Passage (Soul of the Witch Book 1)

by C. Marie Bowen

  “Forgive me, Pa,” he whispered and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 37

  Merril Shilo

  Merril moaned and raised his hand to his head. Pain cleaved his skull behind his ear. The light in his eyes blinded him, and he rolled over. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his hands and knees.

  What in the name of all hells had hit him?

  He eased to a crouch as the agony reverberated around his skull. He probed his head with his fingers and winced when he pressed the large knot behind his left ear. His fingers came away bloody. He blinked his eyes open and shaded them with his hand while he waited for his vision to clear.

  This is The Highlands. Why am I here?

  He looked back at the house, and a groan escaped his lips. Horror and adrenaline spiked through him. He closed his eyes and held his head with both hands as it threatened to explode.

  It wasn't hard to figure what happened or who hit him from behind and tried to break his skull.

  Blackie Jones.

  If he had overheard their plan to meet in Denver—

  Merril struggled to his feet and lurched to the tree. He leaned against it and willed the pain and nausea to subside.

  What time is it?

  He glanced at the sun, but the light pierced his eyes like a dart through his brain, and he turned away. Panic propelled him into motion. He had to find out if they had gone.

  He staggered forward and fell to one knee. He rose again and stumbled to the side of the house. Resting his head against the clapboard, he fought to overcome the ache in his skull and the fear in his gut. The wall supported him as he moved toward the porch. He climbed the step and reached the front door, then turned the handle and pushed the door wide open.

  “Nicki? Jason?” His voice carried into the house and filled the empty room. He flinched and pressed his hand to his temple.

  His knees buckled as hands supported him and guided him to the parlor couch.

  “That's it, Mr. Merril, you sit right here. Nichole and Jason aren't at the house just now.” Cookie spoke close to him.

  He squinted at her as he sat.

  Cookie smiled and patted his shoulder. “Jeanne, run and get Amy's medicine kit and the bandages. Mr. Merril's hurt.” Cookie's voice carried across the room, and then she ran her hands across his skull.

  “Ouch.” Merril cringed away as her fingertips pressed the tender spot.

  “Who hit you?” Then, in a louder voice, “Lawna, I need warm water and towels. This needs cleaned.”

  “Cookie, I don't have time for this. Nichole's in danger. Jones knows where they've gone.” He tried to pull away, but she had a firm grip on his neck.

  “You sit still until I get this cleaned and bandaged. Nichole left early this mornin' with Jim and Amy, or so I hear. Jason went after them a few hours ago.” Cookie clucked her tongue as she dabbed blood from Merril’s head. “You aren't going to save them right this minute.”

  Lawna and Jeanne came to Cookie with their hands laden. Lawna set a pan of water near her feet beside the couch, and Jeanne placed the liniment basket on the table.

  Deftly, Cookie cleaned the tear in the skin on the back of his head. “The bleeding's stopped, but you have an egg-sized knot behind your ear. Jeanne, hand me the salve. Not that one—Amy's salve, that's it.” She dabbed the ointment on the knot and abrasion. “Now, who hit you?” Cookie wiped her hands on a towel and stepped back.

  Merril pushed his hair from his face. “I think it was Jones. I'm afraid he overheard Nicki and me make plans last night. How long ago did Jason leave?”

  “An hour ago, thereabouts,” Cookie replied.

  “What time is it now?” Merril looked up at the women. Lawna wrung her hands, and Jeanne chewed on her lip. Cookie shrugged, hands on her wide hips. “Can't be much past ten right now.”

  “Do you know where they've gone?” Jeanne asked.

  Merril's nod was slow and cautious. “Nicki and I were going to meet in Denver. I should already be there. I need to go.” He rose to his feet, and the room swam.

  Cookie steadied him. “Lawna, step outside and see if you can find Mr. Merril's hat. Jeanne, would you fix a few meals for the road?”

  The dizziness passed, and Merril patted Cookie's hand. “I'm better now, Cookie. Thank you. I have to catch Nichole and Amy.”

  “I know ya do, Mr. Merril. God's speed.”

  Merril opened the front door just as Lawna stepped onto the porch, dusting off his hat. She offered it to him with a shy smile.

