“Think your mama’s ready to start breakfast?” he asked the kids. They were timid, the pair of them, but they both nodded and looked toward their ma. “Well, go on then, go and find out. I’ll be right along.” Hand in hand, they trotted on stubby legs toward the house, and Gideon silently cussed Jed out for running off so early and leaving him alone with this. He couldn’t have waited ’til dawn to go huntin’?
Gideon followed the kids up and into the house, helped Mrs. Hennessey any way he could. After breakfast—more rabbit stew and biscuits that were damned fine—he took George with him to let Star out to graze, and together they put the chicken coop back in order. “We’ll work on the corral when Jed gets back,” Gideon promised, but the coop was beat up bad and it took them most of the morning to repair it well enough to keep foxes out. It took them long enough, in fact, that when Jed kept not showing up, Gideon walked around the property, looking for some sign of him. He’d never tried to hunt the man down before, and he realized now just how damned impossible that would be, if Jed didn’t want to be followed. There were no tracks, no boot prints he could pick out that seemed fresher than any others—nothing. If Gideon hadn’t walked with him onto this land last night, he wouldn’t be able to swear Jed had ever been here at all.
By lunchtime, he fetched Star’s bridle and swung up onto her bareback, to canter her up a grassy rise and search the valley for any sign of Jed.
Still nothing. Still no sign.
“Come on, Star,” he murmured to her as he reined her around, “let’s get back.” He didn’t think Jed would walk off and leave him here, and besides, Jed had left his pack and his blanket. But it confounded him, where Jed might’ve gotten off to.
George watched him trot back into the yard, and he seemed just as worried. “You think your Injun took off?” he asked, trying to be fierce and cold, and failing miserably.
“No, George, I don’t,” he said, trying to soothe the boy as he slid off Star and gathered her reins. He forced a grin. “Maybe he found us a deer, or something else bigger’n he is, and it’s just taking him a while to drag it back to us.”
“Maybe those raiders came up on him and killed him, and skinned his scalp off as a prize.”
Gideon felt his stomach roil at the thought. “Now, why on earth would folks do something like that?” he chided, resisting a glare. “Your daddy read you too many dime novels?”
George’s face went all soft and lonesome, and his eyes tracked back toward the copse of trees where the fresh graves lay. Gideon wanted to kick himself, but George only said, “Suppose we ought to start in on the corral fence. Since the chickens came back, I’ve been hoping some of the cows will find their way home, too.”
Just like that, Gideon watched the child become a man. He glanced toward the house where Mrs. Hennessey was out back with a washtub and the toddlers. She and her husband had been doing something right, here, something good.
And if he didn’t get a move on, George was going to have the fence fixed by himself, or his hands full of splinters. “Come on, Star,” he whispered, and trotted along beside her to the barn. His folks had always told him that the best way to cure hopelessness was with hard work, and he applied that knowledge now, showing George the finer points of putting a fence back together, and after, he took a careful look at the damage the fire had done to the barn.
“It rained last week,” George said. “Soaked the walls over here good.” He pointed toward the ground, where a mud wallow clearly showed how water had collected at this corner. “Guess that saved us the barn.”
“Good thing, too,” Gideon said as he stepped inside and took inventory of the scattered tools. If this had gone up, they’d have lost more than they could have afforded to replace. “You’ve got good tools here, things you’ll need if you and your ma decide to stay here.”
“We ain’t letting nobody run us off our land. Especially not murderers and thieves,” George said, and spat on the ground for emphasis. The words sounded repeated by rote, for all the emotion in them, and Gideon figured it was something his pa or his uncle had said before. Maybe his ma; she had that kind of grit.
“Well, then,” he said, focusing on the bright side, “it’s good you’ve got all your farming equipment here.”
“A plow ain’t no good without mules to pull it,” George sighed.
“Good thing I know where your mules went, then,” Jed said from the hole in the barn wall, scaring ten years off Gideon and making George shriek in fear and spin around.
“Damn it, Jed!” Gideon snapped, irate.
Jed just looked at them both. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have made a noise.”
“Hell, yes, you should have!” Gideon said, rubbing at his chest where his heart pounded under the bones. “You near scared the life out of the boy, here!”
