Passage (Soul of the Witch Book 1)

by C. Marie Bowen

  Jason pointed west, beyond the barn and bunkhouse. “There's a flat area past the outbuildings. A few folks have already set up camps. Go back to the road and head west. You can't miss it.”

  Mickey shooed both hands at the men behind him. “Back the wagon up. We need to move over there.” He pointed toward the setting sun then grinned at Jason. “Thank ya, son. I'll see the boys set camp, and then we'll be back here lickety-split. I hope to dance with that pretty little cousin of yours.”

  Jason's smile faltered, but Mickey had already turned away. Jason slapped Mickey on the back as he walked to his wagon “It's good to see you, Mickey.”

  Mickey and his men backed down the drive, and Jason found himself alone for a moment. He scanned the crowd in the yard but couldn't find Amy. He had seen her an hour ago on the porch. The icy look she sent him when their gazes met sank his heart.

  Nichole had yet to make her appearance.

  Near the vittles table, Cookie joked with several cowboys as they made sandwiches with biscuits and meat. On the other side of the barn, the beer wagon stood surrounded by men. Most brought their own tin cups, but there were also house cups with the HH brand painted on the side stacked beside the oak kegs. Jimmy Leigh and Lloyd stood near the barn, close enough to watch both the beer wagon and enjoy the dance platform entertainment.

  Jason glanced at the house just as Kevin and Renata crossed the porch to the rail. His eyes narrowed at the pair.

  I wish they hadn't come.

  Kevin and Renata paused to look over the festivities, chatting softly.

  Jason stood close enough to the porch to see Renata avoid a tipsy cowboy with a quick sidestep to her left.

  “Drunken fool,” Renata hissed at the wrangler. She brushed at her deep red skirt and returned to whispering in Kevin's ear.

  Jason saw Kevin nod and step from the porch into the yard, while Renata turned and made her way back inside.

  “Jason! Wonderful barbeque this year, just wonderful.”

  Jason smiled and turned his attention to Gary Bishop, and the two men shook hands.

  * * *

  Nichole Harris

  Jeanne took a hairpin from her mouth and wove it into Nichole's hair.

  Nichole winced as the pin scratched across her scalp.

  “There,” Jeanne proclaimed. “Shake your head.” She pulled the remaining hairpins from her mouth and tossed them onto the dressing table, her attention fixed on Nichole's hair.

  Nichole shook her head side to side, then up and down.

  “Does it feel secure?” Jeanne asked.

  “Yes. It's good and tight.”

  “It needs to be. You'll be dancing.”

  “Oh, I don't know about that.” Nichole struggled to find an emotion other than dread reflected in her eyes.

  Jeanne laughed as she tucked the hairpins in the drawer. “There are a hundred or so cowboys outside and maybe twelve women. What do you think?”

  Nichole met Jeanne's gaze in the mirror with a look of horror on her face.

  “Stand up.” Jeanne's smile crinkled her eyes as she chuckled at Nichole. “Let me take one more look at the dress.”

  “The dress is good. It's huge.” Nichole stood, glanced at her reflection and cringed.

  Jeanne giggled again and adjusted the lace handkerchief Nichole had asked her to stitch into the plunging neckline of the gown.

  “This is a good idea,” Jeanne commented. “It's stitched to stay put, and it covers the ... bruises.” The question in Jeanne’s eyes remained unspoken.

  Nichole felt her face flush and looked away. “Yes. You did an excellent job. Thank you.” She smoothed her skirt and turned, keeping her eyes on her reflection. “You should get dressed, as well. We're late as it is.”

  Jeanne sighed and waved away Nichole's concern. “It won't take me but two shakes to get dressed and pull back my hair. The party will go on all night. We won't be late at all.” Jeanne glanced back as she stepped through the doorway. “I'll see you downstairs.”

  “Yes. Thank you, Jeanne.” When the door closed, Nichole straightened and let out her breath. She admired her costume for a moment in the mirror. It was gorgeous and weighty. She both loved it and was confused by it. Jeanne insisted she put on a corset, three stiff petticoats, and a small bustle at the back to hold the gown away from her legs. It was beautiful and as foreign to her as the chamber pot. And yet, she knew, without doubt, the dress had always been her favorite.

