“Don’t make no difference to Norton. You got his money and he wants it back. Easier to kill you to get it than any other way. Norton don’t like losing. Mind yourselves. Now I got to get some sleep. If you want more whiskey, leave the money on the bar.” Jack, the hated Jack, was gone. They were still inside.
“Norton doesn’t scare me, Eban, but I’ll grant he’s a menace. Maybe it’s time we moved on. Even if we don’t find a rich gold strike, we can find someone to play cards with who has better manners than Norton. Maybe we should go towards the new saw mill at Coloma. What do you think?”
“If we stay here, we’ll kill Norton or he’ll kill us. We saw enough killing in the war. If it’s Coloma you want, then Coloma it is. We can leave tomorrow. You agree?”
They planned on leaving. She clutched her hands in front of her face. Please, take me with you!
“Yeah, it’s better than having to kill a man.”
No! Kill Norton before he kills you! Oh Lord, did she really want a man she didn’t know to kill another man? But how else would she be able to flee? Jack would send Norton after her. Norton would kill the tall one. He would kill her.
Wait, it was quiet inside. Had they gone? She slid closer to the canvas. A twig snapped. She froze.
Joshua poured the last of Norton’s bottle into glasses and they drank in agreement. Across the valley, the haunting cry of an owl rang low, soon answered by its mate from far up the hillside to the north. The two men sat in silence, sipping whiskey and listening to the mournful conversation.
Joshua’s senses tingled. A sound, a twig snapping, had come from the far side of the canvas wall. He grabbed Eban’s arm with one hand and put his finger to his lips. He nodded to the rear of the tent. Someone was outside. Was it Norton?
He got up, silently crept through the tent flap, and headed to the rear. He moved slowly along the dark side of the round tent. His only cover was the shadows. If it was Norton, and he had a gun, Joshua would be vulnerable if he were seen first.
At the rear of the tent he stopped. Someone was crouched in the shadows close to the canvas wall. He was near enough now. He put his pistol away and charged.
The intruder rose and began to run. Joshua lunged, and the two tumbled to the ground, rolling over each other like boys in a schoolyard-wrestling match. Joshua came out on top. The eavesdropper struggled beneath him, but Joshua had little trouble holding his own. He heard footsteps.
“You all right, Josh?” It was Eban.
“Yeah. But this isn’t Norton.”
“Norton! Dang, that’s the Injun gal.”
Her eyes glowed like a cat in the dark. “Get off of me, you brute,” she hissed.
The Indian girl spoke excellent English. Rufus Ward had warned him of her talent for the language. Joshua wanted answers. He pressed her. “Who are you? Why were you spying on us? What do you want?”
She twisted. “Let me go!” Joshua tightened his grip.
Eban walked closer. “Take it easy, honey. We won’t hurt you none. Will you tell us why you was listening in on us from back here?”
“Get off me, you monster!”
Eban leaned over to get a better look. “So this is Jack’s Injun woman. I’ll be danged!”
Someone rounded the tent carrying a lantern. “What’s going on here?” The commotion had alerted Jack.
Eban turned to cut off the scar-faced barkeep. “This your woman?”
Jack stopped. “Yeah, that’s her. What’d that ugly squaw do now?”
“Joshua heard her moving around and thought she was Norton. He snuck out here and jumped her.”
Jack set the lantern on a stump. The light illuminated the woman’s face. She had a strong jaw and a pretty nose, but her hair was loaded with grease, matted and dirty.
She stopped struggling, terror in her face. Her gaze locked on his. Joshua stared into her deep, green eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek, a trail of white skin in its wake. He got up, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet.
Jack yanked her around sharply. “You slut! I’ll fix you!” His voice was cold and full of threat. He slapped her hard on the face and again with the back of his hand.
The woman thrust her knee square between Jack’s legs. He yelped, let go his grip on her arm, and slumped to his knees. She fled into the darkness. No one pursued her.
Eban looked down on the ailing barkeep. “That Injun gal’s got a lot a spunk, Jack. You all right?”
