The trail that had angled down the back of the ridge pointed in the general direction of the river valley, south of the high mountains where Bonnie and Finn waited for his return. Not sure he hadn’t lost it after coming upon a wide outcropping of rock, he thought of his brother. Jake could track as well as any Indian he’d ever met. I need you here now, he thought when finally he had to give up on looking for tracks on the rocky surface. Going strictly on a guess as to where the outlaw had headed, he was relieved to pick up the tracks again at the bank of a small stream where the man he now knew as Bailey Cruz had paused to let his horse drink. As the afternoon wore on, with the promise of evening to come shortly, Adam spurred the horses on, knowing Cruz’s lead might be too substantial to overcome. Darkness found him at the banks of the Ruby River, where he was forced to end the chase until morning.
After watering the horses, he rode downriver a short distance to find a suitable campsite where he could build a fire that would not be easily seen. A few strips of deer jerky were all he could produce for his supper, since he had not taken the time to pack many supplies with him. He reprimanded himself severely for not bringing his coffeepot, the one utensil that he could never do without. Ignoring the angry growls coming from his empty stomach, he settled down to pass the night. Sleep didn’t come easily, however. There were too many things to sort out in his head. His single demanding objective was to run Bailey Cruz to ground and balance the ledger in that regard. But he could not forget the obligation he had taken on for the safe deliverance of Finn and Bonnie out of this territory and safely to the Gallatin Valley. Torn between the contract he had made with them and the determination to follow Cruz, he found it difficult to decide which was the more important. Unable to make the decision, he put it off until morning.
Morning brought rain. The storm clouds began to form in the wee hours of the morning, pushing their way toward the mountains. A little before daylight the rain began to fall, and by the time he pulled his rain slicker off his saddle and put it on, he was hit with a pelting shower that lasted for over an hour. Concerned for the effect it might have on the trail he must find, he saddled the horses and hurried back upstream to find the hoofprints that had led into the river were now effectively erased by the rain. He was left with the discouraging fact that he knew only that Cruz had entered the river here, and not if he went straight across, or stayed in the water to leave the river upstream or downstream. Recalling his indecision of the night just passed, he said, “Well, I reckon my decision has been made for me.” But to be sure, he rode a mile or so along the east bank, then crossed over and came back on the other side before finally turning the bay gelding back the way he had come. He would see Finn and Bonnie safely out of the mountains. Then he would hunt Bailey Cruz down. He knew his name, a vague description of him, and he knew at least one place where he might be found. He was not looking forward to a return visit to Virginia City, but that seemed to be where the trail led. It was extremely hard not to simply head there now, but he could not say how long it would take to track Cruz down once he got there. Once I take care of Finn and Bonnie, he thought, then it won’t matter how long it takes. It was more than ten miles to the ridge where he had encountered Seeger. He still had more than half a day from there to Black Otter’s camp, but he decided to try to make it before dark.
“Thank you,” Bonnie Wells said politely when Little Flower placed a portion of freshly roasted venison before her. The Indian woman responded with a slight nod, her face devoid of expression. When Little Flower withdrew to seat herself on the opposite side of the fire, Bonnie looked at Finn and commented softly, “I think Mrs. Black Otter wishes we’d get the hell out of her home.” There was no doubt that Little Flower felt threatened with the two white people in her camp. From the first, she had been accommodating, but far less cordial than her husband.
“I don’t doubt it,” Finn replied. “It helped matters very little when those killers followed us here.”
“Black Otter seems friendly enough,” Bonnie said. “She could warm up a little bit. It ain’t like we wanna be here.”
Finn took a loud sip of the coffee Bonnie had made before commenting, “Black Otter counts it as good fortune. He gained horses and guns he didn’t have before. All she gained was a couple of extra mouths to feed.” He slurped his coffee loudly again and smacked his lips in approval. “We’ll be pullin’ outta here as soon as Adam gets back.”
“He’s been gone two days already,” Bonnie fretted. “What if he doesn’t come back? Then what in hell are we gonna do? I’m not planning on spending the winter in an Indian camp,” she said, emphatically.
