Chapters 1-10
A sequel to ‘To Die Game’
by Layla
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the TV program
"Big Valley" are the creations of Four Star/Republic Pictures and
have been used without permission. No copyright
infringement is intended by the author.
The ideas expressed in this story are copyrighted to the author.
Chapter
1
Nick squinted his eyes and swallowed with some
difficulty. “Heath, that first day you
rode into the ranch… Didn’t you say you
had worked as a hasher?”
Heath was sitting on a fallen log near the fire eating a
plate of beans. He looked up. “Sure did.”
“How quick did they fire you?”
“What makes you think I got fired?”
“Anybody who’s tasted your cooking – especially them beans
– and didn’t fire you needs their head examined! Ain’t no way any outfit would keep you around as a hasher!”
Heath glared back.
“There ain’t nothing wrong with my cooking! And I can tell you for a fact it’s a darn sight better than
yours, even though that ain’t saying much.
Anyway, I never got any complaints.”
Nick raked the beans in his plate into the campfire and
tossed the plate on the ground. “Well
they must have been half-starved! I
hear a starving man will eat just about anything.”
“Well, you heard right!” Heath snapped back, his face
draining of expression as he stared intently into the fire.
Nick knew his brother was a thousand miles away right now
and had a good idea where he was. For
as much pain as the Pinkerton investigation had wrought, Nick was thankful for
the insight it had given him into Heath’s life. He could see that beyond the expressionless face, Heath’s mind
was teeming. Nick regretted that an
inadvertent, innocent remark could sometimes dreg up painful memories for
Heath. But Nick had also learned he
could keep his brother from brooding by snatching him back quickly.
Nick picked up a tin coffee cup and clanged the side of it
with his fork. “How about pouring me a
cup of that coffee? You might not be
able to cook worth a lick, but I will admit you brew up a mean cup of
coffee. It will help warm me up.”
It seemed that each night on the trail had gotten colder
as late fall settled over the Sierra Nevada Mountains. They had camped amid the trees in an effort
to block the chilly winds that were a constant reminder that winter was right
around the corner.
Heath picked up one of the gloves that laid across his
thigh and wrapped it around the handle of the hot coffee pot sitting over the
fire. He poured Nick a cup of the
steaming brew. “I sure hope the
weather’s gonna hold out.”
“Yeah, I know. I
never figured on making the trip this late.
The weather can be pretty unpredictable up here this time of year.”
“Sorry.” Heath put
his unfinished plate on the ground and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Hey, now…” Nick said soothingly, “I didn’t mean it like
that. What happened was out of your
control. I didn’t have to wait on you
to make this trip. I put it off because
I wanted you here with me! Hell, for
that, I’m willing to risk a little frostbite as well as whatever eating your
cooking day after day will do to a man.”
Heath smiled.
“That’s mighty brave of you, Nick.”
“You bet it is, Boy!”
“Guess I’d better make sure the horses are tied down
secure for the night.”
“Already did that, Heath.
Don’t worry; they’re not going anywhere. You keep sneaking peeps at that stallion like he’s gonna vanish
into thin air!”
Heath grinned. “He
sure is a beauty, Nick. Finest horse
I’ve ever laid eyes on. I still can’t
believe a man would be willing to part with a horse like that.”
“I’m gonna have to teach you some of my stock-buying tricks,
that’s for sure! Rule number one is you
don’t stand there wide-eyed and slack-jawed when you look at an animal. The seller will know just how bad you want
it and up the price.” Nick smiled at
the recollection of Heath’s first look at the beautiful bay. Even if it wasn’t obvious to Hank Watson
that Heath was thoroughly taken with the horse, Nick could see it.
Nick had taken Hank off to the side to talk to him
privately. “I’d like to buy Charger,
Hank.”
The Barkleys were old friends and valued stock buyers but
Hank shook his head. “Nick, I wasn’t
showing Charger to you to offer him for sale!
Two of those three mares you’re buying are in foal to him right now. I wanted you to get a look at the sire so
you know you’re getting not only quality mares, but they are bred to my
best! That’s why those two mares were
so pricey.”
“I know that, Hank.
But now that I’ve seen Charger, I’ve got my hat set on buying that
horse! You’ve got some fine stock up
here, Hank, but you’re still a small, out of the way ranch. The way I see it, selling that horse to me
does two very important things for you.
First, your reputation as a breeder is made if your stock is good enough
to become part of the Barkley Ranch breeding program. Second, Charger is the best advertisement you could ask for. You still have all your foundation stock
including Charger’s sire and your proven broodmares. Ranchers from the Valley will be knocking your door down, Hank,
lining up for next spring’s foal crop!”
Nick smiled thinking back on his accomplishment. Hank had made him pay through the nose, but
the stallion was heading home with his new master, just the way Nick
intended. Mother always said he could
sell coal to Newcastle when he turned on his powers of persuasion. Nick had told Hank to keep the purchase
secret until he and Heath were ready to hit the trail.
Heath had the three mares tethered together and started to
loop the rope around his saddle horn.
“Boy howdy, Nick, I sure hope one of these mares will throw a bay colt
next spring that looks just like Charger!”
Nick just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “He’s alright, I reckon. I kinda wish they were in foal to Renown,
that big chestnut in the last stall.”
Heath shook his head in disbelief. “Nick, you might be the best horse trader
around, but I can see right now you’d better take me along to help you pick out
the stock! No telling what kind of
crockheads you’d bring home.”
Nick crossed his arms and regarded his brother, a devious
little smile playing on his lips.
“Well, it just so happens I managed to pick out a horse all by my
lonesome just for you! There was this
cow-hocked, ewe-necked, sway-backed plug out there in a back pasture and I said
‘Hank, that old nag would be perfect for my little brother!’ Now give me that string of mares so you can
lead your new horse home.”
Heath groaned.
This was just the kind of stunt his big brother would pull!
“So help me, Nick, if you make me ride back in there
leading some…”
“Hold on, Boy!
There he is now!” A huge grin
burst out on Nick’s face as he looked past Heath toward the stallion barn. Heath turned to follow Nick’s gaze and let
out an audible gasp.
Hank Watson walked the magnificent bay stallion toward
them on a lead line. The stallion had
fully collected himself to strut his stuff in front of the mare band in a
nearby corral. He neighed to them so
loudly that his whole body shook.
Confident he had the mares’ attention, the stallion arched his massive
neck and flagged his tail over his back.
The muscles rippled beneath his bay coat as he snorted and pranced at
the end of the lead line.
Charger was putting on a show but Nick opted to watch the
expression on Heath’s face as he gazed at the horse. No doubt about it, this one memory was worth all the haggling
Nick was forced to do and the price he had paid for the stallion.
“Take good care of him, Heath.” Hank Watson handed the stallion’s lead to Heath.
“Always, Mr. Watson.” Heath managed to utter in an awed
whisper.
Heath maintained a stunned silence until they were alone a
half-mile or so down the road. Heath
pulled his mare to a halt and turned to his big brother.
“Nick, I don’t know what to say…”
Nick knew exactly what this gift meant to Heath. Words were not necessary between the two of
them. Heath’s full, expressive blue
eyes were speaking volumes to Nick.
Nick’s hazel eyes began to fill with their reply. Nick knew he had better look away
quickly. He cleared his throat.
“Ah… well… um, how about saying ‘Thanks Nick’.”
“Thanks, Nick.”
Nick flashed a self-satisfied grin as a hint of mischief
danced in his eyes. “And how about
saying ‘Sorry, Nick, for ever doubting your ability to choose horseflesh.’ How about saying ‘Only you, Nick, could have
talked old Hank outta that horse!’ Or
how about…”
Heath laughed. “I
get your point, Nick! Guess I’m going
to have to listen to you toot your own horn all the way home. But boy howdy, is it ever worth it!”
“So what’s rule number two?” Heath’s question brought Nick’s attention back to the present.
“Rule number two is, if it ain’t necessary, don’t tell
anybody you’re a Barkley from Stockton!”
Chapter
2
Nick finished off a cup of strong, hot coffee and glanced
over at his brother. “You ready to hit
the trail, Heath?”
“Been ready, Nick!”
“Then let’s do it!”
Nick had already looped the string of mares to his
saddle. The morning had dawned with a
chilling cold. Nick noted with concern
that the morning had also dawned frostless.
He had slept outdoors on enough occasions to know that depending on the
season, dew or frost forms only when the atmospheric conditions don’t favor
precipitation. That a frost had failed
to form was worrisome.
“It’s just getting too damn cold to be sleeping out on the
trail up here!”
“You think this is cold, Nick? You ought to be up in the Rockies in the dead of winter when it’s
thirty below zero…”
“Uh-huh. Seen it
all, ain’t you Boy? I swear, Heath,
next you’ll be telling me you’ve ridden clear to the Atlantic Ocean and back on
that short-legged Modoc!” Nick locked
his brother with a withering stare.
The blond met his gaze.
“Once on the Modoc and twice on a turtle’s back.” Heath drawled with his
best poker face. “So maybe I have seen
it all, Nick.”
Heath threw Nick a crooked smile, swung up into his saddle
and started off down the trail with Charger in tow.
Nick threw back his head and laughed, his breath frosty on
contact with the air.
They continued down the trail for several hours, the collars
of their coats turned up and the brims of their hats pulled low. Vapor clouds formed around the noses and
mouths of man and beast alike. There
had been no conversation as they concentrated on picking their way carefully
down the narrow mountain trail.
Nick cast a worried eye toward the darkening skies. What little warmth the sun had provided
earlier was now gone as the sky became increasingly overcast. Ever nearer peaks of the Sierra Nevada were
disappearing into a slate gray shroud.
Nature revealed yet another sign of the approaching storm as the higher
winds extended to lower and lower air.
A chill wind whined through the evergreens, a harbinger of the misery to
come.
Heath reined his mare to a stop and turned to look back at
Nick. “The weather’s not going to hold,
Nick!” he called above the moan that swept through the trees.
“I know it!” Nick
eyed the layers of gray clouds that sheeted the sky, darkening the day. Rags of clouds dangled beneath them like
torn remnants. “Looks like we could be
in for a snowstorm before nightfall. We
need to think about finding shelter!”
“There’s an old abandoned mining town up river by the name
of Delco. It’s about eight miles
northeast of here as the crow flies.
It’s out of our way, but at least we’d be sleeping inside tonight. We passed a game trail a few miles
back. We could follow it to the river,
and then follow the river up to Delco.
You can’t miss it.”
A cold gust of wind rattled the spindly branches of a
birch. Nick pulled his collar up higher
around his ears. “Delco’s probably our
best bet. I don’t feel much like trying
to build a shelter out of evergreen branches.
Lead the way!”
The men also knew laboring to construct a shelter could
ultimately work against them. If they broke
a sweat, the icy wind whipping through their clothes would chill them to the
bone.
For another hour, they carefully negotiated the game
trail, step by laborious step until they reached the river. This section of the Mokelumne River always
seemed to Heath to be the proverbial tortured brown snake as it slashed and
rambled down the mountain. Heath and
Nick followed the river’s winding path northeast until the outline of Delco’s
rooftops was visible against the slate-gray skyline.
Delco was but one of many towns that had sprung up in this
mountainous stretch of mining country.