Jack rolled on the ground and moaned, holding his groin with both hands in a vain attempt to ease the pain. That pain would soon fade, but not the pain of the humiliation he had suffered in front of others. The woman was in for trouble. Jack was not a man to let this pass.
Eban spit. “Well, I reckon you’ll live, Jack.” Disgust dripped from his voice.
“Get the hell out of here.” Jack’s rage was clear.
Joshua turned away. “Let’s go, Eban.” As they followed the stream toward their camp the owls resumed their long distance conversation. Their haunting calls brought a sense of tranquility back into the night.
Joshua’s mind was locked on the woman. “Eban, she speaks English. She’s got green eyes. She’s no Indian. I don’t understand. What’s going on? Why is she dressed like a squaw?”
Eban put his hand on Joshua’s shoulder. “I think you’re right. She ain’t no Injun. This smells worse than the outhouse at a Fourth of July picnic.”
“Yeah this stinks. That woman is no squaw. She’s a white woman and she isn’t here of her free will. That barkeep is mad. He’ll kill her. We have to do something.”
“Ain’t much we can do about it. Jack’s liable to beat her to death once he finds her. Norton’s our problem. You got your mind on her, and he’ll slip up and slit your throat. You keep your wits about you. We’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
Joshua pounded a tight fist into his palm. “We can’t sit by and let Jack kill her.”
“Yeah, well, come sunup well see what we can do. Let’s try to get some rest.”
Joshua jerked awake in a sweat. Dawn’s first light shone blood red above the hills. He rolled onto his stomach, grabbed the Colt and cocked it.
“Easy, Josh. Ain’t nobody here.” It was Eban.
“Oh, Lord.” He wiped his brow. The smell of fresh coffee told him Eban had been up for a while.
“You had that dream again. San Pasqual?” Eban poured a cup of the coffee.
“Yeah, San Pasqual. But somehow it was worse this time.”
“You got to let it go, Josh. It was war. Things happen.”
Joshua rubbed his forehead. “I know. I know. I just don’t seem to be able to.”
“Here, have some coffee and beans.”
He put in the Colt away, sat on a log, and began to eat. “The Mexican lancer, he turned into Jack. That’s when I woke up.”
“Jack? I’d have thought you’d have dreamed about Norton.”
Joshua looked toward the hill to the north. “She’s up there somewhere, Eban. I know it. I’m going up there.”
“You’re just asking for more trouble. Best we beat it out of here.”
“I can’t let Jack hurt her anymore. I’ve got to find her.”
Eban looked at him hard. “She can’t mean anything to you. There ain’t no proper ladies out here, you know.”
What Eban said made sense, but it didn’t matter. He guzzled the rest of the coffee.
“But since you got your mind set on it, I’ll start packing the gear.”
“Thanks, Eban.” He put the half-eaten beans down and strapped on the Colt. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
On the hillside he picked his way through tall stands of yellow pine and Douglas fir until he came to one of the open scars left by the loggers. Midway up the western edge of the clearing he could see a small hut. He heard voices, the yell of a man, the shriek of a woman. He pushed on.
As he neared the hut he could see them. Jack had the woman on her knees against a fir tree and held her hair with his left
hand. He slapped her hard with the back of his right. Joshua pulled the Colt. Then, from brush behind the cabin, he noticed the muzzle of a rifle. Someone else was here. Was it a friend or a foe? The gun was aimed at Jack. He had to take a chance.
“That’s enough, Jack. Let the woman go.” He held his Colt leveled at the bartender’s backside. The rifle muzzle slid back into the brush.
Jack turned. He glowered at Joshua. The scar on his cheek twitched. “This ain’t none of your business, soldier boy. Get out of here.”
“I just made it my business, Jack. Let her go.”
Jack snarled, his face contorted with rage. “You ain’t got the guts to shoot. You didn’t have the guts to shoot Norton last night. Get out of my face.”
“Maybe you’re right, Jack. Are you willing to risk your life to find out? Let her go. Now!”
Jack’s hand coiled around the handle of the pistol stuck in his waistband. Joshua cocked the Colt.
