Blood on the Mountain

by A. T. Butler

  After another five minutes of walking without finding another clue, Jacob finally realized he was lost. Deep in the trees like he was, it was difficult to even see where the sun was. But at least he knew that uphill would be east. Or, it should be east. Why didn’t he think to get more specific directions from Joel? Why didn’t he consider the fact that they might get separated?

  “Joel Colfax!” he yelled again.

  He wasn’t afraid of making noise. After all, the more noise he made the less likely he was to be surprised by a bear or whatever other predators might be in these mountains. Were there bears in Arizona? Mountain lions? There must be. He should have asked someone before setting off to some unknown terrain.

  Franny kept close to him, nudging at his collar periodically. Maybe she sensed the animals just outside Jacob’s range of sight. Or maybe she just was afraid of another branch falling. Either way, Jacob kept a comforting hand on her as they tried to find the trail again.

  He kept moving in the direction he thought was south, along the length of the mountainside rather than farther up or downhill. Jacob was certain that eventually he’d find something that would help him get his bearings.

  Jacob took a deep breath, filled his lungs, and yelled as loud as he could. “Hello!”

  “Hello?” a tiny voice answered him.

  Jacob couldn’t be certain where it was coming from so he yelled again. “Joel?”

  “Mr. Payne?”

  That second response floated down to him from uphill. Jacob stomach sank as he realized he had been going the wrong direction. If he had not heard the voice at that moment he may have wandered around the mountain side for hours more.

  “Keep yelling, Joel,” he called, relieved.

  “Hello!”

  Joel periodically shouted to Jacob, often enough that the bounty hunter was able to put himself in the right direction, heading uphill toward where the boy waited for him. He continued to lead the horse on foot until they both reached the trail.

  “Did you just wait here for me?” Jacob asked, as soon as Joel was within his sight.

  The boy nodded. “Is that alright? I thought I probably shouldn’t move off the trail in case you came back.”

  “That’s perfect. Let’s hope nothing else spooks this girl.”

  “Yeah.” Joel furrowed his brow. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I dunno. She’s not my horse, so I’m not sure. I’d hate for her to become a problem on the trail.”

  “You can’t— I mean, um,” Joel stammered. “What I’m trying to say, sir, respectfully, is that I’m worried. I can’t let anything stop us from rescuing Flora.”

  “I know, Joel. I’ll figure it out.” He swung back into the saddle and nudged Franny forward. “Are we close?”

  “Yep. Should be. I think only another ten minutes or so.”

  It was even fewer than that before Jacob began to smell the distinctive scent of a cooking fire. A couple of them, he thought. That thick smokiness mixed with deliciousness of roasting meat guided them. All of a sudden, Jacob realized he was starving. He couldn’t wait to eat whatever that was he was smelling.

  The trail leveled out as the trees thinned. The mountain continued to climb ahead of them, but the town of Elk Springs was nestled into a small hollow on the mountainside. It wasn’t yet sunset, but many of the buildings they passed shined with lit lanterns from within. The warm, pleasant light of suppertime welcomed Joel and Jacob.

  “We can stop at the tavern,” Joel said. “Follow me.”

  Before they got much further, though, they were stopped in the middle of the road by a group of men. A tall man led the group. He wore his blond mustache long and unkempt, connected to his sideburns. The man glowered at the newcomers from under his hat as he stalked toward them. The rest of his group followed closely and casually but visibly held their guns. Shotguns, revolvers and pistols rested in hands ready to pull the trigger if needed.

  Jacob reined in Franny, slowing to a stop at Joel’s side.

  “Joel Colfax?” the mustached man in front asked. “Is that you? What are you doing here? What are you doing with this stranger?” He glared at Jacob who looked back without responding.

  “Mr. Parr showed up at our place, Sheriff Dale,” Joel said. “He told us what happened to Flora and me and Mr. Payne have come to help.”

  “Mr. Payne, huh?” The sheriff walked up closer to them, and Jacob silently willed Franny to stay calm and not get spooked again. “What makes you think we want your help?”

  “That’s right. Jacob Payne. I’m a bounty hunter and have some experience tracking down wanted men. I’m happy to help if I can.”

  The man looked skeptical, but was interrupted by one of the others in the group speaking up. “Let’s get these fellas fed, anyway, Chester. They musta had a long ride from Cork. We’ll fill Mr. Payne in on the situation and then he can decide if he still wants to help.”

  Jacob tried to get a sign from Joel about what he thought, but the boy was trembling with fury. He stayed quiet, but Jacob could see something that had just been said upset him greatly.

  “That’s mighty kind of you,” Jacob answered for both of them.

  Just a few minutes later, Jacob found his horse safely boarded in the Elk Springs livery, and Joel and himself seated at a long table in the Elk Springs Tavern, surrounded by the armed welcoming committee.

  “Dig in, boys. I know you been on the road all day.”

  Jacob took his first bite. The smoked elk and potatoes were warm and satisfying after smelling it on their approach up the mountain. He took a few more filling bites before he broke the silence with his questions.

  “Could you men fill us in on what has been done to rescue Miss Kimball? What are we dealing with and what do we already know?”

