Bride's Flight from Virginia City, Montana

by Murray Pura

Matt nodded. “Yeah. She’s right. He could. You got your boys ready for that?”

  “Ever since she brought ‘em home.”

  “Sometimes I think she should be marshal.”

  The men smiled. Matt and Zeph headed up the steps and knocked the door.

  Charlotte had been watching Zephaniah and Matt ride in from a window. She was glad to see both of them but, she admitted to herself, if Matt had come alone, it wouldn’t have been good enough. Pausing to check her hair in the hall mirror, she answered the door in her yellow cotton skirt and white blouse. Her hair was pulled back and she wore silver earrings. She gave them a smile.

  “Marshal. Zephaniah Parker. Please come in.”

  They took off their hats and stepped into the hall then paused a moment to glance around at the large front room with its massive fireplace and rugs. She knew Zeph hadn’t been inside for a long time and watched him marvel at the high ceilings and oak walls and floors, the chandeliers, the couches, and the huge buffalo head over the mantel.

  “It’s beautiful, Miss Spence,” he said to her.

  Zephaniah Parker and his polite manners that went far and beyond the call of duty!

  “Matt,” she teased, “can I get you to arrest him if he calls me Miss Spence once more?”

  “I’ll ask Judge Skinner. There could be something on the books.”

  “I’m Charlotte, Zephaniah Parker. Especially to you.”

  As she turned her back to lead the way into another room, she saw Matt raise his eyebrows at his brother, and Zeph shrug. Well, Zeph, she thought, it’s still the season to keep you guessing, because I’m not sure of how I feel about you myself.

  The children were sitting and eating a breakfast the cook, Pete Sampson, had served up: ham, eggs, bacon, toast, big jars of jam, a pitcher of milk. They both smiled at Zeph. She could see right away that he approved of the transformation she’d wrought in them—they’d both had baths, their hair was clean and combed, and the girl had blue ribbons in hers and was wearing a blue dress. Looking at the boy in the shirt and denim pants she’d purchased in town, she realized there was quite a change from the bedraggled young man Zeph had brought into Iron Springs the day before.

  “Marshal,” she said with a playful curtsy, “may I introduce to you Cody and Cheyenne Wyoming?”

  Matt inclined his head. “We’ve met. First time I’ve heard their names though.”

  “Oh, their names are a surprise to everyone,” she said, “but they insist on using them.” She glanced at Zeph. “You both know Pete? Would you men like some of his excellent food or magnificent coffee?”

  “That’s kind of you, Charlotte,” said Matt, “but I’d appreciate a word with you alone, if I may. Perhaps Z could spend some time with Cody and Cheyenne while we talk?”

  “Fine with me,” said Zeph, pulling a chair up to the table. “Take all the time you want. Fill me up a plate, Pete. I’m starved. You starved, Cody?”

  “I was once.” The boy smiled. “But not anymore.”

  “How about you, Cheyenne?”

  “The men keep us safe here, Mister Parker, don’t they?”

  Zeph looked at her and nodded. “You bet. Miss Spence hires only the bravest and the best.”

  Pete leaned over Zeph’s shoulder with a plate heaped with pancakes and sausages. “How’s that, Zeph?”

  “Why, thank you, Pete, that’ll do for a start. Any maple syrup around here, Cody?”

  Charlotte led the marshal into the parlor with its antelope heads on the walls and dark-brown sofa and chairs and piano. She closed the door firmly and then leaned her back against it.

  “What do you have to tell me, Marshal?”

  “The kids were part of a group of families that came here from Pennsylvania, town named Bird in Hand. Their folks were all killed.”

  “Indians?”

  “White men, Charlotte. The Raber Gang.”

  She felt ice in her chest when he used the name. “The Angel of Death.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m getting a posse together, and we’ll be going after them at first light. Zeph will be my tracker.” “Is he any good at that?”

  She saw Matt’s eyes narrow. “Yes, he is, Charlotte. Any better, and I’d swear he’s got Sioux or Apache in his veins.”

  “Why aren’t you going after them today?”