  “Thank you. Lawna, is it?” Merril pushed his hair back and slid the hat gingerly over his head.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Merril smiled at the young woman, then stepped off the porch and whistled loudly. Nothing. He waited for a few moments, turned on his heel and headed toward the barn. He would borrow a Highlands' horse from Lloyd if he must.

  Tom saw him coming across the yard and yelled back into the barn.

  When Merril stepped into the shade of the barn, he saw Lloyd saddling up Midnight with Merril's gear.

  “We found him last night. We recognized him right off, but no one could find you. He's fed and watered,” Tom explained while Lloyd worked.

  “Thank you.” He reached for Midnight's nose and patted him with affection and relief.

  Lloyd tightened the cinch and looked up at Merril. “What's happened, son?”

  Anxiety surged in Merril's chest. “Nicki, Amy, and Jim are headed to Denver. Blackie Jones knows and has about a seven-hour lead on them. He's going after Nichole.”

  “Then he's almost there.” Tom looked from Merril to his father, alarm on his face.

  Merril nodded and looked at both men. “They're riding into an ambush.”

  “Tom, saddle Ginger and put Rusty in a halter. I'll take care of Sadie.” Lloyd began moving with practiced efficiency.

  Tom pulled a set of tack together and moved into the third stall.

  “What are you doing?” Merril rechecked Midnight's cinch then stepped into his stirrup.

  Lloyd led Sadie from her stall and stopped to adjust the halter he had fit over her head. “They're too far ahead of you. You'll run that big horse of yours to death and have nothin' to show for it. Tom's goin' with you, and you'll both lead a spare mount.”

  Merril settled onto Midnight's saddle. Lloyd grinned and handed Merril the long lead rope for Sadie.

  Tom mounted Ginger and tied Rusty's lead to his saddle horn. He reined Ginger alongside Midnight at the barn entrance.

  Lloyd took hold of Midnight's and Ginger's halters, getting both riders' full attention. “You're not gonna catch 'em going fast, though I know you'll want to. You'll injure your horses—kill 'em, most like—and not make it to town. This is a long race, not a sprint like these horses are used to. Vary a trot and lope for no more than forty minutes, then walk them for ten, then stop. Rest the horses, water them, saddle the fresh horse, give yourselves a rest, then go again. You should catch Jason in about four or five hours, maybe sooner. When you do, put his saddle on the freshest horse and let Tom take any that are winded or have gone lame. Your animals are gonna be hurtin' by then.”

  Lloyd looked up at his son. “Take the spent horses on to Denver. It’ll be closer than trying to come back. Let 'em rest for at least three days before you even think about bringin' 'em home.”

  Tom nodded in understanding.

  Across the yard, Cookie called out, moving as fast as her large frame could carry her. She had two burlap bags, one in each hand. As she ran up to the men, she handed one to Merril and one to Tom. “There's enough for each of ya, not that you'll be stoppin' to eat.” Cookie patted Tom's leg and stepped back. “Take care of yourselves, now.”

  “Thank you, Cookie,” Merril replied gravely. Both men secured their food bag in their saddlebag.

  As Merril guided Midnight out of the barn's shadow, he saw Timothy and Lawna watching from the kitchen step. Jeanne stood on the front porch and waved as the men rode past.

  Merril
turned right at the end of the drive toward Denver, and Tom followed his lead.

  * * *

  Blackie Jones

  It was midmorning when Jones arrived on the outskirts of Denver. He'd spent a long night on the road, stopping only for a short nap after the moon set.

  He passed several wagons moving along Fifteenth Street. Some hauled construction materials, while others transported goods to the market. No one gave Jones a second glance. There were plenty of cowboys in town.

  He bypassed three stables because he wanted to find one closer to his destination. He turned northwest at the diagonal street, Park Avenue.

  Wranglers had talked in the bunkhouse about the ride between the Denver house and the ranch all the time. With Mrs. Harris in town and Jason at the ranch, letters and banknotes were run twice a month between the two homes. Jones knew right where he was headed, even though he'd never made the run himself.

