Yellowstone Awakening (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 3)
Page 31
Protecting the natural hot water features, and the abundant wildlife in this area proved to be a daunting task. Kyle had his hands full establishing and enforcing rules for visitors. The government set aside very little funds for law enforcement in the park. Josh had readily agreed to oversee the protection of game. Poachers in the park became more numerous every year. The vast numbers of elk and bison were easy targets, as were the bears and wolves. Hundreds, if not thousands, of animals were needlessly slaughtered for their hides and antlers, leaving the meat to rot. Without the means for proper enforcement, there was nothing to stop the poachers. Kyle’s hands had been tied. Until he received approval for a game keeper, all he’d been able to do was confiscate the hides, and tell the poachers to leave the area.
Josh hadn’t been so kind. Since his appointment this past summer, word obviously had spread that anyone caught with hides or antlers would be escorted to Cooke City for prosecution. If they resisted arrest, Josh was quick with his rifle. Those poachers who remained to take their chances were obviously willing to kill for their profits, as the men Josh had been following proved.
Josh reined his horse to a stop atop a rise leading to a shallow valley below. The sagebrush swayed in the wind, and Josh scanned the distance. The timberline several miles up ahead would provide some shelter. He hated to end his pursuit, but he needed to tend to his wounds. Glancing back at the ground, his quarry’s tracks suddenly scattered, and the hoof prints indicated that the horses had been driven into a fast gallop.
Josh scanned the valley again, shielding his eyes with his hand against the wind. His hair whipped around his face. Countless black dots billowed in the wind about a mile away, and he squinted. Ravens fluttered about, even in this weather, announcing the death of some animal.
“Damn.” He nudged his horse down the slope into the valley. What damage had those unscrupulous bastards managed this time? His stomach twisted into a tight knot as he drew closer to the site of the raven congregation. With a sinking feeling, he kicked his horse into a gallop, ignoring the heated pain in his shoulder and side.
His jaw clenched tightly when he pulled his horse to a stop moments later. He counted six bodies lying about amongst the sage. Josh threw his right leg over his horse’s neck and leapt off its back, landing lightly on his moccasin-clad right foot to absorb the impact. He quickly limped to the first body on the ground and knelt beside it. An elderly man lay frozen in death. His eyes were closed, and his hands rested on his chest as if he were sleeping peacefully. Judging by the pallor of the man’s skin, he had died no more than several hours ago.
Josh examined each body in turn. The family group consisted of the old man and woman, a young man, and three small children. His forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. These people had been carefully tended to after their death. Judging by the hoof prints on the ground, their killers had descended on the party quickly and mercilessly. They hadn’t stopped to even plunder the bodies of any belongings, simply killed for apparent sport.
Someone else must have posed these people after the killers left. Josh swept the area. There had to have been at least one survivor. Faint small footprints that the wind hadn’t obscured led away from the massacre site, in the opposite direction as the men he pursued. Josh weighed his options. He could continue his pursuit of the outlaws, or he could follow the surviving member of this family, and get more information about the killers. The person could tell him exactly what he would be up against. And, he reasoned, he needed to tend to his wounds. In his present condition, he might not be able to apprehend these men, who had proven twice today that they held human life in low regard.
Wisely, the person who survived was heading for the timberline, no doubt to seek shelter from the weather. His mind made up, Josh vaulted onto the back of his horse, groaning at the pain in his side. He hung off the gelding’s left side for a moment to catch his breath, then followed the faint trail of the lone survivor toward the forest. There was nothing he could do at the moment for the poor souls who had met an untimely and senseless death here.
His horse covered the few miles to the timberline in very little time. Snow flurries descended all around him, their intensity increasing by the minute. Dismounting and remounting his horse earlier had re-ignited the pain from his wounds. It would be good to finally stop and rest. The person he’d been following couldn’t be much further up ahead. The footprints had started out with long strides, but as the distance covered increased, Josh could tell the person had slowed down, the prints closer together, indicating a shortening in stride. Was he or she injured? He’d soon find out.
A line of young lodgepoles loomed up ahead, and Josh knew he’d found the individual he sought. The prints led directly to the trees. All other lodgepoles at the periphery of the forest were too tall and ancient to offer any kind of shelter. These younger ones, with their dense branches low to the ground could offer a person sanctuary much like a small cave. He reined his horse to a stop when he reached the trees, and eyed the bundle of firewood on the ground. He dismounted carefully, and pulled his blanket and rifle from the horse’s back. He removed the animal’s bridle, and hobbled the gelding’s front legs together, giving him enough line to find his own shelter, but not enough to run off.
“Hello,” Josh called out in Shoshone. “I am a friend. You have nothing to fear.” He stood before the tree he suspected concealed the one he’d been following, and waited. The crunching sound of dry nettles from beneath the branches reached his ears. He knelt to the ground. Several branches parted, and he hardened his face in surprise. The person staring out from beneath the natural shelter was the last thing he expected. A woman’s ghostly pale face emerged, her emerald green eyes staring at him. Long wavy strands of golden hair whipped around her face. Her eyes held no hint of fear, only a fierce determination. The shiny glint of a knife drew his attention downward to her hand. His eyes darted to the weapon, then back to the woman’s face. In the deep recessed of his mind, she looked vaguely familiar. He frowned, trying to recall where he’d seen her before. Perhaps she merely reminded him of his cousin Kyle’s wife, Katelyn.
The woman studied him wordlessly, then her eyes grew wide.
“Josh…Josh Osborne?”
Josh couldn’t have been more surprised at the words she uttered than if the earth had suddenly swallowed him up.