“He said he’d be back,” Finn replied. “He’s as good as his word. He’ll be back.” His statement was far more confident than his inner feelings. Finn had worked hard all his life with nothing to show for it, until the last few years. Hard work had finally paid off, for now he was a wealthy man. But his wealth was packed right there in a lone Indian’s camp in ten canvas bags, no good to him or anyone else if he failed to transport it to someplace where it had value. Finally able to sneak his fortune out from under the watchful eyes of Sheriff Albert Ainsworth and his gang of outlaws in Bannack, he now found himself in a quandary. He was afraid to lead his mules out of these mountains without some formidable protection. The two gangs that had attacked them had been defeated, but there were still those many outlaws who constantly watched the roads in and out of Virginia City. So the past three nights, with Adam gone, were especially worrisome for him. The thought of starting out for Three Forks or Butte, leading his string of mules, loaded down with a fortune in gold dust, was one that offered nothing short of suicide. He was sure that Bonnie would stick with him. Where else was she to go? She was as spunky and tough as any woman he had ever met, but she was not enough protection against seasoned road agents. I wish to hell Adam would show up, he silently prayed.
“I hope you’re right,” Bonnie said, “because the nights are getting cold up here.” She thought of another point that only served to worry the little Irishman further. “You know, you and I just invited ourselves along on this little journey as extra baggage. He was only going to take Lacey home with him, and that was just because he figured he owed it to his brother. He might decide he doesn’t owe us a damn thing.” It gave them something to think about. She paused, however, before saying more on the subject when she saw Black Otter get up from the fire, pick up his new Spencer carbine, and move quickly to the edge of the clearing. Fearing trouble, she grabbed her carbine and moved up beside him. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Big Hunter,” Black Otter replied. A moment later, Adam hailed the camp. The Indian dropped his weapon to his side and walked out to meet him.
Bonnie remained where she stood, and when Finn walked up to join her, she asked, “Now, how in hell did he know that?”
Finn shrugged. “He’s an Injun.” He didn’t care how the Indian knew; he just released a great sigh of relief.
A few seconds later, Adam appeared at the edge of the stream. Behind him, on a lead line, followed a string of seven saddled horses. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Finn muttered. “You went back for the horses.”
“Figured I might as well,” Adam replied, “since it looked like those three outlaws didn’t have ’em—oughta be two more somewhere around the foot of that mountain.” He turned to Black Otter then. “Can you gimme a hand with ’em? Half of ’em’s yours.”
The Bannock warrior was all smiles as he looked the horses over thoroughly. “You stay,” he said to Adam, “make Black Otter rich man.”
“Did you catch up with ’em?” Finn asked.
“One of ’em,” Adam replied. “One of ’em got away.” He glanced at the coffeepot seated in the coals of the fire. “Any coffee left in that pot?”
“A little,” Bonnie answered. “I’ll get it for you.” She filled the cup she had been using and brought it to Adam. “I’ll bet this is the only reason you came back here,” she chided, knowing the big ma
n’s love for the bitter black brew.
“It’s one of ’em,” he admitted, “that’s a fact.”
Accustomed to Adam’s inclination to save words, Finn pressed him for more details. With an indifferent shrug of his shoulders, Adam told them of his encounter with the two outlaws, resulting in the death of one of them while the other went free. “I’m goin’ after him. I think I know where I can find him. His name’s Bailey Cruz.”
This immediately sparked Bonnie’s interest. “Bailey Cruz,” she echoed. “I know him. I saw him several times in O’Grady’s Saloon.” She shook her head in warning. “You’d best be careful if you’re going after Cruz. I’ve heard he’s put a lot of men in the ground.” Her comment was not enough to dispel the expression of indifference on Adam’s face, causing her to wonder if the man was devoid of feeling, or was it a lack of sense?
Finn’s concern was for a different matter. “You’re still goin’ after this fellow, Cruz?”
