Blood on the Mountain

by A. T. Butler

  He smiled politely and said his good-byes. Better to get on the road sooner than he had planned than to be roped into another partial truth. He and Franny had plenty more terrain to cover.

  The next afternoon, Jacob rode into a town so small he wondered if it even had a name. There appeared to be only two public buildings, and half a dozen homes scattered within a three mile area. He slowed Franny to a casual walk and made his way down the sole street. As he passed one of the two buildings a rotund man with shaggy gray hair came out into the doorway to greet him.

  “You lost, son?” he asked, jokingly. “Not many strangers find their way to Cork, Arizona.”

  Jacob waved in greeting and nudged Franny toward the storefront. “Is that where I am? Cork? I’ve come from Tucson on my way to the White Mountains and wasn’t sure what I’d find in between.”

  “Yes, sir. You found us. Tie up that gorgeous creature you’re riding and let me get you a drink.”

  “Mighty nice of you,” Jacob replied as he dismounted. There was only a single hitching post on this street, but seeing as Jacob was the only one here, that didn’t seem to be a problem.

  “Come in, come in,” the man said. “My name is Marty Colfax.”

  As they stepped over the threshold, Jacob recognized both the shelves and storage of a general store, the tables and chairs of a diner and the counter and back office of a post office. Jacob loved these kinds of small towns, where a single man fulfilled three or four different roles for the residents. A kind-looking woman with a pile of graying brown hair atop her head waited behind the cash registers. A young teenage boy came out of the back room wearing an apron and carrying a towel, staring at Jacob as he entered.

  “It’s a man,” the kid said in awe.

  Jacob laughed. “Well, Mr. Colfax. You weren’t kidding about not many strangers here, were you?”

  “No, sir.” He pushed ahead of Jacob farther into the room and offered him one of the tables. “I want to say it’s been almost a year since anyone new has come through.”

  “Thirteen months,” the kid said under his breath.

  “Ah, yes. Thank you, professor.” He remained standing next to Jacob’s table as he gestured to the other two. “This is my family. My wife Hester, and our youngest Amos. We have one other older boy, Joel, back at home repairing a fence today. And, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Jacob Payne,” he replied, removing his hat and nodding politely to the woman and child.

  “Mind if I sit, Mr. Payne?”

  “Not at all. And please call me Jacob.”

  “Okay then Jacob.” Colfax sat across from him and leaned over the table on his elbows staring hard at him. “Now, we are good Christians and we want to offer hospitality to any man that walks through that door. But at the same time, the world is a wicked place and I need to be sure I’m protecting my own.”

  Jacob nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  “So I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what you’re doing in this backwoods corner of the Territory.”

  “Of course, sir.” Jacob clasped his hands on the table, demonstrably away from his weapons. It was such a stark difference from his welcome in Falcon that he couldn’t help but respect this man’s boldness. “I’m a bounty hunter.”

  “Oh heavens,” Mrs. Colfax interrupted, clutching her neck. “There’s an outlaw in Cork?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry to scare you,” Jacob said, trying to be soothing.

  “Then what is it you’re doing here, Mr. Payne?” Colfax asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I find myself out here because there are no bank robbers or murderers for me to chase. I came from Tucson, as I mentioned, and the U.S. Marshals there are doing such a great job that the tips for wanted men are few and far between. So a friend suggested I get out of town and look to see if I can be helpful elsewhere. I’m told the White Mountains boast of some of the most beautiful forests in this part of the world, so I’m on my way there to do some poking around, check in with the lawmen, and maybe even get in some fishing.”

  “Guess there’s not much opportunity for fishing in Tucson,” he said, finally leaning back in his chair.

  “No, sir, there’s not.”

  “So you’ll be on your way tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Jacob said cautiously. “Unless you’d like me to go now.”

  “No, that’s not necessary. As I said, we’re Christians and we’ll feed you and give you a roof. I’d like you to turn your revolvers over to me while you’re here, if you don’t mind. But we have plenty of room in our barn for you and your horse to stay the night.”