  She walked around the room and looked through the dresser drawers.

  What do you pack for an escape?

  She wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, that was certain. She'd already packed the clothes she liked. She opened the trunk and placed her hairbrush beside chemises, underdrawers and several freshly laundered skirt sets and blouses. She’d also packed an extra set of shoes and boots. The small trunk was full.

  She was about to lower the lid when she remembered the photograph. She retrieved it from the mantel and gazed at the faces one last time. Merril, Kevin and herself—so serious and formal—in happier times, perhaps. She wished she could remember when the photo had been taken. She placed it on top of the lavender skirt and closed the lid. The latch clicked shut, and she ran her hand over the nameplate. N.H.

  She picked up her shoulder wrap from the bed then turned to face the door.

  How can I do this?

  There were too many outlandish ideas and bizarre recollections to sort through. It was as though her memory had been double exposed—each thought had a slightly altered ghost image. What she suspected wasn't possible, or there were so many impossible explanations, it made her head spin. Either way, she needed to walk into this party and pretend to be normal. After all, she was the frickin’ hostess.

  I can't think of that. It's more important to make Kevin and Renata believe they have me trapped.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest and echoed in her ears. She would smile at Kevin and Jason. She would dance with a hundred cowboys. Then she would leave this place before dawn.

  I have to sell this performance tonight. I'll sort out the rest in Denver.

  Nichole opened her eyes and prayed she could keep it together. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and then opened the door and went downstairs.

  * * *

  Kevin Shilo

  Kevin moved leisurely through the crowded yard. He stopped now and then to speak with one of the cowboys he recognized or share a toast in his father's memory with one of the neighboring ranchers. Most guests had first learned of his father's death when they’d arrived tonight. To his disgust, the cowboys asked about Merril's absence as many times as he received condolences for Pa's passing. It irked him. He nodded absently at Gary Bishop's eldest daughter. She smiled back with gusto, but Kevin looked away.

  Then, on the far side of the yard, near the porch, he saw Merril speaking with Tom Baker. Kevin thoughts grew grim. He ground his teeth and balled his fists. The crowd obscured his view for a moment, and when the gathering of people parted, both men were gone. He growled deep in his throat and scanned the crowd again.

  “Kevin Shilo! Yoo-hoo! You're just the man we hoped to find.” Gary Bishop's plump wife, Buela, smiled up at him and indicated her daughter. “Nancy Mae asked if she could come say hello to you and your brother. How are you both doing? We heard about your pa, and we're sure sorry. Was it his heart?”

  Kevin nodded to Nancy Mae and her mother. “We believe it was, yes. Excuse me.”

  “But your brother? Where is he?” Buela clucked her tongue as Kevin stalked away. “Well, I never! Nancy Mae, go find your father and tell him I want to leave.”

  “But Mama—”

  Their voices faded as Kevin stalked through the crowd. He saw Renata glance his way and then step into the house. If Merril dared show his face to him, there would to be hell to pay.

  * * *

  Nichole Harris

  Nichole paused a moment on the last rise of th
e staircase. The step gave her the height to see around the room. She could smell roasted meat on the table, but her nerves made the aroma unappetizing. Several men stood in the dining room and talked as they ate Cookie's dinner offerings. They were all older gentlemen dressed in western-cut suits and vests. They would be the ranchers, she decided. On her left, several ladies chatted together in the parlor. Their evening finery marked them as ranchers’ wives.

  From the music room, she heard the piano begin to play. Boisterous voices chimed in and sang along. Outside the open windows, fiddles and a banjo played lively dance tunes. Her gaze skipped through the faces, looking for anyone she knew.

  A bearded gentleman near the table looked up and caught her attention, then moved toward her with a smile.

  “Miss Harris, how lovely you look this evening. This is a wonderful barbeque. I've rarely seen The Highlands so festive.” He gave her a short bow, then raised his gaze to hers and smiled.

  “Thank you.” Nichole returned the man’s smile, and her mind went blank.

