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Blood on the Mountain Page 5
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“Mr. Payne, the water is getting cold,” Joel called from the end of the porch where he had been getting cleaned up. “You want to come use what’s left?”
“Oh, heavens,” Mrs. Kimball said bustling over. “Let me warm some more up for you.”
“I’d like some of that,” Boyd said, crossing to the rail. “If it’s not too much trouble, ma’am.”
As this small interruption occurred, Jacob took the opportunity to observe Reverend Fowler closely. When he thought no one was looking, when his own attention was trained on the boy and the soapy water, the reverend’s expression softened. His shoulders had dropped and his eyes took on a hopeful gleam. In that small moment of unguardedness, Jacob saw what he believed to be the true motivation behind the man’s visit.
Reverend Fowler may be pompous and condescending, but he was still a man of God who wanted to help, misguided though he may be.
“Alright, Reverend. Why don’t you and me take as seat over here on the steps and you can fill me in on what you learned from Pickens.”
He gestured to the steps at their feet. Reverend Fowler blanched briefly, then bent down to haphazardly dust off the step with his hat and sit down, gingerly. Jacob stood down on the dirt at his feet, put one foot up on the step and leaned forward on to his knee. Zeke leaned on the rail, casually eavesdropping but offering no input. Kimball sat on the other side of the reverend, gun still in hand, but staying quiet.
“When did you first meet Pickens?” Jacob began.
Reverend Fowler glanced askance at the muzzle of the gun pointed in his direction. While Jacob himself would never point a gun idly at a neighbor, he noticed that Kimball’s hands were nowhere near the trigger and suspected the older man was simply trying to scare the other.
“Well, he, um.” Reverend Fowler shot one last glance at Kimball before clearing his throat and directing his answer to Jacob. “Pickens must’ve stopped by the rectory not long after he showed up in Elk Springs. That day, I think? You may not believe it, but he would not stop talking about that rumored Herron Gold Mine.”
“You don’t say?” Zeke answered, rolling his eyes a little.
“It’s true,” the reverend continued. “He was asking everyone in town if they had heard about the mine and I believe at least one man pointed the way to this very farm.”
“Yes, Reverend,” Jacob said with a sigh. “We know all that. Other men in town have already given us those details.”
“Did these other men tell you what was in the telegram he sent to Santa Fe?”
Jacob and Kimball exchanged a glance.
“Might as well get to it, Reverend. What do you know?”
He looked at the faces watching him expectantly and blanched, as though he only just realized the situation he had put himself in.
“Well, as I’m sure is no surprise,” Reverend Fowler said pompously, “the man is illiterate. He demanded I write down what he wanted the telegram to say, and I have to admit I succumbed to his threats.”
“It’s fine, Reverend,” Jacob said, growing impatient. “We understand why you did it. But what did it say.”
“Well, it seems this Pickens character must have accomplices of some sort. He asked his recipient to meet him on this very mountain.”
“That means we may be walking into a gang,” Boyd said. “What’ll we do?”
“Well, first,” Jacob said, “we might be able to get to Flora before whoever this accomplice is even arrives. We should get started. That’s plenty to be getting on with. I think it’s time we hit the trail,” Jacob said.
“Wait, um. Mr. Payne.” Joel rushed to his side. “You think maybe we should ask about a horse?”
“A horse?” Mr. Kimball asked after overhearing. “Don’t you have a horse?”
“I do, sir.” Jacob hesitated. He hated admitting any weakness, even if it was just in his choice of horse. “She is a bit skittish, though. She’s borrowed from a friend and I’m not sure—”
“Say no more. I have just the thing.”
Jacob followed his host, once again grateful for kind strangers.
Chapter Eight
Joel led the group of armed men silently down the trail, taking them deeper into the mountains. The trail was narrow, so small that Jacob was surprised Joel didn’t have more trouble following it. He must have spent innumerable hours of his youth exploring this side of the mountain with Flora. They had been trekking through the woods for nearly an hour now, with no sign of slowing.
