“What kind of supplies?”
“Oh, just general things, food mostly, a couple of blankets, coffee, things like that.”
Allyson frowned. “Why?”
Holliday grinned again. “Because I knew you were up here alone and as far as anyone knew, you haven’t been back to town since you got here. You’re a woman alone, for heaven’s sake. I was worried you’d had a bad time of it. Maybe you were hurt, or didn’t know your way back down—anything could happen. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Miss Mills. I don’t expect any money for the supplies. I’m just trying to offer a kind gesture.”
More thunder rolled, and Allyson considered letting the man inside, but then she figured it had been his choice to come up here. She hadn’t asked him, nor had she requested the supplies.
“Men like you don’t just make kind gestures to strangers,” she answered. “You aren’t worried about me, Mr. Holliday. You’re just trying to bribe me.”
Holliday’s smile faded. He studied what he could see of her through the open window. She was a wisp of a woman, so insignificant that the only thing that stood out through the filmy upper glass was her bright red hair. She was more stubborn and cautious than he had expected, and he didn’t cotton to having anyone hold a gun on him.
“Think what you want, Miss Mills. Suffice it to say I’ve come here with supplies that I intend to leave, and to make you an offer for your claim. If you have one ounce of common sense in that pretty head of yours, you’ll sell this worthless piece of ground and get yourself back to civilization, marry some man, and settle down and have babies like women are supposed to do.”
Allyson bristled. “I hate to tell you, Mr. Holliday, but I’m not like other women.” The rain began to lighten up a little as the swift-moving storm made its way to more distant places.
Holliday folded his arms in front of him. “I never would have guessed.”
Allyson moved a little closer to the window but kept the rifle hoisted. “Why would you want to buy my claim if it’s as worthless as you say it is?”
The man’s dark eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say it was worthless, Miss Mills. The point is, you will never be able to glean enough gold or silver to afford to mine it properly. I have the money and equipment to do it right. My hunch is it will never produce all that much, probably just enough to make a small profit. As long as I own so much of this mountain already, I’d like to buy up the rest, that’s all. I guarantee that whatever I pay you will be a lot more than you will ever dig out of here on your own.”
Allyson put on an air of arrogance. “Well, I think it’s a little strange that the man I sent up here to prospect was mysteriously murdered. Now here you come wanting to buy my claim. Will I end up murdered, too, if I don’t sell?”
The rain suddenly subsided to a light drizzle, and thunder rumbled farther in the distance again. “Miss Mills, do you really think a man in my position, with all my money, would stoop to jumping worthless claims for a few extra bucks?”
Allyson gave him a sneering smile. “Maybe. I’m no fool, Mr. Holliday. There’s a reason you want this claim, and I intend to mine it myself for a while longer and see if maybe I can discover what the reason is. If I work hard enough, and I guarantee I am not afraid of work, I might be able to save up enough gold to afford to bring in somebody to help me dig into the side of the mountain and find out where the gold in that creek is coming from. At the least, I have to give it a try. I haven’t been here long enough to know for sure what’s here.”
Holliday lowered his arms, and the big man with him loomed into the sight of the window. “Damn it, woman, you can’t keep digging up here all alone,” Holliday insisted.
Suddenly the wooden door to the shack burst open as the log she used as a bolt splintered. Allyson screamed and jumped back, as the big man loomed in the doorway. “Get out!” she warned, raising the rifle to a firing position. “Get out or I’ll kill you!”
Trapp just grinned. “A lot of things can happen to a woman alone,” he threatened. “A lot of men know you’re up here, and there ain’t many women pretty as you down in Cripple Creek. You’ll have to barricade yourself better than this, lady, if you want to keep them out.” He chuckled, his fat face creasing around his ugly blue eyes. “’Course, then, there’s bears, bobcats, wolves, rats…let’s see. Oh, and dead cold winters when you can’t hardly keep a hot enough fire to keep yourself from turnin’ blue. You’ll need lots of firewood. You gonna chop it yourself?” He rubbed at his grizzly beard. “Accidents can happen. You could get hurt or get sick, and there won’t be nobody here to help you. A lot of men have died up here all alone, missy, and they were a lot stronger and knew more about what they were doin’ than you do. You’d best give some thought to Mr. Holiday’s offer.”
