The Bluebird

by Kristy McCaffrey

  “Do you think he found it?”

  Ivan shrugged but watched Jake with his good eye. “I’ve a feeling you’ve got some secrets yourself.”

  Jake looked down at the chunk of Pearl’s homemade bread in his hand and hunched his shoulders to shield it from the rain.

  “Just promise me something,” Ivan said.

  Jake flicked his gaze to the prospector pirate’s intense scrutiny as droplets pelted them.

  Ivan leaned forward. “If it comes to it, you’ll let it go.”

  Jake understood what he was saying—that no amount of riches was worth risking one’s life—but a part of him knew that if he was close, it would be difficult to back away. The heady sensation of seeking the unknown was only tempered by finding, at long last, the treasure. It was a game that Jake had played many times before, and he couldn’t deny he liked the challenge.

  “Could you, Ivan?”

  The man muttered an obscenity under his breath and shook his head.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  * * *

  Molly grunted as she lowered Nine Toes Bishop’s unconscious body over the ledge with the aid of the rope.

  “I’ve got him!” Pearl’s voice echoed from below.

  Having anchored her footing from inside the tunnel, Molly was immediately drenched by the downpour as she stepped from the confines of the shaft, peripherally aware that her attention was no longer on her fear of dark, confined places. Having a distraction clearly helped. Perhaps she’d found a cure to her panic.

  Slowly, she climbed down the ladder, careful not to entangle the rope still fastened around her waist. When she reached Pearl, the woman already had Nine Toes’ right arm over her shoulders. Molly braced herself on the opposite side, and together they carried him down the pathway, his legs dragging in the wet, muddy ground. The ache in her ankle was barely perceptible.

  Twice they stopped to catch their breath then continued on. Neither spoke; Molly didn’t have the energy for it. Together they pushed forward with one goal in mind—to get to the cabin as quickly as possible.

  When finally the homestead appeared, Molly willed herself to finish the trek and not drop Mister Bishop right where they stood. He did, after all, strike Pearl down and hold them at gunpoint. Was he worth all this effort? And was dragging him through the mud and rain the best course of action, considering his wound?

  Muffled barking from Grom greeted them as they came to the porch, and Mister Bishop stirred, sputtering and mumbling incoherently. He slipped from Molly’s grasp and fell onto the wooden planks.

  “Get up, Nine Toes,” Pearl demanded. “We’re almost there.”

  With one final push of effort, Molly and Pearl hauled him to the door. As soon as Pearl opened it, Grom burst forward, yipping and jumping on them. Molly put her free arm out to push the animal back.

  Once inside, Pearl grabbed a chair and released her side of Nine Toes. He sank against the seat, but Molly stayed near so he wouldn’t fall.

  “Let me strip the bed and put a blanket down,” Pearl said and hastily did just that.

  Grom whined excitedly, trying to lick Molly’s face as she leaned over, water dripping from her face and clothing. Rain continued pounding the roof in what sounded like a cacophony of gunfire.

  Pearl returned, and they both heaved Nine Toes’ dead weight from the chair and dragged him to the bed.

  “We’ve got to remove these wet clothes,” Pearl said. “Don’t want him catching a chill.”

  Together she and Pearl pulled the shirt over the man’s head, removed his boots, then trousers. Beneath his long underwear, which was soaked as well, there was a bright, red stain on his left side.

  Pearl sighed. “It’s all gotta come off.”

  Molly readied herself and nodded. While the thought of undressing Jake down to bare skin held great appeal to her, she had no desire to see Nine Toes Bishop in his birthday suit.

  Pearl grabbed an additional blanket. As they peeled the wet cotton material down his arms and still lower, Molly squinted so as to not see anything. Pearl quickly laid the blanket over Nine Toes’ private parts as Molly jumped to the foot of the bed and pulled the garment past his feet. She dropped the garb to the floor, and Pearl inspected the wound on Nine Toes’ side.

