“If there’s a place to do it,” Jonathan said. “We sure couldn’t right here.”
At the moment he was right. The highway here curved around the shoulder of a mountain with a steep wall of rock just a few feet away to their left, while to the right was a guardrail, beyond which was a drop-off almost steep enough to be considered a cliff. There was nowhere to go if a vehicle approached, and sure enough, one did arrive right at this most inopportune time. They heard the winding of the motor and the shifting of gears long before the headlight beams cut through the dark around the bend behind them. There was simply no way to avoid being seen, so Shauna and Jonathan moved as far to the right as possible and kept peddling. The road was really steep here, and they were barely going five miles per hour. When she dared to glance back, Shauna saw that the approaching vehicle was a big pickup truck, with a livestock trailer in tow behind it. The driver honked the horn as he approached and slowed down to match their crawling speed. Shauna and Jonathan stopped at that point, and she immediately grabbed the Glock from her handlebar bag, planning to have the advantage if this encounter turned threatening in any way. The truck stopped alongside them and in the shadows of the cab, Shauna could see a lone man leaning over to roll down the manual crank window on the passenger’s side.
“It’s awful cold to be riding bicycles out here in the middle of the night. Where are you two going?”
For some inexplicable reason, Shauna got the feeling that this man could be trusted maybe because he’d trusted them enough to stop when it could be equally dangerous to him too. Maybe it was because he saw that she was a woman, or maybe it was just that they were on such an isolated road at that hour and it wasn’t the kind of place troublemakers would seek out. Whatever it was, the feeling was mutual between them, and Shauna told him the name of the valley she and Jonathan were trying to reach. That was a lot farther than he was going, but he offered them a ride to where he was turning off, saying it would save them probably 50 miles of riding. Shauna and Jonathan couldn’t express their gratitude enough. At the rate they were going in this terrain, that was huge. The man opened his empty cattle trailer and let them put their bikes inside, and then the two of them rode up front in the cab with him.
“Traveling at night is a good idea all right, and that’s why I’m doing it too, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it on a bicycle. Lots of folks are riding those things now though, all right, and horses too, what with the gas shortages. That’s why I’ve got my trailer back there. I’m on my way home from delivering some horses for the fellow I work for. We’re still set for gas for a long time, but who knows how long things will be this way?”
When the Good Samaritan driver, who’d introduced himself as Mr. Stevenson, dropped them off, it was around 2 am in the morning, at the intersection of a gravel forest service road. “Take that road up the top of the next pass. You’ll see where the Continental Divide Trail crosses it. You can’t miss it. But I’d wait it out ’til morning if I were you. It’ll be colder the higher you get, and you won’t likely see anybody out here anyway. Once you get on that trail, you’d better try to make good time and get back down out of that high country before you get caught by weather. It’s getting the time of year when it can get bad up there. Take my word for it.”
“That was a lucky break!” Jonathan said, when the taillights of the truck and trailer disappeared around the bend into the darkness. “I will take his word for the weather too! It already feels like it’s 20 degrees colder here than it was back there where he picked us up!”
They took shelter in a dense grove of spruce trees to get out of the wind, getting a little sleep before the sun was up and they pushed on towards the top of the pass. The pushing became literal when the gravel road proved much too steep for either of them to pedal on the loaded bikes. “This is why we’re going to have to leave them when we reach that trail,” Shauna said. “Even the roads here are too steep. The trail will probably be a lot worse.”
It took almost the entire day to reach the top of the pass, but they did find the trail crossing right where Mr. Stevenson said it would be. They hid the bikes in the woods well away from it on the off chance that they would need to come back for them, and then set about tying their various small bags and extra clothing and other gear to their day packs. It wasn’t the best arrangement for a long hike, but it would have to do. Shauna tucked the Glock into her belt, so it was close at hand and ready, and then they set out to the south, stopping after just a short distance to take in the spectacular view from the spine of a ridge from which they could see for what seemed a hundred miles both to the east and west of the Continental Divide. Jonathan was speechless, having never seen anything remotely like this other than in photos and on television.
But just as Mr. Stevenson had predicted, the weather appeared to be changing by the time they began looking for a sheltered spot among the rocks to spend their first night on the trail. Instead of a starry mountain night, it was dark and overcast and snow flurries were falling as they huddled close to a fire and took turns trying to sleep while the other kept it punched up. By daylight, ominous dark clouds negated any chance they’d be warmed by the sun, and by the time they were hiking the light flurries had turned to big flakes and snow was rapidly accumulating on the trail. After two hours of pushing on to the south through these conditions, the snow was getting much heavier, driven horizontally by biting winds and making it difficult to even see the trail. When they reached a lower saddle between two ridges, Shauna knew they had to find a more sheltered spot to wait out the storm. The trail seemed to lead downhill at a steeper angle here, and the footing was becoming treacherous, with loose rocks hidden from view under the covering of snow. Still, they pushed on, the route dropping fast in elevation, giving Shauna hope that they’d find a warmer place with less exposure to ride it out. Jonathan was ahead of her now, working his way down a slope that didn’t seem to have a path at all under the snow, when suddenly, she saw him slip and then tumble and slide. He yelled out as he disappeared from view in the driving snow, and Shauna screamed after him.