Allyson struggled not to shake visibly. It angered her to be threatened this way, and without another thought, she lowered the rifle and fired it into the floor right in front of the big man’s feet.
“Goddamn, sonofabitch!!” Wayne yelled in surprise, jumping back.
Allyson cocked the rifle and fired again. “Are you a good dancer, mister?” Again, she fired a shot into the floor. Wayne reached for his own pistol, but Allyson raised the repeater, quickly cocking it to slip yet another shell into the chamber. “Don’t do it! I may not be the best shot, but at this range a two-year-old couldn’t miss!”
“Get the hell out of there, Wayne,” Holliday ordered. “That was uncalled for.”
The big man backed away, glaring at Allyson, his thoughts easy to read. Allyson kept the rifle raised, and Holliday himself stepped into the doorway, surveying the damage. He met Allyson’s gaze. “Wayne will fix this door for you before we leave. I’m sorry for his rudeness. He gets a little carried away at times.”
“Is that so?” Allyson’s blue eyes blazed like fire. “You came up here posing as quite the gentleman, Mr. Holliday. I can see now you are certainly far from that. No gentleman travels in the company of a fat bully like that one out there! Just get off my claim, and take your supplies with you. I’ll not be bribed or threatened! And I won’t be fooled into thinking this claim is worthless. You’ve just shown me it must have a value far higher than I imagined! How you can know that, I’m not sure, but you do, and you want it for yourself. I’ve gone up against men like you before. You’re all alike!” She stepped a little closer, and she could see that Holliday was a little worried she just might pull the trigger. “This is my claim, mister, and whatever it takes to mine it right, I’ll do it myself! I’m not selling out cheap and watching someone else make a fortune. I want my own fortune, and I’ll earn it myself, not by wearing some rich man’s wedding ring! Now get moving, and don’t come back, or the next time I’m in Cripple Creek I’ll tell the whole town how Roy Holliday came up here and tried to threaten a helpless woman and tried to steal her claim. I don’t think you want the men at Cripple Creek to hear a story like that, do you?”
Holliday glowered at her, and Wayne Trapp stood outside on the porch looking ready to kill. “Have it your way, you little bitch,” Holliday told her. “You won’t survive the winter up here, and when they find you dead of cold or starvation next spring, I’ll take over your claim without having to dish out a penny! You’re going to lead a very hard, lonely life up here, lady, one that will quickly age you well beyond your years; and all for a few hundred dollars in bits of gold and silver! I was ready to offer you three thousand dollars, but to hell with it! It will be worth whatever small profit I might have made just to come up here next spring and find your thawing body rotting away up here in this flimsy cabin! You’re thinking and behaving like a child, Miss Mills, but then you are just a child, a very stupid child with big dreams that will never come true!”
The man turned and left, and Allyson walked closer to the broken door, watching both men mount their horses, Holliday cursing about a wet saddle. He whirled the beautiful black gelding in a circle, then faced Ally. “Stay alert, Miss Mills. These mountains can be very dangerous!�
�� He turned his horse and left, and the big man called Wayne glared at her a moment longer.
“Real dangerous,” he added with a sudden grin. He rode off behind Holliday, leading the pack horse carrying the precious supplies Allyson could have had for the asking.
Allyson breathed deeply to keep from wilting into a puddle of tears. Would they come back, or perhaps send other men? Was she a fool? Three thousand dollars! Just think of the things she could do with that much money. It was a tempting offer indeed, but to take it would be giving in to Roy Holliday’s brutal threats. Oh, how she hated giving up on anything, or giving in to men like Holliday! She could never enjoy that three thousand dollars knowing she’d given up her pride and courage to get it.
