Wilderness Double Edition 19, page 5
An isolated tree framed the next rise. Starkly silhouetted against the sky, suspended by the neck from a rope, was one of the girls.
Four
Nate King’s heart leaped to his throat. Slapping his moccasins against the big bay, he galloped past his transfixed wife and barreled up the rise. The slope was almost vertical and the bay began to slip and slide, unable to keep its footing. In frantic fear, Nate threw himself from the saddle and scrambled higher like a madman, levering himself with his left hand, his right holding the Hawken. The small form at the end of the hemp was shrouded in murky shadow and he couldn’t tell whether it was Evelyn or Melissa.
A wail tore from Winona. Glancing back, Nate saw her spring from the mare. Ezriah was gaping in horror-struck bewilderment, too stupefied to move.
A tiny voice in Nate’s mind screeched, Please don’t let it be Evelyn! Please don’t let it be Evelyn! A twinge of conscience afflicted him, but she was his daughter and Melissa wasn’t. Like any parent, his first and paramount concern was for his own offspring. He liked Melissa, he cared for Melissa, but he loved Evelyn with the breadth and depth of his entire soul. She was as essential to him as life itself.
Tears gushed, blurring Nate’s vision, and with an angry snarl he shook his head and swiped at his eyes with a sleeve. He had another ten feet to go. Talus rained from under him as he surged higher. Trying to stay upright was akin to trying to run on ice. His left leg suddenly pumped out from under him, and he jammed his elbow against the ground so as not to pitch onto his face.
“Evelyn!” Winona cried, clawing at the earth in berserk misery. “Evelyn! Evelyn! Evelyn!”
Nate had seldom seen his wife lose her self-control, but she had lost it now. She was beside herself with grief. Within seconds she was at his side. Together, they covered the final stretch and heaved up onto the rise. Shock brought them to a stop a yard from the rope.
It wasn’t Evelyn. It wasn’t Melissa. The kidnappers had taken Melissa’s dress, slid it over part of a bundled blanket, and looped the rope around the top. The illusion had been quite effective.
Winona mewed like a kitten, shuffled to the effigy, and placed a hand on it, saying softly, “I have never been so glad of anything in my life, husband.” She quietly wept, her whole body trembling from the intensity of her emotion.
Nate’s legs were weak. His knees wobbling, he stepped to the tree and leaned his back against it. “Damn them,” he said softly. “Damn them all to hell.” It was unspeakably cruel, and was further proof, as if any were needed, that the men he was dealing with were devoid of scruples and decency.
Dirt rattled, and over the edge came Ezriah, huffing and puffing as if he had run five miles. He drew up short, his good eye focused on the effigy, and blurted, “Well, I’ll be. Deucedly clever of the devils, wouldn’t you say?”
“They are all going to die,” Winona proclaimed. Yanking her knife out, she elevated her arm and angrily slashed at the rope. The abomination fell with a thud at her feet. She picked it up, unraveled the noose, and pulled out the piece of blanket wadded in the dress.
“It was a warning,” Ezriah said. “Their way of telling us if we push on, if we don’t abide by their rules, they’ll do as they threatened.” He sighed. “That’s that, then. We’ll have to turn back.”
“Not on your life,” Winona growled, shaking the blanket as if it were one of the kidnappers and she were throttling him. “I will not rest until Evelyn is in my arms.” She moved toward the slope.
“No,” Nate said.
Halting, Winona wagged the dress at him. “No? After what they have done! What else would you have us do?”
“Exactly what they want.” Nate hated to admit it, but Hampton was right. He nodded at the high cliffs that flanked the pass. “They’re up there right this moment, spying on us, waiting to see what we’ll do. If we keep going, the next time it will be Evelyn or Melissa hanging from a rope.”
Indecision contorted Winona’s features. Love and common sense fought for mastery, and common sense won. Tears slipped from the comers of her eyes as she glumly nodded. “I just cannot bear the thought of our daughter in the hands of such vile men.”
“Do you think it’s any easier for me?” Nate rejoined. He stepped out from under the tree and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’d give anything to have them back safe and sound.”