  He cleared his throat in the awkward silence and then gestured toward the table. “Your cook appears to have outdone herself this evening. Would you care to sample her mint tea?”

  “Yes, I would like that. Thank you.”

  By the look on the man's face, she should have recognized him. His brow furrowed, but he had the good manners not to remark on her lapse.

  I shouldn't have come down by myself.

  These people knew her and expected her to know them. Her stomach dropped, and she stumbled on one of her petticoats.

  “Here, let me help you.” The gentleman's glance became solicitous. He took her arm, guided her to the table, and filled a small round glass with mint tea. He handed the drink to her with a slight bow and a concerned smile.

  Nichole took a sip of tea and nodded her thanks.

  Marvelous beginning.

  If asked, this guy would be the first to sign her up for the asylum.

  “There you are, love. You took your time coming down. Mr. Iliff, how good to see you again.” Renata glided to a stop beside Nichole and extended her hand to the gentleman.

  “My pleasure, ma'am. I just congratulated Miss Harris on this wonderful barbeque. I'm sure Quincy and Phil would have approved wholeheartedly.”

  “I'm sure they would.” Renata agreed and then turned to Nichole with a grin. “Kevin has asked for you. You know how anxious he is to see you.”

  Nichole's eyes narrowed at Renata.

  What a bitch.

  She gave Renata a wide smile and then turned to the man beside her. “Thank you for the tea, Mr. Iliff. I'm pleased you're having a good time.”

  “I am. I truly am.” His head lifted as a new tune resonated from the music room. “I'm sorry ladies, but I believe I hear my wife's concerto beginning. If I don't attend her concert this evening, she'll never forgive me.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Iliff,” Renata replied. “I hope we have the opportunity to speak later.”

  “Yes, of course.” Mr. Iliff smiled politely and walked away.

  Nichole's smile faded as she turned to Renata.

  Renata raised one perfectly formed eyebrow. “I'm surprised.”

  “Why's that?” Nichole sipped her tea and allowed her gaze to drift over the room.

  Where is Amy?

  “I could almost feel some admiration for you, were you not so ... defenseless.”

  Nichole gave Renata an annoyed look. “Shut up, Renata. You're a scheming little whore.”

  Renata's eyes opened wide in surprise at Nichole's attack. She leaned close and hissed into her ear. “I'll be glad to see you get what you deserve. You're nothing but a spoiled bitch.”

  “Really?” Nichole’s smile grew, and then she chuckled aloud. “Meow, Renata. You can do better than that.”

  Renata stared at her. “You should use some caution. Perhaps you are insane.”

  Nichole looked up at the door just as Kevin entered the room from the porch. His attention locked on her and he moved directly toward her.

  Renata turned at Nichole's anxious expression and smiled to see Kevin approaching. “Did you find—” Renata began.

  Kevin silenced Renata by a grip on her shoulder as he moved her aside. His regard never left Nichole. “We’ll go outside now, and you're gonna take my arm. I'll ask the musicians to take a break, and then I will announce our engagement.” His grin was controlled and angry. “You, my dear, will smile. If you get out of line, even once...” He left his threat implied.

  Nichole stared at him in horror.

  I can't do this.

  Her gaze darted around the room, but there was no one close to them at that moment. Trapped, she looked into Kevin’s smug face. “You wouldn't dare touch me in front of all these people.”

  “Don't tempt me.” His red-rimmed eyes and bruised face begged her to defy him.

  Renata clutched Kevin's arm and spoke in his ear. “She'll get what she deserves.” Her dark eyes smiled at Nichole in elation. “I will enjoy watching her beg.”

  Kevin chuckled deep in his throat and wrapped Nichole's hand around his arm. He bent her fingers and pain exploded in her hand. “Don't forget what I said. And don't forget to smile.”

  Nichole resisted until he crushed her fingers again.

  Kevin led the two women away from the refreshment table. He smiled and nodded at everyone who glanced their way, stopping several times to speak with people he recognized as he directed their path out the door.