She walked off the porch and pointed her rifle into the air, firing it twice more to startle the men’s horses. She heard one of them curse and a horse whinny. “Get out and stay out!” she screamed. She stood there until they disappeared, and for several minutes after that. The storm had moved on, leaving in its wake a sudden, strange silence. Water dripped from pine trees, and the pungent smell filled the air, heavy and warm. There was not even a breeze, which only accented the stark loneliness.
Allyson walked back onto the porch and stared at the broken door, wondering how she was going to fix it before night fell.
You’re going to lead a very hard, lonely life up here, lady…these mountains can be dangerous…Trouble was, he was right, and she hated it when someone was right, especially someone like Roy Holliday. She wondered how Ethan would have handled this. It sure would be nice to have him here right now. Surviving on her own was getting harder every day, and for one brief moment she considered running out and calling for Holliday to come back, telling him she’d sell the claim and asking him to take her back to Cripple Creek and civilization; but her fierce pride prevailed. Besides, she didn’t trust the big man with him.
She walked inside and picked up a box of shells, then turned away and headed back down to the creek, keeping her rifle ready. She decided that for tonight she would just nail the door shut and find a way to bolt the shutters. If she had to, she’d just open the shutters and window and use that to go in and out for the time being. Maybe old Stan would show up soon, and he could fix the door for her.
She reached the sluice and set her rifle against a tree, putting the box of shells on the ground beside it. She wished Holliday had not mentioned the supplies. She sure could have used them, especially the coffee. She hadn’t had a good cup of coffee in a week now. Through tear-filled eyes she picked up her shovel, dug into the creek bed, and dumped the soil into the sluice. She began rocking the sluice, washing the soil back and forth so that any gold would fall into the riffles at the bottom, but for the moment she couldn’t really see what she was doing.
She stopped and reached into the cold water, splashing some onto her face. This was no time for tears—there was work to be done. Besides, she had to be alert in case Roy Holliday or his fat bully returned.
22
Allyson breathed easier when Cripple Creek came into sight. Up at her claim she could see the town below through certain openings in the trees, but actually reaching it took a lot longer than it would appear to, looking at it from above. She had started out at dawn and now it was late afternoon.
She figured she would probably never know what had happened to old Stan. For all she knew he had gone on to some other town. Her supplies were dangerously low, and she’d had no choice but to make this trip with her two mules and empty gunny sacks to haul food and other necessities back up the mountain. Besides, it was time to find out how much gold she had and turn it in for cash, which she would leave in a bank in Cripple Creek. She didn’t feel comfortable being up on that mountain alone with several pounds of gold dust and particles, let alone a few dollars worth of garnets.
It was good to see people. Right now she didn’t care that her greeters would be mostly prostitutes and rude, rugged miners. Just the sight of other human life would be a comfort, as long as she didn’t run into Roy Holliday or the big, fat man called Wayne. It had been nearly two weeks since they had invaded her little domain on the mountain, and she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since. She reasoned that life could be a lot easier if she just sold her claim while she was here and never bothered going back, but Roy Holliday was just like Henry Bartel and Nolan Ives. She would not let him defeat her. Besides, she was sure there must be a valuable vein somewhere on her claim, and Holliday knew it. That had to be why he was so anxious to get it from her. The thought of the millions that could be hers was all she needed to keep going.
She reached the outskirts of town and looked up at the mountain down which she had just come, feeling a certain pride of accomplishment. She had actually found her way, braving the dangers of bears and woman-hungry men who might be lurking in the heavy forest of pine and aspen that had surrounded her most of the way. It had actually been a rather pleasant trip, with summer flowers beginning to bloom everywhere. Everything around her had been a splendor of colors splashed against the bright green of the aspen leaves, the darker green pine, the brown bed of old pine needles on the forest floor, the white trunks and branches of the aspen rising into a brilliant blue sky, and all around a backdrop of purple mountains that still carried white snows on their peaks.
