa. But no, once pieces were inevitably discovered it would just prompt a new round of gold fever to descend. Then she figured she would bury in the hills. But even this did not seem safe enough. So she brought it to the only place which made any sense to her. Where it could keep company with the men who had died because of it, either directly or indirectly. She buried it in the ground close to them.
Como had been angry. He demanded that she tell him where she had hidden the chest of gold. Annika had refused.
“You will tell me, bella,” he said furiously, his fingers tightening around the knife he held.
“No,” she said flatly. “I won’t. There’s nothing but evil can come of it. And if you harm me, Giacomo Medici, you will have failed in your pledge to the man who you call a friend.”
Como relaxed his hand and sighed. Annika expected him to press her further but he did not.
“We will leave tomorrow,” he finally said with a wry grin.
On the day she set out to leave the Territory, Annika stood in the small cemetery. It might have seemed like a forlorn place but she preferred to think otherwise. A handful of graves had already been filled by unlucky miners. And now James Dolan was among them. It was a place beholden to none, a final resting spot liberated from the pretense of those who called themselves civilized. Annika felt the black crape of her mourning dress flutter around her and said a silent goodbye to James. Then she mounted her horse and followed Como into the desert. The Black Hills were a long distance away and winter was fast approaching.
Annika scarcely noticed the passage of the days or the miles she traveled. Each night before her eyes closed and sent her toward oblivion she offered up a small prayer. That he might yet be alive. That she might be in his arms again. Her dreams were filled with him but to her sorrow they always ended.
Annika parted with Como Medici in a railroad town called Desperate. He had done what he’d promised. He and Mercer had labored in these parts one oppressive summer, blowing holes through mountains so that trains might pass through them. It was there Mercer had risked his own life to save his friend’s when a detonation went awry. Como told these things to Annika haltingly, and shrugged it was more likely a place than any other for Mercer to surface, given their final conversation. Annika nodded.
“Thank you,” she told the wily Italian. “For everything you’ve done, Como. Where will you go now?”
He smiled at her. “Can’t quite say, Mrs. Dolan. This is a big country and there’s a lot of it which begs exploration.”
“Yes,” she nodded thoughtfully. “Mercer said something similar once.”
As Como Medici rode away, Annika figured she would never see him again. She was right.
The Black Hills were cold, mystical. Annika obtained quarters in a local boarding house and tried to fend off the restlessness of her days. Then the sudden marriage of the local teacher opened a fortuitous opportunity and Annika accepted a position as teacher of Desperate’s children. The winter was the hardest she had ever known. The winds were unyielding and the cold drove into her marrow as it never had during all her bleak Wisconsin seasons.
Annika didn’t mind, as each new day brought the possibility of Mercer. She did not know how he would find her, or when. She only knew that somehow he would. There was little news of the Arizona Territory this far north. Once Annika was settled, she wrote letters to her family, informing them of her decision to migrate due to the heartbreak of her husband’s death. She smiled when a letter from her sister arrived. Britta had been seduced by Annika’s tales of the west; she and the colorful Cassius McLeod were departing for the Arizona Territory.
“God help the Territory,” smiled Annika and looked out her window into the fury of yet another Dakota blizzard.
Spring came softly in that country as the last gasps of winter reluctantly faded. Annika watched as all manner of men sifted through Desperate. Most traveled in tightly packed groups, appearing rough and troublesome. None were Mercer.
The schoolhouse was in the center of town. By early April the children were becoming restless with the promise of fine weather. They turned from their work and glanced longingly out of the sole window as Annika tried to sharply draw their attention back to their studies. But when their heads bent back to their work Annika walked over to the window herself. The last of the snows had melted, leaving the streets muddy and ugly. But wisps of green had begun to appear and the people milling about had an energy about them which had faded in the cruel northern winter.
Annika sighed and a young boy with dark hair glanced up at her curiously. She smiled at him, thinking of Desi de Campo. She’d had to travel light upon leaving Contention. She could think of no better guardian for her precious books than Desiderio de Campo. She presented them to him in a strong wooden box she’d found among Lizzie Post’s possessions. With a jolt she realized it looked extraordinarily similar to the treasure box The Danes had stolen from the stage one ancient afternoon. The day fate had changed the course of Annika’s life. The boy was grateful for the books. Annika had known he would be.
“Teacher,” the dark haired boy raised his hand.
“Yes, Joseph, what is it?”
The boy licked his lips, glancing around at his peers who silently encouraged him.
“Since it’s the Friday before Easter and the weather is so fine, might we be dismissed a little early?”
