by A. T. Butler
Blood on the Mountain
A Western Adventure
A.T. Butler
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Many Thanks
Also by A.T. Butler
About the Author
Chapter One
“Your deal?” Jacob Payne asked as he tossed his cards into the middle of the poker table. This had never been his game and he was tempted to just get up and leave, but couldn’t quite resist trying one more time. He, Edwin and two strangers had been playing for a couple hours already and Jacob was still running just about even. One more hand could let him walk away with some real cash.
“Yep,” Edwin responded, pulling all the cards toward him.
“This is my last hand,” Jacob announced.
There was a short lull while Edwin gathered the deck to shuffle, but no sooner had Jacob breathed a sigh of relief than one of the strangers, the one with the mustache, brought up his complaint again.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ … Them Mormons should stay with their own kind.”
“They’re not hurting you,” Jacob said for what felt like the fortieth time. “The man and his family have a homestead miles away from here, aren’t coming to bother you or preach to you. What under the canopy is the actual problem?”
“It’s just not right,” the man said. He leaned his chair back on just the rear legs so he could reach the spittoon. His gob of yellowy brown saliva fell about an inch short and dribbled down the outside of the metal container. “He’s got five wives, I heard. And each one of ‘em has a passel of kids. It ain’t right.”
“Now, how does that work, exactly?” Edwin asked with a grin. “Do the wives all sleep in the same bed? Do they have different rooms? Or do they each get their own house and the fella has to move between each one?”
The mustached stranger—Jacob thought his name was Abe—grimaced. “I don’t know,” he insisted.
“Did you even meet the man?” Jacob asked.
Abe was speechless for only a moment before sputtering. “I didn’t need to meet him to know. I heard. And it’s not right.”
Jacob sighed. It was impossible to argue with someone who didn’t have any actual point. “You about ready for that next hand?” he asked Edwin.
The dealer grinned and nodded. The other stranger had remained silent this whole time, but at least his aim with tobacco was better. Jacob eyed him surreptitiously as they played. Abe had called the silent one Lucky, but there was no telling if that was the name he always went by or just one of seven different aliases. As a bounty hunter, Jacob had to keep his suspicions always at the forefront, not taking anything at face value and sinister possibilities everywhere.
Either way, the nickname seemed apt. Lucky had quietly added to his cash over the evening. Jacob didn’t always mind losing, but he didn’t like seeing one man win that big and that consistently. It took all the fun out of the game.
But he kept his mouth shut.
As the cards landed in front of him, Jacob gently lifted up the corner to see what he had been dealt. Four of spades, Jack of diamonds, three of clubs, nine of diamonds, seven of hearts.
He kept a close eye on the others as they placed their bets. Lucky seemed confident, but Jacob hadn’t been playing with them long enough to be able to read any signs of what kinds of cards they may have in front of them.
Going around again, Jacob drew three new cards, keeping his diamonds but not getting anything new worth a damn. Jacob looked at his dwindling cash, and reached a decision. Besides, he didn’t want to stick around and listen to more of Abe’s griping.
“That’s it for me,” he said, dropping his cards on the table. “This has been a rich evening, boys.”
Abe grinned. “C’mon, stay a bit.”
“And give you all more of my money? I don’t think so.” Jacob clapped Edwin on the shoulder as he passed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You off to the cafe?” Edwin asked with a wink.
Jacob paused. He hadn’t actually put the idea to himself, but as soon as Edwin mentioned it, he realized that was where he was heading. Having a drink by himself, or maybe in the company of a certain waitress, sounded like the perfect way to end his evening.
“That’s what I thought,” Edwin said with a laugh when Jacob didn’t answer.
“Good night,” the bounty hunter said pointedly on his way out the door.
The San Xavier Cafe was only a short block away from the Golden Saddle Saloon where he had been playing. Tucson was growing, and there was even a rumor that they’d get their own newspaper later that fall. Jacob walked purposefully through the dim streets. The sun had just set. The sounds of drinking and the beginnings of evening entertainment surrounded him.
He was getting a little tired of this heat. All the Arizona locals had warned him. He’d laughed it off. But they were right, and he was wrong. His first summer in Arizona had been a shock. When he was on the trail of an outlaw, focused and determined, he could easily ignore the discomfort. On days like this, however, when he was still trying to find a suitable horse to purchase or waiting for a new tip to come in, the heat was all he could think about. It overwhelmed him and influenced every decision.
With the sun below the horizon, the evening was cooler. Jacob took off his hat as he stepped through the door of the San Xavier Cafe and fanned his face a little. He spotted an empty seat at the bar, and was sure to catch the waitress’s eye as he sat down.
Bonnie Loft made her way across the room to him with a shy smile. Her dark, almost black, straight hair was pulled back off her face in a low bun, but the tiniest wisps had fallen out to frame her face. Every time she unconsciously reached up to push a strand back behind her ear, he smiled at the gesture.