What had started out as a primitive mining camp had quickly boomed into
a full-fledged town when Roy Delwin had discovered a major vein. Millions of dollars worth of gold had been
mined out of the Delco mine over a span of fifteen years. Eventually, the gold mine had played out and
the town of Delco had seen a rapid decline.
The town had gone bust just as quickly as it had once boomed.
Heath had seen it all before when his hometown suffered
the same fate. He had heard that Delco
was now completely deserted – a virtual ghost town. Heath felt sure that Strawberry would soon suffer the same fate. Soon there would be nothing at all in
Strawberry, nothing except his mother’s grave.
They parted company with the fast-rushing Mokelumne and
headed up the slope for the narrow road that led into Delco. The road was already starting to grow up
from disuse. As Nick and Heath neared
the deserted mining town, Nick reached over and tapped his brother’s
shoulder. He pointed over to a slanted
old signpost that seemed nearly ready to topple completely to the ground.
Delco had been X-d out and right above it, a new name had
been painted. The letters were uneven
and of different sizes, almost as if they had been painted by a child. The way the once-wet paint had run down
beneath the lettering and dried gave the sign an eerie quality. The sign read ‘REMNANT’ in blood-red paint.
Nick and Heath rode past the steep face of Rim Rock
Cliffs, topped a rise and looked down at the deserted town of Delco. The old mining town had one long street with
a few vacant lots separating the storefronts.
The livery and a doctor’s office stood at the edge of town. A general store, a saloon, the smithy and an
old hotel were among the other businesses lining the street. A small church was the last building at the
far end of town. The road then curved
through a pass that led to the gated enclosure surrounding the Delco mining
buildings and the old mine itself.
“We’ll get the horses settled in the livery and find a
place to bed down for the night.”
Heath surveyed the town.
“Looks like we’ll have our pick.
How about the hotel?”
“Wanna check out the saloon first?” Nick squinted at Heath and smiled. “Couldn’t hurt. We might just get lucky!”
Nick led the way into Delco with the string of mares. Heath rode just behind him with the bay
stallion in tow.
They stopped in front of the old livery. Nick swung down and handed the string of
mares and Coco’s reins to Heath. He
pulled open one of the livery’s large double doors and stepped inside. Nick looked over the abandoned building with
an appraising eye. One of the stalls
had been broken down, but the rest were intact as were the walls and the
roof. There were even a few bales of
hay in the loft.
“Bring ‘em on in, Heath!” Nick called.
The men got each horse settled in a stall and their tack
stowed in the old tack room. Heath
found the water pump behind the livery, primed it, and worked the handle until it
drew water once again. He filled the
water buckets in the stalls while Nick gave each horse a ration of hay.
Heath folded his arms atop the stall’s wooden slats and
watched Charger contentedly munch his hay.
A hand on his shoulder broke the spell.
“Come on, Boy.
Let’s go get settled in ourselves.”
Nick handed Heath his saddlebags and bedroll.
Heath smiled.
“This sure beats weathering the storm out there on the trail, but I’m
still planning on cooking beans tonight.”
Nick shook his head and started for the door. “You’re about as mean as they come… you know
that, Heath? You got the rest of the
family completely fooled!” Nick grumbled over his shoulder.
Heath grinned and gave Charger a pat on his neck. “See ya later, fella.”
They walked up the empty street, the jingling of Nick’s
spurs echoing through the silent town.
The narrow gaps between some of the buildings were in the shadows and
the eyes that followed their progress were in deeper shadow still.
Nick and Heath stepped up onto the boardwalk and entered
the saloon. The establishment had been
emptied of all furniture except the bar and a couple of broken chairs.
Nick walked around behind the bar. He backed out gingerly as his boots crunched
on shattered glass. Smashed wine
bottles glittered like murky emeralds on the dirty floor.
“Looks like a couple of bottles were left behind and
someone smashed them.” Nick’s tone was
quizzical.
“I didn’t figure we’d find anything to drink here anyway,
Nick. We’ll just have to wait until we
get home. Come on, let’s go check out
the hotel.”
They made their way across the street to the abandoned
hotel. Nick grasped the door handle and
smiled when it turned without resistance.
He swung the door open and motioned for Heath to follow him inside. Heath had paused on the boardwalk and was
looking up at the faded blue lettering on a white background.
The letters HEL were all that was left of the word spelled
out on the faded sign.
Chapter
3
Nick was coming around the reception desk with a handful
of keys when Heath entered the lobby.
Heath picked up the registration book, blew the dust off the cover and
offered it to Nick. “You forgot to sign
in, Nick!”
Nick took the book and tossed it back on the desk. “I’ll do it when I settle up on the bill. Come on, let’s see what shape the rooms are
in.”
Heath chuckled as he followed Nick up the stairs. The first room they checked had broken out
windows. The second was piled high with
discarded furniture. The third room
held an old bed frame with a bare, dirty mattress. The wallpaper had been pink at one time but now it had faded to a
dusky rose. The floor’s wooden slats
had warped in places and separated.
Nick flipped the mattress over so that the underside was
up. “This side doesn’t look too bad.” He left his gear in the room.
They checked the room directly across the hallway. A decent enough mattress lay on the
floor. Heath walked over and kicked it
with the toe of his boot. “I don’t mind
sleeping on the floor. I can spread out
my bedroll right on top of it. It’s
sure softer than the ground would’ve been.”
“Come on, let’s put these keys back and see if we can
rustle up some wood for that fireplace downstairs.”
Heath put his saddlebags and bedroll on the mattress and
followed Nick back down the hallway to the stairs.
“What you doin’ up there, boys?” a voice called from the
lobby. The man looked up at them and
smiled. He was a middle-aged man,
somewhere in his fifties. He had a full
set of healthy teeth, though darkly stained.
The man spat a wad of tobacco juice on the floor.
“We’re just passing through and were looking for shelter
to spend the night.” Heath said.
“Yep, appears we’re in for some snow tonight.” the man
said.
The brothers descended the stairs. “We didn’t realize there was anybody left in
Delco. We heard the town was completely
abandoned.” Nick laid the extra keys on
the reception desk.
“The town is abandoned.
There are a few of us that live in the old Delco Mining Company
buildings that sit near the entrance of the mine. The street out front curves through a pass and the mining
compound is right there. You boys are
more than welcome to spend the night here in the hotel.” The man spat a dart of tobacco juice on the
floor again. “My name’s Zechariah
Grimes.” He held out his right
hand. “I saw you boys ride in. Fine looking string of horses you got there,
Mister…”
A pause hung in the air.
Heath didn’t bother to fill it.
“Heath.” he said simply as he shook Grimes’ hand. “This is my brother Nick.”
Nick nodded to the man.
It was obvious that no gun holster peeked out from beneath Zechariah’s
heavy coat. Yet, Nick could sense an
air of caution emanating from his younger brother.
If Zechariah noted the evasion, he didn’t let on. “Why don’t you boys come on out to the Delco
Mining buildings and have supper with us?”
His demeanor was friendly and enthusiastic. “We just had us a wedding this morning and the women folk are
planning something real special for supper!”
“We wouldn’t want to be any bother…” Heath began.
“Ain’t no bother!”
Zechariah smiled again. “Nobody
hardly ever passes through this old town anymore. The women would be plum tickled if you would join us. It’d make our celebration extra
special.” He spat on the floor and winked
his eye shrewdly. “I know for a fact
we’re having fried chicken, rice with gravy, and baked sweet potatoes. My wife Naomi is gonna open some of those
jars of string beans she put up this summer and cook ‘em. And Esther is gonna bake cornbread and a
pound cake that will purely melt in your mouth. How about it, boys? You
ain’t gonna get a better offer than that!”
Nick cleared his throat and glanced over at Heath. “You’re right about that, Mr. Grimes. Heath was planning on heating up some beans.”
“Beans is alright if you cain’t do no better.” Grimes
said. “But wait till you taste Naomi
and Esther’s supper. It’s southern
cooking at its finest!”
“We were just about to look around for some firewood, Mr.
Grimes.” Heath said.
“Call me Zechariah, boys.
There’s plenty of wood out behind the hotel. I’ll help you bring a load inside and then we’ll head on out to
the mining compound.”
The three men walked down the dirt road through the narrow
pass and around the bend to the deserted mine works. A ten foot high wood frame and wire fence surrounded the company
buildings and the entrance to the old mine at the base of the mountain.
Zechariah unlatched the gate and ushered the brothers
inside. He refastened the large gate
once they were in. “I wouldn’t want
Goliath to get out.” Zechariah said.
As if on cue, the hundred-pound mastiff bounded up to
Zechariah. He eyed the strangers warily
as the hair stood on end above his shoulders and a low growl rumbled in the big
dog’s throat. “Easy there, boy!” Zechariah said as he caught the dog by his
thick leather collar. “Just some
friends coming to have a bite of supper with us. You boys go on over to the house.” He pointed to one of the buildings. “I’m gonna tie the dog.”
Nick and Heath walked over to what had once been the mine
foreman’s house while Zechariah chained the mastiff. There were five other buildings within the compound: the Main
Office, the Assay Office and several storage buildings. All had benefited from recent repairs except
for the last storage building, which remained in a dilapidated state.
The brown withered remains of the past summer’s garden
plot stretched behind the house. The
residents had constructed a corral and a simple three-sided shelter for their
horses. An even simpler lean-to shelter
had been built for the milk cow that was staked out nearby. A small chicken coop appeared to be the only
other addition.
Zechariah hurried over to where Heath and Nick stood. He spit his entire plug of tobacco out by
the steps. “Naomi likes for me to git
rid of my chaw before I come in the house.
Come on boys, supper oughta be about ready!” He hurried up the steps and threw open the door. “Naomi!”
Nick and Heath followed Zechariah into the spacious front
room. There was a large rectangular
table with one of its legs balanced on a slab of wood to keep it from
wobbling. It was covered by a red and
white checked tablecloth and surrounded by eight ladder-back chairs.
“Shut that door!” Naomi shouted as she emerged from the
kitchen. “That cold wind is whipping
right through…” She paused at the sight of the two strangers.
Zechariah pushed the door shut and motioned to the
brothers with his thumb. “I brung some
company home for supper. This here’s
Nick and Heath.” He pointed to each in
turn.
Naomi wiped her hands on her apron. She had salt and pepper hair pulled into a
tight bun and a weatherworn face. She
was a stout woman, wide-hipped and large-breasted. Her brown eyes lit up as she smiled at the brothers. “Glad to have you! We hardly see any folks passing through up here anymore.”
“We appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Grimes.” Nick said
as both he and Heath politely removed their hats.
Another woman stood in the kitchen doorway. She lingered there as if to assess the situation. Her lustrous red hair was pulled back into a
long, neat braid and her sharp green eyes scanned the room.
“That’s Esther.” Zechariah offered. “Just wait till you taste her pound cake!”
Esther nodded a quick greeting and disappeared into the
kitchen.
“Take off your coats and sit down, younguns.” Naomi said.
The brothers did as she asked and sat down at the table
with Zechariah. “I’ll get you some hot
coffee while I get the table set.” Naomi said.
“The men should be coming up from the mine directly.”
“The mine?” Heath queried Zechariah. “Are you folks still working the old Delco
mine?”