  “We’ll do the funeral for the families this afternoon. Set everything else to rights before we head out. Could be gone for weeks.”

  “I see. Anything else?”

  “Well, we’re trying to get ahold of the children’s kin, so we’ve sent out a telegram. The families were the Millers, Troyers, and Kaufmanns.”

  Charlotte passed a hand over her face. But she forced herself to speak up. “I hope you are successful, Marshal.”

  “Are you feeling all right, Charlotte?”

  She lifted her head. “I’m perfectly fine, Matt. Is there anything else?”

  “I was wondering if you would be attending the funeral with the children—”

  She shook her head. “No, Matt, they’ve been through so much already. Next week will be soon enough for them to pay their respects.”

  “I understand. There is also the possibility of the Raber Gang coming for the children. We don’t know if the kids saw any of their faces. It might be best if we moved them into Iron Springs for the time being, so we can offer them better protection.”

  Charlotte stopped leaning against the door and stood straight. She felt a strange knot of anger in her stomach, what friends and family called “Charlotte getting her Spence up.” “We can take care of them perfectly fine here. There’s no need to disturb them further by running them into town. They’re just getting settled in.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I don’t suppose you’d let me have a chance to ask them what they saw and if they can identify any of the outlaws?”

  The anger was in Charlotte’s head now. “Certainly not, Matt. You should know me better than to ask. The children need to recover from their ordeal, not keep being reminded of it. You do your job and find the killers and leave those children alone.”

  “Yes, Miss Spence.”

  Charlotte led the way back to the kitchen. Her face was set like stone. Matt stood awkwardly behind her, his face looking like a hat someone had crumpled in their hands.

  “Best we be moving on, Z,” Matt said.

  “All right,” responded Zeph, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back, you two, so make sure you have plenty of adventures to tell me about next time I come around.”

  “We will!” said Cheyenne.

  Charlotte walked the men to the door.

  “Thank you for coming, gentlemen. Zephaniah, I hope you will make your way here again tomorrow. I think it’s important for the children’s recovery to see you.”

  “It will be my pleasure—”

  “Charlotte,” she said.

  “Miss Spence.”

  She smiled sadly and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Will we see you this afternoon?” asked Zeph.

  “No, your brother and I have discussed that. I think it’s best the children stay here and keep putting all that behind them. A day will come when they can say a proper good-bye to their parents and relatives. But not today. Thank you again.”

  She shut the door firmly. Zeph could hear it being locked and then double-locked from inside.

  “Well?” he asked his brother as they walked their horses back into town.

  “That woman,” answered Matt, “isn’t afraid of anything, and she’s sure not afraid of Seraphim Raber. She wouldn’t budge from that house if a whole army was coming after her.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Pete Sampson told me she shot and killed a mountain lion yesterday.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, sir. Right after her horse had thrown her.”

  Matt whistled. “I guess that about says it all when it comes to Miss Charlotte Spence.”

  Zeph squinted ahead. “There’s someone ridin
g this way, Matt. They’re in a lot of hurry.”

  Matt stared. “It’s my deputy.”

  They spurred their horses forward. When the three reined up in the middle of the road, Zeph could see the young deputy’s face was gray and tight.

  “What is it, Luke?” demanded Matt.

  “I’ve got bad news and worse news. Which do you want?”

  “Dish it all out.”

  “We got three telegrams since you went to Spence’s. Heard back from the law in Lancaster County. Those three families were excommunicated or something, kicked out of their church, but the relatives told the sheriff they’d take the kids back.”

  “Not so bad. What else?”

  “Raber hit settlements near Copper Creek, three days’ ride north. Burned two out, took some cattle, killed seven settlers. And Marshal Baker and his deputy, Ned Green.”

  Zeph glanced quickly at his brother. Matt had counted both those men as two of his closest friends. Ned had stood as best man when he married Sally. Matt clenched his teeth, and Zeph saw his knuckles whiten on his reins.

  “Go on,” Matt whispered.

  “Witnesses said Raber had five riders with him. And tracks have them headed back this way.”

