“I’ll help and—” Simon began to speak.
“You’ll rest,” Uncle Hayes ordered Simon. He pointed at me. “Keep my niece company for a bit. I won’t be too long.” Uncle Hayes looked around and then began sweeping our tracks away.
Simon eased down beside me. “Your Uncle is a good man,” he told me watching Uncle Hayes hard at work.
“Yes, he is,” I agreed. “I didn’t think so before because I was too blind to see him for who he really is. I guess…it takes a hard dose of life to open your eyes to the truth.”
Simon nodded his head and then clapped snow off his gloves. “Ma’am, forgive me for saying, but you don’t seem like the type of woman who would want to live in this territory.”
I dared to look at Simon. My beautiful face felt frozen and very unattractive. I didn’t feel like a lovely young woman who possessed grace and charm. I felt like a worn-down piece of wood covered with dirt. I wondered how I appeared in Simon’s eyes? Did the man see me as beautiful or young, ugly and foolish? “Mr. Johnson, I am a very foolish woman,” I admitted. “You must understand that my dream was to live in Boston, marry a wealthy man, and travel the world while playing beautiful music on lovely, romantic, pianos. My dream was to conquer the world with sweet romance, love, tenderness, adventure…all composed into one beautiful song singing inside of a young, daring heart.” I looked down at my hands feeling ashamed. “My mother issued me a challenge…oh, forget the fancy talking….” I shook my head. “My mother made me a bet of sorts…if I came out here and survived living with my Uncle she and my father would send me off to Boston with their blessings.”
“Your folks sent you out west to go gun to gun with a very hard life and land,” Simon told me in an understanding voice. “Ma’am, don’t take offense, but sometimes a person needs cold water thrown on their face to see the truth. But with that said, there’s no crime in a woman having her own dreams, either.”
“I was foolish to believe I could move to Boston alone and fulfill my dream,” I told Simon. I pulled my coat up and tucked my chin down against the wind and snow. “I always felt like a little girl on my parent’s farm…protected and love, sure…but…well…constrained in a sense. A woman wants…needs…to spread her wings and fly around a bit, Mr. Johnson…but wisely. It’s obvious I’m not prepared to spread my wings and fly at all.”
Simon studied my cold face. “Why?” he asked me. “Because we’re out in a storm trying to put distance between us and some deadly guns? Seems to me, in my eyes, that you’re holding up your end of the wagon pretty good.”
“I’m very scared, Mr. Johnson…I’m very frightened. I wouldn’t call that holding up my end of the wagon.”
Simon folded his arms and studied the snow-covered woods. “Ma’am, I’m scared every day of my life. Every time I strap on my gun, I become mighty scared. Not of dying…a man has to die sometime in his life. I become scared because I might be forced to kill another man. Killing is hard business and it stays with you for the rest of your life. Sometimes I think I’m not cut out for this land…sometimes I think I’m a coward because I don’t have a taste for killing.”
“But your wife?” I asked confused. “Tour war.”
Simon continued to stare into the snow. “I did what had to be done and I killed who needed to be killed…but I never said I liked it.” Simon narrowed his eyes. “Albert Gilmer begged for his life like a dying dog. He pleaded with me with tears in his eyes…with a face covered with death. He was the only man I killed without drawing his gun on me first.” Simon looked down at his gun. “I found Albert Gilmer in his barn saddling his horse. He was alone…I’ll never forget how strong the smell of hay was that morning.”
Simon lifted his eyes but didn’t say anything else. I let silence fall between us for a couple of minutes and then spoke as a powerful gust of wind attacked my face. “No matter where I go there will always be a storm, won’t they?” I asked.
“Afraid so, ma’am,” Simon told me. “I reckon even if we were left alone on this earth trouble would somehow catch up to us. But mostly it’s people that make trouble. A piece of lightning can burn out a prairie and a heavy rain can flood a valley, but the land can heal. The trouble in a man’s soul…it never finds peace until it reaches the end of a bullet.”
“Does it always have to be that way?” I pleaded. I turned and grabbed Simon’s hand in fear. “Mr. Johnson, there has to be a way to live without running from a bullet. Why my parents live their lives in peace.”
Simon stared into my eyes. “Your Pa never had to draw a gun on another man?” he asked me.
