“Figured I might as well,” Adam replied, “since it looked like those three outlaws didn't have 'emâoughta be two more somewhere around the foot of that mountain.” He turned to Black Otter then. “Can you gimme a hand with 'em? Half of 'em's yours.”
The Bannock warrior was all smiles as he looked the horses over thoroughly. “You stay,” he said to Adam, “make Black Otter rich man.”
“Did you catch up with 'em?” Finn asked.
“One of 'em,” Adam replied. “One of 'em got away.” He glanced at the coffeepot seated in the coals of the fire. “Any coffee left in that pot?”
“A little,” Bonnie answered. “I'll get it for you.” She filled the cup she had been using and brought it to Adam. “I'll bet this is the only reason you came back here,” she chided, knowing the big man's love for the bitter black brew.
“It's one of 'em,” he admitted, “that's a fact.”
Accustomed to Adam's inclination to save words, Finn pressed him for more details. With an indifferent shrug of his shoulders, Adam told them of his encounter with the two outlaws, resulting in the death of one of them while the other went free. “I'm goin' after him. I think I know where I can find him. His name's Bailey Cruz.”
This immediately sparked Bonnie's interest. “Bailey Cruz,” she echoed. “I know him. I saw him several times in O'Grady's Saloon.” She shook her head in warning. “You'd best be careful if you're going after Cruz. I've heard he's put a lot of men in the ground.” Her comment was not enough to dispel the expression of indifference on Adam's face, causing her to wonder if the man was devoid of feeling, or was it a lack of sense?
Finn's concern was for a different matter. “You're still goin' after this fellow, Cruz?”
The obvious distress in Finn's question prompted Adam to reassure him. “I'll see you and Bonnie outta here first. Then I'm goin' after Cruz.” His statement brought another sigh of relief from Finn, and a smile to Bonnie's face.
Chapter 13
With Black Otter as their guide, the belabored party of fugitives from Henry Plummer's army of road agents crossed through the towering mountains that guarded the lone Bannock warrior's camp. When they finally left the eastern slopes, they found themselves in the broad Madison River Valley, approximately a day and a half below Three Forks. There they said good-bye to Black Otter, after expressing their appreciation for his help.
“Big Hunter good friend,” Black Otter told Adam before turning back toward the mountains.
“Maybe I'll come back to visit with you sometime,” Adam said while shaking the Indian's hand.
“Maybe,” Black Otter said. “Have to look hard. Move camp now.” He had already told Little Flower to prepare to take the tipi down in preparation for the move to a new location. His camp had been discovered by white men, so he could not risk staying there another season. He had gained much from his friend, but as Little Flower had repeatedly warned him, “Big Hunter brings death with him.” He said farewell to Finn and smiled at Bonnie. “Woman shoot gun like man.” Then the Bannock warrior turned his newly acquired horse back toward the mountains. Sitting a single-rigged saddle, a rifle in the scabbard, and his bow slung on his back, he disappeared into the trees.
“We can ride down the river to Three Forks,” Adam said, giving them an option, in case they had decided what they were going to do. “Or we can cross over and head toward my pa's place. It's a little farther, about three days, I expect, but you might feel a whole lot safer there.”
There was no hesitation on the part of either Finn or Bonnie. “I'd prefer to go to your pa's place,” Finn said.
“I'll go with the gold,” Bonnie said, and winked at Finn.
They had approximately fifteen miles to reach the Madison, with enough daylight left to make it before dark, so Adam set out to the east across the valley. He figured they were far enough north of Virginia City to avoid trouble from Plummer's road agents, thanks to Black Otter leading them through the mountains. But he knew it would be difficult for Finn and Bonnie to find the Triple-B without him. It was difficult to get Bailey Cruz out of his mind, however. It was something he felt he had to do, and the sooner he had settled the issue, the sooner he would feel that he had done all he could to punish those who had murdered Jake and Lacey. His impatience did not go unnoticed by his two companions.
“You know, it ain't your fault Lacey got killed,” Bonnie told him as they sat by their campfire on the east bank of the Madison. “She was just unlucky enough to be walking by the fire when those murderers sneaked up on us.”
