by Julie Weston
Peter Banks sat at the dining room table and wrote out a long letter to the sheriff. “Here it is. And here is the note.” It had been stuffed in his pocket and was crumpled.
“What does it say?” Goldie asked.
“It says something about here’s a baby. Take care of it.”
Goldie took the note. The writing was loopy and disheveled, the same as the note. Goldie could barely make out the words. She read them aloud. “Take care of this little child. God says ‘come unto me, you little children,’ and so I am leaving her at this church.” It was unsigned, of course.
“Humph. Well, I never.” Esther left the room and went upstairs. The boys were outside, playing in the side yard, which was mostly dirt. They had raked up a stack of leaves and were jumping in it and shouting.
Goldie swaddled the baby. She had no clothes for her and wasn’t sure where to find any. She wished Nellie would return but now didn’t expect her until the next day. The baby nuzzled at her chest. “Nothin’ there, little one. I’ll feed you some more milk. Hope I hear back soon from Hailey.”
CHAPTER 11
Sheriff Azgo spent time over the body outside in the light. He motioned to Nell to take photographs. The woman’s face was scraped from her fall down the ice cave. The sheriff moved the clothes from her neck where red scratches marred it. Either Nell was getting used to the grisly details, or her experience in the ice herself had hardened her. She noticed a fragile chain had broken, maybe losing a pendant in the woman’s clothes.
After the sheriff tucked the clothing back around the neck, he shifted his attention to the long, black skirt. “Help me with this. I want to see if there are any other wounds. I do not think her neck was scratched or her face marred when we first found her.”
Nell was reluctant to touch the body’s clothes, but she pulled up the skirt as the sheriff lifted the torso. “Oh! There’s . . .” She held her hands up. They were covered in a light sheen of red. “It must be blood. Dried blood that the ice—” Nell drew away and then wiped her hands on her pants. “I can’t.”
“Never mind. We will bundle her up and send her to Hailey. The doctor there can find out where the blood came from.” He laid her gently down again. “We will continue our search. We know there is one more person to find.”
Nell released her camera from the tripod and put it away. Then the sheriff helped Max and Trapper and Tom load the body onto the stretcher, tied it around with a rope, and sent all three off to the road. He didn’t ask Tom to come back as Rosy said he could help them find the tree molds and then find their way back to the road. Tom would meet them there in the afternoon and take the horse back to Arco. In the meantime, the sheriff, Nellie, and Rosy would use it to carry gear. Tom described where a water hole could be found near the Big Sink. Whether there was water in it, he didn’t know. “Bein’ it’s fall, there might not be any. Still, the caves had ice.”
“Let’s get to the Big Sink and set up camp,” Rosy said. “Then we can figger out about water. We got canteens for now.” He helped load the horse and took its lead. “Good thing I don’t have to carry moonshine on this trip.”
Nellie was surprised at how much cheerier Rosy was without his once ever-present jar of hooch. She almost missed his contrariness and his honesty. Now, he seemed more like most people. He and Charlie were nigh onto friendly. And she sounded like a Westerner even in her thoughts. “Do those clouds worry anyone?”
“I have been watching them. We may get rain tonight, but that would be unusual. The tent is big enough for all three of us to lay out blankets and sleeping bags. The ground will be harder than it will be wet.”
“Mite cozy, don’t you think?” The horse was having some difficulty traveling. Even Moonshine appeared to be high-stepping over the rocky ground and all its clinkers where they traveled. “You two keep on straight.” He pointed to the west. “See that steep hill with the rocky top, like two points? Keep headin’ in that direction. You’ll know the Big Sink when you get there.” Rosy pulled the horse and called for Moonshine to follow him. Moonie looked at Nell. “Go on with Rosy. He’ll find a better place for your paws.” The small leather booties were wearing through.
The sheriff kept up a good pace, and Nellie found herself falling back. She still had her camera on her back. So far, there were not many places where a photograph would reflect the grotesque surface. Still, the clouds blossomed higher, and several had flat gray bottoms. She decided to set up her camera and see what she could see on the back screen. “I’d like to stop and take a photograph, Charlie. You keep going. I think I can see you when I start up again.”
He sighed. “We do not have a lot of time to set up camp and prepare something to eat. I know you are tired, but the sooner we get to the Big Sink, the sooner you can rest. You can take photographs there.”
“Then it might be too dark. Leave me your compass and point me where we are going. I’ll follow as soon as I take a photograph here. The best light is coming from around those clouds.” Even as she spoke, Nell glanced around, looking for a suitable spot for her tripod.
Another sigh. He pulled the compass from his pocket and handed it to Nellie, showing her how to sight on it and where she should keep the arrow in order to follow the same line he would be following. “Come no later than fifteen minutes from now.”
Nellie nodded, put the compass into her camera bag as she pulled out the camera, and set up the tripod. By the time she had her camera and black cloth ready to cover her head, the sheriff had already disappeared in the distance. She wished now she hadn’t been so stubborn about a photograph. The sky hung like a dark bell around her, and the deepening shadows seemed as if they muted all the sounds of even the quiet desert. There were no birds in sight, and not a lizard or a squirrel disturbed the immense silence. “All right,” she told herself, just to hear a sound. “I’ll hurry.”
