29
The Present, Kelly Ranch, Colorado—Olivia
Kenzie and Olivia entered the kitchen at Kelly Ranch to find Elliott, JL, and David huddled in a serious conversation. Their heads popped up and their eyes darted from Kenzie to Olivia. They seemed to know without asking what had occurred upstairs. David filled a wine glass, and Elliott pulled out a stool.
“Sit down, lass.”
Elliott set his calloused hands gently on her shoulders. They were large, warm, and strong. Olivia knew he had spent years working as a large-animal veterinarian. She wondered how many skittish colts his hands had gentled and how many had kicked him in the shins, which was exactly what she wanted to do.
“We know ye’re upset with how this went down,” Elliott said.
“Upset?” she asked. “That’s a—”
Elliott held a finger close to her lips and looked at her straight on. “This is the time for listening.” There was more than a trace of his heavy burr in his voice. His eyes went hard, his face stern. “Connor did exactly what I told him to do. He was to stay with ye, protect ye from the sheriff. Ye see, when a lass named Amy Spalding disappeared with the diamond brooch, her boyfriend was charged with her murder, even though there wasn’t a body. We didn’t want that to happen to ye.”
Olivia sat straight, incensed. “No one would ever suspect me—”
Elliott held a finger to her lips again. “We know from experience innocent people are arrested. What we did, we did for yer protection. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but that’s the truth of it.”
There was a slight shift in Elliott’s posture and he stepped aside, making room for David, as if they were a well-trained tag team. “We’ve never had anyone in the circle who didn’t know the story of the stones from personal experience,” David said. “We’d hoped we could keep it from ye until Amber returned and told ye the story herself, thinking ye’d be more receptive to her telling than ours. We’re sorry ye found out before ye were ready to hear it.” David stopped and seemed to breathe heavier. “We believe there’s a problem with the stones Rick and Amber have with them. We’re going back tonight to bring them home.”
“Where are you going?” Olivia struggled for a less confrontational tone.
David pulled pieces of paper from his jacket pocket and handed one piece to Olivia. She opened the broadsheet. “Read the masthead,” he said.
“The Reveille. That’s Leadville’s first newspaper.”
“What’s the date?” David asked.
“November 1, 1878.”
“That’s the date I bought this paper from a newsboy in Leadville.” He handed her his cell phone. “Click on the camera app and scroll through the pictures.”
She put the broadsheet aside and scrolled through the photos, pausing at the video of Amber. A pressure band threaded itself around her head. It was an anger band, tightening inch by maddening inch. She gripped the phone, surprised it didn’t crush in her hand as it mirrored the ever-tightening band.
Her finger shook as she swiped to the next picture. “Where was this taken?”
“That’s an interior shot of Hughes Store on Harrison Avenue,” he said. “The man in the apron is yer seven-times great-grandfather. The woman beside him is his wife, Lindsey MacKlenna Hughes.”
They had a genuine look about them, not one created by a makeup artist or Photoshopped. She could see traces of her grandfather—something in his eyes. She shook her head as if coming out of a trance and swiped to the next picture.
“This guy looks like Connor. Is this Rick?” she asked.
“Aye. They performed five nights at the Tabor Opera House to a standing room only crowd,” David told her. “Mr. Tabor wanted to add matinees. Even offered to double the contract price, but Amber and Kenzie had every afternoon planned, and she didn’t want to give that up.”
“To do what?” Olivia asked.
“Shop, sightsee, have lunch with Mr. Hughes, or afternoon tea with Mrs. Hughes,” Kenzie said.
Olivia glanced up, and gave Kenzie a look that said, I don’t believe you.
Kenzie nodded. “Really.”
“Amber hates to shop, and to stop whatever she’s doing long enough for afternoon tea is unthinkable. How’d you talk her into it?”
Kenzie smiled. “I didn’t. She planned every outing. Told me at breakfast what we were going to do. We laughed nonstop.”