“I haven’t seen you all day, Jacob,” she said teasing. “Did you not eat today?”
She ran her small hand across the broad expanse of his back as she crossed behind where he sat. Her touch was casual and fleeting, but Jacob knew she wasn’t friendly like this with all her customers.
The old Irish bartender appeared in front of Jacob with a neat whiskey. “Usual, eh, Payne?”
“Thanks, Mickey.”
“It breaks my poor heart to see you drinking such dodgy rubbish.”
“I know.” He grinned. “One day we’ll go back to Dublin and you can show me the real stuff.”
Mickey Sheehan was anywhere from fifty to eighty years old, and spoke with a brogue as thick as molasses. Jacob had heard that the man had been on this continent for going on thirty years, and yet still talked about his home town like he was going back any day, including how terrible the whiskey was here all the way on the western side of the continent.
Jacob raised his glass in thanks and took a sip. The warmth that spread through his torso made him feel just a little bit better about his losses at the saloon. He was getting better at poker, though. Maybe tomorrow night he’d try again, if he was still in town.
Bonnie leaned against the bar next to him, watching and waiting for him to be ready to talk.
“Where’ve you been, Jacob? You’ve got another bounty to go hunt down?”
“Not yet.” He took another small sip and shook his head. “If I had a horse, I could go to Prescott or further west a bit where there are rumors of cattle rustlers. But in the meantime I just have to wait here for some chance to buy a suitable animal.
I’m not used to this kind of limited option.”
“There’s nothing in town that suits you?”
“I guess I’m just picky. Paint happened across my path on my way out here from Texas and I couldn’t have asked for a better horse. Nothing here in Tucson right now even comes close. I guess I’m just waiting for that lucky break for another perfect horse to wander into my life.”
“It is a shame that man shot him.”
“Jed Corker?” Jacob looked down into his drink. He was still angry about that outlaw shooting his horse out from under him. He needed to take a beat to calm his temper. “He deserves everything the law can throw at him.”
After a moment, Bonnie rested her fingers lightly on his forearm, drawing his attention to her. “Why don’t you take my mare, Jacob? She may not be the perfect companion for you forever, but she’s a good horse to borrow for a bit. Lord knows I won’t need her desperately for a week or so and she just stays cooped up so much of the time. You can get out of town.”
He mulled over the offer. That might be exactly what he needed. For the last month he had been going non-stop. Now that Deputy Lowry didn’t have any immediate leads on any of the wanted men in the area, it might be just the time for him to get out of the heat for a bit and scout out options elsewhere.
“That’s an idea,” he said. “But where will I go? Down to Mexico? I’m trying to get away from the heat for a bit.”
“What about the White Mountains over to the east? I haven’t been there myself but I hear good things. There’s rumors of gold being discovered out there. Maybe you can use that good luck of yours and stumble across a couple nuggets.”
Jacob chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I’d settle for just a horse. I’m not sure my luck is any better than anyone else’s. But being in the mountains sounds nice.”
“You didn’t have any real mountains back in Virginia, did you?”
“Not near where I lived, but I passed through the Blue Ridge Mountains on my way out here to Arizona. I do miss the forests of back east.” He sighed, remembering the rolling hills and dense forests around his family’s Virginia farm. He could spend hours out there, just listening to the sounds around him, smelling the pine and the rotting leaves under foot. But, he reminded himself, he had left that farm for a reason. Arizona was his home for the foreseeable future and now was the perfect chance to see some of what it had to offer other than parched and desolate desert.
“I almost stayed in the White Mountains before coming here,” Bonnie said. “It’s a beautiful place.”
Jacob finished the rest of his whiskey in one long gulp. Now that he had a plan, he was ready to get going and that started with one last night’s sleep in a proper bed.
“You’ve sold me, Bonnie.” He set his glass down and waived Mickey away when the older man came to offer him a second. “If you really can spare her for a couple weeks, I’d be glad to take you up on that offer.”
“Well, now I don’t know if I want to let her go if that means I won’t be seeing you for a couple weeks.” She leaned close. “I’m teasing, of course. I’ll have her ready and saddled for you here tomorrow morning, if that works for you?”
“I couldn’t ask for more.” He stood up from his stool and suppressed a desire to hug her, holding her petite body close to him. His hands raised a couple inches before he dropped them down again. “That means I have a lot to do before tomorrow, so I’ll be saying goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jacob.” Bonnie wore a wide smile, but her eyes didn’t reflect the same joy as she said good-bye to him.
By the next morning, Jacob had everything sorted and packed early. He carried it all over to the San Xavier Cafe to meet Bonnie and her mare.
“Is this your girl?” he asked approaching the gray mottled mare that stood in front of the building.
“Yes, sir. This is Franny.” Bonnie fed her horse half of an apple and whispered to her. “She’ll be good to you.”
“Thanks, Bonnie. I’ll bring her back safe and sound in a couple weeks or so.”
