Circles

CHAPTER ONE: “ANNIE” The waning sun fell to sleep beneath the mountains, the golden glow melted like butter down the bricked buildings. The temperature fell quickly as if racing the sun. Anne Steck pulled her cardigan around her shoulders, little barrier to the mountain chill. The trees had been losing their leafy cover at an alarming rate, warning that winter would be coming soon and that summer was just about over. The changing seasons was a favorite time for Anne. The night air was crisp and tingled at her nose and ears. Her mind pricked at this sliver of time, “blue-dark,” that moment suspended between day and night when the sky gives way to starlight. It was a term her daughter Mansi had invented when she was about four and a half years old. It had stuck as a real word in their family. Anne always thought of Mansi as the day turning into night. Ouray, Colorado was quiet, a picturesque summer vacation retreat. Set in a most spectacular location in Colorado, with Mount Sneffels at the south end of the valley and Red Mountain to the North, Ouray claimed to appeal to the outdoorsman who liked to hunt, hike and jeep in the high country. It was also home to souls longing for quiet and relaxation. That is one of the reasons many came to enjoy the therapeutic waters of the Radium Hot Springs, just south of town. In the literature that Anne had read about Ouray, it had been touted to be the “Switzerland of America.” The brochure’s pictures had also alluded to the town’s historic character, evidenced by its well-preserved buildings. This feature had called to Anne. It had been enough for her to deviate from Highway 50 to take the scenic drive from Montrose, Colorado up to Ouray. Anne had always had a fascination for old buildings and homes; they seemed to encapsulate a piece of history that was protected and held over the centuries. Anne loved to visit a new city, find the historical area, and tour the Victorian homes. In her mind’s eye she could see the people who had lived and walked along the streets of long ago. Because so much time was spent reading as a book editor, the make-believe worlds she found herself in became almost real to her. Rick, her husband of twenty years, thought her silly and frivolous; he made harsh remarks about her over-sensitivity and her inability to escape her worlds of make-believe. He had no time or understanding of things which were part of her world, which hurt her deeply. It was a good book that took her away from her brick and mortar locale and sent her to a far-away land with far-away characters. If the story taught her something new, or gave her insight into lives and places she had not experienced, then she was even more enthralled with the story. Reading was her escape, and the fact that she got paid for her mini-“mind-vacations” was just the frosting on the cupcake. However, Rick did not appreciate her escapes into fiction. He resented the time she spent away “from us” when she was in a good book, and he had never treated her career as a “real” job because she did so much free-lance work. “It’s just a bonus check, not a regular paycheck,” he’d assert. It seemed to her that Ouray would be the perfect setting for a novel; good thing too, because Anne had lots of unwritten novels just filling her mind looking for a place to happen. So with that thought in hand, she had decided to “Seize the Day!” The car turned east off the freeway and here she was in Ouray, Colorado. The closer she had gotten to town, the more the majesty and simple splendor of the area had seemed to engulf her spirit. She felt an immediate affinity with the amphitheater of rock and tree that surrounded and protected the small Victorian community. Driving into town, she noticed the pool filled with people of all ages, and assumed that this must be the Radium Springs she had read about. For a second she wished she had brought her swimming suit. She continued driving up the main road into the business and restaurant section of town. Because it was the tail-end of the year’s tourist season, Anne enjoyed a respite from the normally crowded sidewalks of Main Street. Even so, a few shops had already closed for the winter season. However, some businesses stayed open all winter like The Nugget, The Outlaw, The Western, and the Tavern Bar, which appeared to be quite busy from the look of the crowded parking spots... (Insert photo #2, Duckett’s Market) The infamous Apeteka Drug and Liquor Store (run by the equally infamous Cassidy, or Cass, as she was known by the locals), the Variety Store, and Duckett’s Market were always open as well. Anne had stopped in for a cup of refreshment and a bit of conversation. That was when Andy, the owner, had told her all about Cass’s big old orange tomcat that roamed freely within and without the store. Andy was always glad for a customer and someone to gossip with Anne discovered. It had taken her more time than she had planned to extricate herself from his cozy establishment. He explained how Cass had found the stray kitten, ready to be put to death because of his ugly, half-formed harelip, and so she had brought him home and fed him soft cat food from her fingertips because he hadn’t been able to suckle up to his momma. Cass kept him alive and she became his momma. Cass named the little kitten, McGrath became of a story she had read of a famous old miner named Timothy McGrath who lived in Silverton in the days of glory, who was known for two things, his bright orange colored hair, and his bloody knife fights over women and beer.