“Of course.” Mrs. Holder stepped through the open doorway from the kitchen carrying a tray with both hands. “But first these two need to eat. ’Twouldn’t surprise me if you haven’t had a decent meal in days.” She laid bowls of steaming soup in front of Joanna and Isaac, then set a plate of biscuits and a crock of jam between them. It seemed like a lifetime since she’d had biscuits, and it didn’t even matter that these were a bit too hard to be fresh from the oven.
The savory aroma of the stew drew her first. Floating in the broth was more than just the meat they’d eaten for the last several days. Chunks of potatoes and onions and several other vegetables rose with her spoon. It was all she could do not to rest her chin on the edge of the bowl so her weary senses could savor the smell. She was almost too tired to eat.
But the food would revive her, so she inhaled one bite after another.
While she and Isaac ate, men began to file quietly into the room. The first one’s diminutive size and features made his mustache look like it covered at least half his face. Behind him came two others, whose matching builds and the cleft in both their jaws bespoke a strong family resemblance.
All three shook Isaac’s hand and offered respectful head nods to her. “Sorry to hear about your boy, ma’am.” The first man offered this condolence. “Those men have been causin’ trouble in these parts for years now. We’ll do our best to see the matter settled for you.”
Before Joanna could get out a thank-you or ask any follow-up questions, Mrs. Holder bustled into the room. “I’ve got coffee for you all. Sit and be comfortable until the others arrive.” She placed five cups around the table and began pouring dark brew from a carafe. “Mrs. Watson and Mr. Bowen, this is Jeremy Knight”—she motioned toward the smaller man—“and the Canton brothers, Adam and Wesley.”
The clomp of boots sounded from the front room, and three more men entered. Mrs. Holder’s home must be used as a general meeting space often for them not to feel the need to knock. As they entered the dining room, Joanna’s eyes quickly scanned the taller man in the front and the middling fellow just behind him. Mr. Tillis from the livery brought up the rear, and the familiar face eased the angst in her chest a tiny bit. She’d met him less than an hour ago, but he’d worked quickly to gather this group to help.
“This looks to be everyone.” Mr. Tillis took the open chair opposite Isaac as the others filled the remaining seats. “Samson’s down with ague, and Thomas Ruffle’s best breeding mare is sick. He said he’ll help as soon as the animal pulls through.” Then he turned his focus to Isaac. “I think most everyone knows why we’re here, but we’d appreciate all the details you can share.”
Isaac’s deep voice filled the room as he told how they’d discovered the kidnapping and journeyed through the mountains, following the gang’s trail. “The farther we traveled, the more certain I became that these are men I knew several years back. At least, I knew two of them. I’m familiar with their hideout, a little cabin tucked around the backside of the largest of the three peaks up there.” He pointed northward. “The structure is protected on three sides by the mountain and on the fourth by a rock wall, so I think the only way to get the boy and Miss Hannon out safely is to surprise the men and take them out one by one.”
Silence took over the room as the men sent furrowed-brow glances amongst themselves.
Mr. Knight, the smallish man with the large mustache, was the first to speak. “I’ve been up that mountain a good bit, and I’ve never seen a cabin there.”
Isaac nodded. “That’s why it’s been such a good hiding hole. The opening through the rock to reach the cabin is so narrow, you think it’s just part of the mountainside. Last I saw it, there were a few trees that helped disguise the entrance, too. But it’s there. Unless they’ve torn the place down since I last saw it a decade ago, the cabin is still there. In front is an open area that could prove dangerous. We’ll have to figure out a plan to draw the men out so we don’t have to ride into that open area where they can pick us off.”
Mr. Knight spoke again. “You’re sure the men have taken their captives to this cabin?”
Isaac nodded. “As sure as I can be without going there. The last tracks we saw before we turned off toward town were headed exactly for the trail up that mountain.”
Mr. Knight glanced at Mr. Tillis, and Joanna couldn’t quite read the look that passed between them.
Then the livery owner turned to Isaac again. “I’m just curious how you’re so familiar with this cabin and those men. I think you said you knew two of them?” He posed the question respectfully, but it was hard to miss the undercurrent of accusation in his tone.
She could feel Isaac’s tension, even without looking at him. He’d said he never told anyone about his past indiscretions, except for his father. And now her.
How would he answer these men? A part of her wanted to speak up and make an excuse for him. To protect him from the anger the truth would raise.
He didn’t have to tell all. They could come up with some whitewashed version that would mollify these men’s suspicions and keep Isaac from facing the shame of his past.
A past she knew in her deepest heart he regretted. Hated. Had turned from completely.
“I know two of the men because I used to be part of their gang.” Isaac’s voice sliced through her thoughts, filling her with a dread that tightened all her nerves. “I was the one who first suggested to Nate and Aaron Long that we take up robbery to earn an easy living. After a year stealing gold from miners, my conscience finally caught up with me and I left the group. I thought the other two would turn to an honest living, as well, but they met Rex Stanley and Bill Carlton, who convinced them to keep going. Through the years, I’ve heard their crimes have worsened considerably. But they’ve never come near enough to Settler’s Fort for me to do anything about it. The times I’ve tried to get lawmen to go after them haven’t panned out.”
