An explosion cut off Nate’s next comment. He could feel the vibration through the ground. Dropping his plate, he leapt to his feet. “Stay with Cora.”
He only got two steps away before Rebekah yelled, “Wait!”
He took a second to turn and shout over his shoulder, “Just stay here.”
As he raced to keep up with all the other men, Nate refused to miss out on a chance to learn anything he could about the latest bit of trouble. He had a job to do and, up to now, he’d been completely unsuccessful. No way would he let an outlaw best him.
Chapter Fifteen
By the time Nate had climbed the hill south of town—what seemed like halfway up War Eagle Mountain—he was out of breath and wishing he’d stopped to saddle his horse. Many men were on foot, though, with only a few on horseback or wagon, leaving most gasping for air.
Smoke billowed from another mill, this one an ore-extracting mill instead of a lumber mill. Listening to all the chatter and mur-murings, Nate discovered the name was Zimmer’s Stamp Mill. Now he had to find out who Zimmer was and why his place was targeted. He’d met enough men in the time he’d worked for Perry that learning information shouldn’t be as difficult this time as it was at the fire he’d helped put out.
Perry huffed up beside him, bending over to rest his hands on his knees and suck in great breaths. “I ain’t—as young—as I used to be.”
“You all right?”
Perry nodded. “Just—give me a minute.”
Impatience ate at Nate. He needed to find out what had happened. Just as he’d decided to try to gain entry into the mill to see if he could help, a few men came out, more smoke trailing after them through the doorway. Suspicion snaked through Nate’s thoughts until it took over his entire mind. They’d all raced up the hill from the picnic together. So how did these men get into the mill before everyone else?
The lead man put his hands up, quieting the crowd. “There wasn’t much of a fire. It’s already out. Everything’s under control.”
The crowd clustered around the men. The sheriff, almost the last to arrive, pushed his way to the front. “What happened, Mr. Zimmer?”
So this was the owner? Nate moved closer to make sure he heard everything said. Perry was right on his heels.
“The crusher’s been blown up, along with all the mechanisms that make it work properly. It’ll take months to get it back in working order.” The owner shook his head, his hands lifting and dropping in a helpless gesture. “If it’s even worth the trouble.”
The last was said so quietly, Nate was sure the man didn’t mean for anyone to hear it. Someone bumped his arm. He looked down and found Henry at his side.
“What was the explosion, Grant?”
Mr. Zimmer’s gaze was steady. “Only thing it could have been was dynamite or something similar.”
“You saying someone wanted to put you out of business?” Henry seemed to want to make certain there were no doubts in anyone’s minds as to the intent.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Henry.” Now that the shock was over, Mr. Zimmer’s anger began to show. “And if I get my hands on the person—”
The sheriff grabbed Mr. Zimmer’s arm and tried to turn him around. “Take me to the damage, Grant. I want to look at it. Maybe I can see something you missed.”
Nate stepped forward. “I’d like to go too.”
The sheriff waved him away. “I don’t think so.”
“I think you should consider it, Grant.” Perry moved between Nate and the sheriff as if to ward off any kind of disagreement that might arise. “Nate’s been working for me in the livery, and he’s pretty handy with metal works. I’d trust him with even the most difficult task.”
Sheriff Caldwell shook his head. “Be that as it may, I don’t think—”
“Actually, I think Perry’s right.” Mr. Zimmer reached out his hand. “I’m Grant Zimmer.”
Nate shook his hand. “Nathaniel Kirkland. I’ll help in any way I can.” And he meant every word. His help just might not be what everyone expected.
The sheriff cut Nate a venomous look before Mr. Zimmer led the way through the door, across a room, and up a set of stairs. A wide platform ran along a chute. A thin ribbon of smoke still rose from the site of the blast. Several pieces of metal lay twisted and torn, ripped apart from whatever explosive was used to do a great deal of damage to the area that seemed most important to the mill’s operation. From his experience with metal, Nate knew it would take weeks of work to repair the destruction. If only he had as much experience with explosives.
