The Bluebird

by Kristy McCaffrey

  “Men like James Winston?” Molly asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Did you sign a contract?” Bridget articulated her words into the taut atmosphere of the cabin. Molly had a new appreciation for her brother’s fiancée as she carefully attempted to extract information from the woman.

  Charlotte sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Yup.”

  “I expect you have it on you. Can I see it?”

  Wariness clouded Charlotte’s eyes. “I don’t know why I should show it to you.”

  “I’ve a feeling something’s wrong with it. I might be able to help you, Miss Cohen.”

  The woman considered the request, then reached into a haversack draped across her body and rummaged around until she found the document. She handed it across the table.

  Bridget scanned the paper.

  “I’ll admit I regret the ninety-ten split,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t have much negotiating power at the time. When I met Pedro, and he told me what the Bluebird could really be worth, I realized the mistake I’d made.”

  “Is that why Pedro was trying to hide anything of worth that you found?” Molly asked. “Was he going to file the claim himself when you located it?”

  Charlotte nervously licked her lips. “Somethin’ like that.”

  Bridget raised her gaze and took a deep breath. “The terms of this contract are terrible—the worst I’ve ever seen, but you’ll be happy to know that it’s not valid.”

  “It’s not?” Charlotte asked, surprised.

  “I’ve drawn up such agreements for my pa and have been present at the signings. Such transactions usually occur at First National Bank and are witnessed by Charles Henderson, the president. He and my pa are good friends. But there are no witnesses on this contract. If you show this to a judge, you could make a very strong argument against its validity. I believe that you could win.”

  Shock froze Charlotte’s face. “You think I could?”

  Bridget gave a curt nod. “I just can’t figure why my pa did this. He has to know this wouldn’t hold up if any subsequent claim ever went into a dispute.”

  “He’d have to make certain the claim was in his name then,” Pearl said.

  Molly looked at Charlotte. “He must’ve planned to have you find the Bluebird, but then he would file the claim himself. With a bad contract, you’d have no recourse.”

  “Molly’s right,” Bridget said. “He never intended to give you a cut.”

  Charlotte’s eyes flashed with anger, reminding Molly that the woman might still carry a vendetta against Jake. It would help if they could gain her confidence.

  “Why does Shep Lannigan think you can find the Bluebird?” Molly asked.

  Charlotte ruminated for a long moment. “It’s a good story,” she nodded and laughed, the cackle ripping into the silence, “and now you tell me that Shep can’t take it from me. Alright, I’ll tell you.

  “I’d never been close to my pa when I was a girl. I grew up in Ohio with an aunt because my mama died young, and my pa went west to find his fortune. One day, when I was grown, he reappeared, and we had a few years before he up and died. He would tell me the most outrageous tales of his experiences in the mountains searching for silver and gold. But there was one story in particular. It went like this.

  “He got himself trapped high up on a ledge ’cause Indians came. They made camp and all he could do was wait and hope they didn’t find him even though his gear and animals was down below in the valley. So while he was trapped, he made an incredible find—a thick vein of what he was certain was gold.”

  A sly smile tugged at her mouth. “Who around here doesn’t speak of the Bluebird in hushed tones? Who around here doesn’t dream of finding it?”

  “You know the exact location?” Bridget asked.

  “I have information my papa gave me, but he was never able to return, and it’s clear now his memory may have been faulty. But Pedro was helping me. I know I’m close.”

  “How about we go with you into the mountains,” Molly said, keeping the knowledge of Jake’s claims to herself. There was no guarantee one of them was the Bluebird anyway. And if one was, Molly was uncertain how Charlotte might react to the news. It was probably best to keep an eye on the woman.

  “Why?” Charlotte asked.

  “I have some idea where this ledge of your pa’s might be.”

  Charlotte eyed her with suspicion. “What’re you sayin’?”

  Too late, Molly tried to cover her tracks. “Time is of the essence right now, Charlie. If you want to have your hand in the pie, we need to ride now.”