She felt her heart racing as she carefully picked her way down to where he’d been standing when he fell. She had no idea if he’d fallen a short distance or gone over the edge of a major cliff until she heard him moaning in pain, his voice barely audible over the howl of the wind. “JONATHAN! WHERE ARE YOU? I’M COMING DOWN THERE!”
Shauna felt carefully with each foot before settling her weight on it as she descended the snow-covered rocks. Some fifteen feet down the slope she saw him, curled in a fetal position where his tumble had been stopped by a small tree. When she finally reached his side, she saw that his lower right leg was bent in an unnatural position, and the look on his face told her he was in excruciating pain.
“My leg! It’s broken isn’t it, Shauna?”
She already knew that it was, and badly, but she looked down at it again before affirming it.
“Now I’m gonna die out here! That’s what happens when you break a leg in the wilderness! I’ve seen it in too many movies! There’s no way I’m getting out of here without help, and there’s no one to help!”
“You’re not going to die, Jonathan. I know it hurts, but maybe it’s not broken all that bad.” Shauna knew this wasn’t the truth, even as she said it though. The break had to be bad for his leg to be contorted as it was. She carefully pulled his pants leg up enough to make sure there wasn’t a bone protruding through the skin, and when she found no blood that was a relief, but even so there was no way Jonathan was walking out of here on his own. He was right when he said an injury like that in a place such as this could result in death, but the more immediate threat to both of them was dying from exposure, and the weather wasn’t getting better. Shauna glanced around looking for a place she might drag him to some semblance of shelter, or for branches or something she could use to build one. But something distracted her before she made up her mind which was best. It was something in the air, carried by the wind from somew
here down in the heavily forested drainage below.
“Do you smell that, Jonathan? Is that what I think it is?”
“Woodsmoke,” Jonathan said.
“Then that must mean there’s someone down there somewhere. It wouldn’t be a wildfire in weather like this. At least I don’t think so.”
“If it is somebody, they may not be friendly.”
“No, but I’ve got to try and find out. We’ve got to have help, Jonathan. I know you’re in pain but let me go down there just a little way and see if I can see anything. If I don’t, I’ll come back and we’ll ride out this storm right here and figure out something else when it’s over.”
Shauna wondered if perhaps the wind was carrying that smoke from somewhere much farther away than she could hope to walk, but she had to try. Leaving most of her gear with Jonathan, she carefully made her way down, finding the going a little easier as she reached the heavier tree cover where the snow hadn’t yet accumulated. She turned to look back at Jonathan one more time before she slipped out of sight, knowing the kid was both hurting and frightened, lying there helpless in the middle of nowhere. But the scent of the smoke was still hanging in the air. She followed it on downhill, scanning the trees ahead of her for signs of people, the Glock out and in her hand now that she was on firmer footing and off of those treacherous rocks.
She’d hoped the source of the smoke might be close, but it kept leading her on, down the drainage until she came to the head of a small mountain stream. She wondered if she should turn back, not wanting to leave Jonathan for so long, but what if there was help just a little farther? She had to find out, and so her curiosity took her farther and farther down along the banks of the swift-flowing water until she found stumps of trees that had obviously been felled with an axe. Shauna could tell at a glance the chopping had been recent, too. The cut stumps and the wood chips scattered around them were still bright white and smelled of fresh evergreen sap. Someone had cut them in recent days, and the smoke told her they were still around. She continued quietly on until she came to an opening in the trees overlooking a small meadow farther down. A rustic log cabin stood off to one side of the open area, and not far away a barn that was quite a bit bigger than the cabin. Smoke was pouring out of the chimney, sweeping up the drainage she’d just descended on the bitter cold wind she stood facing.
Shauna hesitated for a few minutes as she studied the remote homestead, then she decided she hadn’t come all the way down here just to turn back. She had to take a chance because without help she and Jonathan might die anyway. She tucked her Glock away in her belt and walked into the meadow, calling out loudly as she went, as she didn’t want to startle whoever was inside that cabin. She was just a few steps from the front porch when the door opened slightly. A rifle barrel came out first, and then she saw the man behind it. He had an almost white beard, but if not for that, she would have placed him at about her own age.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. My nephew and I were caught on the Divide Trail up there when this storm blew in, she turned and pointed back the way she’d come. We were trying to get down off the ridge and find shelter and then he slipped and had a bad fall. He’s up there with a broken leg. I smelled the smoke from your chimney and followed it down here.”
The man stepped the rest of the way out on the porch, looking Shauna up and down and then scanning the tree line behind her. When his eyes came back to her, they focused on the pistol in her belt. “Put your weapon down and step up here then if you want to talk,” he said.
Shauna knew she was taking a big leap of faith to trust this man out here in the middle of nowhere. Once she put that pistol down, she would be at his mercy, but even if she didn’t he already had the drop on her. She had committed herself when she approached his cabin. She did as he asked, and to her relief, he lowered his rifle, leaning it against the door casing as he stepped forward to offer his hand.