Jack paused, then spit. “You’re a dead man. I’ll get you, if Norton don’t beat me to it.” He turned to the woman. “And you, you little slut, don’t get no funny ideas or I’ll make you sorry you was ever born. And you know I can.” Jack stormed down the hill. Joshua’s eyes followed him until he disappeared among the conifers, then he walked behind the hut and checked the brush for the rifleman. No one was there.
The woman had slumped to the ground by the fir tree. “Are you all right, ma’am?” She didn’t answer. He knelt beside her and put his hand on her shoulder.
She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”
He saw the fear that filled her eyes. “I best get you down to the camp and have Eban look at your face. Do you think you can walk?”
“Leave me alone. I can take care of myself.”
“It looks like you haven’t been doing a real good job of that, ma’am. I’m not going to hurt you, and Eban has something that will make you feel some better. If you stay here, Jack will come back to finish what he started. Is that what you want?”
She tensed, her arms clutched across her chest. “No . . . no. Maybe you’re right. I’ll go, but don’t you touch me.” Her voice rose noticeably on the last few words.
“I just want to help, ma’am. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
She followed him down the hill. Neither spoke as they picked their way through the debris from the logging operation. Her mind tumbled. She was in deep trouble. Could this tall man from the army be worse than Jack? He was strong and handsome. Yet at the tent he attacked her, but then he had helped her to her feet like a gentleman. It was unsettling, unnerving. She had never met a man like this.
As she left the trees she could see the older one gathering gear. The tall one whistled and he looked up. “Something happened up there, didn’t it?” The old one said.
“Jack beat her some. I scared him off, but he’ll be back, probably with Norton. There was a rifle sticking out from the brush behind her cabin. Whoever held it slipped off while I dealt with Jack.”
A rifle! It had to be Cherokee Bill. Why was he here? Why now? He would go to Jack. She was sure. She stopped some ten feet away from the camp and glanced over her shoulder. She wanted to run, to hide from everything, from everyone.
“Could you take a look at her face, Eban? Jack cut it some.”
“That rotten son of a dog.” The old one looked at her and smiled. “Welcome, ma’am. I’m Eban Snyder, and the tall feller you’re with is Joshua Stone. We’re real pleased to meet you.”
She didn’t answer. Instead she looked back to the forest. Bill was there, watching, waiting. She was trapped, alone and scared.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one will hurt you here. Why don’t you come over and let me look at that cut on your face. I’ll be as gentle as I can.” It was the old one again. He sounded nice, like he cared. That made it harder for her.
Still she snapped at him, “Leave me alone! Jack will kill you if you help me. I’ll be all right.”
Her cattiness didn’t bother him at all. He smiled at her. “We’re in as much trouble as we can get into, what with Norton and Jack both after us. Doing a little doctoring on you can’t add much to it. I got a fresh pot of coffee. How about I get you a cup?”
“Coffee? Coffee would be nice, but what if Jack comes?” How long had it been since anyone offered her coffee? How long had it been since anyone offered her anything, anything except pain?
“We can bother about Jack when it’s time. Here, sit down on the log.” She sat and he gave her the cup he had just filled.
Cradling the hot tin cup in both hands, she stared at the ground, wrapped in her misgivings. Eban seemed nice, but the tall one, Joshua, scared her. Then she remembered her manners and looked up. “Thank you, Eban.”
The tall one sat down across from her. He was edgy, anxious. “What’s your name, ma’am? Why are you dressed like an Indian? Why were you listening to us from behind the tent?”
She recoiled. He pushed her too hard. Fear twisted in her stomach.
“Hold on there, Josh. The lady’s a guest here. It ain’t good manners to question her like she’s a horse thief. Remember what your mama taught you, and let’s make her feel welcome.” He gave her another warm smile. “Don’t mind Joshua none, ma’am. He’s real glad you’re with us too, but you got him a bit out of sorts. But I’d be real pleased if you’d tell us your name.”
She took a sip of coffee and glowered at the tall one. What did he want from her? Why had he come after her this morning? He ran Jack off. She should be grateful. But last night he had jumped her. She had to know. “You! What were you going to do to me last night? Are you just like Jack? Do you want to beat me too?”