Ezriah cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, I think the kidnappers will do their best to keep the girls alive so long as they think they’ll get their gold.” He gave Nate a meaningful glance. “Gold you don’t have.”
Nate surveyed the heights. His decision to go back might cost his daughter her life. But it was the wisest move under the circumstances. “Tomorrow morning Ezriah and I will head for Bent’s Fort. Winona, you’ll stay at the cabin and—”
“I am going with you.”
In the twenty years they had been man and wife, Nate had grown to know her as intimately as he knew himself. Her expressions, her posture, often held significance others missed. At the moment, lurking in the depths of her eyes was an indomitable resolve that brooked no argument. He could talk himself hoarse and it wouldn’t make a difference. “All right. The three of us.”
In silence they descended to their horses, mounted, and reined around. Midway down, Ezriah commenced to whistle to himself but stopped at a look from Winona that would wither a cactus.
Nate tried not to think of Evelyn and Melissa and how it must be tearing them apart to see Winona and him ride off. He trusted Evelyn would understand and would keep her wits about her until they were reunited. “I’m sorry, little one,” he said, gazing at the craggy summit. “Please forgive me.”
Evelyn King watched her parents and Ezriah Hampton wind down the mountain and fought down an impulse to cry. She refused to show weakness in front of her captors. They would only tease her, as Killibrew and Bittner had been teasing Melissa, and she refused to give them the satisfaction.
“There they go!” Killibrew cheerfully exclaimed. “I told you it would work, boys. Nate King might be the bull of the woods as far as some folks are concerned, but so long as we have his girls, he’ll do whatever we want.”
“It’s the Shoshone I’m worried about,” Bittner said. “What if she sics her kin on us? I’m rather fond of my hair.”
“Why do you think we asked Haro to join?” Killibrew responded. “He’s one of the best hunters and trackers in these parts. If any Injuns try to sneak up on us, he’ll spot them long before they can get within arrow range.” Killibrew grinned at the half-breed. “Ain’t that right, Pawnee?”
Haro grunted.
Kyle was holding the horses by the reins. “I’m glad the plan worked. But I still don’t see why we had to cut up one of my blankets instead of one of yours.”
“That’s what you get for being the youngest and the newest, boy,” Killibrew said. “It might have been fairer to flip a coin, but I’m plumb out of coins.” Laughing at his own wit, Killibrew walked to his mount. “Don’t stand there like a bunch of dead trees. There’s still enough light for us to make it through the pass. We’ll camp on the other side and head for the meeting place at dawn.”
“What’s your rush?” Bittner asked. “It’ll take King quite a spell to gather up enough gold. He won’t show until the three weeks are up.”
“Spoken like a simpleton who has never had kids,” Killibrew said mockingly. “For all you know, King might have enough already, stashed somewhere. Either way, he’ll move heaven and earth to save his precious little missies, and get to us as fast as he can.” He winked at Evelyn. “Isn’t that true, dearie?”
Evelyn clamped her mouth shut. She had never despised anyone as much as she did the ugly monster with the great moon face. Instead of answering, she coaxed Melissa toward the animals.
Melissa had been weeping and sniffling ever since Killibrew made her go behind some boulders and take off her dress. As a substitute, Killibrew had taken half of Kyle’s blanket, cut a hole in the center, and instructed Melissa to slide her head through the hole and let it hang down. It was a lot like the ponchos Evelyn had seen Mexicans wear in Santa Fe.
“I want my dress, damn him,” Melissa complained. “That mean man had no right to take it.”
Killibrew heard her. “Quit your gripin’, girl. Your pa got the point, and that’s all that counts.”
“My pa?” Melissa said, and lifted her head to say more.
“Don’t!” Evelyn whispered.
“But they think we’re sisters,” Melissa replied.
“I know.” Evelyn had caught on at the glade. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt it was important they not reveal the truth. “Let them go on thinking it,” she advised.
Bittner impatiently motioned at them. “What did we tell you about that infernal whispering? When you have something to say, say it out loud.”
