Blood on the Mountain Page 4

  “It took you all day to notice your wire had been cut?” Joel asked. Jacob marveled that the once quiet and respectful boy was now taking these men to task.

  “Well, now, hold on Joel. Elk Springs is not a busy place. Sometimes we go days without using that machine. There’s no way to know exactly when he made the cut, but we suspect Pickens probably did it just before he took that poor girl.”

  “So, then, Parr left to get word to the lawmen and …” he trailed off. “And then the next day you two showed up.”

  Joel groaned and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the unfinished wooden table.

  Chapter Six

  Jacob nodded, his mind racing at all the things he had to do to clean up this mess the men of Elk Springs had created. He didn’t say anything, but sat up and continued to eat, putting forkfuls in his mouth and thinking while every man at the table watched him for a reaction.

  The first thing they needed to do was figure out where Pickens might have taken the girl. And why. Why Flora? He assumed she was an attractive young woman which could be reason enough for a man like Pickens to kidnap her. He didn’t want to think about what that meant for Flora’s prospects or even her survival. He would deal with that later. Once she had been found.

  The next thing they had to do, and Jacob groaned inwardly at realizing this, was find a different horse for him to borrow. Franny would have been perfectly fine for a few days away from town, but Jacob was no longer on that track. The poor, sensitive mare was in no state to go with him chasing down an outlaw. Jacob needed a reliable animal, familiar with the area and less easily agitated.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Jacob said as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Mr. Colfax and I are going to find Flora Kimball. You can stay put in Elk Springs, going about your regular business, telling yourself the Kimballs don’t deserve your help. Or you can set aside your prejudice and join us in rescuing a helpless girl before something worse happens to her.”

  Jacob wasn’t one for making speeches and he felt self-conscious the entire time those six sets of eyes were on him. But it needed to be said. These men were being selfish and hard-hearted and that poor girl must be scared out of her mind.

  He could help her. They could save her. But they needed to get moving.

  Joel stood up next to him, also searching the faces of the other men for some sign that Jacob’s words had gotten through to them.

  Most of them shook their heads or continued eating with their eyes down, not looking at Jacob. But Jacob caught two of the men whispering to each other at the far end of the table. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but neither man seemed defiant.

  “We’ll be off now,” Jacob said. “If you change your mind, we’ll still take your help at any time. Come on, Joel.”

  “Wait. We’re coming with you.”

  Jacob was already at the doorway of the Elk Springs Tavern when he heard himself being called back. He turned to see the two men who had been whispering throw cash down on the table and stand up to join him.

  “Wait for us,” the shorter one said.

  The other men watched them go. Jacob felt a stab of disappointment in their behavior. A man should be generous and brave. Even if he thought a neighbor was strange, that shouldn’t stop him from keeping the neighbor’s daughter safe. But, Jacob reflected, it takes all kinds to make this world and if some men weren’t unscrupulous then he would eventually find himself out of work.

  Jacob gestured for the two men to join them outside, standing on the boardwalk lining the dusty street.

  “Hey. Name’s Zeke. Ezekiel Boyer,” the shorter one said as he shook Jacob’s hand. “And this is my brother-in-law Boyd Brannigan.”

  “What can I do for you, gentlemen? I think I made it clear that this young man and I have things to do.”

  “Right. You did. And we’d like to help. We know Kimball a fair amount and we don’t believe what the reverend is claiming.”

  “And, besides, even if it was true, that girl still needs help.”

  “So we want to go with you. Just tell us what to do.”

  Jacob looked at Joel who shrugged. The bounty hunter preferred to work alone, and now he had somehow formed himself a posse with three other men. If they did actually follow directions, maybe he could get use out of them.

  “Alright. You can help. But you do exactly as I say at all times. No questions, no protests. Got it?”

  They both nodded.

  “Let’s start with any information you have that might not have been mentioned in there.” Jacob gestured with a tip of his chin. “Any thoughts about where to start?”