Jacob brought up the rear of their posse, trailing behind Zeke by about twenty feet as he grew accustomed to his new mount. Kimball had been generous enough to loan the bounty hunter one of his stallions. Franny was boarded, safely and comfortably in the Kimballs’ barn, waiting for Jacob to return. When he had rode off that morning she had seemed perfectly happy to be left alone, safe and unmolested.
Instead of a fragile, skittish mare, Jacob’s new mount was both mellow and eager to get going. The gorgeous creature’s name was Blaze and, though Jacob had only just met the him, he was completely at peace with trusting the horse. The two seemed to already be experiencing a unique bond. Just the smallest of pressure from Jacob’s knees or heels and Blaze obeyed immediately. The horse was at home on the trail and under his new rider.
Jacob was still a little on edge, hoping that a tree branch didn’t fall anywhere close by and spook his new ride, but told himself he could handle it. Hopefully the stallion was more used to this forest and its sounds than Franny had been, but even if not, Jacob would put up with any obstacles if it meant he was able to get to Flora soon enough.
Up ahead, Jacob heard Joel let out a long low whistle.
“Mr. Payne?” he called.
Jacob flicked the reins and trotted up along the side of the trail to stand next to Joel. “What did you find?”
Joel had dismounted and was walking slowly a few feet farther on the trail. He didn’t even need to answer before Jacob saw what caused him to stop their trek. Ten feet ahead, the dirt trail narrowed to pass between rocks. A couple sizable boulders and at least a dozen large stones waited in piles on either side of where someone should be walking.
Splattered on the rocks, in at least three different places that Jacob could identify from where he stood, dark dried blood told the grisly tale of the previous passersby. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but it was enough. Whoever spilled this could have a very serious injury and needed their help.
Joel sniffed.
Jacob looked at him sharply, but the young man wasn’t facing him. He may be deliberately hiding his tears, but Jacob could guess.
“Let’s just remember, we have no way of knowing if this blood is Flora’s. It could be anyone’s. It could be an animal’s for all we know. For that matter, we don’t even know if it was left recently. Once it’s dry, all blood looks the same until it rains.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Joel muttered.
“It rained last week,” Boyd offered from behind.
Jacob glared at him. That wasn’t helping calm Joel.
“The smartest thing to do,” Jacob continued, “is to follow along this trail toward the Herron Mine. Same as we were planning on. We’re like to find more clues along the way, if your guess as to where they’re going is right, Joel.”
“I never did catch why we’re going this way,” Zeke said.
“We’re going to where the Herron Mine is supposed to be.”
“Yeah, but … it doesn’t exist, does it? I heard that dozens of men pored over these mountains looking for it and never found a lick of gold.”
“No, you’re right,” Joel said. “It doesn’t exist.” He rummaged in his saddle bag for a canteen, and took a long swig of water before continuing. “I don’t know where the initial story came from, but lots of men and later families came out this way looking for gold. That’s how Elk Springs came to be in the first place. A settlement for the gold mine, if there had even been a mine. It’s named after the fella that claimed there was a mine here in
the first place, sending all those fools out searching in the wilderness. Matthew Herron.”
“So then …” Boyd removed his hat and scratched his head. “Where are we going?”
“Well, like I said, I’ve known the Kimball family since I was about five years old. My father spent a few years looking for the mine and we lived here on the mountain. Flora and me used to play all over their farm, and as we got older we were allowed to venture further and further away.
“We had heard all the stories, of course. Growing up in Elk Springs it was like a myth in the back of your mind at all times. ‘Look for the Herron Mine.’ Everyone knew by then that it didn’t exist, but they had been in the habit for so long it lingered. It was almost like a joke with us.
“So, when Flora and I were ten or eleven, we were allowed to venture past the Kimball property line and we spent a lot of time in this forest and on this trail. We found a cave — it’s only a little bit further up. It’s just a cave. It doesn’t even go that deep into the mountain, but we started pretending it was the Herron Mine. It started out as a joke, but that’s what we called it between the two of us.