“Amber? Are we talking about the same person?” A single tear ran down Olivia’s cheek, and she patted it away. “She’s been unhappy for a long time. She’s wanted out of the law practice for over a year but didn’t want to hurt our parents like I did when I quit.” Olivia scrolled to the next picture, wondering what else she was going to discover about her sister.
“The woman in that picture”—Kenzie pointed—“is Mrs. Garland, the owner of the boardinghouse where we stayed in Leadville. She’s the sweetest lady. She had afternoon tea with us, too.”
The next picture was of Amber standing next to a stagecoach. Olivia’s imagination was fully engaged by the image, by Amber’s split-skirt traveling suit, a cute little hat that a gust of wind would carry off, and what looked like a bear coat slung over her shoulders. “I guess this is before she left Leadville for Denver.”
“That’s right before we parted,” Kenzie said. “She was so excited.”
Olivia scrolled to the next picture. “Who’s this man?” She enlarged the picture for a better look. “I’ve seen him before.”
“Someone who resembles him. Is that what you mean?’ Kenzie asked.
Olivia tapped his face. “No, him. You’re going to think this is strange, but I saw him outside the old Wells Fargo Building in Denver. Amber has an option…” Olivia sighed. “Had an option to buy. It’s expired now. But I met the owner there to negotiate the terms. The vision was only a flash, but I know it was him.”
“What do ye mean, it was only a flash?” Elliott asked.
“I see someone, a flashbulb goes off, and an image is preserved in my brain. Like a snapshot. I saw Connor in the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel years ago, long before I met him there.”
Elliott looked at her curiously, his head tipped to the side. “How often does this happened to ye?”
“Sometimes daily. Sometimes I’ll go weeks without having one.” She tapped the screen again. “So who is he?”
“Pinkerton Agent Daniel Grant,” Elliott said.
Olivia shot JL a look. “That’s who you and Connor were talking about.” Then she swung her gaze to Elliott. “JL said you were afraid Amber would stay in the past with him. She wouldn’t do that.”
Elliott’s brow, etched with worry, smoothed out and his concern visibly slipped away. “It always nags at me when brooches carry family members to the past. I worry they won’t come home.”
“What was Daniel wearing in the vision?” David asked.
Olivia thought a minute. “A long black duster, black suit over a white shirt, and a gray vest. He was crushing a piece of paper in his hand. I was about ten feet from him. He wasn’t happy.”
“Besides the Wells Fargo Building, what else did ye see?” David asked.
“Horses, wagons. That’s all I remember.” She continued staring at the picture. Then she put down the phone and picked up her wine glass. Something didn’t feel right, and she couldn’t put her thumb on it.
Kenzie sat on a barstool next to her. “Your visions are of people you’ll meet in the future. Right? Daniel doesn’t live in the twenty-first century. How could you have a vision of him if it’s impossible to meet him?”
The door to the back porch swung open and Connor entered the kitchen carrying a tray of grilled steaks. “Who’s hungry?”
Olivia’s eyes locked onto his and for the briefest of moments she forgot everything but the feel of his lips against hers. Then sadly, the moment passed, and all she remembered were the lies. She looked away, ignoring him, and picked up the phone again.
Kenzie broke the awkward silence, holding up t
wo freeze-dried packages: grilled red potatoes and oven-roasted asparagus. “If I understand this process correctly, all I have to do is add hot water and we’ll have gourmet dishes.” She grimaced at one package and then other. “I’m going in with an open mind, but I can’t imagine these tasting like anything other than cardboard.”
“You’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Connor said.
Kenzie’s eyebrow arched. “So you’ve tasted one of these?”
“Salmon, fruit, eggs, bacon. Each one was delicious,” Connor said, glancing at Olivia.
“Let’s eat in the dining room,” Olivia said. “I’ll set the table.” She scooted off the stool and escaped from the room. As soon as dinner was over, she’d see them all to the heliport and then she’d never have to lay eyes on any of them again.
She gave a white damask tablecloth a snapping shake and was spreading it over the table when Connor walked in. One corner was flipped up and he smoothed it down.
“Can we talk?”
