had been left behind.
“Sorry, Monkey Pete,” Hollister said. “In all the excitement we forget to grab the Ass-Kicker also, so it’s gone too, and I expect Winchester ain’t going to be too happy about that either. Besides, your damn dynamite nearly got us killed, so stop whining.” Pete groused and muttered a few curses but eventually came around.
The train chugged into Denver, and Hollister was happy to see the warehouse again. He’d come to think of it as home. Which was strange because there was nothing homelike about it.
On the way Shaniah and Hollister made no attempts to hide their relationship. But to Jonas it felt as if a veil of melancholy had descended over her and he couldn’t tell why. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t jolly her out of it.
They arrived about three o’clock in the afternoon. The warehouse became a hub of activity as the train was resupplied and restocked. Shaniah and Hollister stayed in his cabin until it grew dark.
“There’s something I’ve got to go do,” he said. “When I get back, let’s take a walk. Sound good?”
She stood and took him in her arms. She kissed him, a long lingering kiss.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“For what you did for me. For my people. For keeping your promise.”
“Huh,” he said.
Chapter Eighty
Declan hadn’t heard from Slater or any of his men and he was starting to get nervous. He entered his mansion at dusk and went to the study.
He was pouring the bourbon from his decanter when he realized a man was sitting at his desk. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted, spilling bourbon all over himself and the floor.
“Good evening, Senator,” Hollister said.
“Is that you, Hollister? What the hell are you doing here, trespassing in my house? By God, I’ll have you arrested!” His heart sank. If Hollister was here, then it meant Slater was probably dead. This was not good. Not good at all.
“I don’t think you’ll have me arrested. I don’t think you’ll do much of anything. In fact, in another forty-eight hours I don’t even think you’ll be a senator anymore.”
“What? Are you out of your mind? Get out of my house,” he said.
Hollister pulled a letter out of his vest pocket.
“I found this letter in Slater’s saddlebag. He’s dead, by the way. Pretty interesting, you transferring all this land and money to him, right before he comes trying to kill me.”
“That letter doesn’t prove anything,” the senator said. “I was simply rewarding an employee for years of loyal service.”
Hollister stood up and walked toward the senator, who instinctively backed up.
Hollister kept moving forward, the senator backpedaling until he was nearly standing in the fireplace.
“I think whether it proves anything or not isn’t up to you or me. I think I’ll send a copy of it to the governor and the president. Just for the hell of it, see what they think about it.”
“You-you-wouldn’t do that…” Declan stammered.
Hollister folded the letter back up and put it back in his pocket. “Your reaction tells me everything I need to know. Here’s what’s going to happen.”
Hollister stepped over to the table holding the decanters and poured himself a large glass of bourbon.
“First, you are going to get your son some help. Get him out of that bedroom, find an asylum or some doctors somewhere who will help him. Then you’re going to resign from the senate and you’re never going to run for any kind of office again. Ever. And third, you’re going to give back all the land you stole from the farmers and ranchers. Every acre. Give it back to the state, land grants, I don’t care. It goes back to the original owners if they still want it.”
“You’re insane,” Declan said.
“I am. If you’d seen what I saw, you’d be insane too,” Hollister said.
“I’m not doing any of these things.” Declan snorted.
“You will. You have two days.” Hollister put down the glass and walked back to where Declan stood. He drew his Colt, thumbing back the hammer. He put the barrel under Declan’s chin. The senator closed his eyes, tears escaping and running down his cheeks.
“You will do it, in two days. Or I”ll come back and kill you. Your choice,” Hollister said. “And don’t try sending anyone after me. Slater was as good as there was. Just not good enough.”
He left the mansion, the senator’s eyes still closed and tears cascading down his cheeks, long after Hollister was gone.
Chapter Eighty-one
Shaniah went to the stock car and led Demeter down the ramp. He was saddled and ready to go. It was best this way. She was an Archaic who needed to return to her people. Hollister was a human being who needed to get on with his life and though she should not have these feelings for him, she did. It would be a clean break.
She mounted Demeter and was startled to find Chee standing on the other side of her horse, the ever- present Dog at his side.
“You’re leaving,” he said.
“Yes. It’s best this way,” she said.
He studied her a moment. “I agree,” he said.
“You don’t like me,” Shaniah said.
“No. Not really,” Chee answered.
“Why?”
“You think you love the major and he loves you. He does. But it cannot be,” he said.
“And so you hate me because he fell in love with me?” she asked.
“No. I hate you because you are an Archaic. And we are enemies, like the lion and the lamb,” he said.
“We leave humans alone,” she said. “We have for centuries.”
“For now. But it will not always be that way,” he said.
“Then hate me. If as you say, that is how it must be,” she said.
He nodded.
“Will you tell him I said good-bye?” she asked.
“I will not,” Chee answered.
“Why not?”
“It will only make it harder for him,” he said.
“I do not understand you, witch-man,” she said.
He shrugged.
She reined Demeter around and started on her journey home. Before she reached the warehouse door, she heard Chee call out to her and she stopped, wheeling Demeter around to face him.
“Did you tell him?” Chee said.
“Tell him what?” Shaniah asked, her voice cracking. He couldn’t know. It was far too soon. How could he tell? She was more convinced than ever he was a witch.
“To leave without telling him you are carrying his child is cowardly. He has a right to know,” Chee said.
“He can’t know… I’m not… it isn’t possible,” she stammered.
“But nevertheless it has happened. And you must tell him. It is only right,” Chee said.
She spurred Demeter close to Chee.
“You will not tell him. If you do, so help me, I will kill you, witch-man,” she said.