  Boyd spoke up. “I keep coming back to what Sheriff said. He pointed out that it was Kimball’s daughter that was kidnapped, not anyone else’s. Why is that? Why is Flora special?”

  “Isn’t there another girl?” Zeke asked. “I think I heard there are two older daughters. Why this one and not the other?”

  “Edith,” Joel said, nodding. “She’s fifteen, I think.”

  “Could have just been a matter of access. Maybe Flora was just isolated at the exact right time for him to strike,” Jacob said. “But you’re right. I think that’s a good place to start. We’re going to have to find the start of the trail to go after him, and maybe we can get some answers once we’re there.

  “Joel, you know Mr. Kimball the best. Do you think he’d put us up for the night?”

  The boy nodded eagerly. “He would. But we should get moving. It’s almost an hour’s ride out to their place.”

  Jacob let Joel lead the string of riders out the several miles to Kimball’s farm. This stretch of forest looked much the same as the trail and forest they passed through to get to Elk Springs. Jacob spent a very tense hour, waiting for some small sound to spook Franny and send them galloping away in the wrong direction. The men stayed quiet on the ride out to the farm, each lost in his own thoughts about the following day and chasing the trail of an outlaw.

  “Hello, the house!” Joel called as they approached. “Mr. Kimball?”

  The front door of the home swung open, revealing a silhouetted figure in the doorway. The figure appeared to be a hulking man, bareheaded but holding a shotgun ready. It occurred to Jacob that if this was Mr. Kimball, Pickens must have been out of his mind to risk kidnapping his daughter.

  “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me, Mr. Kimball,” Joel said, raising his hand to wave. “Joel Colfax. We heard about Flora and I brought some help.”

  “Joel? Boy, I haven’t seen you in months. Come in.”

  As soon as he stepped back out of the doorway, the light spilled across his face, and Jacob saw the gentle, careworn face of a worried father, instead of the menacing patriarch that had been there a moment before. The four horses were ground tied in front of the porch, and the men stepped cautiously into the house. Disturbing a family’s grief was a difficult thing. They were there to help, to offer hope, but at the same time they didn’t want to dismiss or diminish the pain that the members of the family might be feeling.

  “Ah, Mr. Brannigan. Mr. Boyer,” Kimball said as they entered. “It is good of you to assist. I know what Reverend Fowler has been saying about my family, and I know it must be difficult for you to go against the community.

  “But who’s your friend?” he asked, looking piercingly at Jacob. “I don’t believe you’re from Elk Springs.”

  “No, sir.” Jacob doffed his hat and offered his hand. “Name’s Jacob Payne.”

  “He’s a bounty hunter,” Joel said. “He was passing through Cork when we heard about Flora and agreed to come with me.”

  Jacob smiled at this slight revision of history, but let the boy have his claim. Truth be told, Joel likely would have come with or without Jacob anyway.

  “Who is it, Father?” a small, sweet voice called from the doorway.

  “Come in here, Mary. Come say hello to Joel Colfax and his friends. They’re here about Flora.” A petite woman, not much older than Jacob entered the ro
om from the hallway. She gripped her skirt, as though to anchor herself in the space. “Gentlemen, may I introduce my wife?”

  “Oh,” she gasped, clasping her hands to her chest. “Are you really here for Flora? Can you find her?”

  “I think we can, ma’am. But we have some questions, and we were hoping it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition … ”

  “We’ll help any way we can. I’m not sure we know anything, though.” Mary sat primly on the edge of the rigid chair.

  “You might be surprised about what kind of details will help.” Jacob pulled his chair closer to where the woman sat. “Take me back to when Pickens showed up here.”

  She looked at her husband, and he gestured for her to go ahead.

  “Mr. Payne, you mustn’t think me weak or foolish. We don’t know the face of every man that lives in Elk Springs. It didn’t occur to me until he had already been here a while that Mr. Pickens might be a stranger.”