  “Don’t look like the bullet is still in there,” she said. “Probably grazed him. Get me some water and the carbolic acid in the sideboard. Should be needle and thread there also.”

  Molly grabbed the items along with fresh rags. As the older woman cleaned and stitched the wound, Molly built a fire in the stove. Grom grudgingly settled on the floor, watching every move Molly made, wagging his tail with a loud thwap each time she stepped near him.

  Pearl wrapped the wound then covered Nine Toes with more blankets from neck to feet.

  “Get changed out of those wet clothes, Molly. I can’t have you catching your death either.”

  Pearl was right. Just before Molly got the fire lit, her hands had stopped functioning as they should. It had been troublesome, to say the least. Molly had been amazed that Pearl had the faculties to thread the needle and close Nine Toes’ wound.

  She and Pearl stripped out of their blouses and skirts, not quite as heavy with water as when they’d first entered the cabin, and donned dry clothing. Weary, they both collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, finally able to rest.

  A purple welt had formed above Pearl’s left eye.

  “Are you all right?” Molly asked, indicating the spot where Nine Toes had obviously hit Pearl with the butt of his gun.

  Pearl’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll live.”

  “Do you think he will?” Molly glanced at Nine Toes’ inert body, the chest barely rising and falling.

  Pearl scowled, watching her patient. “After all this trouble, he’d better.”

  “Do you think he killed Pedro?”

  “If he did, at least we know that Jake and Ivan aren’t in danger.”

  But Pearl’s explanation didn’t ease Molly’s anxiety. What about the two prospectors—Marcus and Jim—that she and Jake had seen? What if they had done it, as Jake suspected all along?

  Her gaze landed on Nine Toes. As soon as he awoke, she’d ask him exactly what had happened because she was uncertain how long she could remain in the cabin, worrying and wondering about Jake and Ivan. She suppressed the urge to follow after them…for now.

  * * *

  Jake woke before dawn, stiff from his bed of damp pine needles. He and Ivan had been forced to bed down in the swath of forest where they’d taken refuge from the storm. Thankfully, the rain had stopped although thick, heavy clouds continued to hug the sky.

  Ivan groaned. “I’m gettin’ too old for this.”

  “Maybe you should start prospecting down in the Arizona Territory.”

  Ivan chuckled. “I s’pose, but maybe it’s you who should think about that. You’ve got yourself a good reason to head south.”

  A smile tugged at Jake’s mouth. Could he give up the Bluebird and all the possibilities it offered for a woman? Couldn’t he somehow have it all?

  Frustration flared, then retreated just as quickly. If he tied himself to Molly Rose, would he regret it? At the same time, letting her go caused a flutter of confusion in his chest. Damn. Life would be much simpler if he’d never laid eyes on her.

  He and Ivan didn’t dawdle and were soon headed to the site of the body. Skirting the last location of Marcus and Jim, Jake spied no sign of their camp although an inspection showed the washed out remains of a fire pit. Jake guided Fernando to the dip in the ground where Molly had found Pedro. It should be easy to find the body. The rain had likely exposed it, but when he got to the area, nothing was visible.

  Dismounting, Jake dropped Fernando’s reins to the ground and walked back and forth in a grid pattern, kicking rocks and possible indentations, searching for a head or hand or foot.

  Nothing.

  Pacing nearby, Ivan glanced up from his search. “You sure this is the righ
t spot?”

  Jake nodded slowly. The burial spot did have a deeper depression than what would be normal, and the grass had been disturbed making him certain this was the location. He returned to his horse and grabbed a shovel then proceeded to dig in several places.

  Still nothing.

  Jake paused, scanning the area.

  “Should I worry that you’re losing your mind?” Ivan asked.

  “Maybe I have. Or maybe those two prospectors dug up the body and took it with them.”

  “Why on earth would they do that?”

  Jake wiped sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve. “So they wouldn’t get caught for murder.”