  “Miss Kimball.” The man on the end snorted with suppressed laughter as he repeated Jacob’s phrase.

  “Is that funny?” Jacob asked.

  “It’s Mrs. Kimball,” the man called Chester clarified. He was seated directly across the table from Jacob and Joel. He had been called sheriff earlier, and seemed to be the leader of this party.

  “I’m sorry.” Jacob looked from one man’s face to the other. “I just assumed she was a daughter, since she’s younger than Joel.”

  “She is the daughter,” Joel said emphatically.

  “I don’t know about that,” Chester said, condescendingly. “Those Mormons are known for taking more than one wife. Why else would this Kimball fellow live way out in wild like he does, if he were living like normal folk?”

  “What?” Joel sputtered angrily. “What are you talking about? I’ve known the Kimballs since I was five years old. They are exactly like you and me.”

  “That may be, son, but that don’t mean you know the whole truth.”

  “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Joel said to Jacob. “Flora and her sister Edith’s mother died when they were young. The new Mrs. Kimball is their stepmother. Not their sister-wife or whatever they’re called.”

  “Do you know why they live so far away from the rest of the town?” Jacob asked. “I have to admit that does look suspicious.”

  “Wouldn’t you if you had to live with such closed-minded, unchristian pigs like these?” He gestured to the man sitting opposite, clearly not caring that the man could hear every word and criticism he said.

  “Well,” the sheriff began defiantly. “Maybe she is Kimball’s daughter. But those folks are real queer and we don’t know he didn’t take her as a wife too.”

  Many of the other men at the table shifted in their seats, eating silently, but shooting looks to each other around and shaking their heads. Jacob felt the room shift, away from the sheriff, distancing him and his ideas from the rest of the group, as though they were willing to follow him if it meant not going after an outlaw, but not as far as calling their neighbor names.

  “Now, Chester.” The same man who had soothed him earlier spoke up. “That’s a mighty strong accusat
ion. Let’s not speak ill of our neighbor without any kind of proof.”

  “I don’t need proof. I can tell.”

  “You don’t know anything,” Joel said coldly. “Flora Kimball is kind and pure and at this very moment she is in the clutches of a madman. We have to go after her.”

  “We’ll not be going in the dark though,” Jacob reminded him. “So let’s get back to the discussion of what has been done and what do you boys already know.”

  There was a perceptible pause while all in attendance waited to see if Chester wanted to speak. When he continued to shovel food into his mouth angrily, the man to his right spoke up.

  Chapter Five

  “We haven’t actually gone after her at all,” the man said quietly, looking down at his plate. He quickly took a bite, filling his mouth with food so he couldn’t be expected to talk any more.

  “What?” Joel said, aghast. “I thought— I mean, Mr. Parr came tearing into Cork yesterday. He made it sound like you were treating this as an emergency. What have you been doing all day?”

  “We are … That is, we did. To the extent that we contacted the U.S. Marshal.”

  Jacob almost wondered if he had misheard the man. He looked from one man to another, trying to ascertain exactly what he was dealing with, who was calling the shots, and how much help he could expect from them going forward. To their credit, all of the men aside from the sheriff seemed at least a little embarrassed by their lack of action. Staying safe and comfortable is one thing. Acting cowardly is quite another.

  “Start at the beginning,” he said firmly.

  “Mr. Parr told us that this man showed up a few days ago asking about the Herron Gold Mine?” Joel prompted.

  Each of the six men traded glances. Jacob thought he felt one of them kicking another under the table, but no one spoke up yet. Three of the men took large bites of their meal and averted their eyes. Without learning the specific details of the girl’s kidnapping and what information the outlaw might be working with, Jacob despaired of finding her easily.

  He looked from one Elk Springs man to another, waiting for one of them to step up and volunteer details.

  Sheriff Dale acquiesced first, but volunteered another. “Arnie, you’re the first one that talked to him. You tell Mr. Payne about what he said to you.”

  The cluster of men looked down to the thin, gangly young man at the corner of the table. Jacob followed their gaze, expectantly, trying to hide his impatience. Arnie put his fork down and pushed his plate away from him. He took a deep breath.

  “Yeah, so.” He cleared his throat. “This Pickens character showed up here a few days ago. We get some strangers in town from time to time, since Elk Springs is the biggest place on the mountain. He came into my store, asking for rope, a pick axe and some other things. I think I musta been the first person to talk to him. While he picked out the supplies he needed, he made small talk about the rumored mine, just like most strangers do. I didn’t think anything more about it.

  “I think I told him everything I know. I wasn’t in Elk Springs at the peak of the mine searching, but I know some of the history. I, um.” He looked at the sheriff who nodded his encouragement. “I gave Pickens the names of Kimball and Colfax who, to my understanding, had done the most searching for the mine.”

  Joel gasped and started coughing, as though choking on a bite. Jacob pounded on his back a couple times before the boy could gasp out, “You gave him my father’s name?”

  Arnie nodded. “You have to understand, I didn’t mean no harm by it. Your father ain’t even around here no more. I thought this man was just like every other would-be miner that come through here searching after a dream. I couldn’t help him, but I could send him on his way.”

