Chapter Thirty-Three
Heath walked silently beside his brothers, his eyes keenly searching. They had picked up a weak trail at first light, but snow had begun to fall, obliterating further clues. Ahead of him, Luke held up a hand. Immediately, they stopped and listened, hearing nothing.
“I don’t—” he began softly.
Luke shook his head, pointing off to the left. Heath’s eyes followed, straining to see what Luke saw. He scanned the area twice before noticing that the brush in the distance seemed out of place. Barely perceptible, it would have been missed by most anyone, even those familiar with the mountain. He’d have missed it and walked right on by, if not for Luke.
They approached quietly, knocking aside a loose pile of evergreen boughs the trespassers had used to cover a narrow but well-trodden trail. Trouble was, they’d gathered Douglas fir branches and boughs and stuffed them in a copse of blue spruce. Heath gave Luke a sidelong glance. “Damned uncanny how you picked up on tracking so late.”
“Yeah,” he said with a shrug, “that’s what Whitefeather says. Finding an untapped skill at the ripe old age of thirty is rare.” He ducked low to keep his hat from scraping a low-lying branch and walked into the thicket. A few steps in, he turned.
“You coming? Or are you gonna watch me do all the work?”
Heath hurried to follow behind him. “It’s not my fault I can’t tell one Christmas tree from another at one hundred paces.”
“Brother, you couldn’t tell a Christmas tree from your ass with both hands stuck in your back pockets.”
Heath snorted at his crass remark. What could he say? Luke was right; his tracking skills left much to be desired.
“You could give me lessons.”
They were talking softly so their voices wouldn’t carry and alert their prey. A loud crack rent the air as Heath stepped wrong, snapping a tree branch beneath his boot. Luke stopped and twisted his head, giving him a look.
“Ain’t no amount of lessons gonna turn a lumbering bear into a prima ballerina. Fleet of foot you are not. Of course, if your aim is to make a bunch of noise and flush ‘em out to catch ‘em on the run, you’re on the right track.”
“When’d you get to be such a smart ass?” Heath growled.
“When’d you become useless as teats on a bull?” Luke fired back.
“At least I can tell a bull from a heifer, you—”
“Um… hate to break up this lover’s spat, but we’re aiming for silence here.”
The two older brothers turned to Aaron at once, and as was the case growing up, he was immediately odd man out, being the youngest.
“Thanks for the heads up, runt.” Heath’s retort was full of sarcasm.
“Yeah,” Luke added, “we never would have known unless you told us, junior.”
“All of you shut your traps.” Henry’s voice cut through the thicket. His stern tone familiar from their youth had them all shutting up. “It’s colder than a cast-iron outhouse on Christmas Day and I’m not aiming to relive my younger years with you three bickering and carrying on all the time. I’m ready to lock up these scallywags and be home in time for your ma’s roast chicken.” As he spoke, he brushed by them, taking the lead. Aaron bit his bottom lip, shutting down a laugh but not the amusement that glinted in his eyes. Heath looked skyward, although all he could see was tree branches, but it helped not seeing his brothers’ amused faces. Luke, on the other hand, was a good tracker, but less than skillful at containing his laughter in situations such as these. He snorted. It was once, but it was enough to set Aaron to grinning and Heath’s shoulders to shaking.
Henry didn’t turn, but was aware of their mirth, saying over his shoulder, “Fine, you three hang back and yuck it up. When I capture these thieving trespassers, I’ll send you the news by Western Union. That takes about three days, which is about the time it takes you boys to get over a womanly fit of giggles.” He stomped away from them. As he disappeared into the forest, they could hear his grumbling, something about the three of them being enough to give a bulldog’s ass heartburn.
“That’s a new one,” Luke chuckled, covering his mouth to muffle the sound.
“Yeah,” Aaron added, “and whoever heard of a cast-iron outhouse?”
“And I think he compared us to women with that fit of giggles remark,” Heath said with indignation, although he was grinning. “I’m feeling a touch insulted.”
Then it dawned on him that they’d let their pa go on ahead alone, into Lord knows what kind of situation.
“Hell.”
