Uma's Undoing

by Dallis Adams

  “Keep practicing.” Uma smiled at him encouragingly. “It will get easier with more practice.”

  “So.” Harvey straightened away from the bars. “What about the Doc’s horse. Are you going to keep him?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it. But I already have a horse.” She thought of Calliope, and her pale yellow hair palomino with her black mane and tail. Calliope was just the right temperament to augment Uma’s own vitality. She hadn’t ridden all that much when she’d lived in New York. But her daily rides with Jack had honed her riding skills and had contributed to the close bond she had developed with her mare.

  Harvey glanced at Marshal Spivey who was writing at his desk, obviously ignoring Harvey and Uma both, and then he leaned against the bars of Uma’s cell. “I can take Doc Elroy’s horse off your hands if you don’t want to fool with him.”

  Uma frowned. “What would you want with a broken down old horse like Loki?”

  Harvey shrugged. “I’m kind of partial to old horses, since I’m old myself. Hey, I’ll even pay you one-hundred bucks if you’ll let me buy him from you.”

  “Well, let me think about it. I’m sorry to say this, but I think Loki is on his last leg. And Doc told me how much he cared for that horse. Obviously, he wanted me to take care of Loki. He knew how much I loved horses.”

  Darkness darted across his eyes, but then it passed, making Uma wonder if she’d imagined it. He yawned and stretched, then gave her a friendly smile. “If you change your mind and decide the old gelding is too much, send word. You know where I’ll be.”

  “You mean in front of Thistle Do Nicely? Or The Wandering Axe? Or here?” she asked in a teasing tone, referring to the times he slept off his drunkenness in the jail.

  “You know me well,” he said before he departed.

  She watched him go, wondering once again why he would want Doc’s old horse.

  Seventeen

  Jack found Creed at work at Kincaid’s Foundry and Copper Mill. He was doing something to a bar in the rollers that made up the copper rolling section of the mill. Two others were manipulating a glob of copper using specialized tools that were unfamiliar to Jack. Still others were toiling in another section of the mill, near the furnaces.

  Once again, Jack marveled at George Kincaid, Uma’s grandfather, a relative she never gotten a chance to meet before he died. Years ago, the senior Kincaid had visited Paul Revere’s Foundry and Copper Mill, and had returned to northern California to setup his process in a similar manner. Jack knew the copper milling rollers pressed semi-cooled copper into sheets, but was unfamiliar with the actual process. But the mill had customers from ship builders to copper roofers. They also made a variety of knobs for doors and cabinets, and chandeliers as well as other specialty items.

  The low hum made his teeth vibrate. Under no circumstance could he work in this environment.

  “Good afternoon, Creed,” he called out.

  “About time you came by,” Creed answered, setting aside his pole-like tool and walking toward him. “Orlando, take over my position.”

  “Right away, Creed,” the friendly man replied.

  “You expected me to come?” Jack asked, confused as he watched the two men exchange places.

  After Jack raised his brows in question, Creed shook his head. “I would have thought you’d come by a lot sooner. My train-robbing brothers? Spivey? They’ve led the Marshal on plenty of chases. They would be a perfect solution to getting rid of him.”

  “Why didn’t you suggest getting together with Rishley and Tye before now?”

  “Because I wanted you to come up with the solution,” Creed replied, his tone exasperated. “Come on. My brothers are nearby.” He turned away from Jack. “Luther!”

  Orchilo’s beau stood nearby, talking to two other mill workers. Luther helped out sometimes, fetching and assisting. “Yeah?” His mouth split into a wide grin when he saw Jack. “About time.”

  At Luther’s words the other mill workers nodded in agreement.

  Jack widened his eyes, incredulous. “Is everybody in on this?”

  With a grin, Creed shrugged. “Naw. Nobody knows anything for sure. But all of them, especially Luther, have suggested getting my brothers to rob another train to get rid of Marshal Spivey. We are all sick of him. He really is interrupting our Cryptic Cove mojo.”

  “Cryptic Cove mojo?” Jack shook his head, not knowing what Creed was talking about.