Annika felt the tense gaze of every child in the room trained on her. She grinned. “I think that’s a fine idea, Joseph.” She walked over to her desk and grabbed the large silver bell, ringing it with enthusiasm. “Class dismissed!”
The whoops of the children echoed through the small building. Annika considered shushing them for decorum’s sake, but stopped herself. They were happy. Indeed they were jostling, howling little beacons of life. As they filed out of the building, Annika tidied up her desk, smiling.
“Pleased with yourself, are you?”
He’d said that to her before, in exactly that tone of voice. She didn’t gasp this time, or topple to the floor. She straightened up, still facing the blackboard, frightened to turn around and find that the voice had sprung from her memory.
But the flesh which circled about her waist was very real. As was the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against her neck.
“Mercer,” she whispered, finding his hands and gripping them passionately. Only then did she dare turn around.
He looked different. His dark beard covered the lower half of his face and his skin had a ruddy look, as if he�
��d spent the past six months directly beneath nature’s elements.
“Anni” he said and his voice held the same seductive longing it always had.
Mercer touched her hair, loosening the pins, a look of awe on his face. She knew why; until that moment she hadn’t even allowed herself to completely trust she would ever be in his arms again.
Her hair fell to her waist and she wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders. Mercer touched his forehead against hers, already breathing thickly from the pent up passion of so many lost months.
“Do you remember,” he asked her, “the first time we kissed?”
She brought her mouth violently against his. His tongue found hers. His hands explored her furiously.
“I remember,” she breathed, and then never let him go.
EPILOGUE
Contention City, Arizona
Present Day
Contention City was a small town. It would have been impossible to keep the wild tale of murder and stolen gold under wraps. There wound up being more questions than answers though. As to the gold, no one knew what remained and where it was. It would be another story of lost treasure. Perhaps in a hundred years it would resurface again, to make another appeal to the worst side of human nature.
Jensen had left instructions to be cremated upon his death. It was a task Maddox had to see to since Casey had shrugged over her husband’s demise and announced she would be leaving town.
The last time Maddox spoke to her she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and was cursing Jensen as she tossed her belongings in the back of their pickup truck. “Dumb son of a bitch,” she swore. “Left us with one hell of a mess.” She kicked one of the tires and sputtered as she waited for Maddox to offer some help.
Maddox glared at her and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you can find someone other poor bastard’s blood to suck,” he told her shortly. “Leeches always do.”
Casey didn’t appreciate the retort. Her nostrils flared and she turned away from him dismissively. Maddox left her to whatever misery she would make out of her life
The Defiant men stayed until Maddox was cleared of any wrong doing. Then they climbed back on their bikes, looking for all the world like tools of biblical retribution, and returned to Quartzsite. Maddox promised to join them soon and held up a hand in fond farewell until they were out of sight. It would take him at least another week to get everything wrapped up. Grayson, without being asked, stuck around longer. Maddox was grateful.
It was late on the night the club had roared out of town when Maddox ventured restlessly outside and sat under the full moon. Grayson emerged from the house and joined him.
“How’s the head?” his friend asked.
Maddox touched the long line of stitches. “Healing,” he said. “But that’s the easy part, ain’t it?”
“Yeah,” Grayson nodded soberly. “It is.” He hesitated. “The kid’s awful quiet.”
“I know,” Maddox sighed. “He’s still trying to process everything. There’s been a lot of loss in his life as of late. Gaby can’t even send him to school because of all the nasty talk.”
Gabriela had already concluded that it would be unhealthy to keep Miguel in Contention City. There was too much ugliness, too many people eager to believe Jensen McLeod had been a dirty cop on the take. She and Miguel would be leaving with Maddox, moving to Quartzsite. Maddox figured with the sale of Priest’s house he would be able to buy a small home there. It would mean a lot of changes, Maddox knew. But then, things had already irreparably changed.
Grayson was still on the subject of Miguel. “It’ll be good for him, starting over.”
“I hope so.”
Maddox could feel Gray’s eyes on him in the dark.
“It’ll be good for you too, Mad. She’s good for you.”
Maddox stared at the moon. When he’d been small he’d heard of the Man in the Moon and figured he was a real man, one who crouched atop the moon on a throne and kept vigil over the earth. When Priest had laughed and shown him how the features of the moon could resemble a face if you only looked at them correctly, Maddox had been disappointed. He’s remarked to his father how funny it was, that you think of something one way and then find out it’s completely another. It was a lesson he’d forgotten somewhere along the way.