I felt my heart shatter. “A few times…yes. I remember when I was younger and these two men came riding up on the farm. My parents were working in the field. Those three men…they beat my father and nearly killed him. They stole everything we had. It wasn’t long after that those same two men came back…my father was wearing his guns when they rode up on the farm. The two men drew on him but my father was quicker.”
“Your Pa killed two dangerous men is what you’re saying.”
I nodded my head yes. “A year later a man rode up on our farm and tried to kill my father with an ax. He was very drunk. My father had to shoot him.” I looked out into the sea of snow. “My mother told me stories about my father having to gun down a man for trying to steal our horses when I was very little. But the farm has been quiet since the man with the ax was shot and killed. It seems like folks are settling down inside…becoming more civilized.” I sighed. “Or maybe it’s because the town we live outside of hired a Marshall that shoots to kill without asking questions. His reputation has spread and a lot of men stay away.”
“Men like that are needed to make sure justice is carried out,” Simon told me. “When I was a small boy I knew a man by the name of David Young. He was a lawman, mean as a grizzly bear and deadlier than a pit full of hungry rattlesnakes. He was half Apache and half white man.” Simon spotted Uncle Hayes in the distance. Uncle Hayes paused his work of sweeping our tracks away, stretched his back, and then went back to work. “David Young hunted down Brown Wolf and hung him.”
“Brown Wolf?” I asked.
“A deadly white man who was raised up by the Apache,” Simon explained. “Even the Apache feared him. But David Young didn’t fear no man. He hunted down Brown Wolf and caught him in a small cave. Brown Wolf’s body was found with four bullet holes…two in the right shoulder, one in the left hand and one in the right leg. I reckon Brown Wolf put up a fight before David Young hung him.”
“Mr. Johnson, why are you telling me this?” I pleaded.
“Because Brown Wolf killed anyone who crossed…man, woman, child…didn’t matter. He killed because he was a bloodthirsty savage,” Simon told me. “I can’t tell you how many people stayed alive because David Young had the guts to tangle with Brown Wolf. Point I’m trying to make is that when a man backs down he loses. A man has to stand and fight, ma’am, or he’s already dead. Brown Wolf killed many men with simple fear.” Simon nodded his head at the storm. “There will always be ‘Brown Wolf’s’ in this world, but we can’t stand down and die out of fear. We have to live, ma’am, and in order to live, we have to fight.”
I looked into Simon’s eyes and saw a man who wasn’t going to go to his grave as a coward—a man who understood what it meant to live by courage and not fear. “Are you saying I should still go to Boston?”
“Ma’am, are I’m saying is that men cross the oceans and fight many storms doing it. But you sure ain’t gonna get across the world sitting in one place worrying about what’s hiding in the shadows. And let me tell you that being afraid, why, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid. But when we let out fear gun us down in the back, well then, we might as well dig our own grave right now.” Simon stood up. “We better get moving.” Simon waved at Uncle Hayes. Uncle Hayes nodded his head and walked back to his mule. “Ma’am, you just keep taking one step at a time and you’ll be just fine.”
I wasn’t sure what to say
so I didn’t say anything. I stood up, brushed snow off my coat, and watched Uncle Hayes untie his mule.
Chapter Six: Fight in the Snow
When Uncle Hayes pointed at a large boulder soaked with snow and hollered: “Hunting trail is past that boulder!” I felt relief course through my scared heart. I glanced over my shoulder, spotted Simon studying the boulder, and hurried to catch up with Uncle Hayes. “We’re safe now, right?” I asked breathing hard. The snow was thicker and becoming very difficult to walk through.
Uncle Hayes examined the boulder. “Safe from Hank Norris and his boys, sure,” he said in a worried voice, “but not from this storm. We’re not going to get much farther, that’s for sure.” Uncle Hayes tucked his chin down. “This wind is sharp enough to cut a man in two.”
Simon walked up to Uncle Hayes. “We need to dig in before night falls,” he said over the howling winds. “There’s a cave about three miles up the trail. If we can make it to the cave I think we’ll be able to settle down for the night without much fuss.”
