Mountain War: Defending Their Home (Mountain Man Book 4)

by Nathan Jones

  Well, at least someone considers saving them a good thing. It wasn't just Bob and Lisa who'd thought what he'd done was a mistake, since it had led to Sangue taking interest in this area. And while he didn't regret his actions he had to admit that his detractors had a point, since even now Sangue troops might be approaching the bowl valley to kill them all.

  Anyway, he appreciated her vote of confidence about fighting, although he wasn't sure that was even what he wanted right now. “I'm okay with sticking around training recruits.”

  Tabby gave him a surprised look, but thankfully didn't press him on the issue and shifted the conversation to lighter topics. After ten or so minutes they finally, reluctantly acknowledged it was time to get back to work, and headed to the pasture to take over watching the herds from the girl's relatives.

  The day was looking to be another boring one, mostly spent fretting over loved ones out there somewhere in danger. But a few hours later a commotion at the northeast end of the bowl valley heralded the return of most of the volunteers. The commotion quickly spread throughout Camptown and the summer retreat, and to Skyler and Tabby as well, as they all cheered in relief.

  Jenny and a few of the other women from her group came over to the pasture, offering to watch the livestock so they could greet their loved ones. Skyler and his friend thanked them, then raced across the valley towards the travel-weary group of volunteers.

  Although to be honest, he wasn't sure how much of a hurry he was in. He was happy to see his adoptive dad, of course, and Brandon and Logan and the others too. But at the same time he felt that familiar frustration welling up again.

  He hadn't been allowed to go with them, even to help scout the approaching Sangue squads. And now that they were here, the one thing he had been able to do to make himself useful, training the recruits, was over. Trapper would praise him for a job well done, even after he reported just how poorly he'd managed to keep the recalcitrant new volunteers in line. Then his adoptive father would shuffle him back to the role of assistant, reduced to fetching ammo and double checking that everyone was following instructions properly while the mountain man taught.

  Even Logan, who was only three years older than him, would often get assigned to oversee smaller groups or do squad or team training as a leader. Three years, but everyone listened to the guy as if he was as old and grizzled as Trapper himself.

  It wasn't fair.

  His adoptive dad saw him coming and quickened his pace to meet him, pulling him into a hug. “How did it go?” Skyler asked him. “We still okay?”

  “For the moment.” Trapper gave him a weary smile. “We trailed the three squads until they split up and one started getting uncomfortably close to Camptown. We ambushed that one and chased the other two away.”

  Relief mingled with a confusing surge of jealousy swept through him. “Is everyone okay?”

  His adoptive father's smile faltered. “We lost some people,” he admitted. “The bloodies know how to fight, even when caught by surprise.” He quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “How are your mom and sister, and everyone else at the retreat? How did things go here with the training, and Brady in charge of the town?”

  Skyler quickly filled him in on how everyone who'd stayed behind was doing, then gave a brief summary of training the recruits. It was a temptation to try to hide just how poorly it had gone, but he figured the mountain man would hear about it anyway, and probably sooner rather than later; it might as well come from him, rather than from someone who might paint him in a less fair light.

  Trapper listened patiently, not showing much visible reaction to the bad news. “I'll need to know who the worst troublemakers were,” he said when Skyler finished. “However they might've felt about you training them, I specifically left you in charge.”

  He grimaced. “Yelling at them isn't going to make them like me any more.”

  “No,” his adoptive father agreed grimly. “But discipline is its own reward . . . they're going to be useless if they can't work with other people.”

  Great, so not only would he be busted back down to running and fetching, but everyone was going to be pissed off at him for getting them in trouble, and even less likely to work with him if by some miracle he was ever put in a position of authority again.

  Skyler supposed he should just be glad the recruits would be getting some proper training now. Trapper beating Sangue out there wasn't going to make the enemy go away, and when they came back Camptown needed as many skilled volunteers as they could get.

  Including him? He wasn't so sure.