“We surely do.” Zechariah replied. “It’s about played out, but we still manage
to mine enough gold to take down to San Andreas and buy our supplies.”
“How many people are still living up here?” Nick wanted to
know.
“There was eight of us made our way west right after the
war. We all came from the low country
of South Carolina and Georgia. There’s
me and my wife Naomi, Reuben and his wife Esther, and then there’s Seth, Jude,
Titus and, ah, Malachi.”
“So who are the newlyweds?” Heath smiled. “You said you had a wedding today.”
Naomi had returned from the kitchen with a large
tray. She slammed the tray down on the
table so hard that half of the fresh cream spilled from its small pitcher. Naomi cast an angry look at her husband who
either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“That would be Malachi and, uh, Martha.” Zechariah said as
he grabbed the bowl of snow-white sugar.
“Malachi met Martha since we been living up here.” Naomi
said as she poured each man a mug of hot black coffee. “He met her when the men were down in San
Andreas the last time.”
“It must have been love at first sight!” Nick shook his head. “It’d be pretty hard to try and court a girl
that far away.”
“Maybe so.” Naomi
hurried to finish setting the table.
“And even harder to talk her into moving up here.” Heath
said. The woman froze and he sensed a
sudden tension. Heath had not meant to
strike a nerve. “No offense, Mrs.
Grimes. I only meant I know how tough
it is to try to scratch out a living in a dead mining town.”
She smiled at him briefly, this time it did not reach her
eyes. “None taken, Heath.” Naomi said
and then she turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Zechariah had dumped the fourth heaping spoonful of sugar
into his coffee when the door swung open.
Three men hurried in out of the cold as the last to enter slammed the
door behind them. The first man in had
been reaching to unbutton his coat when he stopped at the sight of the
strangers. He was of medium height,
slightly heavy-set, with close-cropped black hair and gray eyes.
“That’s Reuben.”
Zechariah pointed. “That’s
Jude.” He motioned to the tall, wiry
man with greasy brown hair and a full, bushy beard. “And that’s Titus.” He
was a huge man. He had at least three
inches and a hundred pounds on Nick, Heath mused. Titus had a wide face with flat cheekbones, dull brown eyes and
his straight blond hair was worn in a bowl-shaped cut.
“This is Nick and Heath.”
Zechariah motioned with his spoon.
“They’re passing through and plan on holing up in the old hotel
tonight. I invited ‘em for supper.”
“Welcome.” Reuben said simply and he and Jude began
unbuttoning their coats. Titus was
slower to react.
“You just keep your coat on, Titus!” Naomi emerged from the kitchen carrying two
large baskets. Cloths covered the
contents, but they smelled of fried chicken and fixings. “This one goes to Malachi and Martha.” She spoke slow and deliberate as she handed
him the first basket. Two plates and
two upright forks wrapped in napkins were tucked against the side of the basket
and peeked out from under the cloth.
Naomi handed him the second basket.
“You eat with Seth tonight.”
Heath watched Titus’ strong hand wrap around the second
basket handle. His fingers were the
size of large cigars. Heath noticed
Naomi had packed clean plates and forks in the second basket as well. He noticed something else – there were four
of each.
Naomi held the door open for Titus while he carefully
eased out sideways through the doorframe.
She disappeared into the kitchen and quickly reappeared with a large
platter of fried chicken. Esther was
right behind her carrying a bowl of rice.
The two went back and forth until they had covered the table with the
evening’s fare.
Esther added the final dish – one half of her pound cake –
to the table. Naomi took her by the
arm. “Esther and I are gonna eat our
supper in the kitchen. It’ll give you
men folks a chance to socialize.”
Reuben watched Naomi lead his wife back into the kitchen
and glanced briefly at the guests. “Let
us pray.” He bowed his head. “Thank you for this bountiful provision,
Lord, and protect your Remnant from the coming storm. Amen.”
When the prayer was finished, the three hosts made a quick
grab for the nearest bowls. Hands moved
in syncopation, grabbing and scooping.
Nick looked over at Heath to gage his reaction to the
orgy. Heath sat watching Nick with an
amused expression on his face. When their
eyes met, Heath mouthed the word ‘beans’.
Nick glared at his brother and his eyes hardened with resolve. That was all it took for Nick to wade into
the fray. He beat Zechariah to the
platter of chicken. Nick helped himself
and then passed the platter to Heath.
Heath flashed a crooked smile.
“Thank you, Big Brother. Keep
‘em coming.”
It was apparent from the beginning of the meal that the
hosts were not interested in conversation.
They shoveled down their supper like they were starving men, never
uttering a word. Their breathing was
loud and slobbery. After the cake plate
was cleaned, they sat back in contentment.
Reuben remained silent, his expression solemn and
guarded. Jude had relaxed. He glanced at the visitors and grinned. His bushy beard parted to reveal the rotten
yellow stumps that remained of his teeth.
“Mmmm! What did I
tell you boys?” Zechariah sighed and
rubbed his stomach. “Better than those
beans ya’ll were gonna have, I betcha!”
“That’d be a safe bet any day of the week, Mr.
Grimes.” Nick nodded in agreement. “You weren’t exaggerating. Everything was delicious. One thing about being on the trail with
Heath is you learn to appreciate good cooking.”
Heath raised an eyebrow at the last comment. “I think I’ll go outside and have a
smoke. Thanks again for the
supper. Be sure and give the ladies my
compliments.”
Heath donned his coat and hat and walked out onto the
porch. He smiled at the thought of
leaving Nick alone to try and make small talk with the miners. Serves him right, he thought. Heath watched the wind whip tiny flakes of
snow. The light, intermittent flurries
heralded the very beginning of the approaching storm. Just a quick smoke and he’d let Nick know they’d better make
their way back to the hotel.
Heath sprinkled an even line of tobacco onto a paper. He rolled the cigarette and licked the edge
of the paper to seal it. Heath’s movements were deliberate and unhurried. He struck a sulfur match and lit his
smoke. Beyond the weak blaze, he again
noted a slight movement of the curtain. Heath took a drag off the cigarette and
continued his smoke nonchalantly, but there was no mistake. Someone was watching him from the old Assay
Office.
Chapter
4
Darkness came down over the land early as Nick and Heath
made their way back to the hotel. The
temperature had dropped perceptibly.
They turned their collars up to the wind and walked in silence. Fine flakes of snow stung their faces. The wind grew steady, where before it had
been gusty and constantly changing direction, now it came consistently from the
north. By the time the men reached the
hotel, the snow no longer came in flurries, but had settled down to a continual
fall.
Nick and Heath walked past the reception desk dusting the
snow off their coats toward what had once been the hotel’s Sitting Room. An orange glow still flickered in the
fireplace from the roaring fire they had started before leaving. The warmth of the old Sitting Room enveloped
them and drew them pleasantly inside.
Nick knelt by the hearth and began to feed the waning fire
from the stack of firewood. The dry
wood crackled and popped as flames licked up between and around the logs. Nick rocked back on his heels, satisfied
with the growing blaze.
“You know, this is the warmest room in the hotel. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”
Heath stretched his long arms toward the fire. “I was thinking the same thing, Nick. We could drag those mattresses from upstairs
and bed down in here.”
Nick smiled. “I don’t
reckon the management would object. So
what are we waiting for?”
Nick and Heath settled into the soft pallets they had made
on the floor near the hearth. The wind
moaned outside the hotel, but the structure itself was still. It was a solid building – no creaking, no
drafts. The only sound was the pleasant
crackle emanating from the fireplace like a lullaby.
Nick pushed the heavy wool blanket down below his waist,
suddenly overly warm. He turned over on
his side and propped himself up on an elbow.
Heath was snuggled down under his blanket with his eyes closed. The rise and fall of his chest was even and
slow. Nick watched the firelight’s glow
flicker and dance across his younger brother’s features and harvest blond
hair. Another type of warmth, fierce
and strong, welled up deep within him.
The good Lord sure does work in mysterious ways, Nick mused as he
thought back on the day that his brother rode up to the Barkley’s doorstep. A broad smile broke out on Nick’s face. Hasher my foot, he thought. Suddenly the smile disappeared. Nick cleared his throat.
“Hey, Heath? Are
you asleep?” he asked softly.
“Uh-huh.” Heath
didn’t open his eyes.
“No, you’re not!”
“Then why’d you ask?”
Heath looked over at Nick whose face had become a study in
concentration. “What’s the matter,
Nick?”
“There’s something I just thought of that I want to ask
you about… something you said that first day you rode into the ranch.”
Heath rolled over on his stomach so he could easily look
his brother in the eye. “Sure, Nick.”
“It’s about the jobs you said you’d had. I’ve seen for myself you can do most
anything, but I still can’t believe some outfit actually paid you to do the
cooking.”
“Go to sleep, Nick!”
Heath growled and started to roll back to his former position.
“Wait a minute!
That ain’t what my question is about.
You said you’d been a jingler.
What’s that?”
A hint of a crooked smile played on Heath’s mouth. “Jingler may not mean anything around here,
but back in New Mexico, everybody would know whose outfit you’d been working
with.”
“And whose outfit is that?” Nick’s interest was piqued.
“Mr. Chisum’s.”
“John Chisum?”
Nick was stunned.
“The one and only.” Heath replied.
“John Chisum runs the largest spread in the west!”
“It’s probably the largest spread in the world, Nick! Eighty thousand head of cattle. With a herd that size, rustling was a real
problem. Mr. Chisum came up with a
distinctive brand – the Long Rail – and what he called his jinglebob
earmark. We made a long slit down the
full length of the cow’s ear so the lower part of the ear flopped down. The earmark was quick to make and you could
identify one of Mr. Chisum’s cows at a considerable distance. A rustler might be able to hide a brand, but
there was no mistaking a cow that had been jinglebobbed. A few of us boys started calling ourselves
‘jinglers’ and the name stuck.”
“How did you come to work for Chisum?”
“I showed up on his doorstep and asked for a job!” Heath smiled at the recollection. “I had spent a few months recovering in
Strawberry after I was released from the Army hospital. During that time I decided I wanted to be a
cowpoke and I wasn’t going to waste my time on some smalltime two-bit ranch. So I headed on down to the Chisum
Ranch. I was just sixteen, still about
thirty or forty pounds too light, and knew next to nothing about being a
cowboy!”
“Don’t tell me you told him you were an experienced
cowhand!” Nick grinned.
“Naw. Mr. Chisum
took one look at me and knew I was green.
He said he couldn’t use me but that I looked like I could use a good
meal before I moved on. He asked me in
for a bite to eat. Pretty soon he was
asking me questions about my background.
I answered them straight enough.
I didn’t figure there was any point hiding anything since he wasn’t
going to hire me anyway. I told him I’d
had plenty of experience working the mines and then about my stint as a
sharpshooter in the Union Army. I
didn’t think that would win me any points since Mr. Chisum had supplied beef to
the Confederacy. But, by the end of the
meal, he had a change of heart and decided to take a chance on me.”
Nick nodded knowingly.
“I’m not surprised he hired you once he found out you were a crack
shot. I hear Chisum has more than a
hundred hands tending his cattle and another crew of at least fifty well-armed
cowboys who not only work the herd, but also defend against any trouble.”
