Dust And Dreams (The Rivers Brothers Book 1)

by Lynn Landes

  “My plan was to get to San Francisco, board a train and disappear. I thought I escaped them all, but Eustace survived. His son Aiden is after me, determined to reclaim the mine, he doesn't know that it's too late for that.” Cassie smirks.

  Dalton pulls her back to the fireplace to sit. “How is it too late?” Harris asks.

  “I sold the mine,” she replies, suddenly feeling nauseous Cassie excuses herself. “I need a minute,” and she moves quickly away to get a drink of water from the kitchen.

  Dalton waits for her to leave, then he tells them the story of how they met. Everyone sits in shock for a moment when he explains the rest. He describes how she saved his life using her gift, and how she paid for his share of the railroad. No one moves as he tells them how he has witnessed her gentle, giving nature as she gifted those they met along the road and finally he explains how much he loves her.

  “She saved my life four times at least, I am sorry about the danger you're all in, but I need your help to protect my wife,” Dalton states.

  “So, what you’re telling us is that you married a rich, mind reading witch who likes to blow things up! Dang it, how’d you get so lucky!” Pierce quips and the boys laugh.

  “We are with you, Dalton,” his father exclaims.

  Cassie walks back into the great room just as Grandma Jenny declares, “It’s time for pie.”

  Together the women serve pie and coffee, then sit to enjoy it together. Cassie is too nervous to eat, and her stomach is quivering from the stress. “I take it Dalton told you about my ability. Doesn't it bother you?” she wonders.

  Grandma Jennie smiles, “Now Cassie, we have to trust that Dalton made the right choice and that you have enough good manners to not intrude on our private thoughts. God has gifted each of us in our own way.”

  “This gift of yours is more like a burden isn't it,” Harris wonders. “The human brain is uncharted territory and who is to say that we're not all capable of more than we know. The moral predicament comes into play though when you think about how do you choose? When do you speak and when do you hold back? Is it your place to save the world? I think not.”

  “I agree with you,” Hannah replies. “It’s not for us to decide who should live or die, but you have saved my son's life, and for that, I am eternally grateful. We will not divulge your secret Cassie. You are safe with us.”

  “Thank you. It is a burden, but I am able to block images and thoughts, though large groups of people are difficult,” she explains cautiously not sure how much to tell them.

  “We need to discuss the plan,” Dane demands sipping on his coffee.

  “My thought is that he will come from Brigham City. Eustace will need to either hire help, or he will bring help with him,” Dalton explains.

  Cassie listens quietly, “There is a way to know for sure, Dalton?” she reminds him.

  “It doesn't matter, Cassie. We will just have to cut them off before they reach the ranch. The only thing that matters is that, for them, it is a one-way trip. They may enter our land, but they will not leave it alive,” Dalton promises, and everyone agrees.

  “Tomorrow, I will visit the Shoshone and warn them of the coming fight,” Chase announces. Grandma Jennie says goodnight and Hannah helps put her and the baby Violet to bed. Cassie and Dalton return to the cabin after agreeing to go meet with the Indians in the morning.

  Dane turns to Chase after they leave and says, “Dalton says they are three to four days behind them. That gives us time to prepare…

  Chase interrupts, “You can’t prepare for crazy. Dad if he hires guns in Brigham, which is the only reason he would go there, we have to be ready for war.”

  Chapter 34

  Solomon sighs and checks his guns before entering No Name Saloon. He doesn't bother to clean the dust off, he heard of the killing of a young girl and figured that it was Aiden. He leaves a trail of death and destruction behind him in every town he visits. Disgust fills his mind at the memory of the young Asian girl he sliced to ribbons in San Francisco.

  At the bar, he orders a whiskey and turns to watch the dancing girls. If he has learned anything following this sick bastard, it's that the men don't talk, but the girls will, for a price. His eyes take in the scene and the girls hanging over the banister baring the white of their breasts for all to see, and he's forced to hide his distaste.