“Ahh,” Jed said, mocking him, “the boy.” Jed turned toward George and inclined his head. “George, I thought Gideon was used to how I move. I did not imagine he wouldn’t know a grown man was walking up behind him.”
George glowered fiercely, red-cheeked with anger. “Don’t you go doin’ that to my ma, Injun! You hear me?” he hissed. “After them men left, I slipped up to her, and she nearly knocked my head off, I gave her such a fright.”
Jed blinked, and all the amusement slid right off his face. “I hear you, George,” he said far more sincerely. “And I am sorry. I was thinking about the cows I found.” He blinked again, and frowned. “I hope they are yours, because I brought them home.”
George’s eyes lit up, and he bolted out the hole in the barn wall, and Gideon stepped up close enough to Jed to smell him. “You snuck up on us with cows?”
A hint of his earlier humor crinkled the corners of Jed’s eyes. “I left them at the trees and walked in to make sure all was well before revealing them.”
“Well,” Gideon grumbled, rubbing at his chest again, “I guess that’s somethin’.”
He followed George out the hole, thinking they had good, solid doors on this damn barn—doors that didn’t have a leftover wallow right outside them—with Jed on his heels. “What the hell were you doing gone so long?” he asked, looking around for George and finding him at the edge of the field, leading two milk cows across the grass.
The commotion had attracted Mrs. Hennessey’s attention, and she rounded the barn at a run, carrying the rifle Gideon suspected would become a part of her in the coming months, with the two little’uns trailing well behind. “What’s all this then?” she demanded before she caught sight of George and the cows.
“Ma!” George called. “The Injun found Daisy and Rose!”
“I’ll be….” she started, then gave Jed a look of sincere gratitude. “I thought they’d be meat on somebody’s table for sure, Mister Bird.”
“My name is Jedediah,” Jed corrected her, gentle now like he was with Star. “Please call me that.”
She nodded. “Jedediah. I can’t believe you found them.”
Jed shrugged and waved a hand. “I just followed the trail. They’d been abandoned and were grazing a few miles south of here.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears, but Gideon was glad to note they looked to be the happier kind. “That means so much to me, Jedediah. We had six more, and my husband sold the butter to restaurants in Sutter Creek. I make real good cheese, and with two back….” She swallowed hard.
“You will have more back,” Jed said, with enough certainty that Gideon narrowed his eyes at the man. “I am sure that more were left along the way. Once we notify the sheriff of what has happened here so he can find those who did this, I will show him the trail. We will bring back what stock we find.”
“I—” She stopped and swallowed again. “I thank you, Jedediah.” She turned away, but Gideon could see her throat work as she swallowed, trying to regain her composure. “We’ve got lunch left over, up at the house. Come and eat when you will,” she said, and hurried off with the youngsters.
George seemed glad to be distracted with goo
d news. He fussed over the cows, digging out halters, metal pails, and a milking stool. “Poor things, they ain’t been milked in days,” he said, and set to work doing just that.
Gideon caught Jed’s eye and jerked his head, asking him to come away from the boy. Jed frowned and shook his head, setting off instead for the house. Gideon left George, curiosity eating at him, because no way in hell had it taken Jed all this time just to find two cows and bring them back, but Jed was on the porch and standing in the kitchen door before Gideon could catch up. Damn, but Jed could move fast when he wanted to.
Mrs. Hennessey served them herself and tutted around the kitchen while they ate, making it impossible for Gideon to ask what he wanted, but Jed couldn’t avoid the conversation all afternoon. As they finished up, George returned with two full pails of milk and more happiness than Gideon had seen all day.
“How close is Sutter Creek?” Gideon asked as he cleared his plate and Jed’s. “Can we make the ride this afternoon?”
She turned from the counter where she’d been washing up, and Gideon saw fear in her eyes. She probably didn’t want to be left alone out here, and Gideon couldn’t blame her. Jed spoke first, though, and Gideon wondered at this new side of the man.
“I will stay here, if you wish. I think you are safe now, but I can stay behind while Gideon goes into the town.” Something in the way he said it added to Gideon’s suspicions, but Jed still wouldn’t look at him.
