“You know, but fine, go on. You’ll waste away to nothing before he rides back. He doesn’t love you, Maggie. That man loves no one but himself.”
He muttered something else, but Maggie doubted she’d understand it even if the words had been clearer. It was in the language of his mother’s people. She turned away from him and walked up to the house. What had gotten in to him? Whatever it was, she wasn’t so sure she liked it.
She wasn’t ready to give up hope Thomas would keep his promise. No matter what anyone else said.
Chapter 11
Latham, Wyoming Territory
November 2, 1887
It took William nearly two days to reach Rawlins. He made it to South Pass, the easiest way through the Sweetwater Mountains without going all the way around to where the North Platte River cut through. Nobody had seen Thomas in a week.
He went west from there, following the railroad tracks. Every town William stopped in, someone had seen Thomas. Some had good things to say about Thomas. Others stated he’d stolen something from them. Even a horse in one of the small towns along the way. The rest wouldn’t say a word to him.
He’d been on the trail for nearly two weeks and had started to give up hope he’d ever find his brother. Every town William came to, there was less time between them.
He pushed on.
He rode into the town of Latham after passing through the mountains. It wasn’t a large town, but the railroad towns had plenty of saloons and houses of pleasure to cater to the rougher elements. William had never been much of a drinker, but the saloon was the best place to listen for news. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep up the pretense of drinking while listening for information, so he hoped it wouldn’t take long.
He stepped into the saloon and let his gaze scan the room before he headed over to the bar. In that quick glance, he had taken in who sat at each of the tables. William leaned against the bar and signaled the bartender.
When the other man approached he ordered a beer and put his coins on the bar top. He turned to face the room while he waited for it. Looking out at the other patrons didn’t give him any more information. He didn’t know any of them. Didn’t know if any of them were friends with Thomas, or even friendly with him. He didn’t even know who would be the best to approach for information.
The bartender slid the beer across the bar to him. William caught it but held a hand out to stop the bartender from leaving. “I’m looking for someone,” he said.
“There’s lots of someones here. Why don’t you go pick one of them?”
“Not one of them. I’m looking for someone particular.” William glanced behind him. If he wanted to learn anything, he would have to take a risk. He turned back to the bartender.
“His name’s Thomas Jensen.”
William knew in an instant the bartender wasn’t the only one who heard him say the name. A hush fell over the room. Conversation picked up again, but he still felt the tension. Like everyone listened to his conversation now. He kept his attention on the bartender and suspicion flared in the man’s eyes. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Had he made a mistake?
If this bartender was a friend of his brother’s, he was sure he was in trouble. Most bartenders kept a gun under the bar in case of needing to break up a fight. He didn’t want to be on the business end of that gun.
The man just said, “What are you wantin’ with him? Get yerself killed?”
“That’s not any of your business. I want to know where he might be.”
“I can’t tell ya that. Because I don’t know. I don’t keep track of the man’s comings and goings. You’ll have to find someone else to ask.”
William had turned away from the bar when the bartender reached out and grasped his arm. “Be careful who you go asking. You look like a nice boy. Tommy isn’t. Be careful of his friends. Is it really worth finding him?”
William weighed his answer for a moment. He remembered the way David wasted away. How Anna looked in that casket. No one else should have to go through that. “Yes, it is.”
“Your best place to start would be those men back in the corner.” He motioned back to where a group of men sat. “They’re friends with him. Be careful. Whatever you want him for, I’m sure it’s not worth your life.”
William wanted to tell him it was. Making sure Thomas paid for his crimes was worth anything he had to give. He took his beer and headed toward the corner table. He didn’t approach them. Instead he slid into a chair a couple tables away from them. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious with his eavesdropping. Even then, he couldn’t pick up much of what they said with their voices pitched low. Still, he caught a few words and phrases out of it.
“Headed south.”
“Said to watch.”
“Been a while. Not coming.”
“Brother.”
The last one made William think he didn’t need to listen to any more to confirm his suspicions. They knew where Thomas was or at least had an idea where he had headed. He took another swallow of his beer. He didn’t want to seem to anxious to leave after listening in on their conversation. As he went to take another sip of it, one of the men from the table left. A shiver went down his spine. This man had been speaking while he listened in. He needed to find out what he knew about his brother.
He tried to act casual about it, but he set his beer down and stood from the table. He left the saloon minutes after the other man, but he was no longer in sight. William’s mind raced. It started to feel like he’d walked into a trap. He had to be careful not to walk right into it.
Instead of trying to figure out which way the man had gone, William walked to his horse. He acted as if he adjusted the saddle, but paid attention to the edges of his field of vision. The moment the man stepped to the corner of the saloon, one of the other men stepped through the doorway.
William pulled the rifle from its scabbard on the saddle, but kept it between him and the horse. If they moved on, he didn’t want to shoot at them. Honestly, he didn’t want to shoot anyone at all. He only wanted information. He wasn’t so sure he would get it so easily from them.