  He shoots the whiskey and orders another, before walking determinedly to the stairway. Two men step in front of him and delay his progress. “What’s the hurry, boy? Pants on fire?” The older man questions and his friend laughs loudly.

  Solomon's hand lashes out punching the older man in his windpipe, and before the young man can move, he tosses his whiskey in the boy's face and breaks his nose.

  The girls back away from the railing in fear when the large dirty cowboy reaches the landing. He looks them over and chooses the black-haired girl in a purple corset. “You. How much for all night?”

  The Madame calls out a price and then offers him a two for the price of one deal. “No. Just her.” Solomon pays for the girl and says, “Lead the way.”

  She looks at the other girls and licks her painted pink lips before whispering, “Right this way, then.” The girl's long black hair is tied up in curls around her painted face, and her white skin is powdered to cover bruises that he can faintly see.

  “What’s your name?” he asks.

  “You can call me whatever you want, sugar,” she says with a forced laugh and leads the way down a hall into the back of the saloon. The whore house is attached to the saloon by a door, and she quickly moves through the door and up a wooden stairway leading to her room.

  “Sugar it is, then.” When she moves to open the door, he stops her.

  “Allow me.” Pistol ready, he does a scan of the room and checks the window, noting they are in the back away from the noise of the street.

  “Very good,” he says, and she slowly closes the door. When she starts to unlace her corset, his mouth goes dry.

  “No!” He holds up his hands. “I need a different kind of service from you.” Relief flashes across her face, and she moves to her dressing table and pulls out a cigarette offering him one.

  “Then why are you here?” Inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes for a moment and savors the taste.

  Solomon watches her and sits heavily on the side of her bed. “I need information. A few nights ago, a couple of girls were murdered here. I need to know what happened.”

  Sugar laughs and says, “Why do you care? No one in this hell whole gave a damn, why should a stranger?” Angrily, she puts her cigarette out and snarls at him. “Mel was a good girl, she didn’t deserve what she got!”

  “Agreed. I'm after the bastard who killed her. He's left a trail of blood and bodies behind him, and from what I can tell, she was lucky he didn't get her alone. He is an opportunistic murderer. He kills men, women, and children without discrimination, though he usually likes to torture the victims for hours, if not days before he kills them. You tell me what I need to know, and I will make sure he never kills another person.”

  Sugar stares into his eyes for a minute and nods her head as though finding what she needs. “He was the same as any of these pigs, he came in ordered a drink, like you, and came upstairs. Except when he got upstairs, he chose Mel, they get handsy for a minute by the railing and then with no warning, he picks her up and tosses her down onto the stage. The other one they found cuts to pieces and tied to a bed. I didn’t know her.” Sugar kicks off her heels and releases her corset. Solomon watches her hands and turns away while she strips.

  He sees her purple corset hit the bed beside him and his mouth goes dry.

  “Don't worry, I won't attack you, those damn things are tight. Okay, you can turn around now.” She is in a silk robe and has taken her hair down. She looks to be about seventeen, and Solomon can't help but pity her.

  “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t need your pity. I almost have enough to get out of here. What else do you n
eed to know?” she demands.

  “What happened after he killed her?” He watches as she removes her makeup with a rag dipped in water.

  “He held court like he was some kind of king. Offering gold for guns. He hired a gang called the Bloody Bill Gang, and they left two days later.” Her hand stills in the mirror, and she looks at him, “That gang is the worst of the worst. Bloody Bill was named that because he killed thirty-two Union soldiers with his brother before they even realized he'd done it. The others are train robbers and murderers.” She whirls around in her seat to look at him.

  Solomon smiles at her. Without her makeup and clothes, she looks like a normal teenager. “You are way too smart and pretty to be stuck here. That's exactly what I needed to know.” When he starts to stand, she pushes him back on the bed.

  “Oh, no you don't. You're going to stay here for a few hours until I can safely let you go. I don't want to go back to work, and if they think I disappointed you, I will get in trouble. Stay with me, I will make it worth your while.” She whispers and slips a hand down his chest to his belt buckle.