  “I aim to have the whole pie.” Charlotte angrily bit out each word.

  “I’d say the time for that has passed,” Pearl said, “but let’s get moving so we can get you better than ten percent.”

  Molly hoped that what she’d done at the claims office had been the right thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shep pointed a rifle at Jake. “Drop your holster.”

  He didn’t think Shep would really shoot him…but then again, maybe he would. The lure of riches did funny things to a man’s mind. Jake unbuckled his gun belt and dropped it to the ground.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about this?” Shep asked.

  “It hasn’t been for lack of trying,” Jake said. No sense in attempting to sugarcoat it. “There’s been a lot going on behind your back.”

  “No doubt.” Shep flicked a nod in Jake’s direction. “Step back.”

  Slowly, Jake moved five paces from his gun. “How’d you find me?”

  “Archie told me.”

  How in the hell did Archie know? Had it been Molly? And if it was, had she spoken deliberately or under duress?

  Jake had managed to hide his surprise, but he gave the warning in his voice free rein. “You’d better leave the girls out of it.”

  “And which girls are those?”

  Jake frowned. Was Lannigan being purposely obtuse or just playing plain dumb?

  “Well, your own daughter for one,” Jake uttered.

  “Bridget’s loyal. Did you think you could sway her with your charms?”

  “There seemed to be a time when you thought she could do that to me. But what’s done is done. She’s got her sights set on Robert, and for some goddamned reason, he’s willing to put up with her.”

  “Any man would be lucky to have Bridget, but I’m not about to hand her over. Make no mistake, any interest you might’ve had in her would never have led to anything permanent.”

  “I guess Robert didn’t get that memo.”

  “Robert served a purpose, but he’s not behaving as he should.”

  “Careful, Shep,” Jake said. “You’re starting to sound like the monster everyone thinks you are.”

  “I’m just a good businessman, that’s all.”

  Jake couldn’t contain his laugh of derision. “That’s utter bullshit. You’re a liar and a cheat. You take what doesn’t belong to you.”

  “You’re still sore about the Shanghai, but that doesn’t entitle you to the Bluebird.”

  “It sure as hell doesn’t entitle you.” Jake sobered. “So tell me how you do it? Who doctors the paperwork in the claims office?”

  “That’s a bold accusation to be making, son, even for one called The Jackal. You best be careful, lest the evidence find its way back to you.”

  Shit. A tendril of fear shot through Jake’s gut. Lannigan’s threat was real.

  “You better show me what you’ve found,” Shep added.

  Reluctantly, Jake grabbed his knapsack and moved away from his weapon, heading into the valley.

  * * *

  Molly led the way on horseback, Charlie riding double with her, since she had no mount. Pearl followed on her mule, and Bridget brought up the rear. They rode in the dark, Molly struggling to stay on course.

  She halted her horse and waited for Bridget and Pearl to catch up. “I’m just not certain this is the right way. It’s so dark, it’s difficu
lt to recognize the path.”

  “Are you headed to the Glen Valley?” Pearl asked.

  “I don’t know the name of the place where Robert staked the Chigger.”

  “Based on what you’ve said, I believe it’s one and the same. Ivan and I have poked around. We never did find anything of value, but—”

  “Then why are we headed there?” Charlie demanded.

  “It doesn’t mean there isn’t anything to discover,” Pearl continued. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to locate decent lodes in these hills?” Pearl shook her head, clearly fed up with the woman. “How long have you been searching for the Bluebird? A month or two? There are men in these parts who’ve been looking for years, and they have some idea of what they’re doing.” Pearl paused and let out an irritated huff. “I know an easier way into that valley.”

  Molly nearly wept with relief. “There’s a different path?” She didn’t want to climb that treacherous, steep wall of granite again. “Can you find it in the dark?”

  “I think so,” Pearl replied. “Let me take the lead.”

  Molly gratefully let her horse fall in line behind Pearl’s mule.