“Bob Barham,” he said, as she accepted his handshake and introduced herself as well. “That ridge up there is no place to be in this weather,” Bob said. “Why don’t you go in there and warm up by the fire. There’s coffee on the stove. I’ll go saddle three of the horses. Can you ride? Can your nephew?”
“Yes!” Shauna said. She hadn’t even considered that this man might have horses. Until he mentioned it, she had no idea how they might get Jonathan down here even if he agreed to help. but horses would work! She didn’t know if Jonathan had ever even been on one before, but she would make it work if Bob was willing to do this for them. “Can the horses make it up there in this weather?”
“Oh yeah, as long as we don’t wait to get going. It’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better, but we’ve got time to go get him and get back down here. We’ll have to lead them the last little bit where it gets steep, but if we can get him mounted he can ride all the way down. Is it a bad break?”
Shauna assured him that it was. He needed to go a hospital, but she didn’t see a vehicle parked on the place and didn’t know if that was even possible. When Bob left for the barn, she looked around the interior of the small cabin and it was clear to her that Bob lived there alone. It was also clear that he had a fascination with all things pertaining to the frontier West, just as the outside of the cabin had suggested at first sight. The walls were hung with mountain man and Native American art and collectibles, including antique flintlock rifles, bows and arrows and other weapons. While there wasn’t a woman’s touch in evidence anywhere in the decor, there were several photos of a pretty woman about Bob’s age that suggested he’d had a wife once and was possibly a widower now. Shauna knew she’d made the right choice to take a chance here and had an intuitive feeling she could trust this man. Before he’d left her to go to the barn, Bob had picked up her pistol from the snow where she’d set it down, wiping it dry before handing it back to her. He believed her story too and he genuinely wanted to help, and she supposed it was because he was living so remotely out here. Although there was a rough, unpaved road leading to the cabin from somewhere, there wasn’t a vehicle in sight and it appeared he was living here without the convenience of one. From looking around inside the cabin, she was sure that’s how he wanted it, and maybe because of that, he’d avoided the nastier elements of society that she’d unfortunately had so much experience with already.
“Help yourself to those biscuits too,” Bob said when he returned to the cabin and uncovered a pan with several fresh ones in it. “Have you two been eating? Are you carrying supplies?”
“We have MREs. That’s about it, though.”
“That’s not food! When we get your nephew back down here I’ll feed you both properly. You can tell me how you came across the MREs and the rest of your story on the ride up there. Are you ready to go?”
Shauna grabbed two of the biscuits and followed him out. The horses were hitched to the porch rail, seemingly unperturbed by the snow and cold. She didn’t have to tell Bob how to get up there. He used that route up the drainage to reach the Divide Trail quite frequently. Shauna called out Jonathan’s name when they drew close, just so he wouldn’t be startled by the sight of the three horses and start shooting at them with that little .380. Getting him up the saddle was an effort, and he screamed in pain when Bob accidentally bumped his leg, but they soon got him down the mountain and into the warmth of Bob’s cabin.
“It’s a long way to any place we might find a doctor son, even if it weren’t for this weather. If you want that leg to heal to where you can walk again, you’re going to have to be tough and let us set it back in place. It’s not as bad as it looks, but you can’t leave it like that.”
“Is it gonna hurt more than it does now?” Jonathan asked.
“Yep, but the worst of it won’t be but a few seconds. You can drink all the Jack Daniels you want before we start. It’ll help.”
“I feel like I’ve gone back in time,” Jonathan muttered. “Am I living in a Western movie now or what?”
“It’s going to be okay, Jonathan,”
Shauna said. “We’re really lucky that we found help so close to the trail. Bob told me he was a medic in the Army at one time. He knows what he’s doing.”
“I wasn’t in long,” Bob said. “And I wasn’t much older than you when I was, but she’s right. I got all the medic training even though I never shipped overseas or anything like that. I might have forgotten most of it, but it’ll come back to me,” he grinned, taking a swig of the whiskey himself. “We’ll get you fixed up so that leg will heal and then you two can be on your way as soon as you feel up to it.”
* * *
More than a week passed after the day Jonathan broke his leg and Shauna was starting to feel trapped again, cooped up as she was in Bob’s little cabin, still worried about Megan, her plans to reach that ranch thwarted by the kid’s accident. There was no telling when Jonathan would be able to hike again, but after all that waiting, Bob agreed to leave him there and to take Shauna to that ranch to see if they could find Megan. Bob said the trail they’d been on was indeed the shortest route, and that they could get there on horseback. When they left, they took an extra saddle horse for Megan to ride back on if they found her. They had only been on the trail a couple of hours and Shauna was bursting with excitement at the prospect of seeing her daughter when she was suddenly startled by a voice calling her name from seemingly out of nowhere. At first, she thought she was simply hearing things, but when she saw how it startled the horses and caused Bob to reach for the rifle in his scabbard, she knew it wasn’t just her imagination.
“Shauna! It’s me, Eric!”
The Divide Page 17