“We don’t want you plottin’ behind our backs,” Killibrew said. “We’ll treat you decent, but only so long as you do as we say.”
Evelyn and Melissa separated. Evelyn was hauled up behind Kyle; Melissa had to ride double with Bittner.
“Better hold on tight,” Kyle suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to fall off and hurt yourself.”
Evelyn thought it silly. From what she had seen, she was a better rider than he was.
She had her parents to thank. They had put her on a pony almost as soon as she could walk; she had many fond recollections of being led around the corral by her father or mother. When she was old enough to handle the reins herself, they had taken her for short rides. By the time she was six she could ride well enough to keep up with her older brother, and by ten years of age she was the equal of whites twice her age.
Her pa had always been of the opinion that girls should be as versed in wilderness survival as boys. He’d taught her to shoot, and how to read sign, and how to live off the land so she need never fear being lost or on her own in the woods.
Evelyn had done her best to make him proud of her. Over the past few years, though, she had lost interest in wood lore and become more involved in doing things her mother liked to do: sewing, knitting, baking, and other home skills that would come in handy when she married and had a family of her own. Her father never said anything, but she could tell he was a bit disappointed. Just as her mother was disappointed that she was more partial to white ways than those of the Shoshones.
Evelyn couldn’t help it. She liked store-bought dresses more than buckskins. She liked shoes more than moccasins. She liked to sleep in a bed instead of on the ground, and she liked living in a cabin more than in a lodge. She was fond of doing her hair up, and playing with dolls, and she loved to read and draw. Her uncle Shakespeare once remarked that she was “all girl,” and Evelyn took that as the highest compliment anyone ever paid her. She was a girl, and she enjoyed doing girl things. Was that so bad?
The pass opened before them, a defile in the rock wall. Evelyn had been through it once before, three years ago, with her father. High walls reared on either side, shutting out what little light remained, and they rode in near-complete darkness, the plod of hooves and the creak of saddles loud in the narrow confines.
Beyond the pass the towering Rockies stretched into the twilight distance for as far as the eye could see. Clear to Canada, Evelyn’s father maintained. Largely unexplored except by trappers who had crisscrossed the region in the early days in search of beaver pelts, it was roamed by hostile war parties of Bloods, Piegans, and Blackfeet. The Sioux, too, occasionally drifted to its borders.
In all that vastness dwelled only two whites Evelyn knew of. Shakespeare McNair, her father’s best friend and the oldest white man in the mountains, lived with his Flathead wife twenty-five miles to the north. Much closer was one other homestead: her brother’s.
As Evelyn stared out across the benighted landscape, an idea took root—a bold idea that entailed considerable risk. She thought about it long and hard as her abductors meandered down the facing slope into thick firs, and decided it was worth the try. If it worked she would be free of their clutches. If not, the worst she imagined they would do was beat her. They needed her alive to swap for her father’s gold.
Kyle was glancing right and left, nervous at being abroad so late. Bittner and Killibrew were also high-strung. Only the half-breed, Haro, rode with the calm assurance of one at home in the wilds.
On a shelf a hundred yards lower Killibrew called a halt. It was a poor spot for a camp, in Evelyn’s estimation—much too open, too exposed to the wind and the elements—but she didn’t say a thing as Killibrew ordered Bittner to chop firewood, Kyle to prepare their supper, and Haro to stand guard.
Melissa was a portrait of depression. Evelyn guided her to one side and they hunkered in the high grass.
“How are you holding up?” Evelyn asked.
“How do you think? I’m scared and I’m hungry and I’m cold.” Melissa plucked at the blanket. “And this itches something awful.”
Evelyn leaned close to the smaller girl’s ear. “I have a plan. We’re going to give them the slip.”
“What good would that do?” Melissa said louder than she should. “How far would we get on our own? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“My brother lives ten to twelve miles in that direction.” Evelyn pointed to the northwest. “If we can reach his place—”
“Ten miles?” Melissa said, making it sound like one thousand. “Just the two of us? With no food? No water?”
“We can do it,” Evelyn assured her. “I’ve been through this country. My pa taught me which landmarks to remember.”