  “You know, the town’s confidence and esteem. How long have you been living in this town?”

  “Longer than you,” Jack retorted. “Towns don’t have confidence and esteem. Cryptic Cove isn’t a living being.” Even as he said that, he wondered if he was wrong. Because there was a certain … vibe that seemed to galvanize its citizens. Eccentric personalities were drawn to Cryptic Cove. The village exuded a sort of … live energy that even Jack could occasionally sense. Was it the Redwoods? The fog that clung to the giant trees? Or the sound of waves crashing on the cliffs? Sometimes distant? Sometimes close and sounding very near? Or was the energy a combination of all three? And was that energy what attracted Uma into moving to Cryptic Cove? Maybe her mother before that?

  “Confidence and esteem. You’re right. Those qualities usually are associated with people.” Creed looked over his head, his gaze faraway. “Cryptic Cove oozes those feelings. Not all towns do, though. Call me crazy, but Cryptic Cove certainly does. Can’t you feel the energy charging the air? Not all people are open to it. It’s like … dare I say … magic?” He rubbed his chin. “I know I sound like I should be locked up in an asylum, but the mojo that usually exudes from this place is starting to languish. The Marshal is wearing us all down, even the town. His dictatorship ways have been a strain, and our endeavors to drive him out aren’t working. We need Rishley and Tye.” Creed turned toward the large opening that led outside. “Let’s go meet them.”

  “What about work?”

  “Chuck is in San Francisco and won’t be back until tomorrow. He put me in charge until then.”

  “You? I still don’t understand your relationship,” Jack muttered.

  “I know. It’s … weird. But Chuck knows that the men will follow my orders. And the men know what to do to get in the quota for the day, and they are more than willing to cover for me because we are all wanting to get rid of that varmint. Just let me retrieve the two fresh horses I bought from Harlan.”

  Harlan Wolfe, the owner of The Wandering Axe, usually had extra horses that he either allowed others to rent or buy. Jack watched while Creed walked around the side of the foundry and returned with a pair of Appaloosas, one with dark gray spots and a silver mane; the other with brown markings. He had four saddle bags draped over the horses’ withers. “For your brothers?”

  “The less you know, the better,” Creed said in a cryptic tone. Creed led Jack deep into the Redwoods. They crossed a stream and headed north. At the time Jack was about to ask how much farther, is when a caravan came into view. The vardo was painted with the same colors as their surroundings, making it blend into the nature around them. On one end there was a painting of a Redwood trunk surrounded with underbrush and the purplish gray fog that seemed to cling to their surroundings.

  Two men stepped out from behind the caravan. Both carried rifles. The pair carried the same genetic streak that Creed had — wide cheekbones and hollowed cheeks. The main differences was that the older brother had a dent in his chin, and the middle brother sported a dimple in his left cheek. But their most obvious resemblance to Creed was in their eyes. All three had eyes that were almond shaped and deep set.

  Two quarter horses had been tied up to a tree. Their coats were lathered and they breathed heavily, as if they’d been running. He glanced toward the mouth of the caravan. Two large canvas bags set on the floor, near the edge.

  “Jack, this is my brother Rishley,” Creed said, motioning toward the taller brother. “This is Tye.” He gestured to the brother who had blond streaks and the dimpled in his cheek. �
��Brothers? This is Sheriff Jack MacKissick, the friend I was telling you about.”

  “So you want our help in getting rid of a pest, I hear.” Rishley said after he and his brother shook Jack’s hand in greeting.

  Jack squirmed, suddenly uncomfortable with the whole situation. They were outlaws. He should be arresting them. But he knew their grievances toward Evenlight Express. Creed had told him how both Rishley and Tye had developed a new train engine that ran more proficiently and used less coal. And how the railroad had stolen their blueprints and ideas. Jack had a feeling there was more to the whole injustice, and he vowed to investigate into the situation … but after he exonerated Uma and found Doc Elroy’s real killer.