“I reckon I know that,” Adam replied stoically, although not convincingly to Bonnie.
“Well, it's time you stopped blaming yourself,” she said.
“I ain't blamin' nobody,” he insisted, “but things won't be right as long as Bailey Cruz goes free.” He knew that he couldn't explain to her the feeling of failure that hovered over him. His father had sent him to Bannack to bring his brother home. He had not only failed to do that, but he had also failed to bring the girl Lacey back, as Jake had intended to do. He was dreading the moment when he had to admit his failures to his father. He didn't know if killing Cruz would alleviate his feeling of defeat, but it would rid the world of an evil presence. That much he was certain of, so there was no use for Bonnie, or anyone else, to try to talk him out of going back to finish that piece of business.
All was peaceful during the night, but Adam awoke early, unable to sleep any longer, so he got up to revive the fire. As he moved quietly in the dark pocket of firs that surrounded their camp, he paused for a moment, unsure. At first glance, he thought someone was missing, for he saw only one blanket other than his own. Maybe, he thought, his eyes were playing tricks on him in the dark. With his hand on his revolver, he moved closer to the remaining blanket, thinking it belonged to Finn. He stopped short when he discovered two bodies wrapped inside two blankets and Bonnie snuggled up to Finn, her head nestled against his neck. Astonished, he could not suppress a grin.
Damned if she didn't do it. I never thought it was possible
. Afraid he was going to laugh out loud, he stepped back and returned to the fire. Still grinning, he grabbed the coffeepot and went down the bank to fill it.
The coffee was boiling nosily when Adam heard a rustle of blankets. He glanced over in their direction. Although the light was still poor under the canopy of fir limbs, he could make out the one form suddenly separating into two. A few minutes later, Finn walked up closer to the fire. “Mornin',” he said.
“Mornin',” Adam returned. “Kinda cold last night. You sleep okay?”
“Well, I can't complain. It was a wee bit chilly, though.”
“Maybe you oughta sleep a little closer to the fire,” Adam said, enjoying the game. “I wonder how Bonnie slept.”
“All right, I suppose. The woman can sleep with no trouble a'tall.” Anxious to change the subject, he blurted, “Is that coffee done yet? I've a strong need for it this mornin'.”
“I reckon,” Adam said. “Yeah, it's about ready.” Bonnie was up a few minutes after that, but she walked up the river for a ways before joining the men at the fire. “I could eat a horse,” she exclaimed when she knelt by the fire.
“Will some deer meat do?” Adam asked. “We're gonna need the horses.” She cocked a wary eye at him, then favored him with a wicked grin. He knew. She could tell by his unusually cheerful demeanor. She shrugged her shoulders and helped herself to coffee.
She kept telling us she was going with the gold
, Adam thought.
Â
Mose Stebbins leaned his pitchfork against the barn door and walked out to see if he recognized the riders approaching from the south. His eyes weren't as strong as they used to be, but the man sitting tall in the saddle looked like Adam.
By God,
he thought,
it's time you were getting home.
He started to hurry to the house to get Nathan, but decided to wait a moment longer, squinting in an effort to see Jake. “What the hell?” he blurted to himself. “Who the hell is that with him?” Mose could clearly see them now. There was a man with Adam, but it sure as hell wasn't Jakeâand a womanâand they were leading horses and a string of mules! “Uh-oh,” he whistled. This could only mean bad news. Shaken to action then, he ran toward the house, yelling, “Nathan, Nathan! Adam's come home!”
In a few short seconds, Nathan Blaine came out on the porch, at once searching in the direction Mose was frantically pointing. Like Mose, he was stopped for a moment when he saw the man and woman with his son, at once overtaken by a feeling of dread to hear what Adam was surely going to tell him. He remained standing at the top of the porch steps and waited until Adam reined his horse up just short of the steps.
“Pa,” Adam said, greeting his father solemnly.
“Adam,” was his father's simple return. It was unnecessary to ask, for Nathan could read the regret in his son's face.