  Joel’s anger could be felt like a wave coming off of him, so Jacob interrupted with another question, before the boy began yelling.

  “That was the last time you saw him?”

  “No, not exactly. Over the next two or three days, we saw him go in the saloon, the livery, make small talk with the women who came into town to do their own shopping. He sent a telegram to someone in Santa Fe, and then hovered in the office for another couple hours, eavesdropping and asking questions.

  “He must’ve gotten the name Kimball from a couple people, not just me, because yesterday morning he went out to their place. It’s a good three miles or so out of town. He definitely went there looking for something particular.”

  “And you’ve talked to Mr. Kimball about this?” Jacob asked.

  “I’m getting to that,” Arnie said, holding his hands up to ward off any further questions.

  The bearded man sitting next to him jumped in. “Yesterday, just before lunchtime, Kimball himself comes tearing into town yelling for help and riding straight to the sheriff office.” He looked pointedly at the sheriff. “He was hollering about Flora getting kidnapped.”

  “And then you all formed a posse and went after her, right?” Joel looked anxiously from one face to another. “You went after her right away. Tell me you started immediately. She’s only seventeen.”

  Arnie shook his head and looked embarrassed. “You gotta understand, none of us know Flora. Kimball only ever comes into town by himself and leaves the rest of his family out on the property. Boyd here has glimpsed a few of Kimball’s women from a far, when they’re out in the garden and he rides out to check trap lines.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? Even if you didn’t know her, she still needs your help. Why would you not give your neighbor whatever aid you can? Isn’t that the Christian thing to do?”

  There was an awkward silence as each of the men avoided meeting the eyes of either Joel or Jacob. A heavy silence had fallen over the group, and Jacob noticed one of the men fidgeting with the buttons on his vest, another flicking non-existent dust off of his hat. As a group they were hiding something.

  Jacob needed to know what it was.

  He began quietly, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice. “I suspect there’s something different about the Kimballs, some reason for hesitation from a community that would otherwise do everything they can.”

  “There’s nothing different about them,” Joel protested. “They’re the most honorable family I know.”

  The silence persisted, until the sheriff happened to peek up and catch Jacob’s eye. He fixed on the man an expression of such determination, that he finally spoke.

  “Well.” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “You see. Reverend Fowler had the idea that maybe the girl being kidnapped was a judgment on Kimball for taking multiple wives.”

  “What!” Joel shouted.

  Jacob put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to keep him from leaping completely out of his seat and knocking over the table.

  “We didn’t want to go against the Lord’s will,” Sheriff Dale continued.

  Jacob glanced at the young man next to him. Joel must have been shocked into silence. He sat gaping, open-mouthed at the group of men sitting around him. He had been so well trained to respect his elders, he didn’t appear to even know how to react when faced with such a situation.

  For Jacob’s part, he had found that keeping his temper usually led to more cooperation from whoever he was angry with. But in this situation it was a struggle.

  “I see,” he said. “And this Reverend Fowler knows the Kimballs well? And you all trust him to show you the will of God in this?”

  “He is a man of God,” Sheriff Dale said indignantly. “Who are we to doubt him?”

  “The reverend does know the Kimballs,” Boyd clarified. “He rides out to their place maybe once a week to try to preach and show them the true way of the Lord.”

  “He goes out of his way to make that family feel shamed?” Jacob clarified.

  “If he really knew them,” Joel muttered, “he’d know that Flora is Mr. Kimball’s daughter.”

  “Well, maybe he’s done take a daughter as a wife,” the sheriff retorted. “Those folks’re known to disr
egard all of the laws of both God and man.”

  “He wouldn’t,” Joel said. “He would never. They would never. Mr. Kimball is a good man.”

  “How long has it been since you lived here?” the sheriff asked. “A lot can happen given enough time.”

  “I know Mr. Kimball better than any of you. He helped my family and treated me like a son when I was little. And I was just there visiting less than a year ago.”

  “And during that year, maybe he took his daughter as his wife. Or maybe he done something else. We don’t know. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and you’ll notice it was none of our daughters that have been kidnapped.”

  “I think we’re losing the thread,” Jacob said, taking control of the situation again. “Setting aside the reverend for a moment, let’s go back to when Mr. Kimball came riding into town.”

  The sheriff sat up straight, confident in his part of the story. “He came straight to jail, told me what happened and rode home again. Claimed he needed to make sure the rest of his family stayed safe. That Pickens could come back.”

  “And that’s when you consulted with Reverend Fowler?”

  He nodded. “He advised that we not risk any more men’s lives on behalf of the sinners, so we don’t draw God’s judgment on ourselves.”

  Jacob barely resisted rolling his eyes.

  “We didn’t ignore it completely, though,” the short, stocky man on the end said. “We sent for help.”

  “True,” the sheriff said with a nod. “We sent a wire to Tucson. She had been gone for a couple hours already, but we didn’t want there to be any blowback from the law. We did our part. It wasn’t until a couple hours later when Mrs. Merrill insisted she was expecting a wire from her sister in Kansas City that we suspected the communications weren’t going through. Sure enough, Boyd here climbed up top the telegraph office to investigate and found the wires cut.”