She couldn’t help but stare at him, the sting of tears pricking her eyes. He was telling all? This sacrifice was more than she would have required from him.
Isaac’s voice had maintained an even tone so far, but it dipped with his last words. “Starting that group is my biggest regret.” He swallowed hard. “But that’s only one of the reasons why I’m determined to free Samuel and Miss Hannon. We need to take down those men. They’ve done enough damage. It’s time to end it, once and for all.”
Now the tears welled in her eyes as images of the possible damage flitted through her mind. She locked her jaw and turned to survey the men around them.
Mr. Tillis was the first to speak. “Well, I suppose you do know where they’ve been hiding, then. And if you’re sure you’re on our side, your knowledge of the men will likely come in handy.”
A weight slipped from Joanna’s chest, and she could finally draw breath again.
Isaac nodded. “I’m definitely on the side of right.” His gaze slid to her. “I’ll do anything and everything to get Samuel back for his mother, and to help Miss Hannon. Maybe if I’d taken this journey sooner, none of this would have happened.”
The anguish in his eyes speared through her, and if all these men hadn’t been around, she would have rested her hand on his. Her son’s kidnapping wasn’t his fault, no matter how much part of her wanted someone to blame.
But Isaac wasn’t responsible for the heinous actions of these men. She could see that now, with the haze of shock and anger no longer clouding her vision.
The men around the table had already shifted the conversation to forming a plan, so she reined in her focus to their words.
“The first half hour or so of the trail isn’t bad, but I think we’ll need light for the rest. If they have a lookout stationed, carrying a lantern will give us away. If we leave at first light, how far up the mountain is this cabin?” One of the Canton brothers—she couldn’t remember which was Adam and which was Wesley—looked to Isaac for a response.
“At least two hours from the edge of the trees that border the
mountain. There’s a narrow pass that lets you wind around to the back side of the mountain. We were always careful to take a different route each time so we didn’t create an obvious trail. I imagine they’re still doing that.”
“But you can get us close to the cabin without them hearing?” The other Canton brother leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and brow lowered in a thoughtful expression.
Isaac nodded again. “We’ll need to leave the horses farther back. Might be best for me to scout ahead to see their positions before everyone comes.”
Mr. Tillis leaned forward. “What about your broken leg? That’s gonna make it awfully hard to move closer on foot, especially by yourself, if you go ahead to check things out.”
Isaac’s jaw tightened. “Those walking sticks Mrs. Holder lent me help a lot. I’ll do what I have to do.”
A mental picture of Isaac crawling over the rough mountain ground where they’d camped slipped through Joanna’s thoughts. She wouldn’t put it past him to use that means of travel again if he had to.
And she could only love him for that willingness.
She leaned forward. “I’ll scout ahead with Mr. Bowen in case he needs an extra set of legs.”
All heads turned to her. Some brows dipped in consternation, while others rose in surprise. All except Mr. Tillis, whom she’d already declared her intentions to when they first met. A glimmer of concern shadowed his eyes, but he said, “Might be best if you wait down the mountain with the rest of the men until we know the situation, Mrs. Watson. I’ll be Mr. Bowen’s extra limbs if’n he needs them.”
She craved a glimpse of her son. A chance to see the despicable men who’d stolen him. To know for herself what condition he was in. But perhaps Mr. Tillis would be more help to Isaac. She couldn’t let her own yearnings get in the way of accomplishing their goal.
With a deep inhale for strength, she nodded to Mr. Tillis. “All right.” While she waited with the men on the mountainside, she’d be doing her part in prayer, lifting up their mission to God every step of the way.
This day would change the rest of his life, although which way it would go, Isaac had no idea.
He tucked both borrowed revolvers in his waistband. He’d fastened a strap to carry his rifle over his shoulder so he could have both hands free to use the walking sticks, but that didn’t stop him from hating the restrictions of his injured leg and the bulky splint. Joanna had asked Mrs. Holder to inspect the break, but he’d waved both women away. They could fuss over him all they wanted after their mission was complete and Samuel was back in his mother’s arms.
Now was the worst time he could have ever chosen for this weakness.
But he couldn’t change it, and the clop of hooves outside meant Tillis had come to help him aboard his borrowed horse. As much as he hated having to rely on others almost every step of the way, the willingness of the men in this town to help take down the kidnappers was a gift from God.
Thank you, Lord.
He positioned the walking sticks under his arms and limped out of the bedchamber. In the main room, Joanna stood by the doorway, a lantern in her hand. As she turned to him, the flickering light illuminated the tight lines of strain across her face.
She watched him approach, maybe waiting to help him down the stoop outside. Or maybe she just needed reassurance that they wouldn’t stop until her son and Miss Hannon were returned. That God would guide their efforts today.
He stopped in front of her and reached for her hand. She hesitated. But when she tucked her warm fingers in his palm, he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand as he held her gaze. “Can we pray?”
She exhaled, and some of her strain seemed to slip out as she nodded.
Bowing his head, he raised his heart to the Father, letting that guide his requests for safety, petitions for peace, prayers for strength. As he said “amen,” a reverent spirit filled the space around them. An intensity held them in place, in that position of prayer.
