Wildfire Creek (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 2)

by Shirleen Davies

  Star Ranch

  “All I’m saying is the men are getting restless.” Flatnose chewed on the end of his cold cigar. “They want to take another gold wagon.” He glanced over at his partner who stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the porch rail.

  “It’s a bad time to pull another robbery. Sheriff Sterling hired more deputies, and the citizens committee hired one of those Pinkerton men. We need to lay low.” He pushed from the railing and dropped his arms. “Truth is, I’ve been considering putting this behind us. We each have more than enough money stashed away. We don’t need to take any more chances.”

  Flatnose flicked the dead cigar out onto the dirt and leaned back in his chair, balancing the front two legs off the floor. “You thinking of taking up life as a gentry with that woman of yours?” His smile came out as a sneer, letting Rick know what he thought about the idea.

  “We’ve pulled enough jobs. There’s no need to put ourselves in danger, and that includes Stella. If someone does connect us with the holdups, they’ll come straight here. My idea is to move the gold, sell the ranch, and start over in something legal.”

  “Legal, huh? You’ve been a farmer and lawman. You gonna put a badge on after all this? I worked for my pa on his place, served time in the Union Army before coming west. What the hell would I do?” Flatnose asked, his voice moving from disbelief to anger.

  “You don’t have to do a damn thing. Retire. Enjoy what you have. Make Stella an honest woman and have children.”

  Flatnose snorted at the idea of marriage. “She’s not the marrying kind and you know it. Besides, I have no use for children.” He tipped the chair down and stood, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I guess if we sell the ranch, I’d head to California.”

  “And leave Stella?”

  “I’d give her plenty of money, make sure she’d be all right. Maybe even buy her a place in Big Pine.”

  “You don’t think she’ll talk?” Rick asked. He had the same fears about the men. Even though they had nothing to gain and everything to lose by exposing other members of the gang, some men were none too bright and one wrong word could bring the law down on all of them.

  “She’ll say nothing. Got no reason to.” Flatnose pulled another cigar from his shirt pocket, cut off the end, and lit it.

  Rick thought about this. No one had anything to gain by talking. Their best course would be to take their gold and leave the area, build new lives as far away from Montana as they could. It would certainly be best for him since Ezra Duncan had arrived in Big Pine.

  He now had to consider the house he’d bought—the one he hoped Felicity would agree to share with him someday.

  He’d already moved his gold to a place no one would ever find it. He knew a buyer in eastern Montana, and had traveled there before buying the house, selling some of the gold and banking the cash. As far as the man knew, Rick had a mine north of Big Pine, and would be coming in every few months to exchange what he’d discovered for cash. Over the next few years, he planned to sell all his gold in amounts that wouldn’t draw too much attention, leaving no trail for anyone to follow.

  “We’ll tell the men before I ride back to Big Pine. Give them time to make plans and leave, then sell the place—livestock, furniture, everything. I don’t want the men around when the new owner arrives.” Rick felt certain he’d made the right decision.

  “You sure about this?” Flatnose asked, still not convinced they couldn’t rob at least one more wagon.

  “I am. It’s time to get out before anyone suspects us. The added law makes more raids too much of a risk. One I’m not willing to take.” Rick didn’t say he also wanted no part in any more killings by Flatnose. He couldn’t count on his partner to keep the bullets in his gun. From what Rick had seen, the man had an almost perverse need to watch others die. Rick wanted to place as much distance between himself and Flatnose as possible.

  “All right. We’ll tell them they need to ride out by the end of the month.” Flatnose let out a puff of smoke, cut off the burnt end, and laid the cigar on the top porch rail. “Stella and I will be out of here soon after.”

  Splendor, Montana

  “Everyone ready?” Gabe asked the men who’d gathered to search the caves. They’d met at the Pelletier ranch and planned to start north of Luke’s place, then ride south toward Noah’s cabin and the Frey brother’s ranch. Frank and Hiram Frey had brought one of their wranglers, Walt Jones—a man who’d lived in one of the caves with his son for a few months before the ranchers had discovered them.