Heath ran after him, Aaron and Luke on his heels. After a few hundred yards, Heath burst into a clearing and stopped short, barely keeping from plowing into his pa, though that didn’t stop Luke from slamming into his back, and a second later, Aaron into Luke. Somehow, despite their combined weight being well over four hundred pounds, Heath kept his feet and looked at Henry, who was staring at a large opening in the rock face wall.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Heath whispered. “It is a mine. I didn’t think anyone would actually be that foolish.”
Aaron walked around them and approached the entrance. He crouched and tilted his head, listening. Abruptly, he stood and drew the six-shooter on his hip. “I hear voices. They’re coming out.” The sound of three other guns being cocked and readied sent an ominous ring into the quiet of the forest.
“No!” a high-pitched voice squealed. The sound echoing from the mouth of the cave, getting louder as it drew nearer. “I got as much right to be here as you, Jarrett Skeens. Let me go.”
“A mine ain’t no place for a woman, Wisty. Now get, before I bust yer tail, but good.”
“Touch me and die. And quit calling me that, dadburn you.”
Eyes wide, the men glanced at each other. Heath knew they were all in agreement with the Skeens fella; a mine was too dangerous a place for a woman.
Aaron stepped back from the entrance so he wouldn’t be seen as the scuffling footsteps approached.
“Quit fightin’ me, girl. You ain’t strong enough to operate the pulley, or use a pickaxe on that rock, and no way are we gonna let you near a stick of dynamite. You should have stayed home like we told you.”
“What home? If you recall, Slim sold our house to fund this doomed venture. Half of it was mine. Every man for himself, you said. How am I gonna get the money I need to get shed of you idiots if I can’t mine the ore?”
There was a grunt and a curse, followed by, “Dammit, that was the third time you stomped my toe. When I get you outside I’m tanning your hide.”
“The hell you are. You’re not my brother or my pa.”
“No, but I’m your intended, which gives me the same rights.”
“You’re dreamin’. I never agreed to marry you and never will. So you can keep your filthy hands to yourself.”
As Heath watched the mouth of the cave, the woman appeared. Dressed in grubby jeans and a dirt-covered coat, she was bent forward, her arm twisted behind her as a much larger man strong-armed her toward the entrance. Long straight black hair covered her face and muffled her cursing somewhat. She lurched forward as she reached the entrance, possibly from a hard shove from behind, and stumbled out to sprawl on the ground, landing only inches from Luke’s booted feet. Whipping the hair out of her face, she looked up. Large blue eyes, no, not quite blue, more like purple, at least they appeared so in the low light of the forest. Whatever the color, they flew wide as her eyes scanned the clearing, making the rounds from Luke, passing over him, and on to his pa, before swinging wide to Aaron. When they circled back to Luke, they dipped down and locked on the gun in his hand.
Luke squatted and clamped his palm over her mouth before she could scream a warning.
“Get ready for the whuppin’ of your life, girl. I think you crippled me—”
He stopped mid-stride as Aaron’s pistol met his temple. “Territorial Marshal Jackson; you’re under arrest. Assault, trespassing, destruction of property, claim infringement, don’t give me any more ammunition by fighting arrest.”
“How many more men in the mine?” Heath demanded of him as soon as Aaron had the man under control. He’d forced the man up against the rock face of the cliff. While holding his gun on him one-handed, Aaron withdrew a length of rope from his pocket and handed it to Heath, who began to tie the man’s wrists, none too gently.
“None of yer business. We’re working this claim fair and square—” the man began.
“You’re sadly mistaken,” Henry bit out. “This here is Jackson property.”
“It belongs to us now. We got signed papers from the owner to mine the silver. My pa’s inside. He can show you.”
“I don’t care if you’ve got papers signed by Rutherford B. Hayes himself,” Henry shot back. “This is Jackson land and I want you off it.”
Heath turned to Luke. “Ask the girl.”
Luke lifted the struggling girl to her feet, who started cursing him the minute he released her mouth. His hands clamped around her upper arms as he shook her, not hard, but enough that her mouth snapped shut.
“Answer the question. How many men are in the mine?”