At last, the sound of a boot on the stoop outside proclaimed it was time to get moving. He raised his head and gave Joanna’s hand a final squeeze. Maybe it was his imagination or the dim sunlight, but her face didn’t look as careworn as it had minutes before.
With Tillis’s help, they were soon mounted and riding down the street toward a group of other mounted shadows gathered in front of the livery. The men were mostly silent as they rode out of town, and Joanna stayed beside him. She probably still didn’t trust him, and surely didn’t like him, but at least she knew all his flaws. If she chose his company now, she did so with her eyes wide open.
Light crept over the eastern mountains as they rode, the faint gray of predawn shifting into a fiery red as the sun rose higher in the sky. They’d reached the base of the three peaks that stood together, and Isaac took the lead, aiming for the joint between the center mountain and the one on the right. The rock and a few scrawny trees made the area look like a wall of continuous stone, but he rode toward the break he’d passed through many times.
When the gap opened up, seeing the unique bit of landscape was like returning to another lifetime. This view had once been so familiar, yet he’d thought never to lay eyes on it again.
They rode through the opening single file, and Tillis’s horse balked at the narrow entrance. But the man kept steady pressure on the young gelding and spoke in gentle tones, and it wasn’t long before the animal moved forward.
As soon as all were through, he halted his borrowed mare and turned to the group. “We’ll be on the back side of the mountain soon, just below the cabin, so keep as quiet as you can. Try to stay in soft ground, away from loose rocks. Partway up, I’ll signal a halt and we’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”
Most of the men nodded, and Knight said, “Lead on.”
As Isaac turned his mount forward and guided her around the slope, he couldn’t help feeling he was leading the group into the valley of the shadow of death.
TWENTY-THREE
The walking sticks dug in hard under Isaac’s arms, rubbing blisters he had to force himself to ignore. Keeping quiet with these poles over the loose stones of the mountainside required more focus than if he’d been walking on two feet.
But having Tillis by his side brought a steady reassurance he hadn’t expected.
When they rounded the boulder to see the patch of trees that guarded the rock wall and the cabin’s hiding place, he halted. Tillis stopped beside him, and Isaac worked to not show how hard it was to catch his breath.
He motioned toward a cluster of lodgepole pines and kept his voice to a whisper. “The trees and bushes cover a crevice barely wide enough for a horse to enter. If we were to pass through that crevice, we’d be in clear view of the cabin with about thirty strides of open land in between. I suspect they’ll have someone watching that front. It’s the only way in since there’s vertical mountain slope or a solid rock wall on every other side.”
Tillis nodded. “So one of us goes through the trees and peeks around the edge of the crevice? Probably best for the other of us to be stationed behind a bush there, ya reckon?”
Isaac took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll look first, then we can change places so you can see the lay of the land.”
They started forward, one cautious step at a time. Any man who lived by his gun would be well trained to pick up on the slightest sounds.
The little cluster of trees and shrubs he remembered had grown taller and wider, with the old pines stretching up to the sky and new growth feathering around the edges. The ground in this section had less of a slope than what they’d been climbing, which made it easier for Isaac to limp forward from one tree to the next.
Tillis stayed behind him like a shadow.
At the edge of the copse, Isaac motioned for him to stay put, then strained to hear any sound. Wind ruffled his hair, an almost constant sensation up on this mountainside. A hawk soared in the distance, searching for prey, no doubt.
No other noise or movement made itself known.
What if he was wrong about the gang coming here? He’d seen a few horse tracks coming up the mountain, but maybe those were from Indian mounts. What if the men they sought had changed hideouts? It had been ten years, after all. As well hidden as this cabin was, maybe they thought it would be foolish to keep the same retreat for so long.
These good men from River Crossing probably wouldn’t take kindly to being led on a foolish manhunt.
Shifting his gaze from his surroundings to watch the position of each of his steps, he eased forward through the trees one silent step at a time until he’d crossed the short distance to the mountain wall. The crevice was exactly where he remembered it: at a sideways angle so you had to turn into the space between the stones before you could see the opening on the other side.
He peered in first, listening intently. Was that the murmur of a male voice? He couldn’t tell for sure. Only a sliver of green grass was visible from the angle he stood. He’d have to step fully into the crevice to see anything more.
One of his walking sticks clicked against the rock underneath him, and he cringed, stilling. If any of the men were standing guard, they may have heard the noise.
No sounds came from the other side of the rock wall, so he took another step forward, careful to place each step of the walking stick quietly. He was at the edge now. Ready to peer around the corner.
With achingly slow movements, he leaned against the rock, just forward enough to see around the edge. The corner of the cabin came into view, then the door in the center. All seemed quiet. They’d cut several slits in the wood to allow whoever stood watch to see outside, so he couldn’t know if anyone was watching. Not yet.
With the full cabin in view, he stayed motionless, eyeing the tiny openings and watching for movement. He may not be able to see anything from this distance, but maybe there would be a glimmer of light. The flash of something white. Anything to prove people were in there.
Then he’d need to draw them out.
Love's Mountain Quest Page 16