Heath’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed. “There was plenty of trouble to defend
against in Lincoln County and I saw my share of it!” His face darkened with memories he wasn’t ready to recount. “Like I said Nick, there was plenty of
rustling and lawlessness in New Mexico.
I believed in a man’s right to protect his cattle and to graze the
open-range and I was willing to fight for it!”
Heath paused and took a deep breath.
“I owe Mr. Chisum an awful lot, Nick.
He taught me everything I know about ranching. In ’67, he went into partnership with Mr. Goodnight. There weren’t two finer men I could’ve asked
to work for.”
“So why did you leave?”
“Mama’s health was starting to fail.” Heath’s voice was tinged with sadness. “Mr. Chisum understood I needed to find work
closer to home. But he told me there
would always be a job there waiting if I wanted to come back. Before I left, he gave me the custom-made
Mexican rifle that caught your eye.”
Nick emitted a low whistle. “The man must have thought quite a lot of you, Little Brother!”
“Maybe so. I sure
thought a lot of him.” Heath smiled
briefly and then his expression grew pensive.
“I went from odd job to odd job after that. I’d venture farther away if Mama seemed to be getting along all
right. When they sent word that she was
dying, I quit my job and headed straight home.
I had decided if she did pass, I would go back to Bosque Grande. I never figured on her telling me about my
father…”
“I’m sure grateful she did, Heath.” Nick locked eyes with his brother. “John Chisum’s loss was the Barkley family’s
gain.”
Heath smiled and shook his head. “Boy howdy, Nick, that sure ain’t the tune you were singing that
first night!”
Nick swiped at the blond head playfully. “Well, I’m singing it now, ain’t I? Didn’t I just show it by buying you the best
horse in the whole damn state?”
“You show me every day, Nick, every day.”
Heath smiled, his expression beatific. His blue eyes shone with a deep and
heart-felt appreciation. Except for one
all too brief period, his life had been devoid of a strong, male role
model. Heath had grown up needing his
father’s guidance, his father’s protection… his father’s love. That was not to be. He looked deep inside in the days following
his mother’s death and then set out to fulfill his heart’s desire. A name, a heritage, a part of it all…
Yet Heath had felt as though he was watching something
perfect and beautiful, and he was not a part of it. They were a family. As
long as Nick rejected him, Heath would feel like an outsider. When Nick had finally given him acceptance,
respect and love – no one had ever given him such a gift! The priceless gift of family.
It was uncanny the way that Nick seemed to be able to read
his brother’s thoughts. During those
first turbulent months, he had erected a wall between himself and the
newcomer. Nick lived by his own philosophy:
if the boy was unobtrusive and worked hard, then maybe he’d let Heath stay
on. As though that was all he
deserved! Heath deserved so much more! The best of everything! His brother was a man of great character and
worth. It saddened Nick that because of
the circumstances of Heath’s birth, he had lived a life where he wasn’t treated
that way. During that dark, stormy
night when he feared that he had lost his brother forever, Nick had finally
opened his heart. The look in Heath’s
eyes assured Nick that his vow had indeed been kept. Heath knew what was in his heart. No gold, no silver, no rare jewel would have ever been enough for
his little brother. He would pay any
price…
The sound of the howling winds rushed up in their ears as
the hotel’s front door was flung open.
A sudden draft of sharp cold wind chilled the room.
In a seamless flash of movement, the men were out of their
bedrolls with guns in hand. Nick was
first to take up a defensive position behind the doorjamb. Heath saw the taut muscles of Nick’s back
and shoulders relax as Nick lowered his gun.
He stepped up beside his brother and peered out into the lobby.
She closed the door and leaned back against it for a
moment, suddenly realizing how horribly cold she was. Esther shuffled toward the flickering firelight of the Sitting
Room. Her gait was stiff from the chill
in her legs and her hands were numb with cold.
She stopped when she saw their forms silhouetted in the doorway. Snow lay white on her shiny red hair and her
face was wet where melted snowflakes had mingled with her tears.
“Help me… please, help me!”
Chapter
5
She was shivering uncontrollably. Nick led Esther over to his pallet near the
fire and helped her sit down. He gently
wrapped their woolen blankets around her shoulders. Heath had busied himself making a pot of hot coffee to help warm
her. He looked back over his shoulder
at Nick and the woman. There was an
ominous mix of sadness and terror in the dazed green eyes.
Esther sat in silence for a long while, huddled under the
blankets, sipping the steaming coffee and warming slowly. She felt her strength flowing back as her
body temperature rose. The brothers sat
on Heath’s pallet, quietly watching her.
She handed the empty cup back to Heath.
“Would you like another cup, Ma’am?” Genuine concern was in the blond’s soft
drawl.
Esther dropped her eyes and shook her head.
Nick glanced at Heath for a moment and then went
purposefully to the heart of the matter.
“What in the world were you doing out there wandering around on a night
like this?”
Esther’s eyes brimmed with tears as despair settled down
over her. “He’s killed her,” she
whispered.
“WHAT?” Nick
wasn’t sure he had heard her right.
“Somebody was killed?”
“Yes!” Esther averred.
“Martha.” She looked from one
stunned and confused face to the other.
“It’s true! Zechariah came to
our cabin tonight and asked to speak with Reuben alone. I pretended I was going on to bed, but I
kept the door cracked and listened in on what Zechariah had to say. He told Reuben that Martha was dead. Naomi was going to clean up the assay shack
while he and Reuben took care of the burial.
I… I snuck out as soon as they left.
You are the only ones who can help now.”
“But why would a groom kill his bride on their…” Heath
began.
“Malachi does anything he pleases.” Esther
interjected. “And the others must do
whatever Malachi tells them to do if they want to be part of the ‘Remnant’.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“Perhaps… perhaps, I should start at the beginning so you
can understand how we… why we…” Esther stared into the flames with distant,
haunted eyes. “You have to understand
how terrible the war was for us, to have your homeland become a
battlefield! Life was unbelievably
hard. All the able-bodied men were off
fighting. It only left the women,
children and elderly to try and coax a little food out of the ground. And the disabled… Reuben had been sent home
from his regiment very ill with the typhus.
There was always hunger and shortages of everything! And then, Sherman came through. The Union soldiers took what little we did
have and razed everything in their wake.
Life as we’d always known it was gone.
It seemed like the end of the world.”
She paused and hugged the blankets tighter around
her. “When we were at our most
desperate, Malachi came through with his little band of followers heading
west. Reuben was so taken with Malachi! He genuinely believed Malachi was the ‘Last
Days’ prophet and that Malachi had the answers to the suffering and despair
that was all around us. Malachi claimed
to know the true interpretation of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!”
Esther took a deep shuddering breath. “He… he said the rider of the white horse –
the rider that is given a crown and a bow, who seemed good but who had really
come to kill and conquer – was Abraham Lincoln. The rider on the red horse had the power to take peace away and
cause men to kill one another. Malachi
said the red horse represented the Civil War.
The rider on the black horse came next.
In his hand were the scales holding a tiny measure of wheat. Malachi said the black horseman had brought
famine and starvation. Everything
seemed just as he said! Malachi warned
us that the final horseman would soon make his appearance. He would bring pestilence, destruction and
plagues. The rider of the pale horse is
Death and Hell follows with him!”
“Esther,” Heath said gently, “the war has been over for
years. There haven’t been any plagues
or widespread death. Reconstruction has
rebuilt the South…”
“Malachi has an explanation for that.” she said
solemnly. “He says a remnant will
survive: those who have followed him.
This remnant is to repopulate the earth. The Pale Horseman will not come until the Remnant is safely in
their place of refuge.”
“So how long do you plan to hide out up here in Delco,
waiting for this, ah, pale horse?”
Nick’s eyebrows furrowed, giving him the appearance of being skeptical
of anything he was about to be told.
“I should have left long ago.” Esther sighed. “I’ve
stayed on for my husband’s sake. In our
private moments, I have tried to make Reuben see Malachi as he truly is… to see
his madness! But Reuben is so caught up
in Malachi’s teachings that he’d do anything for him. So would the others. I… I
just can’t believe my husband took part in the kidnapping of those three
girls!”
“He did what?”
Nick’s hazel eyes flared as his brother’s went to steel blue.
“Zechariah came to fetch Reuben to a meeting Malachi had
called. He said Malachi had been given
another revelation. I don’t know what
Malachi told them, but Reuben, Jude and Seth left early the next morning. They were gone for weeks. When they returned, they had the girls. I’ve wanted to help them escape, I really
have! But they’re being kept locked in
one of the storage buildings with Seth guarding them day and night. Naomi always insists on going with me to
take the girls their meals. How could I
have known what Malachi was going to do?
Poor Rosa!”
“I thought you said the dead girl’s name was Martha.” Nick
said.
“No, it was Rosa.
Rosa Sanchez. Malachi has had
such control over us all that he even changed our names. Mine is Ellen. Ellen Davis.” she stated resolutely. “I will tell you everything I know about Malachi, uh, Martin
Murphy and the lay-out of the mining compound.
I can help you get in and get the other girls out. Please help me get Magnolia and Annie far
away from this God-forsaken place!”
She was to have been mother to an entire race, the fount
from which the brown-skinned peoples would continue to flow in a
post-apocalyptic world. Malachi let the
large bloodied rock drop from his hands.
It was a chunk of iron pyrite – Fool’s Gold – that had been left behind
when the assay office had been abandoned.
It was impure, worthless – just like his father had told him he was…
just like the whore who had given him the sores.
The voices in his head told him something very
different. The clock of world history
was winding down. Every genuine prophet
is called when he is most acutely needed.
It was to Malachi the voices had chosen to speak, not his Methodist
minister father. He had been the worthy
one – the Chosen one.
The voices had finally revealed to him why the Pale
Horseman had yet to appear. Noah, his
wife, their sons Shem, Ham and Japheth and their wives – eight souls – had been
saved from the flood in which the ungodly perished. The three young, postdiluvian couples were to be fruitful and
multiply… Malachi’s little remnant was
to do the same following the coming judgment.
And yet, no children had been born to them. Naomi was past childbearing and Esther had remained barren these
many years. Malachi had once heard that
according to ancient oral traditions, Shem and his brown-skinned wife were the
progenitors of the Middle and Far-eastern peoples; through Ham and his
dark-skinned wife had come the Africans and through Japheth and his
fair-skinned wife, the Europeans.
Another revelation had been given to him. Malachi was to take not one bride, but
three! The men had obediently followed
his instructions and brought three girls back to Remnant. Malachi had given them each a new name. Magnolia Pearson, a Black girl of just
fifteen, was now Sarah. The sixteen
year-old White girl, Annie Blake, would henceforth be known as Ruth. Rosa Sanchez, he had called Martha.
Martha… She was
eighteen years old and Malachi had chosen to take her as his first bride. She should have been honored and grateful,
for to be brought to Remnant was to be saved from the Wrath to come. Malachi touched his smarting cheek. She had raked his face and neck with her
nails and yet the deep scratches had not stung him nearly as much as her
words. Loco, she had called him, ‘El
Loco Diablo’.
His rage had been long spent when Titus had appeared on
his doorstep. He had thought to send
Titus to fetch Zechariah until Titus had told him of the arrival of the two
strangers. The task would have to wait
until the strangers had left the compound.