“So, what do you think, young Nate? Any hope for getting this thing up and running any time soon?” Mr. Zimmer’s eyes looked hopeful.
Nate hated to snuff that hope, but he had to be honest. “I wish I could say yes, Mr. Zimmer, but this is a mess. Even working nonstop, it’d take weeks to patch up all this. Some pieces are beyond repair.” He scanned the area. “You’d need to order more, or let me cut and form new pieces.” But doing that, he’d have no time to investigate.
Looking down, Mr. Zimmer nodded. “That’s what I thought. Thank you, Nate, for your honesty.” He released a long, slow breath as he descended the steps. “I should have paid.”
Nate frowned. “What?”
The sheriff placed his hand on Nate’s back. “Could you help me with this? I’d like to look under this sheet of metal. See if there’s anything that’ll tell me what was used and who might have put it there.”
As much as Nate wanted to follow Mr. Zimmer and ask what he meant about paying, he also wanted the chance to investigate, and the sheriff just gave him the chance. He’d look up the owner and ask his questions later.
At least half an hour later, Nate knew no more than when he’d walked in the door. Whoever blew up the mill managed to do so without leaving any traces to disclose who they were. It was as if these people had been doing this type of work long enough to know exactly how to keep from being discovered. How else could such damage be done without leaving a hint of evidence behind? And from what his superiors told him, this had been going on for months.
Perry was the only one who’d waited for him. All the other men had returned to town. Doing his best to answer Perry’s questions as they descended the mountain, Nate’s mind was on one thing only. He had to find Mr. Zimmer and ask what he meant by paying. Paying whom? And how much? But most of all, for what? This was the first indication blackmail might be involved. Up to now, Nate and his superiors had thought all the crime was due to mischief or attempts to slow other miners from finding ore.
They arrived in town with the celebration back up and running, the noise level high again now that the meal was finished and the games had started. With all the frenzy of people milling around, finding Mr. Zimmer would be like trying to find daylight at the bottom of a shaft.
Perry tapped his arm. “Looks like the single-jack contest is over. I’m going to see if I can find my family. Want to join me?”
Much as Nate liked the Weaver family, this might be the only day he had plenty of time to look around and ask questions, not to mention meet more of the residents. “Maybe later. I’m going to wander around for a while, watch more games, and meet more people.”
“All right. Have fun.”
Seconds later, Perry was out of sight, enveloped by the crowd. Nate glanced down both sides of the street. Where might he find Mr. Zimmer? The sheriff’s office might be a good place to start. He made his way north, jumping off the boardwalk when it became too busy.
Commotion to his right grabbed his attention. One of the two young men he had helped arrest his first day in town had fallen, probably off the boardwalk because of his obvious drunken state. His friend remained on the boardwalk pointing and laughing while hanging onto a post in front of the same saloon where Nate had last seen them inebriated.
Disgusted, he continued down the street, only to stop after a few steps and turn back. He’d been told all businesses closed on celebration days, yet the saloon was o
pen. Whether or not that was usual, Nate didn’t care. But was Mr. Zimmer inside? The possibility of losing a business would drive many a man to drink. It would take but a minute to venture inside for a look.
Nate pushed through the swinging doors and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark interior, while a bitter stench assaulted his nostrils. Once he could see clearly, he noticed several men occupied the tables, most with decks of cards strewn across their surfaces. Off to his left, the long bar also supported the elbows of a few men, including those of Henry and Mr. Zimmer, the latter with his head sagging close to the polished wood and the glass of whiskey dangling precariously from his fingertips. No glass or mug sat in front of Henry. Only the local paper occupied his hands.
Sliding onto the stool next to Henry, Nate motioned toward Mr. Zimmer. “I guess he came directly here after leaving the mill to be in that condition already.”
“Yes, sir.” Henry folded the paper and dropped it on the bar. “He looked mighty upset so I trailed him here. Thought maybe I’d keep an eye on him. Make sure he didn’t run into any trouble.”