  * * *

  It was early afternoon when Molly wiped Nine Toes’ face with a wet cloth, and his eyes opened.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Like dynamite exploded inside me.” He grunted and tried to move. Molly pushed him back down.

  The sound of horses approaching the house drew her attention. A glance to Pearl in the kitchen confirmed what they both thought. Molly went to the front door and opened it as Jake and Ivan swung down from their horses.

  She ran to Jake, threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

  He grinned against her mouth. “I missed you too, Chigger.”

  She kissed him again, not caring about such a blatant display in front of Ivan and Pearl. When she finally slid away from Jake, he kept an arm anchored at her waist.

  “Why don’t I get a greeting like that?” Ivan grumbled to his wife.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Pearl replied, ignoring the question. She planted hands on her hips. “Nine Toes Bishop is inside. He was shot.”

  “What the hell happened to you?” Ivan asked, moving quickly to Pearl’s side and touching her forehead. The welt had darkened to a deep purple and had bled under the skin, beginning to migrate around her eye.

  “It was in the tunnel you told us to go to,” Molly said. “Nine Toes was there and he struck Pearl, and then he collapsed. We had to drag him back here.” She tilted her head to look at Jake. “He said he’d been in the area with Pedro. Did you find the body? It was Pedro, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Jake replied, “but we didn’t find anything. The body’d been moved. What did Nine Toes say?”

  “He’s just awoken.” Pearl slipped into Ivan’s arms. “I’m glad you’ve returned. We’d best talk to him. He’s been feverish. There’s no tellin’ which way this could go.”

  Ivan nodded. “We’ll get the horses settled and be right in.”

  Jake dropped another kiss on Molly’s mouth, released her and led Fernando to the shed. Although dazed by the brief encounter, she was heartily glad to see him. How had she become so attached in such a short time?

  * * *

  “Is Pedro really dead?” Nine Toes rasped, weakened from his wound, barely able to lift his head from the pillow.

  “I’d say so,” Jake replied, arms crossed across his chest as he stood at the foot of the bed where Bishop lay. While he didn’t know Nine Toes well, of late the man had been seen in the company of Pedro. “Did you shoot him?”

  “No. I’m shot myself.” Anger strained the wounded man’s ashen face, his scraggly beard covering his neck.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “We was in the valley up north of here. We had an argument with two other prospectors about territory, and it turned ugly. I ran, but it’s difficult, you know, with my rheumatism and losing a toe to the gout. I assumed Pedro was right behind me, but I never saw him after that.” He paused to clear his throat, which caused him to wince in pain. “I found that old tunnel near here and hid out. That’s when Pearl and Molly found me.”

  “Why’d you hit her?” Ivan bellowed.

  Jake suppressed a wave of desperate rage. “And you held a gun on the women.” When Molly told him what had happened, icy tendrils of terror had gripped his gut.

  Nine Toes swallowed reflexively and gestured at the women who hovered nearby. “How’d I know they weren’t with those men?”

  “Why would Marcus and Jim bury Pedro, then dig him up?” Ivan asked.

  “I dunno.”

  Jake pinned him with a hard stare. “What are you and Pedro doing around here?” With all the recent activity, it would only be a matter of time before one of these prospectors discovered the area surrounding the Chigger and the other two claims Jake planned to file. He didn’t have much time.

  Nine Toes sighed. “Prospectin’. What else?”

  “He’s lookin’ for the Bluebird,” Pearl said.

  “There’s no crime in that,” Nine Toes defended, eyes bulging.

  “But there has been a crime.” Jake lifted his hat and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Pedro is dead.”

  “Maybe his partner killed him.”

  Jake frowned. Pedro worked alone. The fact that he’d been spending time with Nine Toes lately had been odd. “Who’s his partner?”

  “Some fella named Charlie.”

  “Have you met this Charlie?” Ivan asked.

  “Nope. But Pedro was gonna cut me in, depending on what we found.”