  The small livery stable at the edge of the neighborhood was just what he wanted. He turned his tired animal over to a young boy, along with a few pennies, took his bedroll and saddlebag over his shoulder, and paused to remember the directions. The wranglers had said it was a red brick, two-story just a couple of blocks east of Park, on Pence, easily recognized by the large 'H' old Quincy used to decorate the front door.

  Jones smiled as he walked along Pence Street. It felt good to stretch his cramped legs. The residential area still had houses going up. Most of the lots remained empty.

  Two blocks down, he spotted it. A smug grin stretched his face as he gazed across the street at the 'H’ on the door. A chuckle escaped his tobacco stained lips, and he spat a long string of tobacco on the road.

  The curtains were drawn, and windows closed. The house looked empty. He crossed the street and moved along the side of the building and into the small back yard. A carriage house sat to the right of the main building at the back of the lot. He passed it, stepped onto the back door landing and tested the door. Locked. The door to the carriage house proved to be locked as well. He took a step back and gazed up at the second floor. A small balcony jutted from a back bedroom. An easy jump from the roof of the carriage house.

  Jones pulled himself to the roof and tossed his bags onto the balcony. He jumped to the edge and stepped over the rail, giggling as tobacco juice ran down his chin. He couldn't stop smiling.

  He tried the balcony door, then removed his scarf, wrapped it around his fist and hit the window beside the door hard enough to break the pane. The tinkling sound of broken glass was loud in his ears. He stood still and listened. Not even a dog barked. He chuckled as he removed several long shards, then reached in and unbolted the latch. He was in. Now, all he had to do was have a small snack from his bag, a nap on the bed, and wait for the ladies. He tossed his bedroll and pack in the corner and flopped down on the bed.

  He had thought about that blonde-haired bitch all the way from The Highlands. She had looked so fancy in the moonlight wearing that expensive dress. He would have taken her right there if it hadn't been for that Shilo boy. He hadn't been able to hear too much of their conversation, but that was no matter. He'd heard enough to know she would meet him in Denver today.

  He reached down and rubbed his crotch. He was hard just thinking about the pretty little Harris girl. He turned and spat a long stream of tobacco against the wall and chuckled as the brown stain ran down to the floor. A few more hours and he'd have her right where he wanted her. Then, he'd tell that uppity little bitch just what he thought of her. He loosened his belt and rubbed himself. He would show her what he thought of her all right, and then he'd fuck her every which way he could think of.

  * * *

  Merril Shilo

  Merril and Tom kept a steady pace toward Denver. They rotated saddles and packs to the extra horses at each rest period.

  It was good Tom was with him, Merril decided. His impatience thrust them forward, and Tom's good sense and care for their mounts kept them at an even pace.

  They talked as they rode. Tom told Merril what he knew of Blackie, what type of gun the man carried and how well he rode. Jones had kept to himself around the bunkhouse. The wranglers disliked the man’s arrogant and spiteful ways and tended to avoid him.

  Merril's anxiety and fear kept him in the saddle. Amy's ointment helped the pain in his head but made him weary to the bone. He talked to stay awake more than anything else. He told Tom about their run-in with Jones at the pond and their rescue by the Cheyenne. He explained why Jim, Amy, and Nichole had left without warning for Denver. Merril told Tom all he had learned about his brother’s and Renata's attempt to force Nichole to wed Kevin.

  “Jones is a mean old cuss,” Tom agreed. “But for the life of me, I don't see how Jason let Kevin and Renata get away with forcing that announcement at the party. Nichole has always been your girl—at least, as far as I knew.”

  Merril caught Tom's sympathetic glance. “It came as a shock to me as well.”

  They topped a rise, and the land ahead sloped down into a long shallow valley. A half-mile away, a man walked his horse along the side of the road.

  “There's Jason,” Merril commented.

  “Yup,” Tom replied.

  Tom sounded so much like his father, Merril smiled. They picked up the pace to catch Nichole’s cousin.

  Jason turned when they drew near and waited for them to approach. “What's this?” he called as they reined in and dismounted beside him.

  Tom walked to Jason's gelding and took the reins. He ignored Merril and Jason as he looked Checker over.