The obvious distress in Finn’s question prompted Adam to reassure him. “I’ll see you and Bonnie outta here first. Then I’m goin’ after Cruz.” His statement brought another sigh of relief from Finn, and a smile to Bonnie’s face.
Chapter 13
With Black Otter as their guide, the belabored party of fugitives from Henry Plummer’s army of road agents crossed through the towering mountains that guarded the lone Bannock warrior’s camp. When they finally left the eastern slopes, they found themselves in the broad Madison River Valley, approximately a day and a half below Three Forks. There they said good-bye to Black Otter, after expressing their appreciation for his help.
“Big Hunter good friend,” Black Otter told Adam before turning back toward the mountains.
“Maybe I’ll come back to visit with you sometime,” Adam said while shaking the Indian’s hand.
“Maybe,” Black Otter said. “Have to look hard. Move camp now.” He had already told Little Flower to prepare to take the tipi down in preparation for the move to a new location. His camp had been discovered by white men, so he could not risk staying there another season. He had gained much from his friend, but as Little Flower had repeatedly warned him, “Big Hunter brings death with him.” He said farewell to Finn and smiled at Bonnie. “Woman shoot gun like man.” Then the Bannock warrior turned his newly acquired horse back toward the mountains. Sitting a single-rigged saddle, a rifle in the scabbard, and his bow slung on his back, he disappeared into the trees.
“We can ride down the river to Three Forks,” Adam said, giving them an option, in case they had decided what they were going to do. “Or we can cross over and head toward my pa’s place. It’s a little farther, about three days, I expect, but you might feel a whole lot safer there.”
There was no hesitation on the part of either Finn or Bonnie. “I’d prefer to go to your pa’s place,” Finn said.
“I’ll go with the gold,” Bonnie said, and winked at Finn.
They had approximately fifteen miles to reach the Madison, with enough daylight left to make it before dark, so Adam set out to the east across the valley. He figured they were far enough north of Virginia City to avoid trouble from Plummer’s road agents, thanks to Black Otter leading them through the mountains. But he knew it would be difficult for Finn and Bonnie to find the Triple-B without him. It was difficult to get Bailey Cruz out of his mind, however. It was something he felt he had to do, and the sooner he had settled the issue, the sooner he would feel that he had done all he could to punish those who had murdered Jake and Lacey. His impatience did not go unnoticed by his two companions.
“You know, it ain’t your fault Lacey got killed,” Bonnie told him as they sat by their campfire on the east bank of the Madison. “She was just unlucky enough to be walking by the fire when those murderers sneaked up on us.”
“I reckon I know that,” Adam replied stoically, although not convincingly to Bonnie.
“Well, it’s time you stopped blaming yourself,” she said.
“I ain’t blamin’ nobody,” he insisted, “but things won’t be right as long as Bailey Cruz goes free.” He knew that he couldn’t explain to her the feeling of failure that hovered over him. His father had sent him to Bannack to bring his brother home. He had not only failed to do that, but he had also failed to bring the girl Lacey back, as Jake had intended to do. He was dreading the moment when he had to admit his failures to his father. He didn’t know if killing Cruz would alleviate his feeling of defeat, but it would rid the world of an evil presence. That much he was certain of, so there was no use for Bonnie, or anyone else, to try to talk him out of going back to finish that piece of business.
All was peaceful during the night, but Adam awoke early, unable to sleep any longer, so he got up to revive the fire. As he moved quietly in the dark pocket of firs that surrounded their camp, he paused for a moment, unsure. At first glance, he thought someone was missing, for he saw only one blanket other than his own. Maybe, he thought, his eyes were playing tricks on him in the dark. With his hand on his revolver, he moved closer to the remaining blanket, thinking it belonged to Finn. He stopped short when he discovered two bodies wrapped inside two blankets and Bonnie snuggled up to Finn, her head nestled against his neck. Astonished, he could not suppress a grin. Damned if she didn’t do it. I never thought it was possible. Afraid he was going to laugh out loud, he stepped back and returned to the fire. Still grinning, he grabbed the coffeepot and went down the bank to fill it.