Malachi beckoned Zechariah and Reuben into the Assay
Office, the building he had chosen as his home before assigning the others
their respective living quarters. Naomi
was already there, on hands and knees, scrubbing the bloodstained floor. She had covered the bludgeoned body of Rosa
Sanchez with a blanket.
It appeared as though the violent struggle had begun in
the bedroom and ended here. Reuben
thought of how Malachi’s mood swings had begun to frighten his wife more and
more. Why did this girl have to
die? It made no sense to him. Malachi’s demeanor made no sense. He was cheerful, as if nothing had
happened. He was smiling and at ease.
“Bury her far outside the camp.” Malachi gestured toward the body. Reuben stood numbed by the gruesome scene. Malachi looked deep into his troubled
eyes. “It is not given to you to know
all that I know, Reuben. Do you
remember in the Book of Daniel, that only the prophet could interpret what was
written on the wall by that ghostly hand?
It said ‘Thou art weighed in the balances, and art found wanting’. The king was slain that very night,
Reuben. Judgment is swift, and judgment
is sure! Take away the unworthy one.”
Malachi’s smile was serene. He remained innocent, his sacred vestments angelically pure.
Chapter
6
The scenery was spectacular this morning, though Nick and
Heath hardly noticed it. The air had
been washed clean and a pristine blanket of snow covered everything in
sight. The low-hanging clouds of
yesterday were gone and the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada stood
visible in all their grandeur. The
large flakes of snow that fell silently through the long night had ceased
before dawn.
Nick urged Coco on through the foot of freshly fallen snow
as they climbed the road leaving Delco.
As the lead horse, Coco had the difficult task of cutting the trail
through the snow. The string of mares
trudged behind him. The two horses
bringing up the rear could move through the trail the others had cut through
the mantel of white.
The narrow trail they had followed up from the Mokelumne
was no longer visible. Nick picked his
way carefully through the deep snow until they were safely down the slope and
at the river’s edge. Nick and Heath
tied their horses amid the cover of the trees and waited. She needed ample time to carry out the plans
within the compound.
Ellen felt lucky.
Many factors were playing in her favor.
She had made it home undetected before Reuben had arrived. He had not come to bed. Had he done so, he might have noticed that
her hair was damp and her hands and feet were ice-cold. He had sat by the hearth, staring into the
fire until dawn. If Malachi had allowed
alcohol in Remnant, she was sure Reuben could have used a stiff drink. At daybreak, he had departed for a long day
of work in the mine.
It was providential that snowfall was not an impediment
for the miners to continue their work.
Regardless of the season or conditions, the temperature remained about
fifty-five degrees year-round deep within the mineshaft. Zechariah, after he had spied on the
strangers leaving town, had joined the other men in the mine.
It was also fortunate that Naomi had no real desire to
wade through the snow. She appeared
tired, her unnaturally wan complexion contrasting with the dark circles beneath
her eyes. It had not been difficult to
convince Naomi that there was no need for both of them to make the arduous
trek. The women had fixed a large
basket of sandwiches. Ellen would make
the trip alone to drop off the miners’ food.
She would deliver Malachi’s lunch and then finish up her task at the
building where Seth was guarding the girls.
Goliath trotted along beside Ellen. The big mastiff’s attention was fixed on the
basket she carried. The dog hated
everyone in the world except Zechariah.
He merely tolerated the rest of the little band. Goliath passed his days wandering the
perimeter of the fence or lying beneath Zechariah and Naomi’s porch, hoping
some outsider would pass through the gate and challenge his teeth. The dog’s ever-ravenous appetite played
right into Ellen’s plan. He would wolf
down anything put in front of him seemingly without either chewing or tasting
it. The dog would follow her anywhere
for a morsel of food.
Ellen opened the door to the unused, dilapidated storage
building. She walked in and unwrapped a
large piece of cornbread she had also packed in her basket. “Come on, Goliath. Come on in, boy.” The dog
eyed the cornbread, licked his jowls greedily and stepped inside. Ellen closed the door behind them.
Ellen walked through the heavy beams of timber that framed
the entrance of the mine. An old rusty
tramcar sat askew, its wheels off the rails.
She could still make out the word ‘Delco’ painted on its side. Ellen picked up an iron rod, rapped the tram
sharply several times and waited. She
peered into the pitch black interior of the mine and shivered.
Ellen had once talked Reuben into taking her deep into the
mine soon after they had settled here.
She had romanticized the underground, thinking it would be cavernous and
eerily beautiful. Instead, the tunnel
felt ominously crypt-like, its dimensions too confining. The air was very dry and somewhat dusty. The men chewed tobacco while they worked to
keep their mouths wet. But most
disconcerting was the sound in the bowels of the mine – it was deadly silent.
She heard his footsteps echo through the mineshaft and
then saw the light from his lantern.
When Reuben emerged from a curving tunnel, Ellen was waiting near the
mine entrance, wrapped in a heavy wool coat.
“I’ve brought your lunches,” she said.
Reuben looked past her.
“Where’s Naomi?”
“She seems very tired today so I told her to stay at the
house.” Ellen glanced sideways at
him. “I don’t think she got any sleep
last night.” She took a bag stuffed
with sandwiches from the basket and handed it to Reuben. “I’ve still got to drop off food for Malachi
and the others.” Ellen turned to go.
“Wait!” Reuben said hastily. “Maybe… maybe I should walk you back.”
Ellen paused and studied her husband’s grime-covered face
for a moment. She looked deep in his
eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Reuben said, a defensive edge to his
voice. “Nothing is wrong, Esther!”
“Then there’s no need for you to walk me back.” Ellen said
insistently. “The men are waiting,
Reuben.”
Ellen left Malachi’s sandwiches on a table in the front
room and eased out the door as the sound of his soft snores drifted from the
back room. She took a deep breath,
relieved that Malachi slept. Could she
have looked into those disturbing eyes and hid her utter loathing of him? Could she have kept up her facade of
normality knowing what had transpired the day before? “Your luck’s still running, Ellen…” she whispered to herself as
she descended the steps of the Assay Office.
There was only Seth left to deal with. He wasn’t nearly as big as his brother
Titus, but he had a sturdy, mountain-boy build. Seth would be hungry.
Ellen was a woman who knew herself and the men around her. She knew that Seth had hungered for her a
long time though he’d never done anything out of the way. He was waiting. Waiting and hoping that someday Ellen might grow cold toward
Reuben and make room in her heart for him.
She felt nothing for Seth and had never given him the slightest sign
that she did. Would he be suspicious of
her sudden interest? No, Ellen
decided. Seth would think about how and
where and when, but he couldn’t care less about the why.
“I’m here with lunch, Seth.” Ellen said casually as she
closed the front door.
“Took you long enough!” Seth teased. “Where’s Naomi?”
“No need for both of us to be out tromping through the
snow.” Ellen said as she placed the basket on the table where he sat. “It’s just me today, if that’s alright.”
“That’s just fine by me.”
His face reddened, as it was prone to do whenever she was near.
“I was hoping you’d say that, Seth.” Ellen whispered as
she leaned in close to him and stroked her fingers through his hair. She seemed to undress him with those jade
green eyes and her Cupid’s-bow lips curved into a seductive smile. “I’m gonna give the girls their sandwiches
and I’ll be right back.”
Seth fumbled through his pockets and dug out the key. Ellen took it from his trembling
fingers. “I think I can manage to
unlock the door on my own.” She strode over
to the locked room.
Seth watched her unlock the door and disappear into the
room, closing the door behind her. He
pumped his fist into the air and then tried to slick back his blond hair with
his fingers. Seth paced the floor, too
nervous to eat now. He was too
preoccupied when she emerged to notice Ellen had failed to relock the door to
the small room. She sauntered over to
where he stood and handed him the key.
Ellen gave him her best plaintive look. “Me and Reuben have been going through a rough
patch, Seth. He’s been treating me
mighty bad at home and…” she hesitated as if it suddenly dawned on her that
they weren’t really alone. “The walls
of that room are like paper. Do you
mind if we stepped out back and talked a bit?”
Seth glanced out the window toward the Assay Office. “The girls will be fine.” Ellen said. “Their door is locked and besides,” she
lied, “Goliath is sitting right outside the front door.”
Seth had dreamt of the day when Esther might feel
something for him. It was not simply because she was the only woman in the
group close to his age – Esther was stunning.
It was obvious that she had been a great beauty in her youth, and she
still was. According to Malachi, he
wasn’t to even think about a woman and yet…
It might be a sin, but Seth had longed for this woman for years. He was willing and ready to offer any form
of comfort she would accept. Neither
Malachi nor Reuben need ever know.
“Come on!” Seth said eagerly. He took Ellen by the arm and ushered her to the back door. Seth undid the latch and swung the heavy
door outward, letting Ellen lead the way.
Just as Seth stepped out the door, Nick brought the butt of his rifle
down like an axe across his head.
Seth’s unconscious body crumpled against the rear wall of the old
storage building.
Ellen didn’t flinch at the violence. “Hurry!” she said without hesitation. “They’re in here!”
Nick and Heath followed her into the building. Ellen turned the doorknob, eased the door
open and beckoned the occupants of the room. “Maggie? Annie? Come on out. It’s alright.”
Annie Blake and Magnolia Pearson stepped tentatively out
of the room, their hands tightly clasped.
They had put on their coats as they had been told to do. The girls had dared to hope that this was
not part of some ruse, that the woman they knew as Esther was telling them the
truth. They quickly scanned the
interior of the building. There were
two cowboys with Esther – strangers to their eyes. But there was no sign of any of the men who had taken them by
physical force. And there was no sign
of the one called Malachi.
Annie smiled. She
was dark-haired, with vivid green eyes and a heart-shaped face. Her nose was small and slightly
up-turned. Dimples rippled in Annie’s
cheeks as she realized Esther had indeed found help.
Magnolia peered out from behind Annie. She was small at about five feet, her
complexion café au lait, her lips full.
Maggie’s walnut-colored eyes remained cautious and full of suspicion.
“This is Nick and Heath.
They are going to get you away from here and see that you both get back
to your homes.” Ellen assured
them. The four exited the back door and
passed the still out-cold Seth.
“Wait! What about
Rosa?” Annie asked.
Ellen’s eyes welled and a lone tear trickled down her cheek. She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Ellen said. “Malachi…” she couldn’t finish. “Hurry!
He’s liable to wake up anytime now and start wandering around. I don’t want to see the girls caught in the
middle of any trouble.”
“As soon as we get to San Andreas, we’ll send the sheriff
and a posse back up here.” Heath said.
Nick clenched and unclenched his fingers. “You could still go with us too, Ellen.”
“I told you I wouldn’t leave my husband.” Ellen
replied. “Do it, Nick. Please!” she implored. A black-gloved fist slammed Ellen on the
high point of a perfect cheekbone and knocked her backward against the
wall.
“Let’s go!” Nick said.
The foursome made their way to where the horses were tied
beyond the gate of the mining compound’s enclosure.
“Do you girls know how to ride?” Heath asked.
Annie nodded her head vigorously. “I… I cain’t…” Magnolia stammered.