They didn’t move on. He caught a glimpse of the one man’s face from the corner of his eye. They focused in on him. He had his confirmation, and he wouldn’t hide behind his horse anymore.
He stepped around the animal, levering a bullet into the chamber as he moved. “You two want to talk to me now, I see. No more whispering.”
“You were listening,” the man who left first said. “What do you want with Tommy after all this time? Why can’t you leave him alone?”
The first question didn’t surprise him, but the second did. What had he ever done to his brother? It was always the other way around. Of course that wouldn’t be the way Thomas would present it to his friends. “He’s the one who killed my wife. He burned my ranch to the ground. He shot my son in the back. He needs to pay for all of that.”
“Tommy wouldn’t do any of that,” the other man said. “You’re mistaken.”
“No, I’m not. He’s not the person you think he is. I just want to know where he is.”
“So you can go and kill him? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t want to kill him. I want to bring him in so he can pay for what he’s done.”
“How is that any better? He’ll still end up dead.”
William brought his rifle up before either of them could think to raise their pistols. “I don’t want to hurt either of you, but I will find out where he is.”
The two men looked at each other but didn’t glance back at him. It might be one against two, but an aimed and primed rifle at this distance could easily take at least one, if not both, of them out. The man who had kept quiet cracked first.
“He headed south. A couple days ago. Probably in Baggs by now. He’s got a girl over into Colorado somewhere. Probably went to see her.”
“That’s all I wanted,” William said and backed up to his horse. He would have to turn his back
on these men, and William knew that would be a mistake. Still he backed around his horse so he could slip the rifle back into the scabbard. Up in the saddle, he looked back once at the men before leaning over the horse’s neck and kicking him into a gallop. He thought he’d hear a gun shot, but none came. He was sure he heard arguing, but then even that faded.
When he was away from town, he slowed his horse and turned him toward the south at a more moderate pace. He’d never been to Baggs, but he’d heard of it. North of Colorado on the Little Snake River. He glanced up toward the sinking sun. He’d never make it tonight even if he pushed his horse. The horse could use a rest anyway. He’d start south before making camp for the night. He wanted to catch Thomas but not at the expense of his horse.
“We’ll find him, boy. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
#
Four Mile Creek, Colorado
November 7, 1887
Thomas wasn’t in Baggs either. At least not anymore. No one would even tell William if they had seen him. It made him think Thomas’ friends lied to him. Until the clerk at the mercantile told him he’d seen a man who looked like him ride out the day before. That man hadn’t been around long, and after he’d ridden through, some of the residents had come up with possessions missing.
Sounded like Thomas.
He was tired. He’d been sleeping on the trail instead of staying in any of the towns he came to. Even when he laid down, he didn’t sleep. It wasn’t being on the ground. He’d done that plenty of times before without issue. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Anna again. Sometimes the way she had been before. Other times he saw the way she looked in that casket. Other times his brain tricked him and he saw her in ways he’d never seen her: bruised, bloody, and broken. Or David. He stood there, doing nothing, while his son faded away. He felt like he’d been buried by the guilt whenever he woke.
Easier to stay awake.
He left Baggs, heading east to Dixon, but no one there would admit to seeing Thomas. Leaving there, he headed southwest, crossing into Colorado. There hadn’t been much for towns between. A few cabins and a saloon thrown together didn’t exactly equal a town. Everything was open down here. He almost felt like a moving target.
He doused his campfire and saddled up his horse, ready to be on his way again. It started snowing the night before, and as he rode his horse out of the copse of trees he’d camped out in, the wind picked up, blowing some of those flakes into his face. He flipped the collar of his coat up and tried to sink deeper into its warmth. He needed to ride alert. He breathed a sigh of relief when the edge of a town came into sight. He didn’t want to take time away from tracking Thomas, but he also didn’t want to get stuck in a snowstorm with no shelter.
He urged his horse into a trot, not slowing until he passed the sign announcing the town of Lay, Colorado.
The wind drove snow up into his face as he dismounted in front of a saloon. He brushed the snow away with a gloved hand before wrapping the reins around the hitching post. He wasn’t worried about anyone stealing his horse. He was the only one the beast ever let sit on his back. Still, it gave him an extra assurance the horse would still be there when he came back out.
When he stepped into the saloon, he had to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Once they had, he made his way over to the bar and waited for the man behind it to come to him. “What can I get ya?”
“I need some information,” William said as he leaned on the bar.
“We don’t deal in that here. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”
“I’m looking for someone. I just want to know if you’ve seen him around.”
The barkeep turned away and ran a rag across the top of the bar. “I don’t have any information for ya. If you don’t want nothing to drink, you need to get away from my bar.”
“Please, it’s my brother I’m looking for. I need to find him.”
The barkeep lifted his eyes, and his hand moved under the bar. “I said you need to be gettin’ on, fella. Don’t make me say it again.”
William lifted his hands from the bar and took a step back. A man at one of the tables slipped away and through a door at the back of the saloon. The sight of the bartender raising the sawed off shotgun above the bar distracted him from that. “I’m going,” he said and didn’t let anything else distract him between there and the door.
