by Danni Roan
“It’s something seeing all these wild places,” Titus agreed.
“Makes you feel small and big all at the same time.” Bailey said.
Titus thought about it for a while. He was a man who didn’t know his place, a man who had followed what felt right and hoped that in the end things would work their way out.
Days with Jed, he’d been busy; working himself to exhaustion most nights and keeping the thoughts and worries about a life gone at bay.
Now his mind turned back to the past. Who was he? Where did he come from? Had he left loved ones behind?
There were no answers, only brief notions; glimpses of things that seemed distantly familiar.
After the flash from earlier that day he wondered if he’d been a farmer. Some things seemed to come easy to him, as if he’d been born to them, and somehow his body had remembered what his mind had forgotten.
Working with Jed, he’d had no trouble swinging a pick or using a shovel. His hands were hard and calloused; accustomed to work.
“You alright over there?” Bailey asked.
“Just thinkin’,” Titus replied. “You see when Jed found me I’d been shot,” he finally confessed. “A bullet had grazed my temple, and when I came to, I didn’t know who I was. Still don’t.”
“No kid’n?” Bailey asked in wonder.
“Nope.”
“Well you must be alright,” Bailey said, “If you were a bad man I reckon you’d have already showed signs of it instead of gettin’ yourself a badge and helping out a friend.”
Titus smiled he could only hope that Bailey was right.
“I SURE CAN UNDERSTAND why them cowpokes called this place the maze,” Bailey said, drinking from the canteen on his saddle. “You run into more dead end canyons than not every which way you go.”
Titus had to agree. The only redeeming thing about that maze was that so far they’d been able to find enough food and water for themselves and their mounts.
“It’s a crazy place,” Titus agreed.
“I done seen about fifteen places a fella could stash just about anything he wanted to until folks kinda forget about it then maybe come back and fetch it.”
“I think that’s exactly what these outlaws do,” Titus said, pushing his horse forward again. “I think they hide their ill-gotten gains here in the maze then come back for it when the law’s lost interest in them.”
“Well I haven’t lost interest in getting’ my horse and rig back,” Bailey offered belligerently. “I was partial to the things I had and that horse as well. Good steady animal it was.”
“Well I hope we find them soon,” Titus offered hopefully. Then we can make our way out of here and into a landscape that makes sense again.”
“Look there,” Bailey said, waving Titus near, “that’s my bay’s track, clear as day.”
Titus leaned out of the saddle and studied the hoof print. “How old do you think?”
“A day or two at the most,” Bailey said looking up at the sky. “Ain’t had no rain lately, so it’s nice and clear.”
Titus shifted in his saddle, looking up at the ridges and high walls of the canyon. In the distance he could hear the bawling of cows and tugging his hat down tight he headed in the direction the sound was coming from.
Bailey eased his rifle on his knees, nodded and fell in behind Titus.
The small running iron fire was blazing as they rode up on three men fiddling a brand on a large calf.
One man, his black beard dusted with sand held the line tight on the animal while two others pressed the glowing iron to its hip.
“I wouldn’t move if I was you,” Bailey said, his rifle aimed at the two men on the ground.
The third man dropped the rope he’d been holding and bolted, driving his spurs viciously into his horses sides.
Titus kicked his mount into a dead run, racing up along the other man and leaping from the saddle dragging them both to the earth.
The big man with the black beard rolled, jumped to his feet and swung, but Titus ducked under the fist and brought an uppercut to the man’s chin rocking him to his heels.
The other man snarled, shaking his head and charged Titus knocking him to the ground, but Titus twisted out of the way and came up with another punch to the man’s bearded jaw.
With a heavy crash the other man slumped to the ground unconscious.
Titus looked up in time to see the calf trot away and the other two men trust with the rope that had been using to hold the cow.
“You done with yours?” Bailey asked grinning. “Cause I’d like my horse back now.” He nodded to black beards horse that stood several feet away nibbling grass.
Titus nodded, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.
“I think we might have made ourselves a bit more work,” He said grabbing the other man by the shirt and dragging him toward the fire. “Now we have cows to drive back up the trail.”
“Long as I don’t have to ride the mule it’s good for me.” Bailey said making Titus laugh.
Chapter 12
“THERE’S A REWARD FOR each and every one of these fella’s,” the sheriff of Moab said when Titus and Bailey rolled into town. “Looks like I can add cattle rustling to the charges as well.”
“And horse thieving’.”Bailey said.
“Well I do thank you two; this one alone’s been all over this area.” He nodded at the man with the black beard.
The man glared at Titus and Bailey from his spot in a cell.
“Sheriff I appreciate your help,” Titus said. “I’ll be glad to get back to Hester and let Jed know that the men who left him for dead have been brought to justice.”
“Well if you men ever need a job, be sure to come back this way. The maze has been a curse to my existence ever since I took this job.”
Titus shook hands with the sheriff who then handed him an envelope. “It’s the reward. You two have earned it.”
“You headed back to Hester?” Bailey asked as they stepped out of the sheriff’s office.