“You’re about to learn, Maggie.” Heath replied. “Come on, Annie.” Heath helped the girl mount his small Modoc mare. “Now you, Maggie.” He lifted the tiny Black girl and settled her
in to ride double with Annie. “This
horse is as gentle as summer rain and she’s sure-footed.” Heath said
soothingly. “Just relax, keep your
weight balanced in the center and hold on tight, Maggie!”
Heath’s attention moved to his brother. “I think we ought to stick to the main road,
Nick. It’d be safer traveling for them
if we avoid the back trails. We can put
the girls out front with you and me riding behind them.”
Nick nodded.
“Yeah… a kind of buffer if those men try to follow us.”
“You take Charger and the two broodmares and ride behind
the girls. I’ll bring up the rear on
the other mare.” Heath began to untie
the lead line of the newly purchased mare that wasn’t carrying a foal.
Nick scowled at his younger brother. “Heath, you heard Hank say that mare is
barely green-broke!”
“Yeah, and I also heard him say the two broodmares and the
stallion weren’t broke at all. Coco
won’t hold up carrying both of us through knee-deep snow.” Heath observed.
“She may be hard to handle…”
Heath flashed a brief hint of his crooked smile. “I’m betting her herd instinct will make her
just want to keep with the other horses.
And I ain’t planning on trying to stop her.” His blue eyes narrowed and locked Nick with a cutter gaze. “No matter what happens behind you, Nick,
don’t stop until you get those two girls to San Andreas.”
Heath tied each end of the lead rope to one of the metal
rings on either side of the mare’s halter.
He figured he would be able to easily pull her head in either way to
guide her direction. Heath wouldn’t
have much leverage to stop the mare, but like he’d told Nick, he didn’t plan
to. “Get going so this mare gets it in
her head she wants to follow!”
“Go ahead, Annie.” Nick instructed. The girl neck-reined the mare toward the
abandoned town and nudged the horse into a gentle canter with the ease of an
experienced rider.
Nick had seen a similar look of resolve on Heath’s face
many a time. “Don’t fall behind, Boy!”
he said simply. Nick’s liver chestnut
horse lunged into motion pulling the string of three along when Nick’s spurs
raked his sides.
The mare’s head shot up and her ears stood erect as she
watched her familiar stable-mates head off without her. Heath gently patted the roan’s withers. “Ready to catch ‘em, girl?” The horse tossed its head and pawed the
snowy ground as if ready to fly to the chase.
Heath swung up on her bare back as she whinnied to the retreating
horses.
The mare snorted and spun in her surprise. Heath dug his heels in the mare’s sides and
pulled her head around until she had completed a three hundred-sixty degree
spin. He clucked to her and the mare
plunged forward.
The sound of a horse’s soft nicker drifted from the direction
of the gate. Naomi pulled back her
kitchen curtain and strained to see through a clear spot on the
hoarfrost-covered window.
Chapter
7
The main road lay under nearly twelve inches of snow. The sun had made an appearance mid-morning
and a brief thaw came, but the partially melted snow refroze under once again
clouded skies. The empty buildings of
Delco were hung with icicles and snowdrifts arched up against their walls. Somewhere back in the Delco Mining compound,
the old metal alarm bell tolled with urgency.
Beyond the town, snow and frost turned the trees into
cascades and towers of silver lace. The
icy crust covering the soft snow crunched loudly with each fall of the horses’
hooves.
Nick glanced back to see Heath’s roan mare following hard
behind the other five horses, trailing their lead. He reined Coco back to a canter and allowed the young mare to
draw close to them. Nick could tell by
the flare of her nostrils that she was breathing hard.
“Whatcha slowing down for?” Heath called.
“Nothing.” Nick replied.
“Then quit burning daylight!” Heath retorted.
Nick felt the sting of cold on his teeth and realized he
was smiling. “Hee-ah!” He urged Coco and his string of horses to a
gallop. Up ahead, the swift,
nimble-footed Indian pony was setting a fast pace. Nick could see Maggie holding on for dear life even as Annie’s
heels were flailing the sides of the Modoc, beseeching the animal to run
faster.
The larger horses had lost ground to the smaller Indian pony
as her hooves pounded the snow-covered road.
Every muscle in the mare’s body strained as she and her two riders
disappeared over the slope, like a ship over the curve of the sea. As the black mare galloped past the steep
precipice of Rim Rock Cliffs, the sharp crack of shifting ice reverberated
through the thin mountain air.
Nick and the string of horses thundered past the
Cliffs. The young roan mare was
gathering speed in pursuit. Heath felt
the strength of her bare back pulsing beneath him and her shoulder muscles
pumped in hard ripples under his knees.
It was sudden and unexpected: the ball of snow and ice
that caromed down Rim Rock Cliffs and across the road in front of the
roan. Heath felt the mare shift her
weight back as she locked her knees to skid to a halt. He braced himself, but the mare’s response
still nearly slung him off her back.
Another chunk of snow tumbled past and the roan spun in her panic. Heath slewed sidewise as the working of her
powerful body threatened to unseat him. With one hand wound into the mare’s mane, Heath pulled himself
back into position where his knees had their grip.
It was Maggie, who had kept glancing back wide-eyed and
fearful, who let go with one hand to motion furiously behind them. She shouted in Annie’s ear, and Annie began
to rein the Modoc to a stop.
One glance over his shoulder, and Nick knew his brother
was in trouble. He looked up ahead at
the girls. “Keep riding and don’t
stop!” he barked the order in a fierce tone that dared no disobedience. Nick jerked back on Coco’s reins and then
swung his horses around.
The young roan stood stock-still in fear. She snorted nervously and Heath could feel
her body quivering beneath him. He
spoke to her softly and tried to nudge her forward. Another piece of icy crust slid to the bottom of the precipice
and shattered on the road. The mare
reared and whirled once more. Heath
slid from her back and held firmly to the lines as the roan shied backward.
“Whoa, girl!”
Heath got the nervous animal to stop and slipped the lines over her
head. He realized he would have to lead
the young horse past the Cliffs.
Heath cast a wary eye up at the steep south-facing
slope. The wind out of the north during
last night’s snowstorm had whipped the soft snow into a curling cap. From Heath’s vantage point, the
snow-blanketed slope appeared convex, like the crest of a tidal wave frozen on
an ocean of white.
“Come on, girl.” Heath said softly. “Let’s get out of here nice and quiet.” He walked the mare through the trail already
compacted by the other horses. Heath
looked up the trail to see Nick dismounted with Coco’s reins in hand standing
just beyond Rim Rock’s edge. He
narrowed his eyes in irritation and was met with a no-give hazel stare in
return. Heath almost smiled at the
irony. Here he was beneath a steep
snow-covered slope, a weakened layer in the snow cover and the loudest man he
knew not more than thirty yards away.
Nick watched his brother leading the mare gingerly past
the unstable slope. He saw the momentary
consternation flash across Heath’s face.
Any other place or any other circumstance, Nick would have shouted to
his hard-headed brother right then, loud and clear: I never agreed to leave you
and I don’t intend to… come hell or high water!
The sharp crack of a large slab of snow shifting rang out
overhead. Two heads snapped in the
direction of the ominous sound. It was
the final straw for the jittery roan and she bolted, snatching herself from
Heath’s grip. The slab tore free,
breaking up and charging down the slope like a dense cloud.
“Heath!” The
thundering din of the avalanche drowned out Nick’s cry.
The fast-moving layer of snow overtook Heath. He was swept off his feet and carried along
by the unrelenting tide. Heath tried to
stay on top of the flow and get to its edge by making swimming motions. As he felt the avalanche slow, Heath flailed
with his arms and legs to create breathing space around him.
Nick followed Heath’s movement with his eyes. As much as he wanted to rush to his brother’s
aid, Nick knew he could not enter the flow of snow while it was still moving to
attempt a rescue. The wave of snow had
a two- to three-foot crown at its deepest point in a thirty-foot wide section. It came to a stop on the far shoulder of the
road, inches from a downhill plummet toward the river.
Heath had traveled the final few feet on his back. He felt fortunate that he had managed to
keep his head above the snow. But Heath
was buried up to his armpits and his legs felt locked into place. He began pushing at the snow around him in
an attempt to free himself.
Nick waded to his brother’s side. Their eyes met for only a moment and neither
man uttered a word. Both knew they were
still in a very dangerous place. Nick
began to dig as fast as he could. Heath
pushed and struggled to free his body from the heavy blanket of snow and ice.
Nick pulled Heath to his feet as a low rumbling emanated
from high on Rim Rock. Everything
seemed to happen so fast and at the same time in slow motion. Nick and Heath were ripped apart by another
slide as a secondary wave of snow from high above slammed them over the
mountainside.
Annie had rode on just as Nick had ordered. Then the conviction to turn back had been
too compelling to ignore. The handsome
strangers had risked their lives to rescue them. The girls just couldn’t ride away and not help the brothers if
they could.
Annie applied pressure to the Modoc’s mouth to slow the
mare and then swung her around. Annie
gasped as the avalanche, gaining mass and momentum every instant, hit the
brothers from behind and she saw them no more.
The girl urged the black mare back up the road toward Delco. Annie stopped the horse near where she’d
last seen Heath and Nick.
“Look!” Magnolia cried, pointing down the mountainside. She had spotted the familiar brown and sage
green coats in the sea of white. “They
ain’t movin, Annie.”
Annie said nothing, a feeling of helplessness sweeping
over her. “Is they dead?” Maggie’s voice was tight with fear.
The Modoc mare turned her head toward the abandoned town
and pricked her ears. The soft beating
of many hooves drifted up to them through the thin air. Four riders were coming hard down the street
of Delco, their horses whipping up a glittering white spray.
Even at this distance, Annie recognized the man riding the
gray and her blood froze. “It’s him!”
Magnolia cried with a sob. The trance
that had held Annie snapped. She
neck-reined the Modoc to the left and raked the mare’s flanks with her heels.
The Modoc was accustomed to harsh mountain winters with
snow up to her belly and there was still plenty of running in the mare. From the tip of her nose to the tip of her
tail she stretched in a straight line as Annie lashed her neck in time to the
whipping of her hooves. The beauty of
the mare’s speed buoyed Annie’s spirits – she knew the pursuers would never
catch them.
The four riders reached the base of Rim Rock Cliffs. Rock and red, wet clay lay bare on the
treacherous inclination of the mountainside.
The snow slide had plowed across the road and over the embankment, still
widening its triangle until it reached the timberline.
“Catch those horses, Jude!” Malachi gestured to the well-trained liver chestnut horse pawing
the snow-covered ground nervously, the lead line of the other three horses
still tethered to his saddle horn. A
roan stood off to her self, not far away.
Malachi’s pale eyes narrowed as he peered down the
slope. “Reuben. Titus.
Follow me.” The trio guided
their horses with care down the snowy ridge to where the unconscious brothers
lay half-buried in the snow.
Malachi smiled with satisfaction at the brothers’
fate. The meddlesome pair had dared to
assault the Remnant and kidnap his brides.
Divine retribution had been their reward. Yes, judgment is swift and judgment is sure.
“Kill them.”
Malachi ordered Titus. Reuben’s
expression registered dismay, but he remained passive, saying nothing.