When he got outside, he took a deep breath before stepping from the boarded walk down into the street. He started down to the next saloon in town but stopped when a noise came from behind one of the buildings down from the one he had just left. At first it sounded like a scuffle, and he was about to go and try to break the fight up. As he approached, he heard an urgent “go” and the creak of saddle leather. He had an uneasy feeling Thomas had been so close. Someone had known who he was looking for and warned him before William could get any information. With a muttered curse, he turned and hurried back to his horse.
He unwrapped the reins and put one foot in the stirrup, swinging his other leg over the saddle. He turned his horse back the way he had come from then went between the buildings. He hadn’t wasted any time. Still, he barely saw the other rider in the distance. “Come on, boy. We’re so close. Let’s catch him.”
He spurred his horse into a gallop and watched as the distance between the other rider shortened. Even from this far back, he recognized the hat his brother had always worn.
Thomas glanced back over his shoulder at him then he wheeled his horse around. William didn’t have much time to react. He yanked the reins to stop his horse, the sudden move unbalancing him in the saddle. As he slid to the ground, he grabbed the rifle from the scabbard and brought it to his shoulder. Thomas already had two pistols aimed at him.
“Turn around right now, brother,” Thomas shouted at him. “You won’t be taking me in. Go home.”
“I can’t go home. You took that away from me.” He took a step away from his horse, lifting the rifle to his shoulder. “You killed Anna, killed my son, your own nephew. You have to pay for that.”
“She should have gone with me. If she wouldn’t have fought me, she’d still be alive.”
“She was never yours to have in the first place,” William shouted. Wetness burned his eyes and blurred his vision. “I am taking you in, so put your guns down and come with me.”
Thomas laughed, and the sound sent a cold shiver down William’s back. “You’re not going to shoot me, brother. Put that long gun back and ride on out of here. You don’t want to kill me. Not nearly as much as I’d like to kill you.”
“Then, why don’t you do it?”
“You haven’t suffered nearly enough yet. When I do kill you, it will be a mercy. You’ll get what you have coming, brother. If you turn around right now, it won’t be today.”
The words knotted his stomach. How had he not suffered enough? He’d had to bury his wife. He’d watched his son die slowly, day by day. Thomas was right, he didn’t want to kill him. A part of him did want him dead but not by his hand. Not if he could help it.
Still, he needed to take him in. He didn’t lower the rifle as he took another step toward Thomas. “I don’t want to kill you. I don’t want to hurt you as you’ve done to me, but you are going to come with me.”
His brother’s face twist into a sneer. “You hurt me long ago when you caused everything to be taken from me.”
His brother’s shouted words took him back a step. What was he even talking about? William had never done anything to hurt him. It had always been the other way around. “I never did any of that,” he said, but the wind snapped his words away. “I’m taking you in.” Before he could say anything else, or even lever a bullet into the chamber of the rifle, a flash came from the barrel of one of his brother’s gun.
He felt the impact of the bullet in his chest then a second lower in his side before the report of the first shot faded. His body hit the ground, his face down in the snow. He rolled over and pain sliced through his body. He groaned as snow fell on
to his face, then the beat of hooves disappeared in the distance. Thomas was getting away, and he wasn’t sure he could move as his blood soaked into the snow under him.
William gathered all the strength he could and rolled his body again, coming up to his knees this time. He almost collapsed again, but forced himself to stay up as he whistled for his horse. The horse took a few careful steps toward him, and William reached out for the stirrup, almost falling on his face when he missed the first time. He grabbed onto it the second time and pulled himself up. It took him a little longer to climb into the saddle. He needed to find someone who could take care of these wounds. It obviously wasn’t safe for him here. He turned his horse toward the trail leading away from town.
The horse walked at a quick pace, eager to put the scent of gun smoke and blood behind it. It soon slowed with no urging from William. He barely clung to the saddle as the horse moved down the path. As the blood ran down his chest and side, his strength waned. He slumped over the horse’s neck.
As if he sensed something wrong, the animal stopped in the middle of the trail. William slid from the saddle, his body hitting the ground. He barely even felt it. Just as he barely felt the horse sniffing at him and snorting uneasily at the smell of blood on him. Everything dropped away and left him in darkness.
Chapter 12
Lay, Colorado
November 7, 1887
The gunshots stopped George Barnes with a bag of supplies halfway to the bed of his wagon. They came from a good way from town, but the sound still sent apprehension shivering down his spine. Not for the first time, he wished there was a town closer to his ranch to stock up on these supplies. Too many unsavory characters flocked to this town lately. Unless he wanted to stay days away from his ranch and Maggie, he would have to deal with it. So far, he hadn’t been messed with. He kept to himself for that reason.
He finished loading the supplies then climbed onto the seat and picked up the reins. He clucked to the horses and turned them away from town. Maggie could deal with the ranch while he was gone. There wasn’t much to do on it now anyway. Just taking care of the horses and things around the house. She could deal with it for the day or two he was always gone on these trips to town. That didn’t mean he liked leaving her alone there for so long.
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