  Merril stepped toward Jason, too many contradictory feelings and emotions in his mind. He didn't know what to do first—demand to know why he allowed Nichole to be bullied, punch him in the face, or tell him his wife was in mortal danger. He stopped walking and stared down into Jason's face.

  “Jones overheard Nicki and I talk last night about meeting in Denver today,” Merril said, his voice low and controlled.

  “You knew they were leaving?” Jason asked, clearly surprised.

  Merril's grin ticked up, and he clenched his teeth. He nodded once while he held Jason's gaze. “I was headed to Denver last night, but Jones got the drop on me and pistol-whipped the shit out of my head. I was out until this morning. You'd already left when I came around.”

  Jason looked at Merril and Tom, each leading an extra horse. His brow furrowed, and he looked back at Merril. “I'm sorry you were injured, but why are you both here now?”

  “I believe Jones left for Denver last night.” Merril rested his hands on his belt.

  Jason gaze rested on Tom as he moved Jason's saddle to one of the extra horses. “Well, then ... he could—he might already be in town!” Blue eyes widened in horrified understanding, and his voice rose in alarm. “You're trying to catch up with Amy and Nichole.”

  “You know, Jason, you could have prevented all this. Just how the hell does a man as smart as you muck things up as bad as you have?” Merril shook his head in disgust.

  Outrage flashed in Jason’s eyes, then his fair skin flushed, and he looked away. “Renata,” he muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Merril to hear.

  “Yeah, well, I warned you about her.” Merril watched Tom work with the horses. “Renata set up the fight between Kevin and me, and then cried rape.”

  “I assumed that,” Jason replied. “Nicki was desperate to find you when she heard.”

  Tom finished tacking Sadie with Jason's saddle and bent to unbuckle Merril's saddle from Ginger.

  “Let me do that, Tom.” Merril lifted the leather seat from Ginger.

  “You're still eight miles out, at least,” Tom said to Merril as he placed the blanket on Midnight's back. Merril set it on the blanket, and Tom reached for the cinch straps from beneath.

  “They could already be there,” Merril commented, adjusting the equipment while Midnight stretched his neck to bite at grass near the road.

  “Probably not,” Tom replied. “Don't panic yet. Keep the pace.”

/>   With no water nearby for the horses, Tom pulled a large tin bowl from his pack and an extra canteen. He put the pan on the ground and filled it to the rim, catching the interest of all five horses. He let the three horses they had been riding drink first, then refilled the bowl and allowed Sadie and Midnight to drink their fill. Soon, the horses were grazing alongside the road, and the three men stood silent, looking west.

  “It's farther than it looks,” Jason commented. A low haze lay across the valley below the mountains.

  “You should be able to make it to the house from here if you don't push your mounts too hard.” Tom glanced from the valley to the horses. “They're about spent.” He studied Jason and Merril then nodded toward the animals. “I'll stay with Checker, Rusty, and Ginger. After they've rested, I'll walk 'em the rest of the way into town.”

  “Let's go, then.” Merril caught Midnight’s reins and checked the saddle, his rifle, and his gun. After he mounted, he looked over at Jason, already astride Sadie. Their eyes met with the complete understanding of what was at stake.

  “Keep them to a trot. Any faster than that and they'll fall out, or come up lame,” Tom advised.

  Merril reached down to Tom, and the men shook hands. “Thank you. Wish us luck. I hope to see you at the house this evening.”

  Merril glanced at Jason, then shook his reins and headed down into the valley.

  Chapter 38

  Nichole Harris

  After several hours, Jim informed Nichole and Amy that they hadn't been followed. They stopped to rest the horses for thirty minutes and then continued.

  During their second break, Amy pointed out the halfway campsite. She gestured to a stand of trees about a hundred feet from the road. “At the end of that trail, there's a small creek and fire pit. June, Tom, and I camped there on our way to The Highlands last week.”

  Jim unhitched the horses from the buckboard and walked them to the water while Amy and Nichole strolled the other way to stretch their legs.

  As soon as they separated from Jim, Nichole whispered to Amy, “I spoke to Merril last night.”