“Maybe someone else heard us. I know Mr. Kimball called the cave the same thing, but he knew it was just our play spot. Somehow word that Flora knew where the Herron Mine is must have gotten out into Elk Springs.”
“So that’s why we’re heading down this trail,” Jacob concluded.
“That’s right.” Joel nodded. “And I hope I’m not wrong. If she’s not at this cave, I don’t have any other idea where he could have taken her.”
“Don’t worry, Joel. We’ll find her. I don’t want to assume this is her blood spilled on the mountain, but if nothing else it’s a good indication that people came this way.”
“I don’t understand why she would agree to help him in the first place,” Joel said. “The Flora I used to know was independent and strong.”
“You have to remember, though, that she probably always felt safe with you. If she knows that you’re not going to beat her for expressing an opinion, she will be more likely to be herself. But Pickens probably started with violence. She’s only seventeen. Does she know how to use a gun?”
Joel shook his head.
“There. You see?” Jacob said. “Going along with the outlaw is just protecting herself. There’s not much else she could do if she wanted to stay alive.”
“I guess that’s so.” Joel looked thoughtfully down the trail, farther into the forest where they were headed. “Maybe this blood is a sign she’s been fighting back.”
“Maybe so,” Jacob agreed. “From everything you and your father have said, she seems like a gutsy girl. Let’s not worry too much.”
Joel nodded. “You’re right. Let’s keep going.”
He mounted his horse again, and took the lead walking slowly down the trail, looking right and left for another clue that Flora and Pickens had passed by this spot. The group stayed quiet. Around them, birds twittered to each other. Every so often one of the horses would huff a deep breath or a small woodland animal would disturb the brush just out of their sight.
If it weren’t for the stress of being yet again on the trail of an outlaw, Jacob might actually be enjoying this ride. The forests of the White Mountains were beautiful. The trail curved up and around to the right, the men climbing farther up the mountain. The air was thinner here than Jacob was used to, Just before the trail curved around again to the left, Jacob heard Joel let out a strangled cry as he quickly jumped off his horse and tore up the trail.
“What is it?” Jacob asked in a carrying whisper. Since he wasn’t sure what Joel had spotted, he didn’t know how close the enemy might be. “Joel!”
The young man darted ahead to something just off the side of the trail. He crouched down, hesitated, and then snatched up something off the ground. A small scrap of something colorful that Jacob couldn’t make out at this distance.
When Joel turned back towards the rest of the group, his face displayed pure fury. His cheeks were flushing and even from this distance Jacob could see that he was clenching his jaw. The muscles in the boy’s neck stood out as he stomped back towards Jacob.
He held out his hands in front of him, the slip of color now draped across his palms. It was a narrow lavender ribbon, maybe eighteen inches long. As he drew closer, Jacob noticed that one of the ends was frayed and he wondered where the rest of the ribbon had gone.
“It’s Flora’s,” Joel said as he approached. “It’s Flora’s. I remember when she got this hair ribbon for her birthday. She loved this color. How could she have lost it?”
“Maybe she didn’t lose it,” Jacob suggested. “Maybe she deliberately dropped it.”
In a moment, Joel’s entire expression changed from despair to hope. He clutched the ribbon in his fist and smiled at Jacob. “You’re right. And maybe this end is frayed because she tried dropping some pieces earlier on the trail and we just missed them.”
“Yeah, that would be really smart of her.”
“Flora is a smart girl.”
Jacob smiled. “So, now we know for sure we’re on the right trail.”
“Yes!”
“Let’s not keep her waiting.”
Joel moved quickly, getting on his horse again and taking the lead as they continued on the trail toward the cave that he had called the Herron Mine.
They rode more quickly now that they were sure they were on the correct path. The horses carried them up and up the rocky trail, winding around curves of the mountain and between the trees. The sun climbed in the sky and Jacob wondered if they should stop to eat.
Joel held up a hand, pausing their advance.
