Broken Wings (5 page)

They exited the car and strode up to
the wooden sidewalk, merging into the flow of tourists milling
along the city’s storefronts. They’d all come to visit the nation’s
largest historical landmark.

Passing by the Delta Saloon, Rio felt a
chill shiver through her. She tried to shake it off and something
inside her unraveled. Her shoulders shook.

“
The Suicide Table reaching
out here and grabbing hold of you?” He teased her with an elbow
nudge to the side.

Rio stopped. “What?”

He gestured toward the saloon in a
grand way. “The fabled Suicide Table.”

“
You’re joking.” She rolled
her eyes over him. “Right?”

He pointed a single finger upward, and
a sly smile curled on his lips as his eyes shifted upward. Rio’s
gaze followed his to the sign hanging above their heads advertising
the now-famous
Suicide Table
.

Billy told her all about how the
historical object, back in its day, was nothing more than a faro
table. Over the years, many versions of the misfortunes the card
table bestowed upon gamblers had grown into full-fledged
legends.

“
You want to go see it?”
Billy asked with an eager grin.

“
It’s just a stupid old
table…” Rio was starting to feel a little freaked out, but couldn’t
understand why. She needed to remain indifferent. And she would,
even if she had to put on a front. “What’s so great about
that?”

She took a couple of steps away from
him and he followed her. “You know…” He taunted her with a nudge.
“They say that anybody who’s ever owned that table has taken their
own life after losing their entire fortunes.” He enjoyed stretching
the truth. In all actuality, it was only three of the previous
owners that had met an untimely demise at their own
hands.

“
Well,” she said, her voice
oozing skepticism, “the current owner seems to be fairing
okay.”

They made their way along the wooden
sidewalk; Billy couldn’t resist the temptation to tease her a
little more. “You know…there’s ghosts all over the place up
here.”

“
Nuh-uh.” Her disbelief
seemed to freeze her features into a scowl.

“
Sure there is.” He pointed
to the Silver Queen, a hotel and saloon, just ahead of them. “Take
this place up here, for instance.” He nodded. “There was this girl,
and she was pregnant and unmarried.” They stopped in front of the
saloon while he weaved his tale. “When she realized her lover was
not going to make an honest woman of her...” Billy fell silent
while his eyes drifted up to the second floor. “She killed herself
in one of those rooms up there.”

Rio gasped. “That’s a terrible story.”
She didn’t know why, but she was bothered by the thought of some
poor girl being abandoned by a shady lover. She scrutinized Billy
for a moment and then decided, “You made that up.” She spun on one
heel and continued on.

“
It’s true.” He followed
after her with mischievous laughter echoing from his
throat.

They happened upon one of those photo
shops that take the old photographs. A twinge of familiarity
brushed past Rio. “Hey…” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go get our
picture taken.” The desire had come from out of nowhere, but she
dragged him inside with an eager enthusiasm that she couldn’t
explain.

In no time, Rio had dressed up like a
saloon girl in the old west. The costume was sexy. She looked good
in it and she knew it. Parading through each room, she wandered
around until she found the saloon backdrop.

She hopped up on the bar and struck a
pose. Billy sauntered through the doorway and strode across the
studio, wearing a cowboy hat and holding a bottle of
Jack
.
He leaned against the banister and nuzzled up next to her, resting
his free hand on his holstered gun.

She gazed at the camera, without much
thought of anything roaming around in her mind, and when the flash
went off the light blinded her for an instant.

When her eyes refocused, she was
standing in front of the Delta Saloon with two other women. They
were all dressed funny, in old-timey gowns. Rio felt like she was
wearing about a hundred yards of material, and she had on a corset.
She could tell because she could hardly breathe. She and the other
women, whom she thought looked a little like her, were about to
have their picture taken.

The camera’s flash sent her reeling
back to the present and back inside the photo studio. Rio looked
around, awe-struck by what she thought she’d seen and experienced.
She wasn’t sure what had happened, but that didn’t hinder her
nerves from making an appearance. They twisted and knotted in her
gut. “What the hell was that?”

“
You okay?” Billy skimmed
his fingers over her shoulder. “What’s wrong? You look like you saw
a ghost.”

Slowly, she let her gaze travel over to
look at him. She wanted to tell him what happened, but she was too
spooked.

“
What happened?” Billy’s
anxiety chased the curiosity out of his tone.

“
It’s weird,” she said in a
shaky voice. “I was with two girls and we were getting our picture
taken. But we were outside…in front of the place where that
deathtrap table is.” At that point, she realized she’d been posing
for the same picture that Turner had given her of the Fuller
sisters. “I was with Maggie’s sisters.” She could tell by the look
on his face that she’d thrown him a curve he hadn’t
anticipated.

Billy shook his head. “You need food.”
He led her in the direction of Muldoon’s, a restaurant not too far
up the street.

They strolled inside and Billy tipped
his head at a couple of the waitresses and made his way to a
specific table in the corner near the front. Rio dropped into the
chair opposite him.

He eyed her with a scrutinizing stare.
But Rio got that. She’d just told him she’d posed for a picture
that was taken over one hundred years earlier. Who wouldn’t be
concerned about that?

Hell, she wasn’t comfortable with it
herself—indicative of the fact that she was methodically
rearranging the packets of sugar and sugar substitutes.

She hadn’t given the strange chill
she’d gotten while walking past the Delta Saloon much thought when
it happened. But now, she was starting to make the connection that
it had happened in the same place where Maggie and her sisters had
posed for their photograph.

That was a little too
freaky.