  “Hold up,” Dax called and pointed to Noah.

  “Sorry about being late. King Tolbert gave me a job and wanted to wait for it.” He shrugged at the implication the man always expected to immediately get what he wanted, no matter the inconvenience to others.

  “Guess we’re ready.” Gabe nodded at his friend as he and Dax took up the lead, heading toward the mountain on the other side of Wildfire Creek. They’d been fortunate. The last storm passed through without adding much more snow.

  As they approached the base of the mountain, they split into groups, each one taking a different path to check the existing caves and other places someone could hide.

  “Don’t waste time riding up higher onto the mountain. If people are living in the hills, they’ll most likely be hiding lower to the base, where it’s easier to get in and out during the winter,” Gabe called over his shoulder as he started up a narrow ravine with one group. Dax led another, while Hiram and Frank led the third. They’d meet back at their starting point within an hour, then move south.

  Six hours passed without finding a trace of anyone living in the caves. A few showed signs of habitation, but nothing indicating they’d been lived in within the last several months.

  “Come up here and check this out.”

  Dax looked up ahead to see Walt Jones motioning behind a large group of boulders partway up the mountain.

  “What is it?” Dax rode up, Bull reining to a stop next to him.

  “Looks like someone’s been here recently.” Walt walked into a grotto within the rocks, large enough for several people. “My guess is whoever lived here has been gone a week, maybe two.” He pointed to a fire pit, an empty tin with a lid, and what looked like chicken bones in a pile against one wall.

  “I wonder if the Freys or Noah would recognize the tin.” Bull picked it up and pulled off the lid, noting the crumbs inside. “Looks like it may have held hardtack.”

  “Take it with you.” Dax bent to pick up a rock, which had been chiseled to a point. He’d seen others similar to this in Running Bear’s camp when he and Luke visited last summer.

  “What’d you find?” Walt asked.

  “An arrowhead.” He laid it flat in his palm for Bull and Walt to examine while he glanced around. A few feet away, Dax spotted a smaller one, and slid both into his pocket.

  “Blackfoot?” Walt asked.

  “I don’t know.” Bull took another quick look around before walking outside. “Odd they’d leave arrowheads behind. Takes a good while to make one of them.”

  “Maybe they left in a hurry and missed them. At least we now have some evidence someone’s been living up here, and not too long ago.” Dax swung up on Hannibal and started down the hill to join the others.

  “Find anything?” Gabe asked as Dax, Bull, and Walt joined the rest of the men.

  “Look at this.” Bull handed the tin to Noah.

  “Where’d you find this?” Noah turned it over in his hand, recognizing it.

  “There’s a small grotto up in those boulders.” Bull pointed toward the large rock outcropping halfway up the hill. “Appears someone lived there until recently. You recognize it?”

  “Suzanne packed biscuits in this for me a few months back. I realized it was missing maybe six or eight weeks ago.” Noah slid it into his saddlebag.

  Gabe looked up at the darkening sky. “Guess we’d better start back.”

  “You think it’s Running Bear’s people?” Noa
h asked Dax as they rode toward the ranch.

  “Either them or some of Long Feather’s band. The only way to find out is to ride to Running Bear’s village and speak with him.”

  “We’d best do it soon.” Bull didn’t like heading so far north this time of year. He’d hoped the thefts would have stopped by now, eliminating the need to track down the culprits. The damage at Luke’s place indicated otherwise.

  “It might be best to head north tomorrow and wait to search again until Running Bear has looked at what we found. Bull and I can ride up,” Dax said.

  “I’ll go with you.” Gabe wanted this settled before it created further tensions between the ranchers and local Blackfoot tribe. Or worse, escalated into violence if cattle or horses came up missing.

  “Be at the ranch at sunup and we’ll head out.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Moosejaw, Montana

  “Maybe we’ll be able to head out tomorrow.” Luke let go of the curtain in the front window of the hotel. They’d been stuck in the eastern range of Montana for three days, waiting for the storm to pass. The last few hours had been the first signs it might be letting up. It would take at least two days to reach Big Pine, then one more for Luke to make it to Splendor.