“That’s the plan,” Titus agreed. I’ve been tracking this lot for nearly three months now, and I’ll be glad to see how Jed’s doing.”
“I guess I’ll ride a piece with you if you’ll have me,” Bailey said. “Now I got my horse back, I might even enjoy the company.”
Titus laughed slapping his new friend on the back. “You’re welcome along anytime Bailey, and I think we’ll both be eatin’ a little better now with that reward money.”
Bailey laughed. “It’s been kind of an adventure,” he said. “Like folks read in them books.”
Together the two men made their way to the livery and their mounts.
It had been quiet the juggling act getting the cows back up the mountain to Alder and his boys and keeping an eye on the outlaws. Titus thought more than once that Bailey would shoot one of them as a warning, but they’d all made it to the summit in one piece only to have to take the road back down to reach the sheriff.
“You fella’s heading out?” Alder asked as Titus and Bailey stepped into the livery.
“We are,” Titus said.
“Well, I thank you for findin’ my cows and bringin’ those no goods into the law,” Alder said offering his hand.
“We appreciate your help as well,” Titus said. “I can head back to old Jed with an easy mind now.”
“If you fellas ever get back this way, you look me up now.” Alder said with a wave. “You’ll always be welcome at my fire.”
Chapter 13
“YOU BRUNG ‘EM IN DID ya?” Jed asked with a grin as he sat across the table from Titus.
“Yes sir,” Titus said, digging into his pie at the widow Bitters’ boarding house.
Old Jed chuckled, “I figured you would,” he chortled. “You got sand boy and you stick to a thing.”
“So are you planning on going back out to the dig?” Titus asked accepting a cup of hot coffee from the spry little woman who ran the establishment.
“No, I’m afraid my
days as a prospector is over,” Jed said. “I’m getting’ married,” he added with a grin as he reached for Mrs. Bitters’ hand.
“Married?” Titus nearly choked on his pie.
“Yes, married. Birdie and me we found we get along real good and what with both of us not getting’ any younger, we figured we could help each other out runnin’ this here boarding house.”
Titus looked between the grizzled old man and the petite older woman then smiled. “I guess congratulations are in order then,” he said reaching across the table to shake both parties by the hand.
“Now that don’t mean you can’t go on out and work that claim,” Jed spoke up again. “Your names on that claim fair and true.”
Titus ran a hand over his face. He was weary from his long dusty ride back to Hester, and the thought of traipsing back out into the desert to dig rock had little appeal.
“I think my silver mining days are done.” he admitted. “It just won’t be the same without you.” He grinned making Jed chuckle.
“Well what ya gonna do with yourself then?”
Titus squirmed in his chair, “The sheriff offered me a job as his deputy,” he finally admitted.
“Sounds like a good job too, seeing how you already got experience.”
“What about your friend?” Mrs. Bitters asked.
“He’s movin’ on,” Titus said. “Seems he doesn’t like to stay in one place to long. He says he’s got the wander-lust.”
“Some folks do,” Mrs. Bitters said refilling his cup, “just can’t seem to settle anywhere.”
“I dropped the rest of the ore over at the assayers’ office by the way,” Titus said rising from his chair. “Bailey and me brought in what we’d already dug. I figured I’d give him a cut for his help.”
“Fair enough,” Jed said. “You do what you think best.” He patted Mrs. Bitters hand, “Birdie and me we got all we need right here.”
“THAT’S A FAIR BIT OF money for just pickin’ up rocks,” Bailey said as he saddled his horse in preparations to leave Hester.
“You worked just as hard as I did,” Titus insisted. “Just be mindful of your cash, maybe keep a bit in your boot for safety’s sake.”
He stopped, his mind going to something, a hint of a thought.
“You havin’ a memory again?” Bailey asked.
“I don’t know,” Titus admitted. “I seem to remember something about hiding money in a boot, but I can’t pin it down.”
“Maybe your pa taught you to do that; it’s wisdom.” Bailey said.
Titus shook his head. It had been more than a year now since Old Jed had taken him in, and he still couldn’t remember where he’d come from.
“Don’t push it Titus,” Bailey said, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll come when it’s ready.”
Titus nodded. “I’m glad I had a chance to ride the trails with you,” he said. “If you ever need to reach me, you can write to Jed. I’ll find a way to get it.”
Bailey stuck out his hand shaking Titus’s. “Been a fine ride,” he offered then swung up on his horse and turned for the trails.
Titus watched his friend go hoping that the trail before him was smooth and that someday Bailey would find the home he had never needed.
Watching the big bay and the wiry blonde man trot out of town Titus wondered what the future would hold for him. Would he ever know where he’d come from? Only time would tell.
SUMMER TURNED TO AUTUMN, and autumn turned to winter with a rare light skiff of snow and an icy breeze.
“I got a job for ya,” Sheriff Davis said as Titus poured himself another cup of coffee to ward of the chill.
“It’s been pretty quiet here, what could you have for me to do?” Titus asked turning and looking out over the town beneath its quiet blanket.