“
This place makes great
burgers,” Billy said, distracting her. “And I think you could use
something to eat,” he added, in a more playful tone.

“
This is all your fault.” It
was going to take a lot more than humor to melt her fear. “You and
your stupid ghost stories.”

Billy chucked and shook his head. “You
take everything so serious. You need to lighten up.”

“
Yeah—” She snorted. “Like
you, huh?”

“
What do you mean by
that?”

“
Well, you’re not exactly
comfortable with your ancestry. You make a joke out of everything,
so you don’t have to deal with anything.” She tossed him a knowing
look. “Do you know how lucky you are to come from such a fantastic
family?”

“
Why?” He couldn’t help but
laugh. “Because you’re in it?”

“
You don’t like talking
about your family, do you?”

“
They’re your family,
too.”

“
Don’t avoid the subject,”
she said. “Why don’t you want to discuss them?”

“
What’s to discuss?” He’d
rather avoid the subject all together. He knew where she was headed
and he didn’t want to join her.

“
Maggie and Tajan,” she
said. “You were supposed to tell me about them.”

“
I’ll tell you about them,”
he said, “but I don’t like the story.” He shook his head. “So don’t
ask me to.”

“
What’s not to
like?”

“
Their great love.” He
mocked the idea. “It ended up costing Tajan his life.”

“
Would you rather they’d
never met?”

“
Well, now…if that were the
case,” he said, “you and I wouldn’t be here...now would
we?”

Ever since he could remember, Billy had
always placed the blame for Tajan’s death solely on Maggie Fuller’s
shoulders. As a direct result, he thought he should form a natural
aversion for Rio too, since she appeared—physically anyway—to be
the second coming of the woman he despised.

His plan failed miserably.

Instead of disliking her, he found a
kindred spirit in Rio. Finally, someone had come along who was just
like him.

An Indian trapped in a white person’s
body.

~~~~

PART TWO

THE LEGEND

~~~~

CHAPTER 9

In the early part of 1863 the Fuller
sisters had spent a lot of time in Virginia City, plotting and
planning their caper. Finally the day came and they managed to get
away with a shipment of gold and silver. Immediately, they took the
treasure out into the hills and buried it, where they intended to
leave it until the frenzy surrounding the robbery died
down.

Things would have been fine, too. If
they hadn’t run out of money.

The Fuller sisters were as resourceful
as they were audacious. Heading down to Carson City, they robbed
the bank.

The job should’ve gone smoothly. It was
the same heist they’d pulled off time and time again. An early
morning break-in; get in and out before anybody’s even awake. But
this time, something went wrong.

Rushing through the bank’s back door,
the girls mounted their horses and headed around front. They were,
for all intents and purposes, well on their way out of town—until
they ran into the sheriff and his deputy.

Maggie knew right away that the sheriff
must have had a pretty good idea about what he’d happened upon. But
she doubted he knew the well-disguised bandits were
women.

The lawmen’s sudden appearance did
little to dissuade the sisters. It didn’t stop them from trying to
make a break for it by splitting up and heading out in different
directions.

The sheriff drew his weapon. Unaware of
the outlaws’ gender, he raised his gun and aimed at the closest
one.

A shot rang out and Maggie’s heart
leapt into her throat. She couldn’t bear the thought of one of her
sister’s being shot. She glanced over her shoulder.

The deputy’s gun was drawn. He
hesitated. Even with the distance between them, Maggie could easily
guess that he was trying to decide who to aim for. After a few
seconds of indecision, he turned his gun on Maggie.

Maggie nudged her horse Lightning with
a kick of her heels and a sharp whistle. Lightning picked up speed.
Shortly after, the second shot rang out. Maggie closed her eyes and
sucked in a deep breath, somehow realizing what was
coming.

The bullet pierced her
shoulder.

She wasn’t about to let a little thing
like getting shot stop her from escaping, and nudged Lightning
again. They needed to move faster.

She had no idea her little sister Molly
had been shot, much less killed.

Maggie’s instincts took over, driving
her toward the forest surrounding Lake Tahoe. The wooded area was
the only place in the barren desert that she was going to find
cover.

Blood poured from the awkward injury on
the edge of her shoulder, but she convinced herself to ignore it.
For now. She rode several miles before she felt safe enough to stop
and tend to her wound.

She hid behind a bushy Pinion Pine and
fumbled with the scarf around her neck, untying it with one hand.
She used it to apply pressure to her injury and within seconds
blood had soaked through the scarf.

Confusion distorted her mind’s ability
to think. Maggie stumbled back into the bristles of the tree, but
felt nothing of the prickling pine needles. Her mind faded into
deeper darkness. She fought it but the task was too great. Maggie
slumped to the ground and her head a rock. She slipped into
unconsciousness.

About a mile away, Tajan was riding
bareback through the forest on his magnificent pony, Pico. The
horse maintained a steady pace as Tajan dodged the trees. Wind
whipped his waist-length hair. Pine needles scraped his bare torso.
He urged Pico to go faster. He loved nothing better than riding in
the forest at full speed. He never actually lost track of where he
was, but sometimes he would get a little surprised at how far he’d
ridden.

There was a time when he was younger
that he’d misjudge his surroundings and end up tangling with the
limb of a tree. Those days, the tree always won. But those days
were long gone. These days, he could ride through the forest with
his eyes closed. And he could do it on any horse.

Tajan continued on his outing that
fateful day, reining his pony to a trot as he approached a thicket.
The stationary horse caught his eye. His own horse fell into a slow
gait and he scanned the area.