HT02 - Sing: A Novel of Colorado Read Online Free PDF Page B

attachment to the herd, the way he nicknamed every horse, even those destined for the train. All his life, he loved spending time with horses, nearly as much as he loved the sea. “I’m as well as I can be. It’ll be good to have the bodies gone. I don’t want any mountain lions venturing over and then deciding to seek fresh flesh.”
    He felt her shiver behind him, and he regretted his words. She leaned her forehead against his back. “I love you, Bryce.”
    “I love you, too.” He swallowed hard, wondering if now was a good time to voice his concerns or if he should keep them to himself. Somehow, somehow , there had to be a way … “We’ll make it through,” he said, over his shoulder. “You know that, right?”
    “I do. Do you? Or are you merely saying the words a worried wife would want to hear?”
    He turned to face her, and caressed her lovely sculpted cheek with his free hand. “I believe it. The Circle M hasn’t endured loss like this since the early days, when we’d lose half the herd to rustlers. But if my uncle could make it then, we can make it now.” He leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly, and then pulled her close. They stood there for a time, the three of them, a solace to one another in their silence. Even the baby was quiet, staring up at Bryce. But Bryce’s mind was filled with memories—of letters of their losses to his father from an uncle. Bryce’s father, so far away, blamed him for mismanagement, lack of judgment.… He could still hear the recriminations in his mind, how the man would carry on for hours, how his mother would try to assuage his fury.
    Bryce looked up at the stable rooftop. He had failed the Circle M, endangered all they had built. He’d chosen water rights over building snow shelters. At the time it made complete sense. But now …? He shook his head.
    Odessa glanced up at him, eyes squinting with curiosity. “What is it?”
    He forced a smile and shook his head again. “Oh, just trying to see my way clear. Figure out our best course now that we’re at this new juncture.”
    “You’ll find it,” she said with a squeeze, then released him and took the baby from his arms. “You always do.”
    “Thank you, Odessa. For trusting me.”
    She looked more deeply into his eyes, and Bryce wondered at the brilliant blue-green of hers, so like the sea … so like the waters he would soon enter again. “Bryce? Is there something else?”
    “No, sweetheart. You be on your way and I’ll be on mine.”

Chapter 4
    25 March 1887
    “How’re those hands?”
    Nic looked over to William, who was again sharing a bit of conversation as they ate their breakfast. He swallowed his mouthful of gruel and held up one bandaged hand to show his new friend. “Coming along. I keep breaking open the wounds every time I take up a rope, though.”
    “You dipping them in seawater thrice a day?”
    “’Bout kills me every time.”
    “Stings like the devil, but nothing will heal them faster. Trust me.”
    Nic nodded and dug back into his bowl of gruel. At least he was now spared the splicing duty. He had been moved into the ranks of standard crewman. He admitted to himself that he liked climbing to the lanyards, high above the decks, the water racing beneath them, and hauling in sail, lashing them down. The other sailors were easing their jibes and taunts, grudgingly accepting him. They called him “Brawler,” rarely using his name, as they had dubbed William “Scholar,” making fun of his uppity language. Nic shrugged off their teasing and dug in beside them, doing more than their own shares, making it nigh unto impossible for them to complain about him. They were worthy workers, even if few educated men ever wandered the decks of a brig other than captains and first mates looking to gain their own commission or ship. The Mirabella was a private vessel, a merchant mariner out of Rio. She carried in her belly a wealth of spices and wood and was bound for Mexico, or if the