Something struck Maddox as funny and he laughed out loud. “Hey Grayson? So you think Mad McLeod, perennial womanizer and cynical shit, can become a family man?”
“Yes,” answered Grayson immediately. “I think he already is.”
Maddox heard the screen door whine open and turned around to see Gabriela standing there in a long t-shirt. His breath caught, as it always did, by her simple beauty and the bliss of her presence. He slapped Gray lightly on the shoulder and took his lady in his arms, carrying her into the house and directly to bed.
She was aggressive this time, as she sometimes was, kneeling and putting her mouth on him scarcely before he’d closed the door. Maddox wrapped his hands in her thick dark hair and urged her to go harder. When he felt himself getting nearing the danger point he pulled back and lifted her. He loved that she feverishly discarded her own clothes as she guided him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist as he eased her onto the bed, sliding into her with one glorious thrust.
“I love you, Maddie,” she breathed.
“Love you too, Gabs,” he answered as pumped furiously, unleashing a wave of himself inside her.
Afterward, as they lay together in quiet contentment, they didn’t talk about everything that had happened. They talked about everything that would happen. They would move to Quartzsite. They would be a family.
The next day Maddox helped pack up the UHaul that Gaby would be driving to Quartzsite as Maddox followed on his bike. They weren’t bringing much with them. Many of Gaby and Miguel’s belongings had been ruined when their house flooded anyway. Maddox took the things he wanted from Priest’s house and left the rest. Most of it would be sold by the realtor at an estate auction. The last thing he grabbed was the picture in the living room. Maddox stared sadly into the faces of the lost McLeod family. He was the only one still standing. It was a despairing thought.
Miguel popped through the door and called to him. “Hey Mad, Mom wants to know if you’re almost done.”
Maddox smiled at his nephew and the boy offered a crooked grin in return. In the coming years Miguel would feel Jensen’s loss most acutely. Maddox had much to tell him. About his father, about his grandparents. Stories only survived if they were awarded to the next generation. Maddox draped an arm around his nephew’s thin shoulders as they returned to the glaring sunlight.
Grayson was already on his bike. “Gonna get going, okay?” he called.
“Yeah, man,” Maddox waved. “We got one thing to do first and then we’ll be on our way.”
Gray winked. “I’ll take care of some light housekeeping before you get there.”
Maddox saw Gaby glance at him questioningly but Maddox only waved to Gray and watched him ride down the road. Until Maddox could find a house, the three of them would have to squeeze into his trailer. He had quietly asked Gray to please dispose of the rather pornographic decorating scheme adorning his place. He didn’t want Gabriela and Miguel to see it. The man who had glibly papered his walls with that shit wouldn’t be coming home. Gray had laughed but didn’t bust his balls about it.
“Well?” said Gabriela. She and Miguel waited at the end of the gravel driveway. Maddox retrieved two small ceramic containers from the back of the UHaul and joined them. The weather was pleasant enough for the hike. Gaby held tightly to Mad’s hand as they watched Miguel soberly make his way to a place he had come to know well.
Maddox had figured it would look exactly the same as it had last time. He was right. This was a place which didn’t change much.
“Hello boys,” he greeted the graves, bending over briefly to touch the one which had always held his fascination.
“Brother,” it read. One word of sad remembra
nce.
Maddox looked out toward the Scorpion Mountains. It was a beautiful spot. His father and brother would think so. He opened up the containers and poured them out simultaneously while Miguel and Gaby watched.
“Goodbye,” he whispered as the ashes settled. He found the old safe still in the cave. Maddox chose to leave it there, placing the urns inside of it.
Gabriela hugged her son as the boy sobbed. Maddox wrapped them both in his arms and felt a fierce surge of protective love. Never again would he be without Gabriela de Campo. When he’d kissed her ten years ago he’d known he found the right girl. He should have told her that then. They’d taken a long time to find their way back to each other but everything was finally as it ought to be. Maddox glanced down at Miguel and placed a strong hand on the boy’s back. There was his flesh and blood. There was hope for the future. The McLeod’s and the de Campo’s weren’t finished yet, not by a long shot.
Maddox kept his arms around his family as they left the cemetery. There was nothing else holding them there. Maddox had sworn the next time he left Contention City would be the last time.
An urge seized Maddox, similar to the one which had coursed through him the first time he’d stood in the cemetery with Gabriela. It was a powerful mix of emotion which he couldn’t quite place, as if it were born from the stew of whatever human experience had once occurred on that spot. He caught Gaby by surprise when he abruptly bent over and kissed her with full and deep passion. She responded just as ardently before stepping back and staring at him with a flushed smile.