  * * *

  The alternate entrance to the valley proved tricky to locate. After three false leads, Pearl finally found it. Ducking under a low overhang of rock, they were able to lead their horses on foot. When they cleared the narrow pathway and emerged into the valley, Molly knew that Jake’s claims could be worked far easier with this passageway.

  The snap of a twig had the horses dancing and tugging at the reins. As Molly sought to soothe her animal, Charlie raised her gun from where she stood off to the right.

  “I’ll shoot!” she yelled.

  “Pearl, is that you?” a man’s voice called from the shadows.

  Pearl pushed past Charlie. “Ivan?”

  He stepped out, weapon at the ready, along with Robert limping by his side.

  “You hold it right there,” Charlie demanded.

  “This is my husband. Put your gun down!”

  “What’re you doin’ here?” Ivan asked.

  “Looking for the Bluebird, what else?” Pearl wrapped her arms around him.

  When Charlie noticed Robert, she raised her gun again. “You were in that tunnel.”

  Robert tensed but didn’t move. “You’re the one who shot me?”

  “There were samples in there and they was mine.”

  Bridget rushed from behind Molly, but Robert barreled into his fiancée, pushing them both to the ground as Charlie discharged her weapon.

  Pearl screamed.

  In a red rage, Molly punched Charlie square in the jaw, howling as pain shot through her hand and down her arm. As the woman went down, she swung her pistol, catching Molly on the cheek with the barrel and sending her stumbling backwards, reeling from the blow.

  As Molly sought to get her bearings, Robert scrambled along the ground and wrested the gun from Charlie’s hands. Both Ivan and Pearl grabbed the woman and held her in place.

  Robert stepped back, glancing at both Molly and Bridget. “Who the hell is this?”

  “Her name is Charlotte Cohen,” Bridget said. “My pa hired her to find the Bluebird.”

  “Is there anyone your pa hasn’t hired?” Robert asked, his anger hanging around him like a cloak. He shifted to his injured leg and winced.

  “I’m not sorry I shot you,” Charlotte spat out, still struggling against Pearl and Ivan. “You need to stay away from what’s mine.”

  Robert pulled Molly to her feet and nailed her with a look that said, “This woman is unhinged.” Maybe he was right. Charlotte had tried to hurt her brother twice now. There was no telling what might happen when they found Jake.

  “You’ve left us no choice, Charlotte,” Molly said, trying to calm her nerves. “We need to tie you up.”

  She retrieved a coil of rope from her horse. It took all of them to hold the writhing, cursing she-cat down while Robert bound both her hands and feet.

  Molly stepped back to catch her breath. “Where’s Jake?”

  “He left camp alone sometime during the night,” Robert said. “Ivan remembered this pathway, and we only just got here before you all came along.”

  The pain in Molly’s hand was suddenly gone, eclipsed by icy fear coursing through her veins. “Have you seen James Winston?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I’ve a feeling he’s looking for you. We should get to the Chigger.”

  Ivan looked at Charlotte squirming on the ground. “What’re we going to do with her?”

  “I guess we take her with us,” Robert replied, but his voice conveyed his reluctance. “Ivan, help me lift her atop the mule.”

  The two men hefted Charlie across the animal, face down, her stomach hugging the saddle.

  “You no-good, rotten bastards,” she screamed. “I will have the Bluebird, goddammit. You’ve no right to it.”

  Robert stepped away from the volatile woman. “What the devil is wrong with her?”

  “It seems her father was the mythical prospector who found the lode years ago after being trapped on a ledge by Indians,” Molly said. “She didn’t seem this crazed earlier. I thought we’d gotten through to her.”

  “Does she have a contract with Lannigan?” Robert asked.

  “She does, but it’s worthless,” Bridget replied. “My pa saw to that.”

  “I can hear you!” Charlie spit.

  “Then why don’t you calm down?” Molly demanded. “I was of a mind to let you have an adjacent claim, but now you’re just acting like a lunatic.”