“Would you mind, Jedediah?” Mrs. Hennessey asked, her hands knotted in a washing cloth. “I’d feel safer for me and the kids if someone stayed behind.”
“I do not mind. Your barn needs repair. I can start that.”
“That’s a great idea, Jed,” he said heartily. “Come on, I’ll show you what George and I were looking at when you got back.”
Jed smirked at him, a look he knew very well after all these weeks. It said, You aren’t winning anything. “I will stay and help Mrs. Hennessey,” he said. “George, please tell Gideon how to find his way into town.”
Damn, Gideon could have used that one himself, if he’d thought of it. But George was already up and bouncing toward the door. “Come on, it’s easy. You won’t be able to miss the old mines, and….” His voice trailed off as he ran out the door, but he stopped on the back step. “Come on, Mister Makepeace! Daylight’s wastin’!”
So Gideon found himself riding into Sutter Creek alone while Jed and George worked on the fence, and Jed continued to avoid him.
It was a nice afternoon, and once he stopped trying to figure Jed out, he let himself enjoy the sunlight and the pretty country and the feel of Star beneath him. Seemed like she was as glad to feel his weight on her back as he was to be off his feet. She stepped lively down a wide, well-maintained road that followed the lazy river, just like George had described. He came upon the town, a once-sizable place that looked like its better days were behind it, almost too quickly, especially for the task at hand, but the news was met with grimness and concern.
“WE ALREADY got people out looking for these men,” Deputy Earl Rock said when Gideon finished his tale. “Didn’t realize they’d turned that way, though—damn, the Hennesseys are good people, deserved better than that. You say Moira and the kids are all right?”
Gideon hesitated, looking around the small barbershop that the man owned. When he’d stopped by the sheriff’s office, the door had been locked and a sign on the door directed him here, to the deputy’s business. Three other men listened in, two customers and another barber, and Gideon didn’t feel comfortable giving out details in front of them.
Deputy Rock frowned, then suggested that they step out onto the boardwalk. Despite the people bustling along—it was a busy enough little town—they had more privacy here. And Deputy Rock wasn’t a stupid man. “Rumor has it that these bastards got no qualms about taking things that ain’t theirs—livestock, food, coin, women….” He arched an eyebrow and waited.
Gideon sighed and nodded. “Reckon that ain’t a rumor anymore. Mrs. Hennessey and the kids are alive, but I can’t say they all got out unharmed.”
Rock nodded, rubbing at his chin. “Sheriff Bishop and a couple of men have been out riding the past few days, looking for any sign of them. You think Mrs. Hennessey noticed which way those bastards rode out?”
“I can do you better’n that,” Gideon assured the man. “My guide, the man who’s seen me safely from Livingston, Montana, to here, saw plenty of tracks. I think he thought he could follow their trail without any trouble.”
Rock looked excited at the prospect. “He good?”
Gideon nodded. “He’s a Sioux Indian from North Dakota. If there’s a trail, I’d bet he can find it.”
Rock’s faced twisted into a dark, hungry smile that under the circumstances, Gideon appreciated. “You staying out at the Hennesseys’ tonight?” Rock asked.
“Reckon so,” he said. “I was going to pick up some supplies and head back out that way. The bastards cleaned her out. Most of her animals are gone, and her larder’s almost bare. Some of you be out tomorrow?”
Rock nodded. “If they’re all right tonight, yeah. It’d be easier in the morning. Sheriff Bishop’s due back tonight. He can put together a posse, head out at first light.” Rock frowned and glanced around himself. “He ain’t gonna take this news well. He’s been friendly with the Hennesseys ever since George was born.”
Gideon nodded. “My guide and I didn’t take it well when we rode into it, Deputy,” he said. “And I’d never met those folks before.” He was eager to find these bastards and get ’em locked up. Jed would be, too, no matter how strange he’d been acting today. Maybe even because of it. “We’ll be glad to help out.”