Once the black cloth was over her head and she focused on the long-distance scene of rocks and clouds, planning the photo as three-quarters sky and clouds and one-quarter land, she lost herself in finding the right angle. She might have one of her best ever photographs of this strange moonscape. After she pushed the shutter, she readied herself to follow the sheriff. She peered in every direction but could see nothing but lava rock and occasional grass.
When she opened the compass, she wasn’t certain she remembered what the sheriff had told her. There was north. She was to travel south, but not due south. She studied the arrow, and, even as she watched it, it vibrated, as if pulled in the wrong direction. To travel south now looked as if it was at a different angle from where she had decided a few moments ago. Then the arrow swung ten to fifteen degrees back and forth. She held her breath, and it seemed to decide where to land, and it was not in the same place as it had been. What had Rosy said? Nell looked around again and saw the rocky-topped feature in the distance. That was where she was supposed to go. Something was wrong with the compass, and she couldn’t depend on it.
With her pack on her back, Nell began her trek toward the rough top. It looked far away, and she knew already that distances were deceiving in this strange country. Walking toward it—stumbling would have been a better word—took her in what she hoped was the right direction. The sun sank lower, and the angle of light changed. A dusty, almost white, path appeared in the lava not far from her. She scrambled over to it. It ran roughly in the direction she thought she should be traveling.
Once again, she pulled out the compass. This time, the needle pointed north, almost directly behind her. It didn’t swerve or swing or tremble. She was facing south. The dusty path veered off to the right. A rock cairn caught a late sunbeam. And then in the distance, she heard a series of howls. They made her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck rise. Whether this was an Indian trail or an animal trail, she didn’t know, but, whatever it was, she would follow it. It seemed to aim in the general direction she should travel. Surely, the sheriff had seen it, too. Maybe he had built the cairn. The path was so much smoother t
han her earlier travel, she could hurry faster. The only bad thing was that it also seemed to be heading in the direction of the howls.
Nevertheless, Nell picked up her pace. It grew darker, and then she felt a raindrop, and two and more. The clouds sank almost to the ground. She still had a flashlight in her pack, so she dug it out, along with a rain poncho. The light barely shone. In the distance she saw what looked like a campfire. The howls had stopped with the lowering of the clouds. At last, she neared the fire. There was no tent, but a tarp had been strung up over the branch of a pine tree. A figure crouched near the fire while sitting under the edge of the tarp. This was not the sheriff or Rosy.
“Hello,” Nell called.
A face, pale in the flames’ reflection, turned toward her. The person watched her as she neared the fire. “Still out here, are you? You should be at home, cookin’ dinner for a husband and kids. Not wanderin’ in the lava fields.”
It was Ben O’Donnell, the cowboy who said he herded cattle in the area. Nell relaxed. She really hadn’t expected a ghost, but the eerie world of the craters seemed like it could conjure up anything, especially after two bodies had been found. “Hello, Mr. O’Donnell. Are your cattle close?”
The man gestured off to the darkness, growing blacker by the minute.
“I was following Sheriff Azgo and Rosy Kipling to a campsite by the Big Sink. Is it near here?” Nell took a step toward where the cowboy had gestured. “My compass stopped working.”
“The Big Sink is that big hole in the ground. You ain’t too far. Not sure you can find it now that it’s dark.” He patted the canvas cloth next to him. “Sit a while. Maybe your friends’ll come lookin’ for you.” Then a person crept out from the back of the tarp. When the person looked out and up, Nellie started.
“What are you doing here?”
“Pearl! I could ask you the same question.” Nellie moved closer. “You’re a long way from home.”
“No, I’m not. I work here with Ben now. I wasn’t wanted in Stanley, and I wasn’t going to stick around there, not after . . .” She looked at Ben and stopped.
In the firelight, Pearl’s hair looked almost white. She grabbed Ben’s shoulder and pulled herself up at the edge of the tarp. “How’re you doing? Is your arm all healed up?”
Nellie was so surprised to find Pearl, her almost-friend from the summer and companion in the escapades around the mountains in the Stanley Basin, she didn’t know what to say.
“No. Yes. My arm is fine. Are you really a wrangler, like Mr. O’Connell said? Was that you the other day?” No wonder the person on the horse had seemed familiar. She was.
“Ben here is the wrangler.” She patted his shoulder. “I just ride along to help.” A sly smile moved her mouth. “Don’t I, Ben?” Pearl motioned to the fire. “Set a while. There ain’t no moonshine here.”
Nell stayed where she was, undecided. Her friends would be worried about her, and so would Moonie. There was still some light left, but not much.
“I think I’ll keep going. My friends will worry.” Her stomach grumbled then. She was sure Ben and Pearl could hear it. “I’ll follow this path I’ve been on.”
“That won’t take you to where you want to go,” Ben said. “It heads back to the blue lava—sacred grounds accordin’ to the Indians. Who knows if their spirits are out there dancin’ and whoopin’ it up. For all I know, they sacrifice bodies here. Savages. I’ve heard strange sounds when I been campin’ around these rocks.”