Without hesitation, Titus pulled a revolver from his
waistband. Malachi cut his eyes at the young
man. “If you fire off a shot, Titus,
more of that slab on the face of Rim Rock might give way. Throw them in the river.”
Titus replaced the revolver in his pants and
dismounted. He grabbed Nick under his
arms and with one powerful effort pulled his body from its snowy
encasement. Titus started to drag the
dark-haired cowboy toward the Mokelumne.
“Titus!” Malachi’s
voice had taken on a hard edge. “How
many times must I tell you? Take the
Devil’s money to do the Lord’s work!”
Titus quickly rifled through Nick’s pockets. His searching hands located Nick’s wallet
and he handed it up to Malachi. Titus
lumbered back to the unconscious cowboy to finish his task.
Malachi began thumbing through the contents of the
wallet. His eyes widened in surprise
and recognition. “Wait!” he barked to
Titus. “Take them both back to
Remnant!”
Chapter
8
A sea of white overwhelmed Nick. He had felt and heard the onrush, but was powerless to avoid
being engulfed by it. A white arm shot
out and ripped Heath from his grasp.
There was a stifling moment, and the river of white pulled him under,
beat him, whirled him, and pummeled him with a thousand furious and brutal
fists. After a long immersion, its icy
grip loosened and Nick struggled up to the surface.
“Heath?” he rasped as his hazel eyes flew open.
A warm hand clamped over Nick’s mouth. He blinked his eyes and Ellen came into
focus kneeling next to him. Awareness
came flooding back and Nick realized he was lying on his side on a narrow
cot. He attempted to move and found
that his hands were tightly bound behind his back. Ellen raised a finger to her lips and when Nick nodded his
acknowledgment, she removed her hand.
“Your brother is right over there on the other cot.” Ellen
whispered. “He hasn’t come around
yet. He was pretty banged up. You both were, but I can’t find any broken
bones.”
“The girls?” Nick
kept his voice low to match hers.
“They got away.” A
smile almost flickered on Ellen’s lips.
“Good.”
“My one regret is that you didn’t.” She lowered her eyes, the swelling and
discoloration evident under the left one.
“I’m sorry about the shiner.”
Ellen shook her head.
“Don’t be. It saved my life.”
“Where are we?”
Nick asked.
“They’re keeping you in the girls’ old room.” Ellen whispered. “Seth is over at the house with Naomi
tending to him. The rest of the men are
out in the other room having a meeting.
I’m supposed to let Malachi know when either one of you wakes up.”
Nick glanced around the room and dropped his voice another
notch. “Could you sneak a knife back in here?
And a gun?”
“I… I can try…”
Nick knew what the betrayal would cost her. “And if we get out of here, you’re coming
with us.”
Ellen nodded. “I
guess it’s too much to hope that Malachi could be put off until the sheriff and
his men get here.”
“That’s three or four days at best. He won’t let Heath and me live that long,
Ellen. I’m surprised he didn’t finish
us off out there on that slope.”
“I don’t know why, either.” Ellen replied. “There’s no rhyme or reason to his
moods. All I know is he’s bound and
determined to speak to you. You’ve got
to pretend to be unconscious a while longer.
I can get a knife from our kitchen, but I’ll have to try and sneak in
the Assay Office and find where Malachi stashed the guns and ammunition.”
“No problem.” Nick
shifted on the cot and grimaced. “I
can’t make my move until Heath comes around.”
Nick couldn’t see Heath’s face, only the back of his blond
head. The men had dumped Heath on the
bed on his side and bound his arms behind his back just as they had done with
Nick. The one difference was that where
Nick was laid facing the interior of the room, Heath’s face was toward the
opposite wall.
Nick wished they were in a position to make eye
contact. It was almost like being able
to talk to his brother. “You sure he’s
alright?”
“I’m not a doctor, Nick, but best I can tell.” Ellen
reassured him.
The door swung open and Ellen startled. Malachi stopped just inside the
doorway. His pale eyes bored into Ellen’s
and his voice came abrupt and impatiently.
“They’re not awake yet?”
From the corner of her eye, Ellen could see that Nick’s
eyes were closed. “No, Malachi.” She stood and smoothed the front of her
skirt. “I was just checking this one
and there’s no sign of him coming to.”
Ellen motioned toward Nick.
Nick suddenly seemed to feel Malachi’s gaze on him. He didn’t move a muscle and kept his
breathing slow and controlled.
“It’s been over three hours!” Malachi glared at the brothers.
Ellen shrugged.
“It could be hours before they start to come around, Malachi. They took a pretty good lick to their
heads. I think they have concussions.”
“No worse than the lick one of them gave Seth and he’s
coming around!” Malachi rubbed his
palms together and smiled maliciously.
“Perhaps they need a little help waking up… Reuben! Titus!” he
barked. The men appeared behind Malachi
in the doorway, ready to do his bidding.
“Drag them into the other room!”
Ellen raised her hands in protest. “Malachi, no!”
“Is your wife defying my authority?” Malachi asked tersely
of Reuben.
Reuben stepped forward and grabbed his wife by her upper
arms. Reuben’s viselike grip caused
Ellen to grimace in pain and his momentum practically lifted her off the
ground. He pinned her to the back wall
of the small room and his gray eyes seared her jade green.
“Esther would never do that, Malachi!”
“You’re hurting me, Reuben!” Pain and other emotions caused Ellen’s eyes to blur with
tears. “I… I only meant if you injure
them even more, it could take longer for them to wake up.” Ellen was not accustomed to lying to her
husband.
“Might be best if you go back to the house, Esther.” It was a command, not a suggestion. Reuben kept a tight grip on his wife’s left
upper arm and yanked her roughly toward the door. He shoved Ellen out into the main room. Reuben’s eyes narrowed.
“Now, go!” He pointed to the
front door of the storage building.
Ellen looked briefly into the pitiless faces of Zechariah
and Jude. She lowered her head and
walked past them. Ellen stood alone
outside the door, looked at the ominous sky, felt the chill wind, and brushed
aside the tears that trickled down her cheeks.
Reuben’s face flushed with exertion as he drug Heath out
to the center of the main room. The
unconscious man was a bit larger than himself.
Titus seemed to move Nick without effort and laid him on the floor near
his brother.
“See if you can wake them, Zechariah.” Malachi ordered.
Zechariah knelt next to Heath. “Heath! Wake up,
Boy! HEATH!” Nick heard the sharp, rapid smacks of Zechariah’s palm on Heath’s
cheek, but Heath made no response to the voice calling his name.
Zechariah stepped across Heath and leaned forward over
Nick. “NICK!” A hand reached down and grasped Nick’s shoulder, rocking him back
and forth. “Come on, Nick! Wake up!”
Jude shoved Zechariah aside. “Lemme try!” Nick
recognized a cold, subtle cruelty in Jude’s voice and steeled himself for what
he knew was to come. The vicious kick
to Nick’s ribs elicited no more than a sharp exhalation of breath. Jude figured if the dark-haired cowboy was
anywhere close to consciousness, he would have cried out in pain.
Jude turned to the blond and delivered a similar
kick. Nick heard his brother grunt on
its impact and moan softly. “Hey! I think this one might be coming
around!” Jude broke into a
rotten-toothed grin. He delivered
another kick to Heath’s mid-section.
Irate hazel eyes flew open at the sound of Heath writhing
and moaning in pain. “Leave my brother
alone!” Nick growled.
Nick was prepared to take the brunt of Malachi’s wrath to
turn the men’s attention away from his little brother.
Chapter
9
Those first gray moments of comprehension began to seep
into Heath’s consciousness.
Unintelligible sounds gradually changing to fragments of conversation
gleaned from being on the periphery.
Darkness transforming into contours, forms, silhouettes and then blurred
edges. The insensate exchanged for the
throbbing pain, the nausea.
Heath’s eyes brought into focus the slats of a wooden
floor and a puddle of water. The room
felt cold and his clothes were damp. A
sound, like the patter of rain on leaves, thumped a steady beat.
Heath craned his neck in the direction of the repetitious
sound. Four men stood huddled around
the square pillar that reached up to the roof in the center of the warehouse.
The men took a step back as Jude, ladle in hand, turned to
a bucket sitting nearby on the floor.
It was filled with a mix of snow and ice-cold water. Jude stirred the mix and drew out a ladle
full of the freezing slush. The four
men closed in again on Nick like eager wolves surrounding their prey.
Between the men, Heath could see his brother. Nick was stripped to the waist and bound to
the post so that he could not move his arms, legs or head. Jude began to drip the ice-cold water onto
Nick’s scalp – a classic form of torture – which then ran down his body in
rivulets, ending in little spatters on the floor.
Heath’s eyes widened in stunned horror even as his mind
snapped to the facts and put the pieces together of what was happening. He remembered being caught in the
avalanche. He remembered the unshakable
resolve in the hazel eyes of the man who had stopped and come back for
him. Heath remembered the second slide that
had engulfed them both. He realized
they had been captured by the men of Remnant and recognized this storage
building as the one where the girls had been held hostage. That the brutish pack had not murdered him
and his brother without hesitation was unexpected. The scene unfolding before Heath was surreal.
Nick squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth. The drizzle hitting his scalp seemed to be a
shock to his entire system. The water was
so cold it seemed to burn as it snaked down his bare chest, stomach and the
length of his body. An unearthly chill
swept over him. Nick’s body was racked
by spasms of shivering and his teeth clattered like the iced branches that blew
against the tin roof. He almost lapsed
into unconsciousness from the awful torment.
Nick’s eyelids fluttered and his eyeballs began to roll back. Only the strength of a will of iron returned
those hazel eyes to their still defiant stare.
Nick pursed his blue-tinged lips tightly. He had told them nothing over the past
several hours and would never tell them anything. No amount of beating and torture would loosen his tongue. His only worry was that when he lost the
battle to remain conscious, the savage cult would turn on Heath.
In a split-second, Heath had been transported back through
time to the first time he had witnessed water torture. Like so many other cruelties he had seen for
the first time, the place was Carterson Prison. Matt Bentell had ordered the unusual method to force a
particularly stubborn prisoner into confession. The man had been tied to a post much the way Nick was. A nail on the post hanged a bucket, with a
small hole punched in the bottom, over his head. Bentell had ordered the guards to keep the bucket filled with
water until he returned to continue the interrogation. The thing was, Bentell didn’t return until
the next day. The prisoner was
unconscious. When the Union soldier
came to in the makeshift infirmary, he had no recollection of where he was or
what had happened. For weeks afterward,
the prisoner was useless even for questioning.
It was amid the depravity of Carterson that Heath had come
to appreciate how narrow are the limits within which a human can preserve his
personality intact. He had seen every
form of depredation undermine the will and make men behave like animals. Heath had seen unrelenting torture break a
man’s mind so that he ceased to be himself.
A wave of anguish washed over Heath. His quick read of the situation told him
that Nick had already endured hours of unending torment. The puddle of water pooling at Nick’s feet
extended in all directions for at least fifteen or twenty feet. It even extended to where Heath lay, and the
icy water soaked into his pants leg.
What was keeping his big brother from surrendering to the haven of
unconsciousness?
“STOP IT!” Heath heaved out. He struggled against his restraints. “Leave him be or I’ll kill ya, I swear it!” All eyes turned to him.