  Rishley and Tye had a Robin Hood like reputation. They stole bank money reserved for Evenlight Express executives and then gave the funds to the railroad’s underpaid laborers. And when they held up a train, the Bloom brothers would shoot to wound or disarm, not to kill. Although Jack wondered how much longer their wound-only reputation would last. Because flying bullets were dangerous. Sooner or later he worried that the Blooms would miss and actually shoot someone, in a mortal way.

  Despite their seemingly good intentions while on their crusade to bankrupt the railroad, Jack still knew they were fugitives from the law, and as a lawman, he should lock them up.

  But long ago he recognized that everything was not black and white. Too, he knew himself well enough to recognize he would do anything to save Uma. He inwardly sighed, determined to do what it took to get Spivey out of town, which would free Uma. Having Spivey in town, threatening Uma, was too much of a distraction. More than ever, Jack needed to concentrate on unraveling the mystery of the Doc’s murderer, rather than thinking up ways to rid Cryptic Cove of the irritating Spivey. “If by pest you’re referring to Marshal Spivey, then yes, I would like help in getting him out of Cryptic Cove. What’s the plan?”

  “Hit a payroll shipment on the Evenlight Express,” Rishley said as he withdrew a small length of brown paper and then his tobacco pouch.

  Jack paced toward the end of the caravan as he listened and stopped at the back where the entry stood, looking at the canvas bags that looked a lot like money bags. “Hmm. I knew a family who laid track and repaired track. It’s not an easy job. So I don’t know if I can abide stealing from the hardworking train employees.”

  With the worn tip of his boot, Tye kicked at a tuft of grass. “We don’t abide by that either. As it is, railroad workers are underpaid anyway. That’s why we’ll give it back.”

  “Shut it, Tye.” Rishley scowled at his brother. Then he sighed, and finished tapping a line of tobacco leaves on the paper and then began rolling it. “No. Tye’s right to tell you. We don’t like robbing payroll marked for laborers. But we will make an exception and steal this payroll in order to get Marshal Spivey to chase us.

  “After the robbery and the chase, once we get away from Spivey, we’ll drop the money off to a foreman who’s a friend of ours. He’ll distribute the funds quietly to the right employees, and swear the workers to secrecy.”

  “Why the secrecy in returning the money?” Jack asked, watching Rishley twist the ends of his cigarillo. “I thought you wanted the Robin Hood persona.”

  “We do, but we’ll do anything to help the downtrodden. Evenlight Express will have to come up with more money to cover the cost of the supposed loss from the robbery. The workers will get double pay since Evenlight won’t know we gave the workers the money we stole.”

  Tye must have seen Jack slowly processing the information because he added, “You see, the railroad won’t know that we returned the wages. They’ll have to come up with more funds to reimburse …” he held up two fingers on either hand to make quotes in the air as he said reimburse ‘“… the workers,’ when in actuality the workers will get paid double, which is what their wages should be anyway.”

  “Sneaky,” Jack replied, shaking his head over the Bloom brothers’ antics. “I’m glad I’m not your enemy.”

  Tye grinned. “Thank you. That’s the best compliment I’ve ever heard.”

  Jack couldn’t help but like the pair. But he sensed there was a catch, something he didn’t know. “What is this going to cost me? I assume you’ll want me to return the favor. If not now, then someday.”

  All three brothers glanced at each other. Then Rishley stepped forward. “Not you. Your wife.”

  “Uma?” The fine hairs on the back of his neck lifted and he glared at the outlaws. “What about her? And it better not be untoward.”

  Rishley raised his brows. “Simmer down. It’s nothing untoward. We’ve heard about her and her causes. We’ve researched her and learned of her successes. We want her to fight for our cause.”

  “What?” Jack asked, confused, glancing between the three of them. “What can Uma do for you, other than get herself thrown in jail?”

  Tye’s eyes widened. His lower jaw dropped. “Don’t you know? She’s a Revolutionary.”

  A Revolutionary? The way Tye said it — his tone full of awe — made Jack realize the man was paying Uma a compliment.

  “Yes, a firebrand,” Rishley added, his face animated.

  “She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Tye added.

  “Is this what happens when brothers go on the lamb? You finish each other’s thoughts? You both act as if you’ve joined brains, never mind being joined at the hip.”

