Kid Calhoun

by Joan Johnston

  “Then you will have to persuade Stalking Deer to come with me,” Wolf said.

  “I won’t—”

  Gunshots cut Jake off. He pivoted and saw that the outlaws had caught up to them. He swore under his breath. When he turned back the Apache was gone. And Anabeth had gone with him.

  Or so he thought. As Jake mounted the buckskin and spurred it away, he realized their tracks soon parted and went in two different directions. He followed the Kid’s trail, anxious to catch up to her before the outlaws—or the Apache—did.

  In fact, Wolf had grabbed Anabeth and pulled her along with him for some distance. She had yanked herself free and railed at him, “I will not be your woman, Wolf.” They were running full tilt by then, and her voice was breathless as she warned, “If you try to take me to your village, I will only run away.”

  “Come with me—”

  “No! Go away from me! I do not want you.”

  Wolf’s face paled. But he did not argue further. He turned in a different direction and moments later had blended into the terrain.

  Anabeth kept running. She knew Jake would come after her. She didn’t intend to make it hard for him to find her. Indeed, it was only minutes before Jake rode up behind her, leaned down, and pulled her up and across his lap.

  “I’ll take the rifle, now.”

  Anabeth handed it over, and Jake put it back in the boot on his saddle.

  “Will he hurt Claire?” Jake asked.

  “Apaches don’t make war on women and children.”

  “They killed Claire’s son.”

  “Sometimes there are accidents. But I don’t believe Claire will be mistreated. It’s only the men who get—” Anabeth stopped.

  “—tortured to death? Is that what you wanted to say?”

  “The Apache learned what they know of torture from the Spaniards. And the Mexicans. And the Americans.” She put her hand on Jake’s forearm, a gesture of comfort. “Claire will be all right.”

  “Will he let her go?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Will he—” Jake swallowed hard. “Will he rape her?”

  Anabeth turned stark eyes on Jake. “I don’t know. If he decides he wants her …”

  “But he would rather have you.”

  “Wolf and I grew up together. We were like brother and sister. I don’t feel for him … what I feel for you.”

  She felt Jake’s thighs tauten beneath her. She waited for him to ask her what it was she felt for him.

  Jake held her tight, but said nothing, just spurred the buckskin into a lope again. The sky was beginning to lighten with pinks and yellows, a beautiful dawn breaking over the horizon.

  They rode for most of the day with no sounds of pursuit. At last Anabeth asked, “Do you think we’ve lost them?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “We’re not far from the valley now. You can let me down here.”

  His arms tightened for a moment before he released her so she could slide to the ground. She headed directly for what appeared to be a solid rock wall. She picked up a piece of brush and began to wipe away their trail in the sand.

  “What are you doing?” Jake asked.

  “We’ve already passed by the entrance to the valley once. When we double back, I’m going to make sure there are no tracks for the gang to follow.”

  Jake turned and looked back at the high canyon wall. He saw nothing that looked like an opening. No wonder the valley had remained hidden. Jake turned and rode the buckskin back in the direction from which they had come, looking for the entrance to the valley. Still he saw nothing. He stopped the buckskin and waited for Anabeth to wipe out the tracks he had left.

  She pointed to a slight vertical shadow along the wall. “There.”

  It was not until Jake was at the opening that he realized the stone overlapped a deeper wall and that it was possible to ride into the crevice.

  “Stop there,” Anabeth warned as she followed him inside. “This tunnel goes on for a while before you reach the valley. There are several booby traps to discourage unwanted visitors.”

  The tunnel narrowed in places so that Jake’s stirrups scraped against the walls. At one point Anabeth showed Jake where a rockslide had been rigged. A small rope stretched across the narrow tunnel at ground level where it could be tripped by man or animal.

  “What happens if someone triggers that slide?”

  “We won’t be leaving the valley again this way,” she said.

  “Is there another way out?”