  Tom looked up from the piece of paper he held in his hand—a telegram from Sheriff Sterling. “At least we made it here before the worst of it started.” He handed the message to Luke, who read through it.

  “No more robberies since you left. Maybe the gang has moved on.” Luke folded the message and tossed it on the table.

  “Perhaps, or they may be laying low, waiting out the winter.”

  “Except gold must be moved all year, not just when the weather’s clear. You would think a gold wagon, moving in thick snow, would be a prime target. Whatever the reason, I’d wager they’ll start up again, unless they’ve left Montana.” Luke’s words triggered a memory of Flatnose Darvis and his gang targeting gold transport wagons. They’d mentioned a ranch in Montana, but not the town. Could there be a connection between the robberies in Bison Basin, Idaho, and those near Big Pine? “Did you get a response from Dutch?”

  Tom had sent a message to Dutch, wondering if he’d gotten a new assignment or still sat in Denver, as they sat in Moosejaw, biding his time.

  “He’s waiting to hear from headquarters. Gus Salter offered him a job, taking over for Bob Bray.”

  “Dutch, a ranch foreman?” Luke smiled at the thought of Dutch moving from Confederate spy to Pinkerton man to head wrangler. “I don’t see him working cows all day.”

  Tom chuckled at the vision it made. “He turned Salter down.”

  “Salter’s offer is positive in one way. Seems as if the family is moving on.” Luke thought of the stricken look on Gus’ face as he watched his friend die.

  “He’s a tough one. My gut tells me they’ll be fine, including Nell.” Tom stood and walked to the window, looking on to the main street. “You’re right. Seems to be clearing up. It might be we can head out at first light.”

  “We’ll need to wait until the telegraph office opens,” Luke said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I need to send Dutch a message. It may be Pinkerton will want him to travel to Big Pine.”

  North Boundary of Redemption’s Edge

  Dax sat atop Hannibal, using his field glasses to look down onto the Blackfoot village below. He’d been watching a band of Running Bear’s warriors on the opposite ridge. They’d been following him, Gabe, and Bull for the last hour, making no move to approach.

  The three started out at dawn, stopping only to rest the horses as they headed toward the Blackfoot village. Dax and Luke had met Running Bear once. The meeting had been cordial, the chief impressive, and the village filled with women and children. They’d been told the warriors were out hunting. Running Bear’s English had surprised Dax and Luke, neither expecting to be able to communicate with the chief. They’d been wrong.

  “What do you see?”

  Dax handed Gabe the field glasses. “Take a look.”

  “The village looks quiet. Mainly women and children.” He handed the glasses to Bull, who took a quick look before giving them back to Dax.

  “It’s not as large as I thought.” Bull shifted to look at the warriors, who still watched from the opposite ridge.

  “Time to head down.” Dax nudged Hannibal forward.

  When they were within a hundred yards of the village, Bull glanced over his shoulder to see the group who’d been following them closing in, forming a semicircle so there’d be no retreat unless the chief allowed it.

  Children began to run toward them, drawing the attention of their mothers and the elders of the village. A pretty, young woman Dax recognized as Running Bear’s daughter walked to a tipi, opened the flap, and stepped inside. Within moments, Running Bear emerged and walked toward them in slow, measured strides, his head held high.

  Dax, Gabe, and Bull slid from their horses, handing the reins to the children who crowded around. They waited in silence as the chief approached. He stopped before Dax, his face unreadable.

  “It is good to see you again, my friend.”

  “It is good to see you, Chief Running Bear. These are my friends, Gabe Evans and Bull Mason. We have come to speak with you about an important matter.”

  The chief nodded, motioning for them to follow him. He spoke rapidly to the young warriors who’d followed them to the village, then continued on to his tipi and stepped inside.