  Molly grabbed a bandanna from her saddlebag and roughly tied it off around Charlie’s head, muffling the worst of the woman’s noise. “I’m sorry for this, truly I am, but you could’ve killed my brother or Bridget, for God’s sake.”

  Charlie screamed and tried to fling herself from the mule. Robert got more rope and secured her to the animal.

  Bridget took Charlie’s weapon for herself, and Molly pulled the Colt Lightning from her gear.

  “Let’s go,” Robert said.

  In a single line, they entered the hidden valley as dawn began turning the sky to gray.

  * * *

  Jake paused to catch a breath as a ray of sunlight crested the ridge and blinded him.

  “Don’t stop.” Lannigan nudged him from behind.

  They stood on the steep, east-facing cliffside, where Robert had staked the Chigger. And if all had gone well in town for Molly, then Jake should now be the proud owner of two claims in the same locale. The big question was just how far was Lannigan willing to go to take what he thought belonged to him.

  Jake made a mental note to find a damn good lawyer when he got back to town—one preferably not from Creede, so as to avoid Lannigan’s influence—and shore up his claims as quickly as possible to avoid what had occurred with the Shanghai.

  “Show me the vein, goddammit,” Shep demanded.

  Jake bit back a retort and glanced upward. His eye caught a flash of movement on the upper slope. Not wanting to alert Lannigan, Jake moved forward slowly. Was it friend or foe?

  An explosion blasted the rock above. Jake instinctively ducked then took off running. A second splintering crack knocked his feet out from him, and he rolled and slipped more than ten feet before regaining his balance.

  Rocks and boulders rained down on him. Shep was nowhere to be seen, but Jake didn’t wait around to find him.

  A third thundering rumble made everything go dark.

  * * *

  Three dynamite blasts shook the mountain. Stunned, Molly and the others watched the ensuing avalanche of rocks and debris as it careened down the mountainside.

  Jake!

  Molly bolted, leaving the others, and frantically ran upward. Carrying the gun proved awkward, but she didn’t want to abandon it. She hiked her skirt up and climbed, her legs muscles straining, sweat trailing down her back.

  Periodically she stopped to gain her bearings and catch her breath, and saw
that Robert and Bridget weren’t far behind, Robert somehow making good headway despite his injured leg. Farther back were Pearl and Ivan and, surprisingly, Charlie. They must’ve untied her.

  Molly kept going, not wanting any of them to pass her.

  They’d have to deal with Charlotte Cohen later.

  As Molly came to the worst of the debris field, she slipped repeatedly on the unsteady surface. Her knees ached with bruises, and she winced from her ankles twisting.

  “Jake!” She searched for signs of anyone. “Jake!”

  She continued scrambling over the scree, the sun now beating down on her.

  Maybe he isn’t here.

  She hoped it was true, but she had to keep looking. What if he was buried? She began scanning the rubble for any sign of a body or clothing. She was pretty certain she was near the place where she and Jake had found the Chigger, where he had probably discovered the gold nugget.

  She took a horizontal path, thinking that a body would’ve been pushed downward, moving quickly but at the same time frantically examining the rocky remains.

  The hump of a man, slumped over, materialized at the same time a gunshot ricocheted nearby. Screaming, she crouched and crawled toward the body. When she encountered a dip in the ground, the gunman stopped shooting, having likely lost her. She scrambled desperately to the man and tugged at his shoulders to flip him over.

  Shep Lannigan.

  Blood covered his face and stained his shirt, but his chest moved. He was alive.

  Molly peeked upward, wondering where the shooter was. The compulsion to keep moving and find Jake was nearly overwhelming, but she didn’t want to get shot. Looking behind her, she couldn’t see Robert or Bridget.

  Molly shook the man lying unconscious beside her. “Mister Lannigan, wake up.” She hesitated for a moment, then slapped his cheek. “Wake up, sir. I can’t leave you here, and I certainly can’t carry you.”

  Another shake produced a moan from the man.

  “Are you hurt, Mister Lannigan?”