  Matt nodded. Zeph could see his mind was working fast.

  “You said there were three telegrams.”

  “Billy King and me didn’t believe the third was genuine, so we cabled back to the station at Copper Creek. They said it was the real article. Some of Raber’s men had put guns to their heads.”

  “All right. What’d it say?”

  “Short and sweet. ‘Give us the two kids, or we kill the woman and anybody else we can get our hands on in Iron Springs.’”

  Chapter 5

  The sun was slanting through the Colorado blue spruce that lined one side of the cemetery. As Jude spoke, Zeph looked over the crowd. He figured there were about a hundred and fifty people or more. Carriages were lined up on the road. He could remember a time when Charlotte Spence was the only one with a carriage. Not any more. He guessed Iron Springs was getting sophisticated. Not so bad a thing, maybe. What were they at now, five hundred, six hundred? In the ‘60s, when he’d first come out, there’d been two thousand, on account of the gold strikes in the region. Lots of tents and leantos. Now there was less gold and more iron, and people had gone north to Helena. Virginia City had lost a lot of people, too. The difference was, Iron Springs wasn’t all built on gold, so folks were trickling back in. He knew for a fact that Matt was still getting run off his feet and had requested the town increase his budget to allow him to hire more deputies like he’d had during the gold rush. His brother had kind of hinted Zeph should be one of them this time around. But Zeph was happy with the Bar Zee for now and hoped Matt wouldn’t ask, at least not right away.

  Matt had deputized about a dozen citizens because of the danger from Seraphim Raber, and the town council had agreed to pay them a dollar a day if they supplied their own firearms and ammunition. Zeph saw them standing at various places at the edge of the crowd: three-piece black suits and derbies, every one of them, with shiny new badges on their lapels. They all had Winchesters, too, most of them brand-new 1873s, some with the octagonal barrel; but others had carbines with the 20-inch round barrel that had just come out the year before. There were a couple of 1866 Yellow Boys, too, with their distinctive brassy looking gunmetal frames.

  “Hey,” he whispered to Matt, as they stood together with their Stetsons in their hands, “I thought they were supposed to supply their own firearms?”

  Matt kept staring at Jude. “I had a couple of crates in the cellar.”

  “What about the duds?”

  “Nobody said I couldn’t give ‘em uniforms. The tailor donated the suits. Had spares.”

  “In all the right sizes? Are you playing politics with this Raber thing?”

  “Just want the citizens of Iron Springs to see how good it looks and feels to have their own police force.” “Anything in it for the tailor?” “Shhh. Your brother’s praying.”

  Zeph dropped his head and prayed, too. It was the way they’d been raised in Wyoming—not to believe in God and church and prayer for show, like some people, but to mean it and to live it.

  “Lord, we believe these people would have made good neighbors,” Jude prayed, “and good citizens. We believe their children would have made good playmates for our children. Now let their bodies rest under these beautiful blue mountains that You made for our joy, and may their souls rest with You in heaven until the day comes when You wed body and soul once again in a new earth and a new heaven. And Lord, deliver us from the evil that harmed them. We ask this in the name of Jesus our Savior, amen.”

  “Amen” rumbled through the large mass of people as if distant thunder had pealed through the hills. Eleven pine coffins sat ready next to mounds of earth. Zeph had helped dig two of the graves and then raced back to the Bar Zee for a change of clothes. The earth had softened up, so the work hadn’t been too hard.

  Matt slapped him in the stomach with his hat. “You’re looking like a deputy today yourself, except for the Stetson.”

  “Black suit’s all I got.”

  “Where you headed now? Your ranch?”

  “Not mine. Guess I’ll pay Miss Spence an extra visit today and explain about those telegrams.”

  “No need to go there. She’s here. She watched the whole thing from Lincoln Creek Ridge.”

  Zeph glanced up at the grassy hill that overlooked the cemetery and the town, high and sharp and away to the east. Matt’s eagle eye hadn’t missed a thing. Charlotte was up there, so were the horse and buggy, so were the kids; but so were two deputies, one on horseback, another in back of a clump of bushes.