“I know the cave,” Uncle Hayes told Simon. He threw his eyes around at the storm. The land was white, frozen and dangerous. Worry dropped down his face like broken pieces of ice falling off a sharp cliff. “We better hurry and take cover,” he said and shook snow out of his beard. “Niece, we got a little more walking to do and then we’ll set camp. Can you manage that?”
“I think…so,” I said through shivering teeth. I felt frozen. My hands and feet had no feeling. The icy winds were cutting into my face. My ears hurt. All my eyes could manage to grab was the color white covering a rugged, fierce, landscape. Even if we made it to the cave what would that mean? Sure, the cave would offer shelter from the snow and wind but not from the cold. But what choice was there? I felt panic grip my heart. And then, I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder. I turned and saw Simon blazing eyes.
“Ma’am, you’re gonna have to get real rough,” Simon told in a stern voice. “Hank Norris and his boys, well, I ain’t worried about them right now. Right now we have to worry about this weather. The temperature is dropping and the wind is getting a whole lot colder. It’s going to be a rough night and I need to you even rougher.”
“I’ll…try,” I promised.
Simon nodded his head. “Ma’am, I’ve run a lot of cattle over the land and there were times when riding the saddle nearly broke me. Some mornings I’d wake up knowing I had a hard day of cattle running ahead of me and feel like I could even put on my boots. Riding the saddle is mighty hard at times, but a man just does what he has to do. I need you to do what you to do, ma’am…ride the saddle, okay.”
“I…yes, okay,” I told Simon feeling near the verge of collapse.
“Let’s get out legs moving,” Uncle Hayes called out over the wind. “Old Jack is nearly frozen.”
I drew in a cold breath and stared forcing through the snow. I walked for what seemed like hours and then when I thought I couldn’t take another step, Uncle Hayes pointed to cluster of rocks. I followed his hand and spotted a dark hole wedged between the rocks. “Is that the cave, Uncle Hayes?” I cried over the wind.
Uncle Hayes nodded his head. “We best hurry,” he warned me. “Simon, how is that shoulder?”
“I’ll live,” Simon assured Uncle Hayes. The poor man appeared weak and to the point of absolute collapse. I couldn’t imagine his pain, fatigue, worry, and frustrations. His brother was dead—shot down by the Norris Brothers. He had been bushwhacked and nearly killed. And now the poor man was trapped in a snowstorm. What was he thinking? Feeling? I didn’t know. What I did know was that Simon was a strong man—a fighter—who wasn’t going to rest until he avenged his brother’s death. The snowstorm was simply a bump in his saddle and nothing else.
“Good,” Uncle Hayes said and hurried his mule to the cave. I followed behind, unsure of what to actually expect. Oh sure, I had been in a cave before. Green Diamond cave back in Tennessee was a favorite spot for the kids; of course, Green Diamond was nothing more than a small room no bigger than a kitchen—a man wearing a blindfold couldn’t get himself lost in the cave.
“Uncle Hayes?” I called out.
“What is it, Niece?” Uncle Hayes yelled over his shoulder as he hurried cave’s entrance and peeked his head in.
“Is this cave safe?” I asked. I stopped behind Uncle Hayes and waited for him to pull his head out and focus on my question.
“Only been in this cave once…years ago,” Uncle Hayes told me pulling his head out. “This is a deep cave, Niece. Men have entered this cave and never come out. But I reckon if we stay at the front here and don’t go wondering off we’ll be okay.” Uncle Hayes studied the snow. “We’re going to need firewood,” he told Simon. “You put Old Jack here in the cave and I’ll go fetch us some wood. It’s going to take a bit for the wood to dry, but what choice do we have? A fire later on is better than no fire at all.”
Simon agreed and cautiously walked the mule into the cave. I followed. “This is so scary,” I whispered stepping into a dark, cold, cave. The icy winds ran in behind me and started screaming down a deep, deadly, tunnel. “Oh…please Jesus, give me strength.”
Simon stopped walking. He turned and focused on me. “This is as far as we go,” he told me. “That tunnel leads down a long ways and then branches off. I’ve been in this cave two times before and ventured down the tunnel until it branched off into four other tunnels. I’m not sure where the tunnels lead I don’t intend to find out. If we stay up near the entrance we’ll be fine.”