  “I don’t think you’re foolish at all. I imagine he made himself mighty handy and ingratiating when he got here, didn’t he?”

  She nodded. “He did.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “Well.” She fidgeted, smoothing the fabric of her skirt more than needed. “My husband was out past the pasture, breaking down a tree stump. Mr. Pickens had promised to help, but had found many reasons to stay around the house. He’d busy himself with all sorts of tasks and never make it out to where he was actually needed. It wasn’t until I sent Flora out to the chicken coop that I realized Mr. Pickens was gone too.”

  Her husband moved to behind her chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. She reached up to lightly touch his fingers, acknowledging the comfort. It did Jacob’s heart good to see such tenderness between the two. For another couple, there might be anger or blame, but the Kimballs seemed united in their pain.

  “And when you sent Flora out to get the eggs, that’s when he took her?”

  Mrs. Kimball nodded. She looked ready to cry, to Jacob’s eyes, but held herself together.

  “I didn’t hear any of it,” she said in a whisper. “My husband was even further away. Thank goodness Edith was out near the well at the time and heard the screaming.”

  Jacob looked around the room, but noticed the other teenage girl was nowhere in sight. “And, is Edith okay? Was she attacked as well?”

  “No, no. The poor dear is just in shock. She’s been in bed since it happened. We’ve told her it’s not her fault and she couldn’t have stopped him. But she feels responsible.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Joel said indignantly. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Not now,” Jacob said under his breath. “Let’s wait til we find her sister.”

  “Edith even followed them for a spell, but couldn’t keep up. Thank the Lord above. I can’t bear to think about losing them both.”

  “So, Edith knows where they went?” Jacob looked hopefully at Mr. Kimball.

  He nodded. “She says Pickens was dragging her down the trail that continues up the mountain behind my place. The one you all used to explore back in the day,” he added to Joel.

  The young man’s eyes grew wide. “Our trail? I know where that is. I can find her.” He stood up excitedly. Jacob felt the first glimmer of hope in the whole affair.

  “We’ll find her, Mr. Kimball. I promise.” Jacob believed that was true, but hoped they would also find her alive and unharmed.

  Chapter Seven

  Jacob woke before dawn, rolling over in the hay and staring up at the roof of the barn. The deep navy blue night sky was just beginning to grow lighter through the gaps in the walls. The Kimballs’ rooster out in the chicken coop was beginning his morning ritual. The four men would need to be on the trail as soon as possible. Since they had already missed the prime window immediately after the kidnapping, it’d be best to do this as prudently and carefully as possible.

  As he rolled over and got to his knees, Jacob thought he heard the gentle thuds of horse hooves approaching the barn. Immediately he wrapped his fingers around the handle of his revolver. Who would be riding up to this out of the way farm this early in the morning unless they meant to surprise the family unawares?

  “What—?” Joel said, as he woke.

  “Shh,” Jacob warned, gesturing the boy to stay down as he crept to the wall of the barn. There, right about the height of his eyes, was a small gap in the boards. The bounty hunter held his gun ready and watched for the approaching stranger.

  Within seconds, both Boyd and Zeke were armed and at his side, waiting for whatever Jacob instructed them to do.

  The horse and rider got closer and through the narrow crack, Jacob watched a stranger dressed all in black approach the house, slowing as he got closer and eyes darting in every direction looking for something. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t make a sound. But as he dismounted he drew his gun and crept toward the house slowly.

  Jacob didn’t like it one bit.

  Just as he was about to confront the stranger, next to him Zeke said, bewilderedly, “That’s Reverend Fowler.”

  “Is it?” Jacob pressed. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded.

  “Go greet him,” Jacob instructed. “He needs to know he’s not alone.”

  He waited in the dark barn, watching carefully as Zeke rounded the corner, exited through the wide door and called to the new arrival.

  “Reverend Fowler! What are you doing here?”

  The man in black started, surprised to be seen at all, let alone spoken to. “What? I—”

  “You wouldn’t be here looking to join our posse would you?”