  Solomon grabs her hands, gently, “I 'm not interested, Sugar. But I could use a meal and some sleep,” she moves away with a laugh.

  “God, me too. What do you want to eat?” An hour later she orders a hot bath for him and fresh food. No questions are asked, some of the patrons pay extra for “specials.” She stretches a screen around the tub for him and gets coffee and food ready while he strips and scrubs.

  Weeks on his trail wash away, and for a moment he thinks of Faith. Did she arrive safely in Texas? How is baby Hope doing? Did they all believe that he died from the explosion? They will forgive him, but while he is on the trail, it's best if no one knows he's alive. He sighs deeply and stands to rinse off.

  “That’s a deep sigh, cowboy. Missing someone special?” Sugar asks while she snacks on the food.

  “Yep. My girls are waiting for me.” He towels dry and to his surprise finds she has dropped his clothes outside the door to be laundered. “We have the best cleaner in town. Don't worry, they'll be back in a few hours.” She tosses him a robe and smiles. “Courtesy of the house.” A navy blue, cloth robe.

  Solomon grins and sits to eat at a small table next to the window. Famished he eats and looks at her. “How much are you short?”

  “What?” Hope fills her brown eyes, and she says, “Fifty dollars.”

  “Are you headed some place special, or will it be another whore house?” he asks.

  “I am going home if they will have me.” She whispers and drops her head.

  “Ah, Sugar it’s never too late to go home.” He grabs his wallet and pulls out the cash. “Fifty to travel on and fifty to use for food. Leave in the morning. I will help you pack tonight.”

  “Why? I’m just a whore. Why are you helping me?” she gasps.

  “Because of you, no one else will die at this sick bastard's hand. You remember that when you're feeling sorry for yourself. I am going to hunt him down and wipe him from memory.” Solomon declares.

  “This woman you are so faithful to is very lucky.” She leaps up and throws her arms around him hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” she kisses his cheek and jumps up to grab her bags.

  As quick as she can, she starts stuffing clothes into a bag, and he moves to help her. “No, you sleep. I will make sure your clothes are ready for you.” Solomon smiles and does as she suggests, he sleeps.

  The night passes quickly, and he wakes to find her gone. His clothes are waiting, and a note rests on his pillow. “Gone home to Boston! Thank you for my freedom,” Love Jane.

  Solomon dresses and straps on his pistols before getting back on the trail. He needs to send a telegram to the River's Ranch, and then find this bastard. Hopefully, he will catch him before he kills anyone else.

  Cole adjusts his binoculars and swears under his breath in a misty puff of air. From his vantage point on the crest of the hill, he can make out ten Cheyenne warriors, armed and making camp next to a river for the night. Time to warn the others. It will only be a matter of time before they run across them.

  He quietly retreats and returns to camp. He kicks his horse into a run and plows into the camp. When he leaps from his horse and kicks dirt over the fire, he hears a collected cry of outrage.

  “What the hell, Cole!” Frank yells at him.

  “There is a band of Cheyenne warriors camping over the next ridge, you damn fools!” Cole points.

  “How many?” Aiden inquires without putting his cup down.

  “Ten warriors, all heavily armed. If they hear or see us…?”

  “Then what, Cole? That's what you are paid for to scout ahead and warn us. You have done that. Now it's time for me to do my job,” Billy explains with an evil smile.

  Aiden grins in response. “Yes, I would love to see you all in action. Just exactly what is my money getting me?”

  About two hours later the six men have circled the camp. Over the noise of the rushing river, not much will be heard of the advance, but the men still move slowly. A fire is lit, illuminating the camp with its golden glow and allowing them to watch two of the youngest Cheyenne go to check the horses.

  Darkness has descended, but the Indians know to tie the horses together so they will not run off. One feeds them, while the other brushes the palomino beauties. They toss their heads and the one brushing them, grumbles at the antsy movements of the horses.