Standing in a dark cave made me feel very frightened. In my mind I saw hideous dead men watching me from the tunnel, waiting to jump out at any second. Of course, I knew my imagination was simply working overtime. Jesus was in control of the living and the dead and I knew once a person dies his body would not wake up until the Resurrection. But still, my mind couldn’t help to see horrible images in the ugly, terrifying, darkness. “I don’t think I can stay in this place, Mr. Johnson. I—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence. Uncle Hayes came running into the cave, grabbed me, and hunkered down. “It’s Hank Norris and his boys,” he whispered. “If apples ain’t red…I sure don’t know how they caught up to us in this here storm?”
Simon ran to the cave’s entrance and peered out. He spotted three men climbing down from their horses near a group of boulders standing on the other side of the trail. The three men hurried behind the boulders and vanished. “It’s Hank Norris and his sons, alright,” Simon said. He pulled his gun out and looked at Uncle Hayes. “They have us trapped.”
“You bet they do,” Uncle Hayes told Simon. His voice mixed in with the winds and carried down the tunnel. “If they go any dynamite on them we’re in a world of trouble.”
“Dynamite?” I exclaimed.
Uncle Hayes put his hand over my mouth. “Not so loud, Niece.”
“I didn’t see any dynamite,” Simon assured me. “Only rifles.” Simon studied the boulders Hank Norris and his sons were now hiding behind. “I heard Hank Norris was a good tracker.”
“Yeah, I heard the same,” Uncle Hayes said. “I was sure hoping this storm would keep him off our trial.” Uncle Hayes rubbed his beard. “Simon, what are your thoughts?”
Simon kept his eyes focused on the boulders. “You have your rifle. I have my guns. We can hold them off for a while, but eventually, we’re going to run out of bullets…and it’s going to get dark real soon too.” Simon grew silent for a few minutes. “I reckon all we can do is wait for now and—” Before Simon could finish his sentence, a single rifle bullet was fired. The bullet exploded into the cave and stuck the right wall of the tunnel. Simon pulled his arm out of the sling Uncle Hayes had made and rubbed his shoulder with his gun hand. “Looks like Hank Norris ain’t gonna wait until it gets dark.”
“Johnson!” A deadly, furious, voice yelled into the cave. “Johnson, this is Hank Norris, boy! So you better listen to me and listen real good, you hear?”
“I’m listening, Norri
s!” Simon yelled back.
“I know you got Hayes and his niece in that cave with you. I ain’t interested in them. Hayes ain’t ever caused me no concern, and I don’t fancy hurting a woman. Never have, and never will,” Hank Norris yelled. “All I want is to put a bullet through your chest and go back to my ranch. But if you refuse to come out of that cave, as sure as I’m standing here, Hayes and his niece will die. Their blood will be on your hands!”
Uncle Hayes stood up and walked bravely over to the cave’s entrance and yelled at the top of his lungs: “Hank Norris, you ain’t nothing but a yellowbelly skunk. You’ll kill me and my niece just as soon as Johnson is dead! I know your kind, Norris. You didn’t track us down to kill one man and live me and my niece alone! So don’t you throw your lies into the wind!”
Uncle Hayes was answered with a rifle shot. “You want us, Norris, you’re going to have to come in and get us—dead or alive!” Uncle Hayes turned and looked at me. “Nice, get behind Old Jack and stay behind him!”
I hurried behind the mule. “Uncle Hayes, what are we going to do?” I begged.
Uncle Hayes looked outside. “More men arriving,” he said in a worried voice. “Look there.”
Simon spotted four men on horseback arrive. The men ran their horses behind the boulders and vanished. “We’re not going to be able to fight them,” he said in an angry voice. “Norris has us outnumbered.”
“Yep,” Uncle Hayes agreed. “Looks like we’re done for if we decide to stay here and fight.”
Simon gave Uncle Hayes a strange look. “If we decide to stay here and fight?” he asked. “What choice do we have but to stay here and fight. If we try and run they’ll cut us down as soon as we step out of the cave.”
Uncle Hayes rubbed his beard. “I told my niece I’ve been in this here cave once before, and that was no lie. An old timer brought me to this cave and showed me around. You see, that old timer stashed his gold in this cave, way down in them tunnels. Many men tried to find his gold, too, but they never came back out once they got turned around in them tunnels.”
Amanda's New Beginning: Contemporary Romance Page 5