  Anabeth opened her mouth to tell Jake the truth, then shut it again. He was still a lawman determined to bring her to justice. She might need the advantage of being the only one to know the one other way out of the valley. She avoided answering his question by saying, “Don’t worry. They’re not going to find the opening. No one ever has. No one ever will.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Jake muttered. He saw the light at the end of the tunnel and slowed to let Anabeth lead the way into the valley. He was amazed at the size of it—the sheer cliffs on all sides, the acres of grassy valley that stretched out before him.

  Sometime, aeons ago, a volcano had erupted and mounds of molten lava had split and flowed around this island of land. The lava had cooled, leaving a pristine valley captured within its towering grasp. He saw the stone house backed up against the wall near the entrance to the valley, a fortress against intruders.

  “You can stable your horse behind the house,” Anabeth said. “There’s a cave back there that has a seep of water.”

  Jake began to appreciate the planning that had gone into the placement of the house, with its protected water source. This must have been a perfect hideout for someone like Booth Calhoun. A tunnel that was hard to find unless you were right on top of it. Booby traps to catch interlopers. And a fortress to fight off anyone who managed to get past that first line of defense.

  “Come into the house, and I’ll make us some coffee.” Anabeth busied herself with making a fire in the fireplace while Jake seated himself at the head of the table. Here he was in the valley at last, but finding Sam’s gold suddenly didn’t seem so important anymore. Finding Claire did.

  “Can you take me to the village where that Apache is holding Claire captive?”

  Anabeth paused in what she was doing to look at Jake with bleak eyes. “Even if I knew where it was, I wouldn’t take you there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you would kill Wolf. Or he would kill you.”

  “I can’t just leave her there!”

  “Wolf knows how to get here. He’ll come to see me again. When he does, I’ll talk to him. Once he realizes I’m not going to change my mind, he’ll surely let Claire go.”

  “What am I supposed to do, meanwhile? Just sit here and wait?”

  She gestured to a book on the table. “You could read that. Maybe you can find a clue in there that tells where Booth hid your friend’s gold.”

  “What is it?”

  “Booth kept a journal. I’ve read it, but it doesn’t tell any secrets.”

  Jake grimaced. It was better than doing nothing. Jake read through the day, looking for some clue, some hint where Booth Calhoun might have put the gold he had stolen from Sam. According to the journal, Booth had little to show for his life of crime. What Jake found in the journal were drawings of astonishing beauty.

  Of Anabeth. Of the valley. Of Sierra Starr. It gave him an entirely different picture of the outlaw who was Anabeth’s uncle. And explained in part why she wasn’t the hardened outlaw she might have been.

  While Jake was reading, Anabeth went out to walk the length of the valley by herself. What was Wolf doing now? she wondered. What would he do if he came to the valley and found Jake here? What words could she use to convince him that Claire must be returned to her home?

  Anabeth was gone most of the afternoon. When she returned to the house, she found Jake outside. He had picketed the buckskin gelding where it could crop grass while he brushed i
ts coat to a glossy gold.

  Anabeth found a comfortable spot in the grass and sat down cross-legged to watch him work. “Did you find out anything from Booth’s journal?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “Go on a treasure hunt, I suppose.”

  Anabeth pulled some clover and sucked on the sweet juices at the end of the stem. “That sounds like it could take a while.”

  “However long it takes, I’m going to find that gold.”

  Anabeth twirled the stem between her fingers. “What about Claire?”

  Jake’s lips flattened. “Wolf will be coming here—for you. When he does, I’ll be waiting for him.”

  “Jake—”

  “Don’t waste your time worrying, Kid. You be thinking about whether Booth ever said anything that might give a clue to the whereabouts of that gold.”

  It seemed urgent now to help Jake find the gold and get him out of the valley before Wolf returned. Perhaps it was time to reveal the words Booth had whispered as he lay dying. Maybe Jake would understand them. “Booth did say something about the gold before he died.”

