Desert Moon

by Susan Page Davis

  “Thank you.”

  “Won’t you come in?” The woman stood back.

  “Mama,” the little girl said.

  “Hush, Dorcas. I’ll tend to that later. We have a guest.”

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Julia said. “I just wondered if you or the reverend had seen Oliver today. I came in on the stagecoach this morning, and—”

  “On the stage? My goodness!” The woman’s face took on new sympathy. “I heard about the robbery. Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. But my brother didn’t meet the stage, and he’s not at the house or the mine, so I’ve been asking around….” Julia’s hopes dissipated as she spoke. Why would Oliver have come here? “I’m sorry. I’ll be going.”

  Before she made it to the door, it opened and a short, stocky man entered. His dark hair was sprinkled with gray, and he wore a plain black suit. No doubt the minister.

  “Hello,” he said, eyeing Julia curiously.

  “This is Miss Newman,” the woman said. “Oliver’s sister. Miss Newman, this is the Reverend Mr. Kepler, my husband.” She spoke the words as though invoking respect and reverence.

  “Ah yes, delighted.” The minister shook Julia’s hand.

  “How do you do,” Julia said. “I only dropped in to see if either of you had seen my brother today. I just returned to town, and I’ve yet to talk to Oliver.”

  “No, can’t say as I have,” Mr. Kepler replied. “In fact, I haven’t seen him for several weeks.”

  “Oh?” Julia found that odd, but decided to keep her own counsel.

  Mrs. Kepler, however, was more forthright. “Yes, Oliver hasn’t been to services for several Sundays.”

  “Quite irregular lately,” her husband said. “I’m sorry that we can’t help you. I must say your mother’s funeral went well.”

  “Oh yes,” Mrs. Kepler said quickly. “In very good taste. A great many people turned out. I believe your mother was well thought of in these parts.”

  “Thank you,” Julia said. “I wish I could have been here.”

  “Of course you couldn’t have reached home in time,” the minister said.

  “No. And since I was teaching school and we were near the end of the term, it seemed reasonable for me to finish it out.” Julia felt tears coming on. Why must she justify her absence from her mother’s funeral? “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go home and lie down.”

  She rode home, ignoring the people she passed. As she entered the house a few minutes later, her mind raced. This was nonsense! How could the people have known them so long and suspect as nice a young man as Oliver of being a criminal? She felt as though all her strength had melted like bacon grease in a hot spider and drained out of her.

  This was Adam’s fault. He was the one who had made a point of Oliver’s absence, and now everyone in town suspected him. She wasn’t sure she could forgive Adam for that. She thought she’d forgiven him for smashing her heart into little tiny pieces, but now she wasn’t sure. The shards had pricked deeply each time she’d seen Adam today.

  She walked over to the desk in the front room. Her mother had always kept important papers here, but she didn’t find much. A few envelopes, a pen, a few pen wipes, and a nearly empty bottle of ink. Oliver must keep most of his writing supplies at his desk in the mine.

  She went upstairs, pulling her hat off. If she were wise, she’d return the dun to the livery and take that nap. On the landing she paused and then turned resolutely toward Oliver’s room.

  He still kept it neat, as always. His bed was made, with one of Mama’s pieced quilts on top. His dresser was bare except for his razor, shaving mug, and soap. Feeling slightly guilty, she opened the top drawer. It was half full of the things she’d expected—socks, underdrawers, handkerchiefs. She was about to close it when on impulse she shifted the stack of neatly folded handkerchiefs to one side. She smiled. Beneath them was a small pasteboard folder.

  She took it out and opened the bankbook. Oliver had been making regular deposits to his account at the bank in Flagstaff. It appeared that he put a portion of his pay each month into his savings. The balance was $174.36. A nice nest egg for a young man.

  Oliver did not need to rob stagecoaches.

  She tucked the bankbook into her pocket and headed for the stairs, determined to find Adam and talk him out of this insanity.