“What about bears? And mountain lions? And wolves?” Melissa morosely scratched herself. “I don’t cotton to being eaten.”
Evelyn had never met anyone so fond of always looking at the bad side of things. “Wolves don’t usually attack unless they’re hungry. Mountain lions will run if you yell at them. And bears aren’t as fierce as everyone makes them out to be.” That last was a fib. If anything, the opposite was the case. Grizzlies were rightly regarded as the scourge of the high country, and would dine on anything they could catch and kill. Including people.
The grass rustled, and Bittner loomed in the gathering gloom. “Are you two at it again? Damn. From now on, keep your mouths shut unless we say it’s all right to talk.”
“Yes, sir,” Melissa said, cowering.
“How about you?” the bearded giant demanded of Evelyn.
“Can we breathe without permission?”
Bittner hiked a hand as if to hit her but was distracted by a grating laugh from Killibrew. “I’m glad you think this is so funny, pard.”
“It’s not them, it’s you,” the short man corrected him. “They’re kids, for cryin’ out loud. What can they do against the four of us? A little whisperin’ ain’t going to hurt none.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Bittner’s hand dropped to his side. “But I don’t like it. Hear me, Miss Sassy?” He was addressing Evelyn. “Any more out of you and I’ll slap you silly.” He tromped off to chop wood.
Evelyn bent toward Melissa. “It won’t be until later, when most of them are asleep. Be ready to go when I say.”
Uncertainty etched the smaller girl; her throat bobbed when she swallowed. “Can I be honest? Being out there in the dark scares me more than being with them. I really don’t want to do it.”
“Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Evelyn said. But it was a tall order. On their own and unarmed, they were prime quarry for every predator for miles around. She envisioned them running into a roving grizzly and almost changed her mind. They would stand no chance at all. It would tear them to ribbons before they could so much as scream. Her pa might track them later and give their bleached bones a burial, provided the bear left any.
“Get over here where we can keep a better eye on you,” Killibrew commanded. He was beside Kyle, who was on his knees, rummaging in a pair of saddlebags.
Clasping Melissa’s hand, Evelyn did as they were bid. “What are we having for supper?” she inquired. “I’m starved.” She always was about mealtime. Her pa liked to joke that he could set his pocket watch by her stomach.
Kyle smiled at them. “Soup will have to do. It’s too dark to go after game.”
That it was. The sun was long vanquished, and a myriad of stars filled the celestial vault of inky sky. Evelyn did as her father had taught her and scoured the land below for sign of campfires. There were none. Swiveling to the northwest, she probed the woodland for a gleam of light from her brother’s cabin, but the intervening forest concealed it from prying eyes. Much to her relief.
“Blame your folks,” Killibrew snapped. “If they hadn’t delayed us back there, we’d have made it through the pass a lot sooner and could have got some huntin’ done.” He stalked toward the horses.
“Pay him no mind,” Kyle said. “He was born grumpy, and his disposition hasn’t improved much with age.”
Evelyn scrutinized the young man with renewed interest. Of all of them, he was the only one who treated them decently. The only one who shared kind words now and then. “What you’re doing is wrong,” she bluntly stated.
Kyle froze in the act of removing a large piece of pemmican from the saddlebags. “I wouldn’t be so quick to judge, were I you. When you’re older, you’ll realize that sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to.”
“I could live to be a hundred and I’d never steal children,” Evelyn said.
Kyle’s cheeks pinched inward. “Killibrew has promised me you won’t be harmed. He has it all worked out. All your father has to do is hand over the gold and the two of you will be set free.”
“What if he’s wrong? What if my pa doesn’t have any gold?” Evelyn said. “Will he hang us for real?”
Kyle drew a long-handled Green River knife and slashed into the pemmican. “I was at Bent’s Fort. I heard them talking about your father’s nuggets.”
“What if that was all he had?” Evelyn amended. Gripping the strip he had cut off, Kyle looked her in the eyes. He was troubled, and it showed. “It won’t work. Maybe if you’d swear on your mother’s life you’re telling the truth, I’d be inclined to believe you.”