  Cole and Frank move in silence, trained by years of working for whoever pays the highest. Waiting patiently, they inch forward until the unknowing targets are within reach. Quick as snakes they move simultaneously grabbing the young warriors from behind, their arms wrapped up around their heads. They jerk back on the surprised Indians heads exposing their necks, slicing across the throats in a spray of blood. Just as quickly they snap their heads forward to block the gasping airways, so no sound escapes. Death comes silently to the first two Indians. The bodies are placed gently on the ground, and they move away as quietly as they arrived.

  The horses smell the strange metallic scent of death and snort and blow, pulling against the reigns holding them. Cole slices the ropes holding the animals in place and smacks one on the rump.

  Drawn by the noise of the animals one of the Indians is walking towards them when they gallop towards him. He shouts a warning and leaps out of the way before joining his brothers. Chaos ensues as the remaining Indians scatter trying to catch their mounts.

  Bob is camouflaged in the brush, waiting for just the right moment to attack, when one of the warriors chases his mount directly at him. He smiles and moves in.

  Running out of the way of the horses nearing the pen, another warrior discovers the two bodies. His yell of outrage fills the night, and instantly the Indians form a circle back to back, weapons ready, they wait to search for the unseen enemy in the flickering firelight.

  Bows raised and rifles ready they watch as one of their brothers stumbles towards them. They stare, unable to believe what they are seeing. His hands are tied behind his back, and something is sticking out of his mouth.

  Terrified, he runs toward the group gagging and gurgling, and that's when they notice the lit fuse. It leads from his mouth and dangles over his shoulder. A trail of smoke and hissing sounds follow him, and he screams in the back of his throat.

  Arrows fly towards him, but it is too late. The trail of death is true, and the dynamite stuffed into his throat ignites, killing the three closest Indians and flattening the rest to the ground. A mist of blood, dust, and body parts are all over the four remaining warriors. Scrambling up they scatter, running for their horses each hoping to escape through the river.

  Aiden laughs from his vantage point above the camp, and it echoes in the night.

  The horses plunge into the raging river, and they desperately strain trying to reach the bank on the other side. Frank shoots two of the Indians dead, their limp bodies fall from the horses and disappear into the night floating on the current of the river. The othe
r two leap off the horses and try to swim downstream away from the death chasing them.

  Cole and John rope them like cattle and drag the screaming bodies from the water. John and Frank hit them with the butt of their rifles knocking them out cold.

  “Impressive. Take whatever you want, but I get one of them alive.” Aiden says grinning at Bill. He watches as Bill chooses his prize. The two surviving Indians are young warriors. One is already waking and struggling to escape. “Here Frank, I will take the other one!”

  Frank whips his knife out and orders Cole and John to hold him down. His blade is sharp as he begins scalping the screaming Indian. Blood runs down his face, and Frank takes his time sliding the knife through the tough skin, enjoying the screams of agony.

  “How do you like it, boy?” He sneers into the blood pooled ear.

  Bill drags the unconscious Indian to the river and sticks his face in the water to waken him. He wants him alive for the rest of the night's fun. The men tie him to a tree with his arms behind him, and even his head is tied back so he will be forced to watch.

  Aiden observes the gang work. You can learn a lot about someone by the way they kill. He lights a cigarette and kicks a dismembered and blackened leg away from him as he chooses a log to sit on.

  John drags each warrior’s body over to the tied-up prisoner and scalps them, even the decapitated head of one. “This is difficult, the damn thing is slippery from all the blood.”

  Cole laughs and begins carving a stick with a spiked tip to spear it on. “See, just like a cherry tomato!” He says forcing the head down onto the tip with a crunching sound.

  The boys all laugh and watch as John continues with his fun. He stacks them up, scalp on top of scalp until he starts to count.

  “Eight, one is missing!” Frank starts to search with the others for the missing Indian. One warrior that was shot in the river.

  “Track him, Cole, and bring him back!” Bill yells.

  The man tied to the tree puts all of his hatred into his stare, and he locks eyes with Bill.