“I got a notice the other day from a friend of mine by the name of Pike, said he had a missing persons report of a family who was making their way to Biders Clump and haven’t made it yet?”
“Doesn’t he have folks who can track ‘em?” Titus asked, he didn’t relish the idea of heading north in this weather.
“Problem is they come in from down this way and should have arrived over a month ago.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Titus turned and looked at Sheriff Davis.
“No it don’t. Me and Pike figure maybe somethin’ happened closer to this side, so he wired me and asked if I’d take a look.”
“When do you need me to go?” Titus asked. “You want me to ride out today?”
“Best leave it for the morning. This snow will be gone before supper tonight so might just as well wait on it.”
“I’ll get my gear together,” Titus said simply, putting his cup down and heading for the Boarding house where he stayed with Jed and Birdie.
“YOU’LL BE CAREFUL NOW won’t you?” Birdie asked as Titus hefted his saddle bags and gear the next morning.
“I’ll be careful,” Titus smiled noting Jed’s hidden chuckle behind his coffee cup.
“And you’ll write when you can?” Birdie continued, handing him the scarf she’d knitted him.”
“Yes ma’am.” Titus agreed.
Birdie reached up and patted him on the cheek. “We’ll pray for ya.”
Titus shook Jed’s hand then stepped through the door. The weather was still cool, but the snow was gone, and he could only hope it didn’t catch up with him further north.
Chapter 14
FOLLOWING THE WELL traveled tracks of wagons across Nevada as they turned north east toward Wyoming, Titus wondered if he’d ever been this far before. So for him the trail seemed new if not interesting.
He wondered about the town he’d been called to service for and though his curiosity was piqued by the strange name, he hoped he wouldn’t have to travel all the way to Sheriff Pike’s front door.
Along the way he stopped at farms asking after the family who had been traveling to Biders Clump to join family in the town.
Some days he’d find a person who would remember the family, other days he couldn’t find any hint of the travelers.
After five days of tracking them, he stopped in a town in Utah to wire the sheriff his lack of news.
Davis,
Tracking the travelers. Made my way to Sandy. No further word. Heading into Wyoming next. Weather holding.
Titus.
“You headin’ north young man?” the telegraph operator asked studying Titus after he’d sent the message.
“Yes sir,” Titus replied. “Lookin’ for some folks that were traveling to Wyoming.”
The telegraph man shook his head. “Weather’s getting rough up that way,” he said. “Best settle in here for a bit, wait till spring, even then winter ain’t always done with us.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Titus said, tugging his hat down, “but I have a job to do, and there are folks out there who might need help.”
The telegraph man shook his head, “Suit yourself, but I’m glad it ain’t me.”
Titus shook the other man’s hand, walked to his horse and picked up the lead of his mule.
“Well fella’s,” he said, “I hope you’re ready for winter.”
Turning his collar up, he pointed his mount north and prayed for the best.
The wind of the nearby mountains tugged at his hat, and he pushed it down tighter over his hair. A frosty nip permeated the breeze promising more cold air and maybe even snow.
Titus had purchased warmer clothes and an extra coat in the little town then checked his stores and loaded up the mule.
As far as he knew the old animal had been with him since the beginning, if only he could remember, where that was.
Perhaps someday he’d meet someone that remember the lanky brown mule, and he’d have his first clue as to where he’d come from, or even where he was meant to go.
For now he’d follow the trail laid out before him and hope for the best. In this case that would be finding the family who had struck out for Wyoming in time to beat
winter.
A cold breeze skidded snow across the trail, and Titus turned his collar up against the chill.
He probably should have made camp earlier in the lowlands, but he felt the need to push on.
There was something about hunting for something that drove him. Perhaps it was because he still hadn’t been able to find his own past, or maybe it was just in his nature, but once on the trail it was hard to stop.
He wondered if he’d find the family that had left Nevada only to have gone missing before reaching their destination.
If he did find them what would that mean? Would it be good news? Perhaps they’d run into some difficulty with their wagon or had needed to stop due to illness.
He shivered as snow blew down his collar and prayed that he didn’t find that the worst had happened.
In recent years the Wild West had tamed down a good bit, but there were still dangers on any trail.
Outlaws were common, occasional outbreaks of unrest among the native peoples in some areas could lead to problems, and then there was always the worry of breakdowns, flash floods, or just illness.
Titus hoped that whatever he found would lead to a happier outcome than any of those he’d thought of.
Pulling his horse to a stop he peeled off a glove and reached into his breast pocket for the letter the Sheriff had given him.
He’d read it several times already, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.
The Bentley family had left Nevada in mid-summer packing all of their belongings into an old covered wagon and headed north.
Mr. Bentley had family in the town of Biders Clump who’d asked them to come to Wyoming and help with the store and farm.
“Mother, father, two sons and a daughter,” Titus intoned, slipping the page back into his pocket. “Surely someone will have seen them.”
He kicked his horse into motion pointing him northward and hoping for the best.