  Rishley cocked his head as he studied Jack, and then shook it. “She is a most unusual woman. A firebrand. You have no idea what a jewel you have in her.”

  “Yes, of course I know she’s unique,” he muttered, irritated that these men were acting like they knew her better than he did, even though they had never met Uma. “And I do know she’s a jewel, like an uncut diamond in the rough. It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with her and made her my wife.” The urge to lay claim to Uma overwhelmed Jack.

  Rishley leaned against the footboard of the vardo, and tapped his lower lip with a finger as he considered Jack. “But I don’t think you really do know all that she has achieved in her short life. She shamed Flannery Fabrics into changing their views toward child labor. She badgered them into agreeing to hire children only if said children attended school. Too, she convinced Flannery into scheduling the children to work no more than three hours on a school day. Furthermore, Flannery agreed to only hire children who were fourteen or older, and to pay them at least half as much as an adult working the same job — instead of the ten to twenty percent wage that most factory owners pay.”

  Tye nodded. “Too, she convinced the nearby button factory to do the same.”

  Rishley paced away from the caravan. “Even when she was ten years old, she got everyone in an uproar over Doc Elroy’s practice. Because of Uma, the mayor forced Doc to leave New York City.”

  “I knew that about Doc Elroy.” In fact, Jack found out about Doc, and Uma’s part in forcing him to leave New York City, only a short few days ago. That she’d convinced major New York factories to alter their practices toward children labor was amazing. A burst of love swept over him once again. And he shouldn’t be surprised. Hadn’t she recently announced in last month’s town meeting that children under ten years old shouldn’t work in the field? That children between ten and fourteen should work no more than three hours a day during school term? And she had emphasized all children should attend school until they were at least fourteen years old. Amazingly, the parents agreed. He had to admit she was very persuasive when she had a calling to change something.

  He rubbed the ends of his hair between his fingers, considering. Finally he looked up at Rishley, and then Tye. “I can’t answer for Uma. If you can convince her that your cause is legitimate and if you can manage to get her on board, then alright. But it’s up to her, and she has the right to say no.” Not that he wouldn’t do some digging of his own into the alleged theft of the blueprints.

  However, if he had any hint that Evenlight proved dangerous, he would put his foot down and insis
t that Uma stay out of the fight. He gave Rishley and Tye piercing looks. “But under no circumstances will I allow her to get involved with your illegal activities. And if she does agree and her involvement puts her in danger, you’ll have me to answer to.”

  “Of course,” Rishley agreed and blew a smoke ring in the air from his cigarillo. That goes without saying.”

  Tye removed his hat and hit it against his thigh, as if it was dusty. “We would never allow Uma to participate in our robberies or our handling of the ill-gotten gains.”

  “Where will you hit the train?”

  “It’s best you don’t know. But by this evening, you’ll be rid of Marshal Spivey.”

  Jack mulled it over, looking for loopholes, situations that he hadn’t considered. He couldn’t think of any.

  “So?” Tye said, obviously chafing over the Jack’s silence. “Do we have a deal?”

  “As long as you refrain from approaching Uma until her name is cleared and I have the true murderer in custody.”

  “You’ve got it, Sheriff,” Rishley said, shaking Jack’s hand. Tye did the same. The Bloom boys wasted no time. As Jack had been talking to Rishley and Tye, Creed had been switching the saddles to the fresh horses he’d brought with him. Saddle bags bulged with provisions. Rishley reached through the door of the of the vardo and retrieved four bandoleers, full of ammunition. He tossed two to Tye and slung the two he kept over each shoulder sash-style, so that they each criss-crossed at his chest.

  “Don’t worry, Jack,” Creed said softly. “They are careful.”

  “If anyone dies, I won’t be able to forgive myself,” Jack said, his throat burning at the thought.

  “Nobody will die. I promise.” Rishley’s tone was firm. Confident. He swung up into the saddle and nudged his horse into motion with Tye on the other Appaloosa. Soon the pair weaved through the trees and were gone, the purple mist swallowing them up.