  Jake’s hand paused in mid-stroke. “What?”

  “Just two words.”

  Jake dropped the brush and marched over to sink down on one knee beside her. “What two words?”

  “I would have told you before, except they didn’t make any sense to me, so I didn’t see how it could make—”

  Jake put his fingertips on her lips to quiet her nervous chatter. “Just tell me what he said.”

  “Back door.”

  “That’s all? Just back door?”

  Anabeth shrugged. “See what I mean? It doesn’t make sense. There isn’t a back door to the house, only a front door and a side door that leads to the cave. I can’t imagine what he was referring to if it wasn’t the house.”

  “What about a back way into the valley? Does such a trail exist?”

  Anabeth lowered her eyes so Jake couldn’t see them when she lied. “Not that I know of.”

  “What about that cave behind the house?” Jake asked. “How far does it go? Does it have a back way out?”

  Anabeth’s brow furrowed. “It’s only as deep as it looks. We can look at it together, if you like.”

  “We? Does that mean you plan to help me search for the gold?” Jake asked.

  “The sooner you find what you’re looking for, the sooner this will all be over.”

  Jake felt a rush of irritation. “Then what, Kid? You have your Apache friend bushwhack me?”

  “I’m not going to march willingly to the gallows, if that’s what you’re asking!” Anabeth retorted.

  The argument might have become more heated, but it was interrupted suddenly by the sound of falling rock at the entrance to the valley.

  Someone in the tunnel had tripped a booby trap.

  Wat would never have found the entrance to the valley if it hadn’t been for the dog. He and the Mexican and Snake had been up and down the length of the stone wall without finding anything remotely resembling an entrance to any secret hideout.

  Just as they were riding away, a huge black dog had showed up. It had simply disappeared into the rock as though it were walking through the wall. Wat had rubbed his eyes and looked again, but the dog had disappeared.

  “Let’s get back down there,” he said to the other two men.

  “No, señor,” the Mexican said. “I do not go down there.”

  “You go down there, or you don’t get your share of the gold.”

  “A dead man cannot spend gold, señor.”

  “Suit yourself,” Wat said. “Let’s go. Snake.”

  The two outlaws rode down to the spot where the dog had disappeared. Even knowing that the opening was there, it was still difficult to find. Neither man was happy when they saw how dark and narrow the tunnel was that led inside.

  “You go first,” Wat said to the other man.

  “Why don’t you go first?”

  “I’m boss here. I give the orders,” Wat said.

  Snake hesitated for a moment. Then, because he was afraid to say no, he did as he was told. He was careful. He moved slowly. He looked for the trap that he was sure was there. When he found it—a loaded gun on a trip wire—he dismantled it, then remounted and headed farther into the tunnel, confident that he could handle whatever he encountered.

  Wat followed behind the other outlaw, keeping well back in case he should have to make a run for it. He heard Snake’s cry of distress and then the cacophonous rumble of rock falling. He looked around at the walls and ceiling of the tunnel. Would the landslide ahead cause these walls to cave in and bury him?

  Wat panicked. He couldn’t turn his horse in the space he had, but he frantically backed the animal out of the cavelike tunnel. The animal was spraying stone with its hooves by the time Wat finally felt sunshine on his back again.

  He was trembling and looked around to make sure there was no one around to see how scared he was. He used his bandanna to wipe the sweat from his face, then dismounted and stepped up to the tunnel opening.

  “Snake!” He waited for an answer and called again. “Snake!” There was no answer, only the eerie echo of his voice coming back to him again. It was plain no one was getting into Booth’s hideout this way. But that meant no one was getting out this way, either.

  Solano heard the shouting and rode down to join Wat. “Where is Snake, señor?”

  “It was a trap,” Wat said. “Snake’s dead.” He gestured toward the rock wall. “Can you find another way to get inside there?”