“You’d better, Jacob Payne. I want you back safe and sound, too.”
He kissed her cheek and swung into the saddle. A few days in the mountains, around real green trees, would refresh him like nothing else could.
Chapter Two
Jacob and Franny began their long trek northeast across the desert. Riding toward the sunrise, Jacob felt a fresh new start, a blank slate and imagined the wide expanse of possibility before him.
Somehow he had missed passing through the White Mountains in eastern Arizona on his way out west earlier that year. The idea that there was still unexplored wilderness everywhere around him was exhilarating. He might be the first man to spot a particular river, or witness a wild predator take down its prey. He could be alone in the wilderness, not seeing another human for hours, if not days. He could leave his mark, without competition, without challengers. After all, isn’t this why men left the cities and civilization on the eastern seaboard? Why, in fact, they crossed the Atlantic Ocean to conquer the new continent centuries ago? The untamed wild of the western territories was just sitting there, waiting to be inhabited.
And now Jacob would have a chance to claim another piece of it, if only temporarily.
He wasn’t sure where exactly he was headed, but would know when he got there. Between Tucson and the mountains were a number of small towns, both mining and railroad, and Jacob aimed to stop in as many of them as were in his general path. Talking to the men of Globe or introducing himself to the small town sheriff usually yielded information or bounties beyond what most bounty hunters actively sought. Jacob had learned there were details everywhere if you just paid attention.
Midway through his first day, Jacob rode into a small town of perhaps eight hundred people. The single long main street stretched before him, dry as a bone with dust being kicked up. Men tipped their hats in greeting as he rode past; women smiled at him, welcoming the stranger to town. Jacob thought they must not have had much trouble here if not a single citizen was wary of him.
After making a few inquiries, Jacob discovered the town was called Falcon and he was politely directed to the town livery where he boarded Franny for a few hours. She deserved a nice long rest after their long ride, and he could spend the time eating, replenishing his stores and maybe even relaxing. Jacob was still not used to the idea that he didn’t have any outlaws to pursue at this moment. It was far more common for him to be on alert all the time and he had not yet settled in to this break.
Another kind soul directed him to the saloon where he could get a drink and a hot meal. As he walked through the door, no fewer than three of the men inside looked up and nodded their hellos at Jacob. He relaxed the smallest amount as he found a seat and got his food.
As Jacob drained his first beer, an older couple approached his table and introduced themselves. The older man wore a stark white beard, bowler hat and trim brown suit that reminded Jacob of his father on a Sunday morning. The woman next to him, also with stark white hair under a small hat, hung back half a step, as though used to letting her husband lead the way.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the man began, offering his hand for Jacob to shake. “We are so sorry to interrupt your mealtime, but we couldn’t help but noticing you’re a stranger to Falcon.”
“I am,” Jacob answered cautiously.
“Mind if we sit?”
He gestured to the two empty chairs at the table and Jacob nodded.
“My name is John McFadden. I’m the mayor here in Falcon and this is my wife Constance. What brings you to our humble little town?”
Jacob took a moment to gesture to the bartender for another beer before answering. He tried to hide his smile at the thought that the mayor himself was the personal welcoming committee of this small town.
“I’m just passing through,” he said.
“What is it you do, son? Is there anything we can help you with here? Anyone I can introduce you to?”
“That’s
very kind of you, Mr. McFadden. But I really am just passing through on my way to the mountains. I’m a bounty hunter by trade—”
He was interrupted by a frightened gasp from Mrs. McFadden.
“Are you alright, ma’am?”
She seemed unable to speak for a moment; her husband spoke up. “What was your name, sir?”
“Jacob Payne.”
“Mr. Payne,” he said sternly. “We don’t want any trouble here. Falcon is a safe, quiet community and if you’re going to be coming into town raising a ruckus, we don’t need your kind.”
“No, sir.” Jacob looked both of his hosts in the eyes. “That’s not why I’m here. Hunting down an outlaw is serious business. I do my duty to capture the renegade and hand him over to the law. On my honor, sir, I have never once had to kill in my line of work. I really am just passing through your town.”
She pressed her hand to her bosom, her eyes wide. “Oh, no, Mr. Payne. There couldn’t possibly be a fugitive here, could there? We’ve never had such a thing.”
He paused before continuing. It wasn’t possible that Falcon would never see trouble, but could he tell her that? Lying was always his last resort, but he knew that sometimes it couldn’t be helped to protect someone. He was always having to weigh his options and decide what the lesser of the two evils was. Sometimes a little misdirection really was the best option, or sometimes he could sense that they wouldn’t hear the truth anyway. Pieces of the truth were often sufficient, and the listener would never need to know what he had held back from them. “No, ma’am. I’m sure you’re perfectly safe here. If you’ve not had a bank robbery or kidnapping in Falcon, there’s no reason to worry about it now.”
“Oh, God bless you,” she said, exhaling.