  “She changed her mind,” said Zeph in genuine surprise. Matt smiled. “Free country.”

  Zeph walked past the usual cluster that gathered around a popular minister and shook Jude’s hand—“Thank you, brother”—then made his way through the tangle of townspeople and carriages to Cricket, hitched back and away, behind a tall blue spruce. He swung into the saddle and walked her up the bridle path to the top of the ridge, passing the two deputies who were making their way down, both mounted now. He reined in by the buggy.

  Charlotte and Cheyenne were in black dresses with black bonnets and no lace. Cody was in a black suit that looked like it had come from the scissors of the same tailor who made the outfits for the deputies, except he wore a black Stetson with a simple silver band. Where did she come up with all these clothes? Zeph removed his hat.

  “Miss Spence.”

  She inclined her head. “Mister Parker.” “Cody. Cheyenne. I am sorry for today. God bless you.” “They are alive in heaven,” said Cheyenne, looking up at him.

  Zeph nodded. “I believe that.”

  Charlotte put her arms around Cody and Cheyenne. “We decided to come, but to have our own private ceremony up here.”

  “A good plan.”

  “We listened to your brother’s words. He has always been a fine preacher.” “Yes, he has.”

  She studied Zeph’s face. He noticed that her eyes looked violet.

  “Do you have something to tell me?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “Well, climb down and we can step over there. You children don’t mind if Mister Parker and I have a short chat, do you?” “No, ma’am,” said Cody. “Miss Charlotte,” she corrected. “Miss Charlotte, ma’am.”

  She waited for Zeph by a large boulder with a bronze plate embedded in it which he’d never bothered to read. The sun poured down over her and caught a wisp of blond hair that had escaped the edge of her bonnet, igniting it like a match. The mountains were blue and white behind her, a perfect backdrop, he thought, for her granite strength and her striking blue eyes.

  She smiled as he approached, squaring his hat on his head. “What do you think of the view?”

  “It’s beautiful up here,” he said, but he did not take his eyes off her.

  She sh
ook her head. “I meant the mountains.” “I’ve seen the mountains.”

  She averted her face quickly and began to walk. “I used to come up here with Ricky. We both liked it so much, especially at sunset when the snow turns so many bright colors: pink, scarlet, gold, green. He’d say, ‘Char, you have to bring your beau up here some day,’ and I’d tell him, ‘Ricky, you have to bring your bride.’ But he never had that chance.”

  “Well, Miss Spence, I’m sure you will have yours.”

  “Miss Spence. I suppose it’s too much to ask that up here on Lincoln Creek Ridge you might use my Christian name?”

  “Matt asked me to talk to you.”

  “Matt? You mean you can’t decide to talk to me on your own?”

  Zeph caught the edge in her voice. “I didn’t mean it that way. I would have come out to the ranch to see you and the kids tomorrow like you wanted.”

  “Like I wanted? Do you want it?”

  Zeph swallowed. Okay, he thought, here goes.

  “Any excuse to get out to the Spence Ranch and see you is a good excuse, Miss Spence.”

  She lifted her head. Then her voice and the stiffness in her body gentled. “Thank you, Z.”

  The blood started roaring in his head, but he knew he had to stay calm and not blurt something foolish. If anything was to come of Miss Charlotte Spence and Mister Zephaniah T. Parker, there was still a long way to go. And there were other matters that had to be attended to right now.

  “Miss Spence, three telegrams came in this morning. One of them was from Lancaster County. The sheriff there told us the three families were part of a church in that county, at a place called Bird in Hand, but that they’d been asked to leave the church—excommunicated, I guess, was the high-grade Wells Fargo word he used.”

  Her face and eyes darkened again. “Yes. I know the word. And they weren’t asked. They were ordered.” There was that sharp steel in her voice again.

  “They did say they’d take the children back,” he added.

  “Did they? Did it ever occur to them the children might not want to go back to such people? That they might find more love and a better life out here?”

  “There was another telegram, too. It was from Seraph Raber—”