  The Mexican looked up at the towering cliffs. “Perhaps there is another way inside. But to climb this wall—it would be a difficult thing.”

  “Find me a way in,” Wat said. “You do, and half the gold is yours.”

  “If the gold is there,” the Mexican said quietly.

  “It’s there,” Wat said. “Where else could it be? That girl is in there, too. You can bet on it. Once we get into that valley she’ll tell us where the gold is, all right. I’m good at persuading people to tell me what I want to know.”

  Solano didn’t doubt it. He would do his part and find a way into the valley. And leave it to the other man to take care of the girl. He was an old man. It would be nice to take his share of the gold and go back to Mexico.

  If Rankin let him live.

  The Mexican had no illusions about the true nature of the fiend who had arranged for the Calhoun Gang to brutally murder the man who had been their leader for many years. Look what had come of it. Of the six outlaws who had ridden in Booth’s gang before Wat Rankin showed up, he was the only one left. He didn’t trust Rankin, but he figured he was safe until they found the gold.

  Once that happened, he would have to watch his back.

  When Jake saw Dog crossing the floor of the valley he let go with a string of profanity. Dog must have shown the outlaws the entrance to the valley. “Apparently one of the outlaws tripped the booby trap at the end of the tunnel,” he said.

  “Do you think any of them got through?” Anabeth asked.

  “Whether they got in this time or not, now they know for sure where the valley is.” It was only a matter of time before they found a way inside. Which meant that he was racing against time to find the gold and get himself and the Kid out of here.

  “There’s Dog. He must have sniffed out the entrance to the valley!” Anabeth headed for the animal on the run.

  “Don’t touch him,” Jake warned. “You go near him, and he’ll take your hand off.”

  “He doesn’t look vicious to me,” Anabeth said. But she slowed her approach to the huge dog.

  “Looks can be deceiving. You stay here. I’m going to see who found his way into the tunnel.” And whether he had come out alive on the other side.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Look, Kid—”

  “I know more about this place than you do, Jake. I can help.”

  He stopped arguin
g with her and headed for the tunnel on the run. He stopped where he still had cover and checked to see if anything had been visibly disturbed around the entrance to the valley. There were stones blocking the entrance to the tunnel.

  “It looks like we’re not going back out that way,” Jake said.

  Anabeth was hanging over Jake’s shoulder. “Do you see anyone?”

  “No. But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t hidden nearby. You wait here, and I’ll go take a look.”

  Jake might as well have been talking to a wall. Anabeth didn’t stay put two seconds before she was right behind him again.

  “Look, Kid. When I told you to stay put, it was for your own good. What if someone’s down there with a gun?”

  “You can be shot just as easily as I can.” She stared at his wounded leg. “More easily,” she said with an arched brow.

  Jake gritted his teeth and kept on walking—make that limping—toward the valley entrance.

  The gruesome sight they found made it clear no one had gotten out alive. A hand extended out of the stone—nothing more.

  Anabeth pointed to a ring on one of the exposed fingers. “I recognize that ring. Snake wore it.” Another of her uncle’s murderers was dead. “It seems fitting somehow that he ended up buried like this.”

  “How so?” Jake asked.

  “Because snakes are always hiding under a rock.” Anabeth picked up a flat stone and finished the job of burying Snake’s exposed hand. “Rankin knows we’re here now, doesn’t he?” she asked.

  Jake looked sharply at Anabeth. “Yes. Unless he got caught in the slide, too.”

  “The slide wasn’t rigged to catch more than one man,” Anabeth said.

  “Then he’ll be looking for another way to get into the valley. Will he find it?”

  “It’s there,” Anabeth admitted in a quiet voice.

  “Will you show me where it is?”

  “So you can stick me in jail and come back here to look for the gold on your own? No, Jake, I’m not that crazy. You’re welcome to try finding it for yourself.”

  Jake grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

  “This is my home. It’s where my father and my uncle are buried. It’s where I’m going to stay.”