  He told his adoptive dad everyone who'd actively caused trouble, and then at the old man's insistence all the inattentive and lazy recruits as well. That was a depressingly long list. Once he finished, Trapper mulled things over thoughtfully for a minute or so while Skyler fidgeted.

  “Why didn't you tell the worst of them to leave when they started disrupting training?” the mountain man finally asked.

  He hunched his shoulders. He had a reason, he was just afraid Trapper wouldn't think it was a good one. “If I'd tried, they would've just laughed at me and refused to go. That would've pretty much been it for any authority I had with the recruits.”

  His adoptive dad nodded, still deep in thought. “I suppose that's why you didn't ask Brady for help, either?”

  Skyler nodded miserably. That, and he'd been ashamed to admit to Camptown's interim leader that he couldn't do it on his own. But Trapper's questions were making it clear to him that he should've done something. That because he hadn't, all this was pretty much his fault.

  But then, why wouldn't it be? He'd been in charge, so if things went wrong there was no one to blame but himself. “I messed up pretty bad, didn't I?” he asked, kicking at the ground.

  The mountain man sighed. “I'd say we all did, son. I knew the recruits weren't on par with the volunteers when it came to discipline or attitude, but I left you to handle things without any help. And the recruits are certainly to blame for wasting your time and theirs, and squandering an opportunity to learn things they'll desperately need in the weeks to come.”

  “Well, at least the problem's solved now that you're here to handle training.”

  Trapper shook his head grimly. “Except when I need to be out there, fighting. I need to rein the recruits in, make sure they're not going to run wild on whoever I leave in charge when I'm gone. I've got to admit, I'm disappointed in them.”

  And in me. His adoptive dad didn't say it, by his expression didn't seem to be thinking it, either. But Skyler couldn't see how it was possible the man wasn't, after how he'd messed things up.

  He had a sudden urge to head for the northern peak, climb up to Sulk Point. But deep down he knew running away wouldn't make him feel any better about himself. He'd done enough of that already.

  So instead he joined Trapper, helping the volunteers get their gear and supplies back to Brady and unloaded into the new tarp-covered log building they were using as the storehouse. Then he insisted his adoptive dad get some rest before dinner, while he took care of the seemingly endless list of chores around the retreat that needed doing.

  Who knew, maybe if he proved he was a responsible, hard worker, his mom would change her mind about him risking his life fighting. It hadn't happened so far, but you never knew.

  * * * * *

  Tom was awakened the next morning by a tiny bundle of joy patting his cheek and saying “Da'y, eek up!” over and over until he finally stifled a groan and cracked his eyes open.

  “Morning, sweetie,” he mumbled, kissing his daughter's rosy cheek. If he had to get woken up early, the sight of her adorable little face wasn't the worst way.

  Molly beamed, showing the gap-toothed grin of a two-year-old as she climbed under the blankets and snuggled up to him, settling down as if to go to sleep. He doubted that was happening any time before early afternoon, her usual nap time, but if she stayed quiet he might be able to go back to sleep himself. So he hugged her close and le
t his eyes droop closed again.

  It was a vain hope, of course. A minute or so was all Molly gave him, before she started patting his cheek and yelling in his ear for him to wake up again, giggling when he jumped as if surprised and opened his eyes, saying, “I'm awake!”

  He was, in fact, genuinely surprised to find that Kristy was standing in the doorway, watching them with a fond smile on her face. He smiled back and patted the bed, inviting her to come join the snuggling.

  “Go bed!” Molly shouted insistently, trying to get him to close his eyes so she could “wake” him up again.

  “If only,” he joked, tussling her soft brown curls.

  Still standing in the doorway, his wife laughed. “You just slept for almost twelve hours straight, and you're still ready to hit the hay?”

  “That's what you get for marrying an old man,” Tom groused with mock grumpiness, patting the bed again.