“We don’t have anything to say to each other.” She grabbed a handful of silverware from a drawer in the credenza and with her hands shaking, slowly set the table.
“Have you forgotten you lied to me about Amber’s disappearances?” Connor asked.
Olivia moved from place setting to place setting without looking up at him. “If you’d told me the truth, I wouldn’t have had to cover for Amber.”
“So it’s okay if you lie to protect someone, but no one can do that for you?”
She stiffened, folded her arms, and held her elbows, struggling to keep herself together. Finally, she looked up at him. “I agonized for days over my sister and you knew she was safe, but you didn’t tell me. I can’t get over that.”
“The secret wasn’t mine to tell.”
“How did you think I would feel? Or did you even bother to think?” She swung open the china cabinet doors and decided to use her great-grandmother’s china and crystal instead of her mother’s. Her hands shook so badly that the plates rattled against each other. Before she broke one, she set them down on the corner of the table.
“I’m leaving in a couple of hours to go back for Amber and Rick.” Connor picked up the plates and set one down at each place setting. He then collected matching salad bowls from the cabinet and placed them around the table, too. When he finished with the plates and bowls, he found napkins in a partially open drawer of the credenza. While he disbursed the napkins, she set crystal glasses on the corner of the table, staggering them to make room for six. If he wanted to place the glasses, too, she’d let him. She didn’t trust herself to hold them.
When he finished with the glasses, he stood on the other side of the table and held onto the back of a chair. In a voice filled with regret but carrying an undercurrent of hope, he said, “I’d like you to go with us.”
“Go where? On some fantasy adventure? No thank you.”
He released his grip on the chair and moved toward the door. She took a step to follow him, because she wasn’t through talking, but her shoe caught on the chair leg and jolted the table, rattling the glassware.
Connor froze.
Olivia froze, so did her breath. When nothing crashed to the floor, her breath seeped out. “Do you think if I go that I’ll forgive you?”
His gaze switched from the table to her. “Tick through this situation, Olivia, and you’ll see it has little to do with me. I can almost bet some jerk lied to you and hurt you deeply. So now all lies are unforgivable, even those meant to protect you.
“Here’s the deal,” he continued. “If you don’t go with us there will always be a barrier between you and Amber that can never be breached. What she’ll remember as a life-changing experience, you’ll remember as one full of lies. She’ll be alone with her excitement, and you’ll be stuck in your anger. Is that what you want?” In an instant his eyes flickered and changed from dark and intimate to dark and somber. “It’s not what I want for you.”
“You’re dead wrong. I can enjoy Amber’s adventures without experiencing them firsthand. I’ve done that all my life.”
“See, that’s part of the problem. Your sister’s not afraid to fully live, to take risks, to climb to the top of the rock.”
“I’ve taken plenty of risks in my life. I gave up a high six-figure income to sell real estate.”
“That wasn’t much of a risk. You had a safety net, Olivia. You could have gone back to the law firm.”
He gazed over her shoulder, and she knew exactly what caught his eye. Hanging on the wall behind her was a picture of twelve-year-old Amber standing on her rock with her arms outstretched and Olivia on the ground gazing up at her. If he moved closer to the photograph, he’d be able to see Band-Aids on Amber’s knees and elbows. If he moved even closer, he could see Olivia’s spotless shorts and matching top.
His gaze drew back to her. “Someday the risk of remaining where you are will be scarier than taking a risk without a net.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Kenzie called from the kitchen. “Grab your plates from the dining room and let’s eat.”
“I’m done here. You have an hour to decide. What’s it going to be?” Defeat and loss were thinly veiled in Connor’s eyes. She tried to straighten her spine but failed, and instead, she dropped into the closest chair. He nodded, almost like making a final bow, and left the room. Footsteps retreated down the hallway until they were washed out by the opening and closing of the porch door.
Her anger and fear had mixed a powerful cocktail that flowed through her bloodstream and was making her physically sick. She gripped her belly. What should I do, Granny?