Chapter Nine
When Joel paused their advance, Jacob dismounted, tossed the reins to Zeke and crept up on foot to the young man at the head of their posse.
“What is it?” he whispered, scanning the area.
Joel pointed. “The cave is just past there. Look!”
Jacob followed where the young man indicated. He could see where the trail continued, into the dark, dense forest. For a brief moment he didn’t see anything unusual. At a glance, there was no clear reason why Joel had stopped at this spot. The light peeking in through the forest canopy ahead flickered and flashed, making Jacob think he saw movement where there wasn’t any.
He sniffed the air, but couldn’t make out anything out of the ordinary. Earth, forest, animal scents wove around them but other than Joel on his horse next to him, Jacob didn’t smell anything that alluded to Pickens or anyone else being nearby.
But his gut said differently. The bounty hunter kept his gaze trained down the length of the trail where Joel had pointed and crept forward a little farther on foot, darting behind the trunk of a large tree in case whatever Joel had seen was watching back. The longer he looked the more he noticed.
Just through the trees, Jacob noticed the trail about thirty feet ahead curving around an enormous boulder. From this distance he was guessing, but the boulder likely would tower several feet above his own head. It seemed to form a virtual wall of rock presumably continuing past the curve and along the trail farther up the mountain. Small cracks in the boulder revealed the smallest weeds and tiny plants trying to take hold, but the stone seemed nearly impenetrable. It would be the perfect cover and protection for an outlaw.
Just as he was about to turn back to Joel to ask what he had noticed, movement caught his eye. The flash of a purple skirt wafted into view from behind the boulder before winking out of sight again. There was someone there. Jacob had no doubt he had seen a skirt. There was a woman just out of sight. He prayed it was Flora Kimball.
Jacob strained his ears to listen. He almost thought he could identify a faint mumble of conversation, but couldn’t hear anything more above the horses’ heavy breathing and occasional pawing at the ground.
He had to get closer. They could get closer.
He crept back to Joel and whispered quick instructions, before repeating the same with Boyd an
d Zeke. He needed the men to drop anything holding them back so they could be the most nimble on their approach to rescue the girl. The men would find a nearby tree and cover to leave their horses, far off the trail. Then they could all move forward quietly to inspect what was on the other side of that boulder and hiding farther up the mountain.
Once those steps were underway, Jacob was on his own again. He moved through the trees, winding his way downhill. His revolver in hand, the bounty hunter kept a focused watch on his prey while he moved to a better position. He took a wide, arching path so he could observe while staying out of sight, downwind and flank the mysterious camp. As he progressed downhill, winding between the trees, more and more of the scene on the trail became clear. From this angle, it was evident that the boulder had been hiding quite a lot. Jacob spied the remains of a campfire, a pile of saddlebags and two horses tied not far away.
In spite of this evidence of habitation on the trail, Jacob could not actually see any humans. He would have almost thought that he had imagined the purple dress, the site was so quiet. But no. He was sure he had seen it. There must be someone nearby. Where had she gone?
The boulder itself curved into the side of the mountain, creating a rocky wall that the trail wound around. The rock wall disappeared into a narrow crevice that marked the opening of the cave. It was wider than a man, but not by much. The crevice marked just a small break in the wall of rock that continued down the length of the trail, forming a wall and cliff on the mountain face.
Joel, Boyd and Zeke reached him in his hiding spot just downhill from the empty campsite.
“I’m sure I saw movement,” Joel insisted in a whisper.
“I did, too,” Jacob answered. “They must have gone back in the cave.”
“But that was Flora, right? You saw the dress, right? It matched her hair ribbon that I found.”
Jacob nodded, but kept his eyes trained on the split in the rock where the cave hid who knew what.
If he had been on his own, Jacob might have rushed the group or gone in guns blazing and put himself at risk just from not realizing there was a hiding place nearby. With Joel, and the other men, he was not only better informed, but also safer. He was warned about the cave, as well as had the security of three other gunmen to help him cover the area.