  Chapter 5

  The sun lay on the west side of the mountains now, and long shadows met to form pools of darkness over the hillside where Adam and his men searched for clues to the robbery.

  “We ought to turn back, Sheriff,” Sam Dennis called to him from a bluff above him.

  “Not yet.”

  Rancher Andy Black rode up beside him. “We lost the tracks an hour ago, and this country’s too rough. There’s no use hunting for them in the dark.”

  Adam exhaled heavily. Andy was probably right—and he probably wanted to get home to his family. “Gather the men and let’s hash over what we’ve got.”

  Later, in the twilight, the seven other men circled about him.

  “I’m going to stay up here,” Adam told them. “I’ll try to pick up the tracks in the morning.”

  Bob Tanner shook his head. “No disrespect, Sheriff, but I don’t think you’ll find ’em again in these hills. That fella’s long gone.”

  “That’s right,” Andy said. “He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew Bub Hilliard was a crack shot, too.”

  Sam pushed his hat back. “I tend to agree, Adam. This man knew what he was up against.”

  Adam clenched his teeth. What they were saying supported the possibility that Oliver Newman was behind the holdup. Whoever had carried out the robbery knew the stage schedule and the best place to stop the stagecoach. He didn’t let his face or his horse be seen, and he knew where to hide.

  “He didn’t act like most bandits,” said one of the mine’s foremen.

  “That’s right,” Sam said. “He went out there on foot and left his horse in the trees.”

  “Yeah, and he didn’t confront the passengers,” Andy said. “I was on a stage once when it was robbed. That bandit made us all get out and empty our pockets. I lost over fifty bucks that day.”

  Of all their points, that one bothered Adam most. Why hadn’t the road agent wanted the passengers to see him? Was he afraid someone inside would recognize him? If this blackguard was someone local, it only made Adam more determined to ride down the thief.

  “You all go on back to town,” he said.

  “What, you’re really staying out here?” Andy asked.

  Sam eyed him carefully. “What do you think you’ll find?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Adam sat on Socks’s back until they were all around the bluff and headed back to the trail. He rode his horse down to the creek and dismounted. He let Socks drink his fill and then hobbled him. Enough grass and low brush grew along the creek bank for his horse to graze on. Adam gathered some wood and spread out his bedroll. He pulled a packet of crackers and a can of sardines from his saddlebag. It was full dark before he had a fire going. He sat beside it for an hour, feeding sticks in.

  Finally he decided to quit wasting fuel and save enough wood to heat coffee in the morning. Lying back with his head on his saddle, he gazed up at the brilliant sky.

  He tried to think about the proposal he’d gotten from the territorial officials. Two men from Flagstaff had approached him before his trip to Phoenix. They’d asked him to meet in the capital with some of the men who were revising the Arizona constitution.

  “We need men who don’t have their minds made up on some of the issues,” one of the Phoenix politicians had told him. That meant they wanted men who would take their side. Their suggestion that he run for a seat in the new state legislature was flattering. He’d even flirted with the idea that a girl like Julia might not mind being married to a legislator.

  They’d shown him around, and Adam was impressed with the preparations they were making for statehood. But
he didn’t want to be in the middle of it. As exciting as it sounded to become a statesman, he didn’t want to sit in a stuffy room all day, hammering out bills and arguing with people he didn’t like. The Lord had put him out here in the willywacks, as his grandpa Scott would have said, and this was where he belonged.

  But he had to be able to do this job right.

  “God, you’ve got to help me. I need to find this robber. He’s killed a good man, Lord. I don’t want it to be Ollie, but if it is, give me the strength to bring him in.”

  He remembered how Julia’s eyes had flashed when she realized her brother was his top suspect. She was so beautiful, but so far out of his reach now. Adam’s chest ached. Part of him still mourned her leaving. If he was honest, that same part of him rejoiced now that she was back. But he couldn’t trust that she’d stay.

  He gave a bitter laugh. He couldn’t even trust her not to abet a robber and murderer, let alone allow him to court her again.