  Well, doesn’t that make me feel like a selfish ass. Jake glanced at Molly, standing off to his left. When she’d rushed into his arms upon his and Ivan’s return, the sensation of rightness, of coming home to a place where he finally belonged, had sliced right through him. The thought of always having Molly Rose to greet him at the end of the day, to wrap her arms around him and kiss him with that special light in her eyes that she’d bestowed on him, called to him more deeply than he could’ve imagined. But in light of the violence occurring, he wouldn’t risk her safety, and putting her name on those claims would do just that. He needed to stay the course and move forward with his original plan.

  Pounding on the door startled all of them.

  Pearl opened it. Robert stared back at them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You sure about Pedro?” Robert watched the horses in the tiny corral as he and Jake stood side by side, the sun sliding toward the western edge of the mountains.

  “As near as I can be.”

  “The prospectors you ran into were called Marcus and Jim?”

  Jake nodded. “You know ’em?”

  “Of a sort. I heard talk that Winston had grubstaked a couple men. It might be them.”

  Jake considered the possibility. “Why in the hell would he do that? He’s as bound to Lannigan as you are.”

  “I’m guessing for the same reason I didn’t put the Chigger in my name. He’s trying to keep his interests separate.”

  “Lannigan will never take this lying down.”

  Robert turned to him. “You think he had Pedro killed?”

  “Marcus and Jim may have done it, but maybe someone else was behind it.”

  “Did you find the Chigger?”

  “Yep. It looks good. I’ve got samples to take back to town.”

  “You find anything else?”

  “I staked a claim higher up.” A lie felt better if it was couched with a bit of truth. Jake had learned that during his smuggling days.

  “You want me to go to the claims office with you?” Robert’s tone was light, but Jake didn’t miss the edge.

  Jake played along. “If you like.”

  Robert watched him. “I think I’ll go into that valley tomorrow.”

  “Not alone. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s not very safe around here.”

  “Fine.” Robert exhaled then laughed. “Everybody’s on edge these days.”

  “Even you?” Jake watched him out of the corner of his eye. “How’s Bridget?”

  Robert shook his head, resting his arms on the railing. “We had a fight. I’d say we’re about done.”

  “You all right with that?”

  Robert hung his head. “Hell no.” He muttered under his breath. “I got it bad.”

  Jake clapped Robert on the shoulder. The same predicament had snagged him as
well, but there was no reason to voice it aloud. He knew what he’d have to do to make all of this right at the end of the day, both with the Chigger—which was possibly the sought-after Bluebird lode—and with Molly. But over the years, he’d seen more than his share of plans go up in smoke. There was no guarantee of success. All of it could easily slip through his fingers.

  He itched to drag Molly to the shed and enjoy everything she offered before she found a reason to spurn him, but that would make him a self-centered cad, and he was trying like hell to be the good guy in all this.

  Changing the subject from their love lives, Jake said, “Let’s go check out that tunnel where Nine Toes was hiding out.”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious about something.”

  * * *

  Molly sat at the kitchen table, writing in her journal, while Pearl mended a shirt. Grom was at her feet, and Nine Toes slept fitfully in the bed. Ivan, Jake and Robert had gone back to the tunnel where they’d found Nine Toes.

  Molly paused her pencil over the parchment at the sound of a horse approaching. Her eyes met Pearl’s, worry reflecting back at her.

  Molly stood and closed the curtains on both of the windows. Perhaps the rider would pass on by if he thought no one was at home. It was a ridiculous hope. There were no other cabins for miles. Why wouldn’t a rider stop?

  She retrieved her Colt from where she’d left it by the front door when Grom stood on all fours and began to bark. Pearl grabbed the shotgun and moved beside her.

  The horse stopped outside, and footfalls resounded as the rider climbed the porch and knocked on the front door.

  “Is anyone here?” asked a familiar woman’s voice.

  Molly set her gun down and removed the slat blocking the door. As she opened it, she was stunned by the blue eyes and flushed cheeks that greeted her.