Breathe: A Novel of Colorado by Lisa T. Bergren Read Free Book Online

Dominic tossed his head back and broke his nose, then
found his footing and came forward with a solid right for the third
man, who was descending upon him.
    He could hear Moira screaming at him, then begging him to stop
through her tears, but it had been too long. Too long since he had felt
so strong, so alive. He wanted to stay here, among the living, feel vital,
for as long as he could. No St. Clair woman would ever feel the need to
fear for her well-being in this town as long as her brother was around.
This was why Father had sent him with them. To protect them. He had
said to use his brain as well as his brawn. Not his brain alone ...
    Nic lifted the first man from the ground by the collar, backhanded him, then punched him. The second man surprised him, bringing a
mine-forged hand into Nic's back. He gasped as shooting pain emanated from his kidney; from far away he wondered if this was what
it felt like to be Odessa, always trying to steal a breath like a beggar
before. He rose, keeping watch, instinctively knowing the third man
was on his feet, when that man pounded a fist past his cheek and
almost into his eye.

    Nic felt the flesh tear loose, and a warm gush of blood blinded
him. Moira screamed and Nic braced for the next punch, again to his
belly. He doubled over and the man rammed a knee up into his face.
Nic's head spun and he fell to the ground.
    "Please! Please stop!" Moira begged, and suddenly all three did
as she asked, mumbling apologies, brushing off their clothes, moving
away.
    Moira sank to her knees beside Dominic. "Nic? Nic, can you
hear me?"
    He laughed, little more than a breath of folly. "How can I help
but hear you? You're screaming in my ear."
    "Nic, you can't do this. Not here. We can ill afford enemies and
Papa isn't-" Her voice abruptly fell away.
    He squinted upward when a new figure stepped between him
and the sun. "A mere five days in my town," the newcomer said, "and
you're already brawling, Mr. St. Clair? I thought we had words about
this already."
    The sheriff.
    Nic set his head back down and swallowed some blood. And
then he laughed, laughed as he had not for years.

     

Chapter

5
    Odessa awakened late again, nothing but black at her window and a
low-burning lamp in the corner.
    "Oh, Odessa," came a voice beside her. "I'm so glad you are
awake. I had no idea a person could sleep so long."
    Odessa turned and studied her sister beside her. "Why are you
here?" She moved again and for the first time recognized the pull
of the bandages. Wearily, she raised a hand to her face and touched
them. "What happened?"
    "You fell-scared us all to death," Moira said, her tone moving
from care to complaint.
    "Didn't intend to," she said. Every word scraped out of her throat
and out through parched lips as her memory of the event returned.
"May I have a sip of water?"
    "Of course." Moira stepped toward the bedside table and poured
from a sweating pitcher into a pewter mug marked with the St. Clair
"S" on the side. "I wouldn't hear of them leaving any more glass
near you," she said with a smile, "and the tin mugs simply won't do.
I unpacked a few of our trunks. I knew you loved those mugs." She
wrapped an arm behind Odessas neck and helped her take a sip, then
another. Never had water tasted so good to her. It tasted of home.
    "Ah. Bless you," Odessa said, leaning back into her pillow. "It's as
if I haven't had a drink in years."

    "Air's so dry here, I can't get enough. I imagine it's even more
difficult on you."
    Odessa glanced at her. Moira always preferred to steer clear of
Odessa when she was in her "weakened state."
    "Where's Nic?"
    "Nic?" Moira asked, covering her mouth as she yawned. "Aren't I
enough? I thought you'd be happy with your baby sister here."
    Odessa sighed and closed her eyes. She struggled to make sense
of her memories, of what had transpired. She'd been on her feet,
intent on something ...
    A low snore sounded from the corner of the room.