She removed her woolen jacket. It had been cold up at her claim when she left that morning, but even though Cripple Creek was itself in a high elevation, it was warm enough not to need a jacket. She thought how much more pleasant it must be by now down in Denver, pleasant June warmth, the luxury of bricked streets and theaters, restaurants and fancy hotels. She could sell out and go back there and live like a real lady, wearing her pretty dresses again.
She flung her jacket over one of the mules. No. She would not give up yet. She had all summer to look for the vein she was sure existed. Maybe if she didn’t find her bonanza by winter, then she would sell out, but not yet. She continued into town, which bustled with activity. At first she was barely noticed. She had deliberately wrapped her breasts tightly so they would hardly show under her shirt, and her hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head, then covered with a hat. She wanted no attention. When she first left Cripple Creek, men had crowded around her, and it had worried her that so many knew she would be up at her claim alone. Apparently most of these men had enough respect for a proper lady that they had decided to leave her alone, but it was still best to draw as little attention as possible. She well knew most men could not be trusted, and Roy Holliday surely had a lot of men working for him in this town. She did not want any trouble from any of them, especially the big one who had broken the door to her cabin.
She made her way past the Holliday Hotel, looking hardly any different from any other prospector who might come down out of the mountains. She glanced at a horse that looked familiar, a buckskin-colored gelding with four black feet. Ethan had a horse like that, but then it certainly was not the only horse in the world with that coloring. Seeing it brought a little wave of remembrance, a little jolt of hope it could belong to Ethan. It made her wonder what she was going to do with her personal life from here on. Whether she hit it rich at her claim, or sold it and went back to Denver, the fact remained she was still alone, and she could not imagine feeling as comfortable with or being loved by any man who could compare to Ethan Temple in looks and skill and bravery. She had thrown away the best man she would ever know, and she did not doubt that he all but hated her. Maybe she was doomed to be an old maid all her life. If that was the case, she would rather be a rich one than a poor one; but sometimes she thought how she might not mind being poor if Ethan was back in her life.
She moved on past the hotel toward the assayer’s office.
“There’s another big gold shipment going to Colorado Springs next week,” Roy Holliday told Ethan. “Ever since I fired Trevor Gale, he’s been stirring up trouble, and because of the friends he has among the miners, he knows when every shipment goes out. The man knows explosives,
and I wouldn’t put it past him to try to blow up my freight wagons and turn my gold into dust and scatter it from here to Denver.”
Ethan stood leaning against a wall. He lit a cheroot. “You want me to oversee the next shipment like I did the last?”
Wayne Trapp sat at the side of the room glaring at Ethan, still hating the idea that Holliday had so much confidence in and admiration for the Indian. Ever since Ethan had come into the picture, Wayne suspected he had somehow lost some of his importance in Roy Holliday’s eyes. If he wasn’t careful, or if he didn’t find some way to get rid of Ethan Temple, someday he was going to be out of a job altogether.
Holliday leaned back in his leather chair. “No,” he answered Ethan. “Just leading the gold train won’t ensure it won’t be blown up. I’d like you to start scouting the whole trail a couple of days before the shipment. That’s what you’re best at, right?”
“Scouting?” Ethan shrugged, keeping the cheroot between his teeth. “It’s all I’ve ever done.”
Holliday put his hands behind his head and his feet up on his desk. “Then I want to utilize your best talent. Indians have a way of smelling things out, hearing better, seeing better. Hell, you’ve done the same thing for the army for years, so why not for me? If Trevor is going to try anything, he’ll most likely plant explosives somewhere along the way beforehand, setting it up so he can wait till the wagons come along, then push a plunger and blow everything sky high. I want you to start early and ride that whole trail down to Colorado Springs, keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious, any sign of any digging being done in the road, that kind of thing. Head back up then, looking for the same thing, maybe up along the cliffs above. Trevor could set some explosives there and set off a deadly avalanche of boulders. He might not try anything at all, but I want to be ready. Then when the wagon train sets out, I want you to ride ahead of it, again keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious.”
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