  Kristy rolled her eyes. “Your breakfast is ice cold by now and the recruits are waiting for you to drag yourself out of bed and train them. Besides, we cuddled for hours last night.” But in spite of her protests, she joined them beneath the blankets, resting her head on his shoulder and hugging Molly close between them. “And I did so not marry an old man.”

  “Did too.” Tom rested a hand on her pregnant belly. “This little guy's going to think I'm his grandpa.”

  She swatted playfully at his arm. “I swear, ever since you turned 40 a few months ago you've been talking like you're a doddering geezer. Meanwhile you can run men half your age into the ground, then turn around and run back without breaking a sweat.”

  “Well, I'm a good actor. Wouldn't do to let the people I'm in charge of hear how these old joints are screaming after a long day.” He got serious for a moment. “Speaking of running people into the ground, Skyler told me the recruits were balking with him.”

  His wife also sobered, expression tightening. “Might explain why he was being so moody with me while you were gone, barely saying a word.” She hesitated. “Aside from, you know . . .”

  From her completely reasonable insistence their fourteen year old son not put himself in danger, she meant. Something that hadn't made her too popular with Skyler lately, even after his experiences at Gerry's Ravine seemed to have made him rethink the glory of fighting.

  Tom rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “All part of the joy of raising a teenager. He'll come around before long.”

  She made a dubious noise of agreement, then with a sigh wiggled out from under the blankets, careful and awkward with her seven-month belly. “Well, much as I'd love to lie around in bed all day with two of my favorite people, we've both got work to do, and there's no telling how long this “vacation” the Sheriff is giving you will last before the weight of the world settles back on your shoulders.”

  She nudged his hip playfully with her foot as she rubbed at the small of her back. “Go on, hurry up and eat your congealed, drying breakfast, then go try to sort out this mess with Skyler and the recruits. And while you're at it, see if you can convince our son to get his head out of his hiney. After that you can make yourself useful around here . . . this place is falling apart.”

  Grumbling good-naturedly, he gave Molly a last hug and kiss and climbed out of bed, reaching for his boots. He was a bit disappointed to discover he really had let his breakfast sit too long while he slept in, and the usually delicious buttered bread and porridge was less than appetizing.

  He bolted it down as quick as he could as Kristy busied herself around the room. Then he grabbed his weapons and other gear he'd need, pausing on his way to the door to ruffle Molly's curls and give his wife a kiss goodbye, along with an admonishment not to push herself too hard. With their daughter waving and calling “Bye!” behind him, he ducked outside to look for Skyler and head to the shooting range at the northeastern end of the bowl valley.

  His son was nowhere to be seen, but Jenny and Mer were waiting at the outdoor dining table. Tom glanced around quickly to make sure Skyler really was out of earshot, then headed over to join the two young women.

  “Skyler tells me the training didn't go so well while I was gone,” he said quietly by way of greeting.

  Their expressions soured. “Not for lack of trying on his part,” Mer muttered. “Everyone just seemed to have a stick up their butt about having to follow a kid, and nobody paid attention to him unless he was having them do things they wanted to do anyway. One idiot nearly shot someone because he was ignoring Skyler's instructions and goofing off, and there was an actual fistfight he had to break up.”

  “Fistfight?” Tom repeated, surprised. “Between who?”

  “Coby Fredricks and Derrick Nowak,” Jenny said, scowling. “That was after Coby was goofing off and pointed a rifle at Derrick, like Mer said. Wasn't the first time that horse's rear end was goofing off, either. Seems like he spent the entire time you were gone going out of his way to stop Skyler from teaching us anything useful.”

  His son had told him some of that, but he hadn't mentioned things had gone that far. Ashamed at his lack of control over the recruits, or not wanting to rat them out? “And how did Skyler handle that?”

  She shrugged. “Not as well as he could've. But better than most would've, considering the situation. He confiscated Coby's gun, but didn't send him packing.”

  Tom bit back a sigh. “Seen my son around? We should all get to training.”

  Mer pointed towards the southern end of the bowl valley, where his livestock were grazing. “He was helping out the Knudsens while he waited for you.”