“I’d go with you,” Pearl offered, “but we can’t leave the cattle in a storm.” Ben made no motion to get up.
“You’ll need to veer off to the left, over thattaway.” Again, he gestured, but his pointing was so vague, it didn’t provide any real direction at all. “You better set yourself down. We got a little dinner left. You can have it.”
Pearl said nothing more. When Nellie demurred, she moved again to the back of the tarp. “Suit yourself.”
Nell decided to trust her instincts and leave. “I’ll find them. Thanks for the offer.” She returned to her path and moved as fast as she could without actually running. When the fire was far behind her, she again looked at her compass and tried to reorient herself. It wasn’t bouncing around this time, and her flashlight had enough power to show its face. That path continued to go the way she wanted to go. Were Ben and Pearl trying to mix her up? Why were they so far from the cattle if a storm was coming? And Indians. She doubted if there were any in these lands anymore. The white people had made certain of that.
A gigantic spear of lighting flashed in front of her, followed immediately by the crash of thunder. It was so startling and bright, she jumped a foot and gasped. There were few trees around her, and she might be the tallest thing in the area. This time, she did run, but stumbled and nearly fell. The lightning sizzled again, and in the afterglow, she saw a figure off to her side, tall as a man, but bent forward, perhaps twenty or thirty feet away. This time, she screamed, but it was lost in another thunder crack.
“Charlie! Rosy! Where are you?”
CHAPTER 12
An animal leaped on her, and she wrapped her arm around her head, trying to protect herself. And then the animal licked her face. “Oh, Moonshine! I thought you were a wolf!” She held him, and the tears flowed and mixed in with the rain. “I’m lost.”
“You are not lost, Nell.” The sheriff strode up and put his arms around her and hugged her to him. “We have you.” The sheriff’s flashlight showed the way on the ground. It was in a different direction than Ben O’Donnell had pointed.
“Were you over there?” Nell pointed and held onto Charlie’s arm. “I thought I saw a man when the lightning flashed.”
“No. I am right here. No one else is here, except Rosy in the tent.”
Nell knew she had seen someone—or something—but she didn’t argue. She was safe. Moonshine stayed close to her. She could feel him nudge her leg and then her arm. If Moonshine had seen anyone, he would have barked. Maybe she imagined it. The rocks formed all kinds of strange constructions, especially when seen in the dark. She could investigate in the morning.
“Come along. Dinner is ready for you.”
A fire lit the tent. Rosy stepped out and added another piece of wood. “Can’t no one sneak up on these rocks.” He, too, wrapped an arm around Nell. “What’re you tryin’ to do? Give this old man a heart attack?”
“You’re not old, Rosy. The storm made it so dark, I thought I lost my way.” She stood in front of the fire. The rain, light as it was, had chilled her. “I ran into Ben O’Donnell back there. And guess who was with him? Pearl from this summer.” She turned to Charlie. “They had a fire going and Ben acted strange—he sat there and pointed me in the wrong direction.” Nell rubbed her hands together. “Charlie mentioned food? I turned Ben and Pearl down, although they were courteous enough to offer me the remains of their dinner.” There had been no sign of any food anywhere. What had they been up to?
“Got beans and biscuits—your favorite.” Rosy filled up a plate. “You ain’t never gonna want beans and biscuits again in your life!”
“I grew used to them this summer, although I usually had lamb to go with,” she said. “And rosemary and wine.”
“I got just the thing for you, then.” Rosy sorted through his pack in the tent’s doorway and pulled out a dark-green wine bottle. “The Basque make the best. Here’s a cupful for you. This’ll heat you up fast enough.” He glanced at Charlie. “You want some, too? Might be good for what ails ya.” He held up the bottle. “I won’t tell nobody that you’re breakin’ the law.”
A smile tugged at Charlie’s mouth. He brought out a cup from his own pack and held it out. “These are special circumstances, I would say. Even for you.”
The electrical storm had moved away, and the rain stopped. The three of them sat around the fire on a long dead branch Rosy had found. The night felt grim, and none of them said much. Then Nellie remembered about the compass. She told Charlie how it had jumped around.
“The lava must have been magnetic near where we were,” he said. “I should have thought of that. I am sorry you were confused.”
“Will that always happen out here?”
“No, only at certain places. If you move around, you should be able find the spots where the compass will work—away from any magnetism.”
Rosy retrieved a canteen from the horse, which he had tied loosely to a nearby tree. They could hear the animal munch on leaves or shrubs. Rosy poured water in a small bucket and gave it to the horse. Nell borrowed Charlie’s flashlight and walked a short ways from camp to be private. When she returned, both men were in the tent, and Rosy was asleep, rolled in his blanket.
“You get the middle, Nell, so you will not wander off.” Charlie had laid out her sleeping bag. She crawled in, thankful to be protected by two strong friends.
Morning brought sunshine again. No clouds marred the deep blue of the bell sky. When Nell realized both men were up and about, she pulled herself out of her bag and rolled it up as they had done with their bags and blankets.
Rosy stirred a pan of mush over the fire and served it out on the metal plates. There were a few biscuits left from the night before, so they ate and then tidied up. Being waited on agreed with Nellie.