  Jacob paused briefly before responding. “That seems fair, sir.” He placed his revolvers on the table, careful to make sure the barrels were not pointed at his host. The bounty hunter slid the weapons over, trusting his life and his defenses to a man he had just met.

  In truth, assuming there really was no danger in Cork, this would be a comfortable, relaxing evening for him, and if that meant turning over his weapons for a few hours he would be happy to. In the few months he had been chasing bad men, Jacob had learned that sometimes trusting the good ones was the only way forward.

  Chapter Three

  Once they made their way to the Colfax homestead, his host showed Jacob to a new, clean and warm barn. With Franny settled in for the night, brushed and watered, Jacob was looking forward to a night to relax. He smiled to himself at the ease of finding a kind stranger who was willing to help him feel at home.

  The two men stood in the doorway of the barn, discussing Jacob’s route the next day, further towards the mountains and where he could go to best find the fishing he aimed to do. The cool evening breeze wafted across his sweaty brow.

  The farmhouse door opened, spilling light across the ground. Mrs. Colfax crossed the dirt yard from the house, carrying a quilt in her arms. “You will probably need this. The nights get cool around here,” she called as she drew closer.

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”

  “Will you be staying for breakfast?”

  Jacob took the armful of fabric from her when she reached the barn. Before he could answer, they were interrupted by the sound of galloping hooves tearing toward the barn from the darkness.

  “Mr. Parr!” Colfax said as the rider drew closer. “What on earth are you doing here at this time of night?”

  The man and horse slowed as they approached the barn, and Jacob noticed that saddlebags and supplies seemed to be minimal. Either this man was counting on the kindness of strangers, or was expecting to make his journey so quickly he wouldn’t have to prepare.

  “I’ve been sent to get word to the U.S. Marshal’s office,” the man said panting a little as he climbed down off his horse.

  Jacob jumped into action, helping the man bring the exhausted horse inside, remove the saddle, make sure it had water and take care of the animal as best he could. He heard Marty gently suggest to Mrs. Colfax that she return to the house. While Jacob worked, he and Marty asked the man more questions.

  “What happened to your telegraph office?” asked Marty. “I would have thought that’d be easier than tearing across the country.”

  Parr shook his head. “The blasted Pickens cut the wire. We didn’t even realize until a couple hours went by with no response. He gave himself a head start.”

  “Who did?” Jacob asked.

  “I think his name is Pickens. Or maybe Picketts? I’m not certain. He weren’t in Elk Springs too long.”

  “That name sound familiar to you?” Colfax asked Jacob.

  He searched his memory but shook his head. If this man was wanted for a crime, it wasn’t anywhere in the Arizona Territory that he knew of. Or under either one of those names.

  “What did he do, Parr?” Colfax asked quietly, checking behind him to be sure his wife had gone.

  “One of the Kimball ladies has been kidnapped.”

  “I’ll go,” Jacob said, resolutely. “I’ll find her.”

 
“And who the hell are you?” Parr said, accusingly. He seemed to have finally recognized that he had no idea who he had divulged all this information to.

  “This man is a bounty hunter,” Colfax clarified for his friend. “Let him help.”

  Parr nodded reluctantly. “Alright. If you say so. But trusting strangers is what got us into this mess.”

  Colfax led them into the house where Mrs. Colfax already returned and had a pot of coffee started. The kitchen table was clear, save for the older boy, Joel, tucked into the corner reading his Bible. He seemed all arms and legs to Jacob, right at that age where his body was still growing but before the mass of muscle had filled in.

  “You’re fine, son,” Marty said when the boy moved to vacate his chair. “You’re old enough to hear this.”

  “Mr. Parr,” Jacob began as the men sat. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”

  Mrs. Colfax placed mugs of coffee in front of each of them and Parr pulled out a flask to add a little something extra to his. He took a sip, shook his head as though clearing the cobwebs from his brain, took a deep breath, and began.