  Julia heard horses coming. Why had she headed out here alone with darkness coming? She urged her mount off the trail and into the pines.

  “Quiet now.” She stroked his withers and prayed he wouldn’t whinny when the other horses passed.

  The men of the posse rode past her, toward the road that led back to town. She looked for Adam among the riders. Even in the moonlight, she’d have recognized him, but he wasn’t there. He must still be out in the mountains, looking for the robber.

  When they had passed and she could no longer hear their horses’ hoofbeats, she emerged from cover and rode on. She’d found their trail near the robbery site, shortly before sunset. It had been easy to follow at first—that many horses had made a plain path through the brush. They’d split up once they got out on the rough mountainsides, but she’d followed the clearest track and the general direction of the searchers. She ought to have turned back, but she needed to see Adam, to convince him that the man he was trying to trap wasn’t Oliver.

  The dark mountains huddled over her. Something moved in the bushes, and her horse snorted. She urged him on. The wind made the tree limbs whisper. Night birds called, and the darkness deepened. Her regrets grew stronger, but it was too late to turn back. She must be getting close.

  Ten minutes later, she pulled the dun in and sat listening. Maybe Adam was with the men and she’d missed him. Or maybe he’d gone back to town a different way. She’d been foolish not to wait in Ardell. She could have confronted him when he returned. Maybe Oliver was home now, wondering where she’d gone and worrying about her. She ought to go back.

  She decided to go on to the top of the ridge before her. By the time she topped it, she’d nearly persuaded herself to give up the search. She peered down the slope beyond and caught her breath. A faint glow showed in the ravine below. She rode slowly toward it. Smoke drifted in the air. When she got closer, she saw a campfire burning in a hollow among the rocks, and she heard the faint trickle of running water, but she couldn’t see anyone near the blaze. She stopped her horse and watched the camp spot. What if it wasn’t Adam’s camp? What if someone else was out here? She hadn’t given a thought to the possibility that she might stumble into the real outlaw’s camp.

  A slight noise behind her made her stiffen and gather the reins.

  “Stay right there and put your hands up, mister.”

  Adam’s pulse tripped as he eased out of the shadow of the trees and approached the horseman. Someone had followed him out here into the mountains. It couldn’t be one of his men returning. Any one of them would have called out to him as he approached the camp.

  Adam had heard the horse when it was still a quarter mile away. Whoever this fellow was, he wasn’t trail savvy.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  The rider started to lower his hands.

  Adam cocked his pistol. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. State your business.”

  “It’s me, Adam. I came to talk to you about Oliver.”

  Adam exhaled. Relief vied with chagrin.

  Julia.

  Before she rolled into town, he’d convinced himself he was starting to forget her, but she was making that mighty hard to do.

  He walked forward and up to the horse’s head. Julia still sat with her hands at shoulder height, letting the reins fall slack on the horse’s withers. The dun took advantage of that and lowered its head to browse.

  “Put your hands down, Julia.”

  “You said—”

  “I know what I said. You want to tell me what’s so all-fired important you had to risk your neck to come and tell me?”

  “It wasn’t Oliver. He didn’t do it.”

  “Seems like you said that before.”

  “But it’s true. Please, Adam, let me get down and show you something.”

  “Come on. You might as well have a cup of coffee. I’ll stir up the fire.”

  While he got the brew heating, Julia unbridled her horse and tied it near Socks. She didn’t remove the saddle. Adam was glad in a way—that meant she didn’t intend to stay long. On the other hand, he’d have to escort her back over the mountain to the road. It wouldn’t be right to let her go alone.

  When she came over to the fire, he let her sit on the log he’d used for a seat. “All right, have you got some evidence?”

  “Just this.” She held out a little booklet.

  Adam took it and held it up so he could read it by the firelight. “A bankbook?”

  “Yes. It’s Oliver’s. It’s proof that he didn’t need to rob anyone. He’s been putting away money every month, out of his pay.”