In the faces of Zechariah and Reuben, Heath could read
nothing. Jude and Titus seemed to light
up in anticipation with a sadistic glee.
Heath saw dismay spread across his brother’s weary countenance and concern
flood the hazel eyes.
The last man, a man Heath had not seen before, approached
him. A long, black, fleece-lined duster
did little to conceal his narrow effeminate body. The man had wavy black hair that hung below his shoulders. His thin, pale face was marred by four rows
of welted, crimson scratch marks. The
gray-blue eyes were wild eyes, violent eyes, eyes of death.
The man knelt beside Heath. “Leave him be!” Heath repeated in a low threatening tone.
“I will leave your brother alone. I will leave you both alone.” Malachi paused and a sinister sneer crossed
his lips. “But first you must tell me
where she is.”
“Wha… what?” Heath stammered with confusion.
Malachi tilted his head for a moment and studied Heath’s
features intently. “Sister!” Malachi
hissed. “Yes, she’s your sister!” He pulled the small family photograph from
the pocket of his coat and shoved it in front of Heath’s face. “My Chosen, my bride-to-be!”
Heath’s eyes turned to steel. “Never!” he growled.
Heath locked eyes with his brother.
Though Nick’s body sagged in fatigue against the ropes that held him,
his eyes were as hard as iron with the same defiant resolve.
There was never any question that Heath was willing to
enter into the fellowship of Nick’s suffering.
And for the same reasons, to keep this pack off his brother – if only
for a little while – and to protect his beloved little sister.
Malachi was insane; Heath could see that. Zechariah and Reuben had seemed the most
rational of the cult members. Heath
looked past Malachi and addressed his pleas to them.
“Can’t you see what you’re doing? He’s a fake, a fraud! The Pale Horseman isn’t about to ride… You kidnapped three innocent girls and one
of them is dead – murdered by Malachi – for no good reason!”
“Do you deny I am the ‘Last Days Prophet’?” Malachi’s bony hand trembled as he returned
the photograph to his pocket.
“Oh, you’re a prophet alright!” Heath glared at him. “A
false prophet!”
“Get that rope, Titus!”
Malachi’s voice dripped with anger and indignation. “Bridle this filthy, lying blasphemer!”
Titus retrieved the long piece of rough cord. He turned Heath over on his stomach. Heath felt the huge man’s knee on the upper
part of his back, leaning in with ever increasing pressure. Just when Heath felt his ribcage was going
to be crushed, his own scream split the air.
The scream was stifled as Titus put a loop of rope between
Heath’s jaws like a bridle. Titus
pulled the ends of the rope back over the blond’s shoulders and tied them to
his ankles. The big man began to slowly
ratchet the rope tighter. Heath groaned
in agony, his spine felt as if it were breaking.
“Heath…” Nick breathed out. His fury built as he watched Titus roll his brother on his
stomach and then use the rope to contort Heath’s body like a ‘swan dive’. The fury seemed to warm Nick like an inferno
within. His shivering and the chatter
of his teeth abruptly stopped. Nick
reached deep within and found renewed strength.
“MARTIN LUTHER MURPHY!”
Malachi spun around, his face registering shock and
rage. Titus let go of the rope and
stared at the man bound to the pillar in disbelief. The dark-haired cowboy had spoken the name that Malachi had
warned must never be uttered in Remnant.
Reuben and Zechariah regarded one another with unspoken confusion. How could the stranger have known?
“I… I am Malachi!”
His penetrating eyes and thin face stared back at Nick uneasily, yet
with extreme seriousness. “There is no
Martin Luther Murphy.”
“There is no Malachi!” Nick spat back. “But there sure as hell is a Martin Murphy
because I’m looking right at him.”
“No…” Malachi shook his head.
“Martin Murphy.
Poor Preacher Murphy’s lunatic son!” Nick goaded him.
A sudden shooting pain ripped through Malachi’s temples
and he rubbed his forehead with a trembling hand. “I… I am the… prophet… Malachi… no… Martin… Murphy.”
“Then maybe it’s Mad Dog Murphy!” Nick’s voice had a razor lace of
sarcasm. “I’ve killed a few rabid dogs
in my day and I know a mad dog when I see one.”
Malachi clasped his hands together to stop them from
shaking. “Cut… cut him down!” he
ordered. “Put… them… back in… the… the…
other… room.” It required all of his
concentration to speak.
“Mad Dog Martin Murphy!”
The dark-haired cowboy taunted him once more.
The deep booming voice cut through Malachi’s head like a
knife.
Chapter
10
Jude held a gun on Nick while Titus cut away the ropes
that bound him to the wooden post. An
involuntary shiver ran through Nick’s body.
He hugged himself and rubbed his arms to get the circulation flowing
again.
Reuben took Nick’s shirt and coat from where they lay on
the table and tossed them to the cowboy.
“You can get dressed before we tie your hands again.” He knelt beside Heath and began to work at
the ropes to ‘unbridle’ the blond.
Heath’s body relaxed as Reuben loosened the rope and the
searing pain in his back began to ebb.
Reuben removed the coarse rope from between Heath’s teeth. The blond cowboy began to cough and spit out
the fibers that remained. His tongue
and the corners of his mouth felt raw.
Reuben grabbed a canteen that was slung over one of the chair backs and
gave Heath a swallow of cold water.
Reuben turned to look at Nick standing nearby as Titus
finished retying his hands. “Want a
drink?” Reuben asked offering Nick a sip from the canteen. An icy stare was the only reply. Reuben sighed. “Put him back on his cot.” he told Titus.
Reuben hauled the blond to his feet and walked Heath to
the small room. They waited for Titus
to exit the cramped room and then Reuben led Heath to his cot. Heath lay on his side on the narrow bed
facing his brother’s.
The little room was nearly as cold as the outdoors and his
big brother was wet and chilled to the bone.
“Could you cover my brother with a blanket, Reuben?” The man might be thoroughly deceived and
under Malachi’s spell, but Heath dared hope for a simple act of decency.
Reuben hesitated at the doorway and then stepped back
inside. He pulled two heavy wool
blankets from beneath Nick’s cot and spread them over the cowboy. He did the same for the blond. “Appreciate it, Reuben.” Heath said.
Reuben paused again before closing and locking the
door. “Don’t try anything,” he
warned. “Jude and Titus are sitting
right outside the door.”
Heath cast a worried eye at Nick. The hazel eyes looked more tired than he’d
ever seen. Heath knew how the ordeal
must have sapped his brother.
“That was a hell of a chance you took out there, Big
Brother. Murphy could have snapped and
had them kill you!”
“You… started running… your mouth… first.” Nick’s words came wearily and matter-of-fact
as another shiver swept over him.
“I was trying to get that pack off you, Nick!”
“Lotta… lotta good you’d do me… getting your back broke…
Boy.” Nick’s eyes were about to
close. “Couldn’t… let ‘im… do that…
Heath.”
Heath could think of no better words than the ones his
brother had already suggested.
“Thanks, Nick.” he said softly.
Zechariah helped Malachi down the steps of the storage
building and over to the old Assay Office.
For the first time, he was concerned about Remnant’s leader. It seemed as though the lies ringing in
Malachi’s ears had caused him real physical pain. Zechariah had seen the pale eyes roll back in agony at Nick’s
words.
Zechariah had never dared to tell the sect’s prophet what
the Remnant should do next. But this
one time…
“Malachi, I… I think we need to go ahead and kill those
two cowboys and move on! It… it don’t
look like they’re gonna tell us who they are or where to find that gal. And them other two little gals, they’ll be
sending the sheriff and a posse back up here as soon as they hit town! With our women, we need all the head start
we can git.”
“I… I must rest a while, Zechariah. One… one last try… in the morning… then we
kill them… and leave.” As Malachi
spoke, his voice grew weaker and his words slowly became more drawn out. The pain in his head made it difficult to
find the words to express his thoughts.
“Tomorrow… morning… Zechariah.”
Malachi closed the door and walked slowly to his
bedroom. He removed his duster, sat
down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands and closed his
eyes. The sudden, shooting pains in his
head had been brought on by the words of the dark-haired cowboy. The words had ripped Malachi from the
present back to another time long ago – a time when the headaches began.
The headaches had started, then grew worse and at times he
– Martin or Malachi, he did not know which – imagined things that did not
exist. He was not sure afterward if he
had seen them, heard them, or his mind was playing tricks on him. He was aware that the unreal and the real
were merging inside his brain and he soon would not be able to distinguish
between the two. Martin Murphy had been
real, then only seemed real, and was now completely unreal. Only Malachi remained.
A pitcher of water and a glass sat on Malachi’s bedside
table. He reached over and poured
himself a glass of water. With
trembling hands, Malachi pulled open the table’s drawer and removed a small
vial. He frowned that the vial was only
a quarter full.
The one true thing about gold is that it makes anything
available. Jude had combed the
underside of the town of San Andreas and found the opium.
Malachi took a dose and lay back on his bed. He pulled his covers over him and waited for
the drug to have its desired effect. It
would give him relief from his headache, produce a deep sleep, and in the
morning Malachi would feel euphoric.
Ellen sat huddled in the corner behind the counter in the old
office. Malachi had not seen her as he
walked past to the back room. A
revolver lay in her lap wrapped in the folds of her skirt and her trembling
hand gripped a box of cartridges.
Ellen remained still in the darkness hardly daring to
breath. It wasn’t until she heard the
deep snores from the bedroom that Ellen crept quietly out the door.
Morning came gray and overcast to the Sierra Nevada
Mountains as the sun rose to a cloudy sky.
Occasionally the sun was allowed to peek out and reflections of the
bright, crystal sunlight glinted off the snow-covered landscape and the sharp
edges of distant peaks.
Malachi walked out on the Assay Office porch and felt the
burst of frigid air. He gripped the
porch railing, took a deep breath, and got a lung full of the brisk, clean
mountain air.
Malachi stepped down off the porch and surveyed the Delco
Mining compound; the repaired buildings, the hand-hoed garden plot, the corral
and shelters. He scowled and his hands
clenched into fists. Zechariah had been
right that the girls would send a sheriff and posse back to Delco. Once again, the sect would be driven from
their home.
The little band would need all the head start they could
get. Two days ride to San Andreas and
two days back, Malachi estimated. He
pondered the fresh cloud cover. It
looked like there might be more snow on the way. He smiled at the thought of Divine providence – more snow would
slow the posse and cover the Remnant’s trail.
The Remnant would find another place of refuge to await the Pale
Horseman.
Malachi pulled the miniature family photograph from the
pocket of his black duster. The blonde
in the photograph was a beauty. He ran
his finger along the image: a young woman with the face of Helen and what
promised to be an exquisite body. The
voices still insisted that Malachi must find a bride. He wanted the blonde. He
could see their fair-haired, blue-eyed, angelic offspring in his mind’s eye.
This morning he would attempt to convince the two
strangers that their sister was fortunate to be his Chosen. For without Malachi, she had no future, no
hope of survival in the coming apocalypse.
The cowboys had one last opportunity to repent of their careless words
and understand the consummation of the ages was at hand. The strangers could believe the prophet’s
words, join the Remnant and save themselves as well as their sister.
Or they must die.
Continued…