  Outside, the evening had cooled with the sunset. A large bonfire blazed in the yard, and elevated torches lit the dance platform, the beer wagon, and the vittles table. On the dance floor, three couples stepped and whirled their partners in time with the music. The yard was crowded with people from the porch to the barn. Beyond that, the unlit prairie was dark.

  Nichole pulled back when she saw that Jim watched them from across the yard, but again, Kevin squeezed her fingers, and she continued toward the musicians.

  “Keep smiling, little lady, if you know what's good for you. These people are about to receive a very happy announcement.”

  “She's not smiling, love,” Renata remarked as she scanned the crowd.

  “Maybe not yet, but she will. She'll smile, or I'll break her hand.”

  Nichole gasped as he twisted her fingers beneath his calloused palm. She was livid. She tried not to snarl as she looked up at Kevin's profile. “People don't get away with this kind of shit. You know that, right?” Her eyes never left Kevin, but she spoke loud enough for Renata to hear.

  “What did she say?” Renata asked. Her gaze darted back to Kevin. She moved behind them to avoid several cowboys who stood near the dance floor.

  “Hell, I don't know,” Kevin hissed. “Keep your mouth shut. Understand?”

  “Do it now, Kevin. Hurry. The song is almost over.” Renata crossed her arms and stepped to one side.

  Kevin whispered in the fiddle player's ear, and the musician nodded. The music wound down to the last few measures, and the couples on the dance platform completed their promenade.

  Nichole desperate gaze sought a familiar face, but there were none nearby. Again, her sight landed on Jim.

  He remained near the beer wagon, on the far side of the platform. He bent to let to Amy speak in his ear, and when he looked up, his gaze landed on Nichole and Kevin. He nodded.

  Nichole breathed a sigh of relief.

  I just need to live through this.

  She held onto that thought as she stepped on the platform beside Kevin. She winced as he twisted her fingers again and then smiled down into her face. His swollen eye promised she would suffer.

  When the music stopped, Kevin slid Nichole’s hand from his arm to the crushing grip on his left side. He raised the other hand to gain attention. “Friends, neighbors, if I could have your attention for a moment, please. You in the back, come on forward.” He waved his hand to encourage the guests to step closer. “I want to make an announcement.”

 
Chapter 35

  Jason Harris

  Jason strolled out to the fire with Gary Bishop and Dale Green. Both men were Uncle Quincy’s contemporaries and provided a wealth of information about various ventures and investments. He listened respectfully as they discussed the proposed statehood for the territory and what it would mean for the local businessmen. He was surprised to find his attention wandered and he missed valuable information he could send to his associates in Boston.

  He turned when the music stopped and watched Nichole and Kevin step hand in hand onto the platform.

  “Looks like your cousin settled on one of the Shilo boys.” Gary Bishop patted Jason on the shoulder with a hearty chuckle.

  “Hmm,” Jason replied. He stepped toward the dance floor to hear Kevin's announcement.

  “I have to say I'm a bit surprised though.” Gary took a sip of his drink. “I always thought she fancied the younger boy, Merril.”

  “Well.” Jason chuckled over his shoulder. “You know how women are.”

  “That, I do.” Gary laughed. “Have two women at home. My little Nancy Mae’s had her heart set on the younger brother for some time. Maybe now she’ll have a chance.”

  “Isn't it rather odd to announce their engagement so soon after his father's death?” Dale Green asked. “Some people might take that as a... well, an ill omen, of sorts.”

  Jason nodded and looked back at Dale and Gary. “The families discussed a union before Phil and Quincy passed. I suppose Kevin felt his father would approve.”

  “You're probably right.” Dale moved forward to stand beside Jason. “Phil flouted convention himself with that gal of his from Santa Fe.”

  Jason studied the couple on the dance floor. The prospective bridegroom led his fiancée in a waltz. Nicki didn't look happy; in fact, she seemed terrified. Jason turned his back on the couple and wondered if he would ever be able to look himself in the mirror again. He shook his head in disgust at himself and downed his drink.

  * * *

  Nichole Harris

  Nichole thought every bone and knuckle in her hand had broken. The heartfelt congratulations from the sea of strangers around her were almost more than she could bear.