“Wait a minute now. I didn’t know who you were. I thought you might be Norton. It was dark, remember? I’m sorry about it, but you shouldn’t have been spying on us. Look, I don’t want to hurt you any more than Eban does. In fact, I’d like to help you if I can. Lord knows it looks like you could use some help.”
She rolled the cup between her palms. Her face twisted as she gnawed on her lower lip. She looked down at the coffee and squeezed the cup tightly with both hands. He was right. She needed help. She needed help desperately.
“Maggie, Maggie Magee.” She looked up to Eban. “That’s my name.” A deep gasp and she turned to the tall one. “Please, please take me with you.”
“Maggie, that’s a real pretty name.” The tall one smiled. He had a strong, gentle smile. It confused her. “Eban, are we ready to go?”
“I’m pretty much set. We got your gear and the mining stuff. It’s going to be hard on the horses. She’ll have to ride double.”
“We’ll leave everything but some food and the sleeping gear. That should lighten the load, but the only way out of this valley goes past the saloon. You worked here before the war. Is there another way out?”
Eban scratched his jaw. “Come to think of it, there’s a game trail across the top of the hill yonder. It comes out about where we met Rufus Ward. We might be able to sneak out that way.”
“All right. You take Maggie and ride out over the hill. I’ll stay here, get my gear together and meet you at Rufus Ward’s campsite. That way, maybe Jack and Norton won’t be so hard on your trail. Then we’ll take her on to Sacramento City.”
Eban shook his head. “You going to ride right out past the saloon?”
“Yeah, I’ll have to take that chance. Maybe I’ll get lucky, but even if I don’t, it’ll give you time to get away with her.”
“No, you’re taking a big risk here. Jack’s sure to be there, and like as not Norton will be around too. Either of them sees you and you’re in for a tussle.”
“If I’m lucky, Jack will be inside and won’t see me. Hopefully Norton is passed out somewhere from all the whiskey he had. If someone spots the three of us riding up that hill and tells Jack, all he’ll have to do is ride down that trail and wait for us to come out of the woods. It’s the only road out of here. We have to take it.”
“It
’s a big chance either way, but I can see your reasoning. I just hope they ain’t around when you get there.” Eban turned to her. “Maggie, are you all right with this? Riding double is going to be hard on you, and we might be getting ourselves in more trouble than we’re in now.”
She looked from one man to another. They meant it. They were going to take her away from the loneliness, the pain and the horror. But where would they take her, and what would happen to her? She could be headed for worse. Still, she had to go with them. There was no other option. She knew what would happen if she stayed. She began to cry.
“Whoa there. Is that a yes?” She nodded, unable to speak. “Reckon it is. Josh, you got something she can wear instead of this Injun outfit? Maybe if folks see us it’ll seem like it’s you instead of her.”
“I’ll get something for her.” Joshua turned to the horses. “I expect it’ll be a bit large.”
“We’ll just have to make do. Maggie, I best look at your cuts before we leave. Is that all right with you?”
While the tall one went to his horse, Eban wiped her face with a whiskey-soaked cloth. She felt twisting in her gut. No one had cared about her, fretted over her, for far too long. Now this stranger was concerned enough to see how bad her face was hurt. Maybe these men weren’t as awful as she feared.
“That cut ain’t so bad, and without all the dirt I’ll be danged if you ain’t downright pretty.”
She looked into his eyes. He meant it. He had called her pretty. No one had called her pretty in over a year. She managed to smile. “Thank you, Eban.”
The tall one returned, a bundle of dirty clothes under his arm. She held it to her face and smelled. Instead of stale whiskey and tobacco smoke, the clothes were ripe with the scent of a man who had worked long and hard in the hot sun, the smell her husband’s clothes had once carried. Strangely, they smelled good.
He took off the blue army hat. “If you’re supposed to look like me, this will help.” He put the hat on her head then grinned. “It looks real good on you, ma’am.”
She wiped her tears away. His giving her his hat was nice, but it didn’t ease her fears that he would beat her somewhere down the road, just like Jack had done.
Hangtown Creek: A Tale of the California Gold Rush (A Tom Marsh Adventure Book 1) Page 5