Rock asked for a few more details before he and Gideon parted company, him back into his shop and Gideon for the general store. His funds were getting shorter, but the Hennesseys had needs right now. He picked up small sacks of flour, sugar, potatoes, and a few of the other things he knew had been taken, as well as bacon and some candy for the kids. Star wasn’t happy with the extra weight, but her steps were still high as they headed back to the farm at a trot.
The sun hung low in the west when he caught sight of a familiar rooftop, and he kneed Star into a canter. The forty extra pounds of supplies were tied down tight, and she tossed her head, unwilling to try and get the bit between her teeth but eager to run. He loosened the reins and leaned forward, letting her go at a full gallop down the well-traveled trail that led up to the Hennessey home. It helped him more than his horse, to feel the freedom of wind on his face. Deputy Rock had promised that the posse would leave at first light, which would put them here early morning, and Gideon knew any man who saw her bruises would think the worst. Would think the truth. Mrs. Hennessey’s shame would spread through this region like all gossip did, and he wondered if she’d be more vulnerable for it or better protected by her neighbors.
Mrs. Hennessey had set a plate aside for him, fresh stewed chicken and onions that was just about the best thing he’d ever tasted, more biscuits, and greens that George and Jed had rustled up. “Ma’am,” Gideon said between mouthfuls, “this is about the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She flushed at the compliment and ducked her head, so Gideon stopped talking and kept eating, showing his appreciation by using the last biscuit to sop the plate clean. “There now,” he said, pushing it forward and dropping a hand to his full belly. “You won’t even need to wash it.”
That got a tiny laugh from her, and Gideon smiled, fond. She’d pull through.
He decided he’d best tell her the news while her spirits were high. “I met Deputy Rock,” he said. “He said Sheriff Bishop and a couple of men had been out looking for these ba—” A quick look to George made him bite his tongue, “bad men,” he amended. “He said they would round up a posse and come out this way as early as they can start moving in the morning.”
Mrs. Hennessey’s brows tugged down, and she swiped her palms down her apron. “I….”
�
��Mrs. Hennessey? You know Sheriff Bishop and Deputy Rock?”
Her lips pursed briefly. “Yes, we do.”
“Are they good men?”
She sighed and pulled out a chair, dropping heavily into it and crossing her legs. “Yes,” she whispered. “Dale Bishop has a daughter a few years older than George, and Earl could shave my husband better than I ever could….”
“Then it’ll be all right,” Gideon said gently. Jed, shoulder propping up the kitchen wall, watched avidly, almost like he was waiting for Gideon to mess this up. Gideon jerked his head: you do it, then. But Jed looked away, so Gideon forged on. “They know how bad these men are. They’ll be happy to catch ’em and see ’em all hanged. Ain’t nobody gonna think the worse of you for what’s happened here.”
She looked away from him, and Gideon felt the tension grow in the room. He struggled for something to say, but words failed him now, just at the time he needed them most.
“Gideon,” Jed said softly, “go tend your horse.”
Gideon frowned at Jed, unsure, but Jed nodded, his eyes soft. “I will help Mrs. Hennessey clear the kitchen.”
Gideon was relieved to be away from all this raw emotion, and another small nod from Jed spurred him on. He thanked Mrs. Hennessey for the meal one last time and slipped out the back to see to Star. He took his time cooling her down after the long ride, talking to her, since he couldn’t seem to corner Jed for ten damned seconds. Jed had kept himself occupied or surrounded by kids all evening, staying in the house long after Gideon had run out of things to do and gone back after him.
Mrs. Hennessey made coffee for him and Jed, and Gideon settled into a chair by the warm hearth, trying not to glare at Jed’s calm profile while Jed helped Mrs. Hennessey put the two youngest to bed. The thought of that hair scalped and carried around like a trophy sickened him, and he wished to hell George had never put the idea into his head. With the toddlers settled in, Jed told George a story Gideon had never heard him tell, about a young warrior named Brave Bear who was afraid of nothing, not even four ghosts who set out to scare him. Gideon couldn’t say Jed was a completely different man, but he’d never seen this side of him before—gentler, softer, slower moving and more tender to everyone and everything around him. When he told of the way Brave Bear bested the ghosts, making bets with them that he won, he used his hands to help draw the pictures, and he laughed, seeming as much a child as George.
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