Mose was not as adept at reading expressions. He required verbal explanations. “Did you find Jake?” he interrupted. “Who are these folks you brung with you?” He looked Finn and Bonnie over with a curious eye, taking special interest in the three mules on a line behind Finn's horse.
“Jake ain't comin' home,” Adam stated simply. Nathan remained calm, his reaction only a slight twitch of his eye as he fought the emotion that Adam knew was tearing at his insides. He turned his head toward Finn and Bonnie, who had pulled their horses up short to wait for Adam to greet his father. “This is Bonnie and Finn . . .” He paused then, trying to recall. “I can't remember your whole name, Finn.” He couldn't remember Bonnie's last name, either, but let it go at that.
“It's Michael,” Finn quickly replied, “Michael Finn, and I'm pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Right,” Adam continued. “Anyway, Jake was prospectin' with Finn for a while before he was killed.”
“Lord have mercy,” Mose uttered sorrowfully, “Jake dead?”
Nathan ignored Mose's lament and turned his attention to the strangers his son had brought to his home. “You folks must be tired. Looks like you've been ridin' awhile. Adam, maybe you can help Mose take care of the horses, and I'll see if Pearl can't rustle up somethin' to eat for Mr. and Mrs. Finn. Then you can tell me about your brother.” He didn't notice the quick smiles on Adam's and Bonnie's faces that his gracious invitation caused. They made no effort to correct his assumption, but Finn was quick to respond.
“She's not my wife,” he blurted. “She's just ridin' with us.”
“I beg your pardon,” Nathan said, then stood aside and motioned for them to come in. He was playing the part of the perfect host, but Adam knew he would take his grief to a private place later, when he could be alone.
Bonnie beamed her thanks for the invitation and headed for the door, but Finn held back, reluctant to take his eyes off his packs. Adam assured him that his mules, and the load on their backs, would be fine. So Finn followed Bonnie into the house, still with some reluctance.
When they had gone into the house, Mose stepped up beside Adam and whispered, “Where'd you pick up the horses? What's in them bags on them mules?”
“Somethin' Finn don't wanna lose,” Adam replied. “We'd best unload 'em and lock 'em in the tack room.”
“I knew it!” Mose said. “I knew right off there was pay dirt in them bagsâhad to be. Is part of it yours?”
“Nope, but we'd best protect it like it was.”
After the livestock were taken care of, Adam went back to the house to join his friends in a quick supper that Pearl, Nathan's half-Shoshoni cook, prepared. Mose would eat with Doc and the rest of the hands in the bunkhouse when the crew returned for supper. Ordinarily, Nathan and Adam would have eaten with the men in the bunkhouse as well.
During their supper, his guests related their hazardous journey to reach Nathan's ranch, and the fact that Adam had been kind enough to see them through. The details of the many killings, and Adam's finding of the mutilated body of his brother, were left to Adam and his father after the others had retired for the nightâBonnie to the front bedroom, and Finn to the barn to sleep in the tack room. Adam assured him that his packs would be safe there, but he understood why Finn was reluctant to have them out of his sight.
Father and son talked late into the night, and Adam tried to explain why he had to go back to Alder Gulch. “I know you say it ain't my fault about Jake, but I won't ever feel like I've done him justice if I let that one murderin' bastard get away with what he doneânot only for Jake, but for the girl Jake was plannin' to bring here to live.”
Finally, when Nathan was convinced that nothing he could say was going to change Adam's mind, he gave up trying. “What about the folks you brought home with you?” Nathan asked.
“I'm hopin' it'll be all right with you if they stay here for a spell till they decide what they're gonna do.”
“Sure,” Nathan said. “We've got plenty of room. They're welcome to stay.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then said, “If that Finn has as much gold dust as you say, I expect he won't be here long before he heads to Butte or Helena, or someplace else where he can spend it.”
“I wouldn't be surprised myself,” Adam agreed. “And I doubt if Bonnie will let him out of her sight.”
Nathan smiled. Then his expression turned serious again. “When are you plannin' to go back?”
“Tomorrowâdon't see any sense in waitin'. Cruz might decide to take off somewhere.”