  “It seems we’re to follow him.” Dax stepped into the tipi behind Running Bear. Gabe and Bull followed, as did two elders from the village, everyone taking a seat on the ground.

  Dax waited, uncertain of the etiquette for bringing up the reason for their visit.

  Time passed without a word being spoken, Blackfoot or English, as each man took in the others, until Running Bear decided the time had come to speak.

  “You say you have come to speak of an important matter, my friend?”

  “Yes,” Dax replied.

  The chief motioned with his hand to continue. It didn’t take Dax long to explain what had been happening, careful not to accuse the tribe of anything. He said they sought answers, nothing more. He pulled out the arrowheads and handed them to Running Bear, who turned them over in his hand, then gave them back to Dax.

  “Do you know if they are from your village?” Dax asked as he slipped the arrowheads back in his pocket.

  “There is no way to know.” Running Bear stood, motioning for Dax to follow him outside, while Gabe and Bull remained inside with the elders. “We will walk.”

  They followed a path toward the creek, which ran to the west of the village. Running Bear stopped at the edge of the water, clasping his hands behind his back before breathing in the cold winter air.

  “There is one who might have the answers you seek.”

  “Who is this man?” Dax asked.

  “Long Feather.”

  “Yes, I know of him. How do I find Long Feather?”

  “My braves tell me his people are camped to the north, a long way from here.”

  Dax thought of the distance, thinking it made no sense unless a renegade group had splintered off, no longer camping with Long Feather’s band. Perhaps he’d exiled them. If they’d been unable to hunt or catch fish, they would be driven to steal.

  “Does his village have many people?” Dax asked.

  “Not so many as my people. There are few women and children.”

  Dax heard nothing to provide answers about who could be stealing from the local ranchers. The one certainty seemed to be the innocence of those in Running Bear’s village. The chief knew them all and no one had vanished.

  “Thank you, Running Bear. I will seek answers elsewhere.”

  He followed the chief back to where Gabe and Bull still sat, cross-legged, inside the tipi.

  “Let’s go.” Dax turned toward the horses. He reached into each saddlebag and took out several bundles, handing them to Running Bear.
He’d watched Rachel pack fabric, tobacco, dried beans, and bread. At the last moment, she’d slipped in a handful of candy purchased from the general store.

  Running Bear handed the packages to the women, and in return, offered Dax necklaces and bracelets of elk teeth, and a club with a stone head.

  Dax, Gabe, and Bull rode out, again followed by the same group of young braves. They didn’t know any more now than when they rode in. As they rode, Dax explained what little Running Bear knew of the thefts and his suggestion of finding Long Feather.

  “So far, nothing makes sense.” Bull rode next to Dax, puzzled by the lack of information. “No one from Running Bear’s village is missing, yet there were clear signs whoever is stealing is from one of the tribes.”

  “Searching for Long Feather’s camp would gain us nothing. He’s not a friend of the whites. Running Bear has chosen to try to live alongside us, while Long Feather wants to rid us from the territory.” Dax looked over his shoulder, noting Running Bear’s braves no longer followed them. “His camp is miles away from our ranch or the Frey’s. They’d search for food closer to their village, not this far south.”

  “We can continue to search the mountain.” Gabe wasn’t at all convinced they’d be able to locate the thieves before the worst storms began. “You, the Freys, and Luke can post men to keep watch on the supplies. Noah doesn’t have that option.”

  “Hank is moving all the supplies into our root cellar, including the beans and grains. I don’t see how we can post an extra man at Luke’s. We’ll have to find another answer until the thieves are caught.”

  “Do you want to continue the searches?” Bull asked.

  Dax reined to a stop and slid off Hannibal, checking the cinch as he weighed the needs of the ranch against the small amount of supplies they’d lost.

  “No. We’ll need every man to help with the stock, and I don’t see any real threat other than the loss of supplies.”

  “You’re right, except you never know what anyone will do if they’re hungry and confronted by someone who has what they want.” Gabe pushed his hat further down and pulled up his collar to ward off the increasingly cold air.