  “This man, Pickens, showed up in Elk Springs four or five days ago. Not many. He claims he’s from St. Louis and was looking for the rumored Herron gold mine. Now, of course, there’s no telling if any of that is true. As far as I can tell, he asked around, got friendly with a number of the families and had everyone just eating out of his hand, easy as you please.”

  “How many people are in Elk Springs?” Jacob asked.

  Mr. Parr thought a moment. “I’d say near five hundred.”

  “And the men have already formed a posse?”

  He grimaced. “When I left a couple of them were trying. But there aren’t many men willing to stick their necks out for the Kimballs.”

  “Why?” Jacob asked, bewildered.

  “Excuse me,” Joel said, quietly but firmly interrupting. “Did you say the Kimballs?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Parr said to the boy. He turned his attention back to Jacob. “The Kimball family is Mormon. That alone makes them a bit queer, but they also live about three miles or so outside of town and don’t associate with us regular.” He shrugged.

  “So, because they worship a bit differently, there are people in Elk Springs willing to let them be kidnapped?” Jacob tried to keep the accusation out of his voice.

  “Well, now, if it were just a matter of one of them breaking a leg or needing help with the cattle, the people of Elk Springs would jump to help out their neighbor. But rescuing from a devil?”

  Mrs. Colfax approached the table with two mugs of steaming hot coffee in each hand, set them gently on the surface and handed one to each man in turn. Jacob thanked her as he received his, taking a deep whiff of the rich aroma.

  “You can’t blame them for wanting to stay safe,” Colfax said, as he sipped from his mug.

  “Right.” Jacob recognized it was easier to acquiesce even if he didn’t agree. “Are there any leads? Any idea where he has gone with the victim?”

  “Mr. Kimball says he followed the horse tracks as far as the river, and then lost them. But they were headed north. The same direction as the rumored gold mine.”

  “When you say ‘rumored’—”

  “It doesn’t exist,” Parr said emphatically. “Half of Elk Springs settled there because they were looking for that mine and if none of us could find it in the last couple years, it doesn’t exist.”

  “But does Pickens know that?”

  “Could be. Could be he wants to look himself. Could be he was just using that as an excuse to talk to the women.”

  “What happened that made him snap and take the girl?”

  Parr shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t have a chance to do no investigating before I came tearing down the mountain. All I know is a young girl like Flora …” He trailed off, glancing warily at Joel.

  Jacob knew what he was thinking without it having to be said out loud. What they all were thinking. The risk of a girl like that, of any female, in the company of and under the control of a man like that. Well, in all likelihood if she lived through the event she’d never be the same.

  “You aiming to go after her, Payne?” Colfax asked. “In the morning, Parr, you can go on to Desierto where I’m sure they have a telegraph office, but that may be too late for Flora.”

  “I want to go,” Joel said from his corner. Jacob had almost forgotten he was sitting there. “I’m going too.”

  “Honey, I don’t think—” his mother began.

  “I have to go, Mother. I have to. It’s Flora.” The pleading and heartbreak in his voice was unmistakeable. “Mr. Payne will find Elk Springs quicker with me to guide him. We can’t lose any time.”

  “Joel, I don’t want you getting yourself tangled up with any outlaw.”

  “I’m a grown man, Father. And you’ve said yourself we’re Christians who try to do good by our neighbors. If the men in Elk Springs, who all have wives and children to support, won’t go, then someone like me should. Flora needs help.”

  The boy’s parents exchanged a glance, and had what amounted to a fully silent conversation just communicating with a twist of an eyebrow of shrug of a shoulder.

  “You’re right, son,” Marty finally said. “If it don’t bother Mr. Payne none, your mother and I will consent to you going.”

  Jacob was torn. He liked to work alone, and not have to be responsible for anyone else while he was on the trail. But this boy—this young man—was clearly desperate to accompany him.

  “I can’t vouch for your safety, Joel. It will be rough and dangerous. Not only is there a chance we might fail, but there’s always a chance we might die. Are your parents prepared for that? Are you?”