“Couldn’t keep him from drinking, though, huh?”
“Nope. He seemed dead set on finding solace at the bottom of a glass.”
Nate nodded. “That’s what I figured. I planned to look for him at the sheriff’s office but thought a quick check in here might be in order.” He crossed his arms and rested them on the bar. “I thought all businesses closed for these celebrations.”
Henry chuckled. “You really think a saloon will stay closed with all these men in town, especially if most of the men are miners?” He clapped Nate on the back. “A day like this is a barkeep’s own gold mine.” He hunched over the bar like Nate. “So, did the sheriff find anything at the mine that will help locate the men who blew it up?”
“Not a trace.” Nate shook his head. “If there hadn’t been so much damage, you’d almost think it exploded all by itself, which is really strange. There should be some hint of the explosive used.”
Henry bumped him. “Don’t fret on it too much. That job belongs to the sheriff. The only thing you need to worry about is having too much fun today…. Speaking of fun, what in the world are you doing in here instead of kicking up your heels out there with a pretty girl?”
“Same as you, I guess. Wanted to make sure Mr. Zimmer would be all right.” He shrugged. “Thought maybe if I found him, I could ask a question or two.”
“Well, I doubt asking questions will work at the moment.” Henry stood and placed his hand on Mr. Zimmer’s shoulder. “But how about you help me get this man home safe, then we both can start enjoying what’s left of the day?”
Nate rose. “I like the sound of that.”
He hooked his arm under one of Mr. Zimmer’s while Henry took the other side. Together they lifted the large mill owner from the stool, Nate taking most of the weight, and headed for the door.
Henry nodded the direction they needed to go; then a hint of trouble flickered across his face. “What questions?”
Nate grunted. Mr. Zimmer was a lot heavier than he looked. But then, he wasn’t giving them a lick of help in taking on some of the weight by walking. They nearly had to drag the man.
“He made a comment about how he should have paid.”
“Paid? What’s that mean?” Henry’s question came out like a growl, probably from the strain of their burden.
“That’s what I wanted to ask him.”
Henry choked on his laugh. “Right.”
“Hold up there.”
At the command, both Nate and Henry stopped. Sheriff Caldwell swung around in front of them. “What’s going on here?”
Henry muttered something Nate couldn’t understand, then cast a sneer toward the sheriff. “Look, Paul, either help—or get out of the way. The man’s falling down drunk, and we aim to get him home.”
The sheriff shoved Nate away and took his place holding up Mr. Zimmer. “I’ll take over here. I think Perry’s been looking for this young man.” He motioned toward Nate, then gave Henry a nod. “Let’s get moving. I got work to do.”
Determined to locate Mr. Zimmer in the next day or two to get answers to his questions, Nate watched them stumble off for only a minute or two before heading to find Perry. Following all the shouts of laughter, Nate found Perry and his family, along with most of the other residents, crowded around a small pen. He moved next to Perry, only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled close.
“You have to see this, Nate. The funniest thing you’ll see today.”
As far as Nate was concerned, that wasn’t much of a challenge. Not many humorous things had taken place so far. “What’s happening?”
“One at a time, the kids are turned loose inside the pen along with a chicken. Whoever catches one the fastest wins a prize. You made it just in time. Andrew’s next.” In the next second, Perry deafened Nate as he yelled for his young son. Then he turned back to Nate. “Guaranteed there will be a shortage of eggs tomorrow after these kids are finished scaring these chickens half to death.”
He hooted with laughter at his own joke, drawing a smile from Nate. Shaking off the remainder of his tension, Nate decided the rest of the day would be reserved for fun. He glanced around at all the faces, taking in the festive atmosphere. Even Mrs. Weaver had more color to her cheeks than he’d seen since they’d met. He spied Rebekah standing on the other side of her mother just as she looked up at him. The sparkle in her eyes nearly matched that of when she caught him choking on Cora’s food. Rebekah had never looked prettier.