  Adam sat in silence, looking at the figures in the bankbook.

  “Well?” Julia said.

  He sighed and handed it back. “This proves nothing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said.” He reached for the coffeepot. It probably wasn’t quite as hot as he liked it, but he poured a tin cup half full. “Look, Julia, you have to understand. Ollie’s gone. His horse is gone. The payroll’s gone. What else am I supposed to think? Until I find something definite that says otherwise, I’ve got to assume Ollie’s involved in the robbery.”

  She stared at him with those huge blue eyes.

  “Take this.” He held out the cup. “Tell me if it’s fit to drink.”

  Julia straightened her shoulders. “No, thank you.”

  “Come on, Julia. You’ve got a hard ride ahead of you. At least have some coffee.”

  She relented and took the cup. After one sip she grimaced. “It’s not ready.”

  “Sorry.” Adam picked up one of the few remaining sticks and poked it into the fire beneath the coffeepot. He’d have to gather more wood in the morning.

  He wanted to scold her, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. She was already here—as if he didn’t have enough to worry about.

  “You’ve got to stop tracking Ollie,” she said.

  He frowned at her. “Are you saying the tracks we followed away from the holdup site belong to Oliver’s horse?”

  “No. I’m not saying that at all.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  She plunked the cup down so hard the lukewarm coffee sloshed on the ground. “I’m saying you need to trust your best friend. Has something happened between you and Oliver that I don’t know about?”

  “No, nothing’s happened.”

  She stood, gathered her skirts, and stepped over the log. “Then all I can say is, you have a funny way of treating your friends.”

  Adam stood and watched in astonishment as she marched to where she’d left her bridle and picked it up.

  “What do you think I should be doing?”

  She whirled and scowled at him. “My brother could be hurt. He may have had an accident, or that robber may have injured him. But all you can think about is putting Oliver in jail.”

  She marched away. Adam followed her slowly. “Julia, think about it. I’m searching for the robber. If that search takes me to Oliver, so be it. And if he’s hu
rt and needs help, maybe I’ll find him while I’m looking for this bandit. You should be glad that I’m out here.”

  A strangled noise came from Julia as she jerked her horse’s head up. He hated making her feel this way. Or was she putting it on—hoping to distract him so that Ollie could get clean away while she cried on Adam’s shoulder? He steeled himself.

  The bit bumped the dun’s teeth as Julia pulled the bridle on. She cringed, but the horse opened his teeth and took the bit. She pulled his ears through the crown and buckled the strap under his throat. She couldn’t get away from Adam fast enough.

  She’d loved this man and dreamed of a future with him. But Adam knew how she felt. He’d all but promised he would leave the Arizona Rangers. Though she considered herself a strong woman, she couldn’t abide the thought of losing another man she loved in the line of duty. Adam knew she fretted for him when the Rangers went into a dangerous situation. He’d promised to think it over, and to pray about her request. When he proposed, she’d turned him down. At least she’d told him she couldn’t marry him as long as he wore the badge.

  Then word came that the Rangers were disbanding. Adam was disappointed about the turn of events, but Julia had rejoiced. She’d hoped he would settle down to ranching and propose to her again. Instead, he took the job of deputy sheriff. That was the last straw for Julia—it felt as if he were shouting at her, “This is who I am. I will never do what you want. I will never be the man you want me to be.”

  That’s when she’d accepted the teaching position in Philadelphia—because she couldn’t stay in Ardell and watch Adam make himself a target every time a drunk decided to shoot up a saloon.

  Her family members had supported her decision, although they loved Adam, too. Of all people, Mama and Oliver knew why she felt as strongly as she did. Only five years ago, her father had been killed while on duty as a deputy sheriff. They didn’t insist that she listen to Adam’s pleading. They knew the pain that could lead to. Her mother had approved of her decision to go away—for a while, anyway. “Put some distance between you,” she’d said. “If Adam is the man for you, something will change.”