  “Of course not.” The reverend seemed offended at the suggestion.

  Jacob stepped out through to doorway, revolver in hand, eyes boring into the newcomer. “Then what is it we can help you with?”

  “I … well, I …” he sputtered. The reverend closed his mouth, stood up straighter and adjusted his coat. “I’ve come to offer my condolences to Mr. Kimball for his loss and extend to him the path to the kingdom of heaven before it’s too late.”

  Jacob rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go see what Mr. Kimball has to say about that.”

  “No, I—”

  “Oh, we’re going with you, Mr. Fowler, is it? We need to speak to the man before we leave to rescue his daughter. I’m sure he won’t mind having us both there.” Jacob grabbed the upper arm of Reverend Fowler none too gently and marched him toward the front door of the farmhouse, with the rest of his party following closely behind.

  As they climbed the steps to the porch, the front door opened and Mrs. Kimball stepped out with an armful of cookware.

  “Let me help you with that, ma’am,” Joel said as he moved to relieve her of her burden. From her hands he took a heavy pitcher of steaming water and a wide ceramic basin.

  “Oh, thank you, Joel. Let me go get you boys some towels and soap now.”

  Jacob kept his fingers gripped around the reverend’s arm, and watched as Joel set up the basin on the rail of the porch. The kid grinned at him as he realized what Mrs. Kimball had brought them.

  “We have time to wash up before we go, right, Mr. Payne?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.” It might be the last chance they get at real soap and hot water for a while; they might as well take the extra five minutes to enjoy it.

  Mrs. Kimball returned to the porch, carrying further supplies for her guests, with her husband right behind her. Joel busied himself with the water while Jacob handled the visitor.

  “My wife tells me—” he began, stopping when he noticed Reverend Fowler. “What can I do for you, Reverend?” he asked, his voice cold.

  Reverend Fowler shook off Jacob’s grip and again straightened his jacket. With his arm now free, he removed his hat, nodding politely to Mrs. Kimball before dropping his voice in reverence.

  “Mr. Kimball, I’ve come to pray with you. To offer myself as a intercessor with our Lord Jesus Christ, on behalf of your family and your dearly
departed Flora.”

  “Now, my Flora might be dear to me, and she might have temporarily departed this farm, but I don’t like your tone.” He frowned. “I don’t like what you are insinuating.”

  “I understand it may be difficult to accept,” Reverend Fowler said, placing his hand over his heart. “But this is a chance, sir. An opportunity. God has spared your life and granted you more time on earth to accept him as your Lord and Savior and—”

  “Hold on now just a minute.” Kimball clenched one of his giant, meaty hands into a fist. “My God is the same as your God. You can’t come here, come on to my land and tell me I am any less saved than you.” He punctuated his sentence by stepping forward, pointing his finger at the reverend and pushing it hard into his chest.

  Reverend Fowler stumbled backward a couple steps. Jacob watched, ready to break them apart if necessary. Though Kimball may be in the right, angering and attacking the town preacher was not a step that would serve him.

  “Reverend Fowler,” Jacob said. “I think maybe this is not the place for you. Why don’t you go on back to town and pray from there.”

  Kimball glared at his visitor, but kept his lips pursed, guarding himself against saying anything he might regret.

  “Wait wait wait!” he said, raising his hands above his head. “Wait. If you won’t let me pray with you, at least listen to what I have to say.”

  “Not if it is insulting this good man in his own home,” Jacob said.

  “No,” Reverend Fowler answered. “Not that. Though I despair of you recovering the poor girl unharmed and intact, if you are insistent on trying, you should listen to what I have to say.”

  Jacob exchanged a glance with Kimball.

  “Why should we listen to you?” he said.

  “Believe me.” Reverend Fowler placed a hand over his heart again, all but pleading with Jacob. “I have no wish to harm you men, or to let you walk into a situation unprepared. I have had several conversations with this lecherous character Pickens and I believe my knowledge could help you.”