  To him it looked more like the teenager was shooting the breeze with Tabby, but at least he wasn't distracting her from her work. Tom whistled to get his attention, jerking his head towards the shooting range.

  Obviously reluctant, Skyler motioned for him to go on ahead and, in no hurry, said his goodbyes to his friend and began ambling after them. Tom shook his head and started for the range with Jenny and Mer.

  Maybe it was better his son not be there while he sorted things out with the recruits. Wouldn't do much for the teenager's image as a leader, if he was standing there while Tom chewed out some malcontents. As if he'd gone running to tattle on their misbehavior because he couldn't deal with it himself.

  What a mess. And all Tom's own fault, for not considering how people would react to having a kid in his early teens put in charge of them while he was gone. Or, well, mostly his fault; the recruits certainly bore plenty of responsibility for their behavior, and likely even Skyler himself had made mistakes on his first stint leading the training alone.

  The recruits were all waiting for his arrival, clumped in groups chatting. They looked happy and relieved to see him there that morning; they had to know he was back in the bowl valley, but maybe they'd been worried he'd take the day off.

  Or worried they'd once again be stuck with Skyler. Tom felt a surge of irritation on behalf of his son, although that wasn't entirely fair to the gathered men and women.

  His irritation only increased when one of the happiest people to see him was none other than Coby Fredricks, the apparent troublemaker. The teenager didn't wait for him to arrive, instead hurrying out to meet him halfway. “Trapper!” he said jovially, offering his hand. “Good to have you back. Now we can get back to proper train-”

  “You're out of the volunteers,” Tom told him, not bothering with any niceties. At his tone Jenny and Mer shared a glance between them, then hurriedly circled the surprised young man to join the other recruits.

  Coby's smile had vanished. “What?”

  “You heard me. Head back to Camptown.”

  The young man's face began to redden. “Why, because I didn't play nice with your kid?”

  In a manner of speaking. “Because you spent what little time the recruits have available before they'll be needed in the fight disrupting training and wasting everyone's time.”

  Now Coby was definitely getting pissed. “Just because I had a problem with you putting a kid who can't even grow f
acial hair in charge, for no better reason than because he's your son, doesn't mean I don't want to protect my family. Have I ever been a problem with you during training?”

  Tom had to admit that the young man had been one of the more promising recruits, but that was beside the point. “And what if you've got a problem with your team leader, or your squad leader? Am I supposed to drag you around with me because I'm the only one you'll listen to, while you go out of your way to cause trouble for everyone else? I just lost four good people in battle against a skilled, dangerous, disciplined enemy. Against the odds we face, I can't have volunteers who are a liability.”

  Coby stared at the ground sullenly, looking far younger than his eighteen years. “Skyler-”

  He once again cut in sharply. “-has knowledge and skills that will keep you and the other recruits alive out there, whatever his age. You rejected that experience, and while I might be able to forgive that if you were willing to work extra hard make it up, you also went out of your way to make sure nobody else was able to benefit from it, either. You even waved a gun in someone's face like a lunatic.”

  He shook his head grimly. “That, I can't forgive. You claim you want to protect your family, but you put your pride above everyone's survival. I don't want that in my volunteers, so you're out.”

  For several tense seconds the teenager glared at him, mouth working slightly around all the insults he probably wanted to say. Then he spat at Tom's feet. “Your loss, if you want to kick out people willing to fight just when you need us most. Maybe your buddy Hendrickson had the right idea about leaving this death trap.”

  While Tom was trying to think of a response to that, Coby turned towards the recruits. “Let's go, Luce, Bret! Looks like we're out.”

  Tom frowned, since he'd never intended to kick out Lucy Wyland or Bret Easton. On the other hand, they'd been two of the other biggest troublemakers, unsurprising if they were Coby's buddies. So he said nothing as the three teenagers stalked back towards Camptown, glaring at him as they passed and not trying to be quiet in the insults they tossed his way.