Before he could move to her side and ask her about finding Cora’s possible admirer, someone gave a shrill whistle. In the blink of an eye, a chicken was tossed into the pen and Andrew burst toward it from the side. Tongue peeking from the side of his mouth, Andrew gave chase for several seconds, then leapt a good four feet and grabbed a leg of the chicken. Both of them rolled in the dirt, feathers and feet flying. Giving a shout, Andrew stood, grinning, the chicken’s leg still grasped in his hand. More than a little unhappy, the chicken squawked and flapped its wings, beating Andrew on both sides of the head. With a peck at the boy’s arm for good measure, the fowl was suddenly free as Andrew clasped his hand over the wound.
The crowd howled with laughter as they clapped and shouted. Looking a bit dejected, Andrew made his way toward the gate. The man who whistled—Nate assumed he was the judge of the game—grabbed Andrew’s arm and raised it high, nearly lifting the boy from the ground.
“The winner!”
As soon as Andrew claimed his prize of a ribbon and a small bag of candy, he raced toward his parents.
Rebekah groaned. “All that sugar will make him excited enough to leap to the roof of the house.”
With feathers still stuck in his hair and a good layer of dirt—not to mention chicken excrement—attached to his clothes, Andrew wrapped his arms around his mother’s waist. He pulled away from her embrace and held up his prize, his wild eyes flashing between his father and Nate.
“Did ya see? Did ya see me get that chicken?” He swung his arms as though grabbing for the fowl once again. “That bird didn’t stand a chance.”
Perry tilted back his head and laughed before ruffling his son’s hair. “You did great, son.”
Nate squatted to be able to look Andrew in the eyes. “You were so fast, no one else had a chance.”
Andrew’s grin did the impossible of stretching even wider, making his freckles nearly disappear.
Nate patted his arm, then stood and moved next to Rebekah. “Did you and Cora find out if she has an admirer?” he murmured.
She turned to fully face him. “Are you poking fun at us?”
As much as he wanted to burst into laughter, he fought it. He placed his hand on his chest and let his jaw drop, hoping to look completely innocent. “Me? Of course not.”
She swatted his arm and shook her finger in his face, showing him she didn’t believe a thing he said, though her lips gave away her amusement. “I’ll have you k
now we were right. Mr. Will Bradford is completely taken with Cora and has already asked her to dine with him after church.”
Chuckling, Nate grabbed her finger and held on. “Well, I’ll have you know that I’m happy the two of you were right.”
Rebekah, head cocked to one side, examined his face. “Thank you.”
Perry moved between them, making Nate release Rebekah’s finger. “Don’t want to interrupt whatever you two are arguing about, but, Nate, we’ve decided that today has been so much fun, we’re having another picnic after church tomorrow, just the family this time. I think we’ll plan to have as many of these as possible each summer since we have warm weather for such a short amount of time. How about you join us?”
Just the family? That sounded a bit too—intimate.
Andrew grabbed his hand and shook it. “Come on, Nate. You can help me catch fish.”
Nate squatted again and closed one eye while squinting the other one. “Does that mean I have to jump in the stream again? Or do I get to use a pole?”
Andrew’s face grew serious. “I didn’t jump in. I fell in.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess that means your sister doesn’t plan on getting in either.”
Andrew laughed. “Or maybe you can teach her to swim.”
Eyebrows raised, Nate turned to see red washing up her neck and into her face. He cleared his throat and put his arm around Andrew’s shoulders. “I don’t think there’s even the smallest chance of that happening.”
Grinning, Perry embraced his daughter in a way that looked consoling. “Does that mean you’ll join us, Nate?”
He stood and nodded. “I believe I will.”
More than anything, he needed to get busy with his job as deputy marshal. But there was something special about this family, and he looked forward to another afternoon with them, even if that meant enduring a Sunday morning sermon. Investigating lawbreakers would have to wait another day. And besides, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon than seeing how many times he could get Rebekah’s face to change color.
Love Finds You in Silver City, Idaho Page 10