Forgiveness isn’t easy, Olivia. It often feels more painful than the hurt. But if you want to find peace, you must forgive. It won’t change what happened in the past, but it will change the future.
Olivia picked up a dinner plate and held it against her breasts, feeling as fragile as the china and wanting desperately to be as resilient as Tupperware.
30
1878 Colorado—Daniel
Sunlight glinted off the turbulent water of Bear Creek on the far side of the railroad tracks. The ageless sound of raging water, cold and swirling, as it tumbled over rocks and tangled debris moved Daniel to a rare state of peace. He tipped his head back against the leather stagecoach seat, feeling the strength of the fall sun upon his face. The cantering horses pulled the swaying stagecoach through the valley and into the small foothills toward the settlement of Morrison.
It was from there they would catch the train to Denver. It had been his intention to do further investigation at the Pinkerton Agency into the identities of Amber, Kenzie and David McBain, and Rick O’Grady. Now he wouldn’t have time. While in Leadville, though, he’d sent inquiries to the office in Chicago, which held the country’s largest criminal database and collection of mug shots, inquiring of the cousins but nothing was found. Nor was a record found of Amber having attended Smith College, much less graduating from Union College of Law in Chicago. She could have used a nom de plume. But why?
It was as if they’d all materialized out of a fog.
Amber and Kenzie McBain, especially, were enigmas to him. Although neither woman had mentioned being part of the vanguard of the national reform movement, they were both highly educated and progressive in their views and opinions on women’s rights, particularly their right to vote, so he assumed they were. While both were well-read, he found the lapses in their knowledge surprising. It was as if they’d slept through entire decades and had only been given summaries of the years’ events. If it had been only Kenzie or only Amber who had never heard of Joseph Glidden, who had patented barbed wire and was one of the richest men in America, it wouldn’t have seemed so unusual, but for both, it appeared highly suspect.
And so was the powerful attachment he had developed to Amber. No amount of deliberating could erase what had become an illogical passion. Her smile had snatched his heart in an instant.
The stage lurched, and the sudden jolt brought him back to the co
nfines of the stagecoach where Noah—with Ripley’s head in his lap—and Rick slept quietly on the rear-facing leather seat. Amber was also asleep, her head resting on Daniel’s shoulder. Her head had cushioned his cheek while he’d dozed off and on, and the rose scent of the soap she’d used in her hair had filled his nostrils and tantalized his imagination, locking him in his own dreamscape.
A stupor seemed to surround him now, as if he’d taken a few stiff drinks.
She opened her hazel eyes and smiled up at him, cheeks faintly flushed with pink. “Good morning, or is it afternoon?” Her languid smile, fresh from sleep, had him imagining her head on a pillow next to his.
“Mid-afternoon,” he said.
While the clacking stage rocked back and forth, a metronome in motion, she rolled her shoulders and stretched. “Thank you for being my pillow. Your arm must be numb by now.”
His arm had gone numb some time ago, but he hadn’t wanted her to move. “Aye, but I didn’t want to wake ye.”
She poured water from a canteen onto a handkerchief and washed sleep from her eyes. “You should have. I would have gone right back to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep at the Meyer Ranch stopover.”
After setting the handkerchief aside to dry, she separated the sections of her long golden-brown braid and ran her fingers from her scalp to the slightly curled ends. It had been five years since he’d watched a woman perform her morning ablutions, and he didn’t realize how much he’d missed those special moments. Amber washed her face and dressed her hair unabashedly, as if she always performed for an audience of one. An unaccustomed shot of jealousy sprang from his heart, stinging like nettles.
He was astute enough to recognize the unusual familiarity she had with Rick, but after watching them interact during late-night dinners and while performing on stage, Daniel was convinced their relationship wasn’t of a romantic nature. There was more expectation between them than sweet anticipation. But what cinched it for him was that Kenzie had the same familiarity with him. Yet she and her husband cared deeply for each other. Or so the moans and squeaky bedsprings coming from their bedroom late at night led him to believe.
The Amber Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 8) Page 34