The coffee was boiling nosily when Adam heard a rustle of blankets. He glanced over in their direction. Although the light was still poor under the canopy of fir limbs, he could make out the one form suddenly separating into two. A few minutes later, Finn walked up closer to the fire. “Mornin’,” he said.
“Mornin’,” Adam returned. “Kinda cold last night. You sleep okay?”
“Well, I can’t complain. It was a wee bit chilly, though.”
“Maybe you oughta sleep a little closer to the fire,” Adam said, enjoying the game. “I wonder how Bonnie slept.”
“All right, I suppose. The woman can sleep with no trouble a’tall.” Anxious to change the subject, he blurted, “Is that coffee done yet? I’ve a strong need for it this mornin’.”
“I reckon,” Adam said. “Yeah, it’s about ready.” Bonnie was up a few minutes after that, but she walked up the river for a ways before joining the men at the fire. “I could eat a horse,” she exclaimed when she knelt by the fire.
“Will some deer meat do?” Adam asked. “We’re gonna need the horses.” She cocked a wary eye at him, then favored him with a wicked grin. He knew. She could tell by his unusually cheerful demeanor. She shrugged her shoulders and helped herself to coffee. She kept telling us she was going with the gold, Adam thought.
Mose Stebbins leaned his pitchfork against the barn door and walked out to see if he recognized the riders approaching from the south. His eyes weren’t as strong as they used to be, but the man sitting tall in the saddle looked like Adam. By God, he thought, it’s time you were getting home. He started to hurry to the house to get Nathan, but decided to wait a moment longer, squinting in an effort to see Jake. “What the hell?” he blurted to himself. “Who the hell is that with him?” Mose could clearly see them now. There was a man with Adam, but it sure as hell wasn’t Jake—and a woman—and they were leading horses and a string of mules! “Uh-oh,” he whistled. This could only mean bad news. Shaken to action then, he ran toward the house, yelling, “Nathan, Nathan! Adam’s come home!”
In a few short seconds, Nathan Blaine came out on the porch, at once searching in the direction Mose was frantically pointing. Like Mose, he was stopped for a moment when he saw the man and woman with his son, at once overtaken by a feeling of dread to hear what Adam was surely going to tell him. He remained standing at the top of the porch steps and waited until Adam reined his horse up just short of the steps.
“Pa,” Adam said, greeting his father solemnly.
“Adam,” was his father’s simple return. I
t was unnecessary to ask, for Nathan could read the regret in his son’s face.
Mose was not as adept at reading expressions. He required verbal explanations. “Did you find Jake?” he interrupted. “Who are these folks you brung with you?” He looked Finn and Bonnie over with a curious eye, taking special interest in the three mules on a line behind Finn’s horse.
“Jake ain’t comin’ home,” Adam stated simply. Nathan remained calm, his reaction only a slight twitch of his eye as he fought the emotion that Adam knew was tearing at his insides. He turned his head toward Finn and Bonnie, who had pulled their horses up short to wait for Adam to greet his father. “This is Bonnie and Finn . . .” He paused then, trying to recall. “I can’t remember your whole name, Finn.” He couldn’t remember Bonnie’s last name, either, but let it go at that.
“It’s Michael,” Finn quickly replied, “Michael Finn, and I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Right,” Adam continued. “Anyway, Jake was prospectin’ with Finn for a while before he was killed.”
“Lord have mercy,” Mose uttered sorrowfully, “Jake dead?”
Nathan ignored Mose’s lament and turned his attention to the strangers his son had brought to his home. “You folks must be tired. Looks like you’ve been ridin’ awhile. Adam, maybe you can help Mose take care of the horses, and I’ll see if Pearl can’t rustle up somethin’ to eat for Mr. and Mrs. Finn. Then you can tell me about your brother.” He didn’t notice the quick smiles on Adam’s and Bonnie’s faces that his gracious invitation caused. They made no effort to correct his assumption, but Finn was quick to respond.
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