  Joel closed his Bible and rested it on the table. “I am, sir.”

  “Well, then. Let’s make whatever preparations we can. We’ll leave at dawn.”

  The next day, Jacob found himself riding Franny and following Joel through the sparse pine trees on the slight incline up the mountains as the sun came peeking over the horizon. They had left the Colfax homestead still in the predawn dark and made steady progress through the foothills. In spite of the danger of the mission ahead, Jacob was elated to be back among the evergreens.

  “It’s not much farther,” Joel called over his shoulder. “We should get there well before supper, I think.”

  “How often do you travel to Elk Springs?” Jacob asked.

  “Pretty often.”

  “You know the Kimballs?”

  Joel didn’t respond initially, but finally slowed his horse to walk alongside Jacob’s. “My family used to live in Elk Springs. Amos and me were both born there. I don’t know if Father mentioned that last night. We moved down to Cork when I was about fourteen, but I’ve known Flora Kimball since they got to Elk Springs. Most of our lives, I’d say.”

  Jacob waited for the boy to say more. He had learned there were some people who just needed space and to be allowed to take their time, rather than pressing them with specific questions.

  But he never did. Instead, Joel gave Jacob a pinched smile, flicked his reins and rode on ahead. Whatever place the girl held in his heart, Joel was keeping her close.

  The incline was getting steeper now, and the trail more narrow. At times Jacob lost sight of it completely, but Joel seemed to know where they were going. They rode one behind the other, instead of side by side, and stayed quiet each listening to the forest around them.

  Above him, Jacob heard a creaking sound. He tried to turn to see what it was, but the mare was skittish at the sound.

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” he said. But in that moment when Jacob turned is attention to the horse, he missed the five-foot-long branch come crashing to the ground just next to them.

  Franny bolted.

  Chapter Four

  The second the enormous branch crashed to the ground, Bonnie’s mare, Franny, tore through the unfamiliar woods at a gallop. Jacob clenched his teeth, but willed himself to
relax into the mare’s stride. It had been a long time since a horse of his had spooked. He didn’t want to hurt her or scare her more, but he needed to calm the horse and get her back under control.

  Why hadn’t Bonnie warned him that her horse was high-strung? He might not have taken her on this journey if he had known. This was the first time he could remember being angry with the woman, but this was the worst thing that could happen. Jacob couldn’t be dealing with this and worrying about the mare when he was hunting down the kidnapper.

  Franny wove between the tree trunks, seemingly without destination or thought to how far she was taking her rider away from the trail. Jacob took deep, slow breaths, talking calmly to Franny and letting her lead until he could calm her down. He reached forward to stroke her mane, placing his broad hand on the tense muscles of her neck.

  Her frantic gallop slowed to a trot until finally Jacob was able to guide her to stopping altogether. He dismounted and spoke soothingly to Franny, his low voice helping to slow her heart rate. The poor girl was petrified, and he couldn’t blame her even through his frustration. He wondered when the last time she had even seen a tree, let alone had one almost fall on her. It took a few minutes for her to stop trembling but she seemed to be trusting Jacob enough to allow herself to be led back through the trees, back towards where they came from.

  Jacob was far off the trail now. In the moments when Franny ran frantically, he hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going or what landmarks they were passing. He had a pretty good idea, though, and Jacob stepped over fallen branches and through undergrowth toward where Joel would likely be.

  “Hello!” he cried. If he could just get within the boy’s hearing, he could easily follow that back. “Joel?”

  There was no response, but Jacob kept moving forward, eyes open for any indication of a path to Elk Springs. There would have to be more than one path out of the town, right? It wasn’t a fortress or stronghold. Somewhere nearby there must be some indication of humans making their mark on the wilderness.

  But after twenty minutes of walking through trees, Jacob still didn’t see anything familiar. The broken branches and other signs that he might use in tracking an outlaw weren’t enough for him to trust it as a path back to civilization. He thought for sure he would have come upon the trail or the boy by now.