“Three. Namely, his pa, his brother Colt, and my brother Slim.” She looked up at Luke as she answered, tilting her head back. He had the Jackson height, which meant he towered over the girl. Although tall for a woman, her head came no higher than Luke’s chin. He watched with fascination as her eyes swept over his face. When she spoke, her voice softened, taking on a gentle, lilting quality, almost musical, hardly like the screeching hellcat the man had pulled from the mine a few minutes prior.
He also noticed a flash of interest briefly cross his brother’s face and because he knew that look, Heath groaned inwardly. It was a covetous look, which he wore when something he wanted badly caught his eye and it meant trouble. Usually reserved to the saloon and dance hall, when one of the ladybirds flirted and flounced her charms his way, Heath had also seen it when they were kids. Luke was competitive. If Aaron played with a toy that Luke had long since cast aside, he wanted it back. If he saw a gun in the mercantile that a friend fancied, he had to have it first. As an adult when one of the wealthiest men in Laramie built his bride a fancy new home, Luke built one bigger and better. That he wore that look now with this girl boded ill for her, because when his brother set his mind on something, as annoying as it was, he always got it—always. Dammit!
“What’s your name, girl?” Luke asked. “And the others,” he added, as if realizing how that would sound. A girl might be unknown, but her brother, or the man and his father, might be more easily recognized.
“Don’t answer, Wisty. Wait for pa to come out.”
She cast the man an irritated glare. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not partial to having guns waved my way or going to jail. I told you we should get an attorney and get our money back from that lying cheat Harper. But, no, you and your thickheaded family wouldn’t listen although you’ve known for a month that this claim wasn’t going to pan out. Now this half-baked scheme is blowing up in our faces, Jarrett Skeens,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk, using his name intentionally.
It was the name in the middle of her rant that got Heath’s attention.
“Eugene Harper?” Heath wasn’t the only one to have caught it; he, Luke, and Aaron all barked the question at once. Startled, the girl’s head fell back and she stared up at Luke. “Yes,” she started hesitantly, but then anger infused her speech. “He’s the dirty, rotten swindler who stole our money in exchange for a deed to a farm that didn’t rightly belong to him. That’s why Slim and the Skeens geniuses came here on this futile search for—”
“Wisty,” Jarrett barked. She ignored him.
“—silver. Harper swore we would get our money back and then some, if we mined for him.” She threw off one of Luke’s arms and pointed at the now red-faced and furious Jarrett Skeens. “And this fool and my brother took him up on it. Saying we’d do it…”
“Wisteria!” Jarrett shouted, but it was as if he hadn’t said a word.
“…if it took blasting it out of the ground, an ounce at a time.”
“Wisteria Rose Turner!” A new voice entered the fray, drawing all eyes to the mouth of the cave where three more dirt- and mud-covered men stood—all armed. The man who spoke was tall, even taller than Aaron. He had long straight black hair and the same unusual eyes as the girl. Heath figured this was her brother Slim. The resemblance was striking, except one thing; where she was fair, he was darker skinned, of obvious Indian decent. He was also frowning at her. “Hold your tongue, Rose, we agreed.”
“It was a stupid plan, Slim. Besides, the jig is up. They know about it. On top of that, not only did Harper swindle us on the farm, they say this isn’t his land to mine, either. It belongs to some family named Jackson.”
“We are the Jacksons, girl,” Henry clarified. “But we need to know about Eugene Harper. He’s in on this with you?”
“Yes, after he robbed us blind, these idiots decided to make matters worse by throwing in their lots with him. We’ve been here for weeks and have found nothing but gypsum.”
“That’s because there’s no silver on the ridge, let alone the plateau. No gold either. It’s been surveyed for years. The silver you’ve heard tell of was found further south in Colorado,” Henry added.
Wisteria twisted free of Luke’s hold and turned to the men, glaring, eyes iced over with anger. “I told you! Didn’t I? I told you not to trust that sissified swindler.”
“Where is Harper now?” Heath asked.
“Who cares?” she snapped, arms crossed over her chest, her booted toe tapping in irritation.
“I care,” Heath bit back as he took a step toward her. “He evidently has a score to settle with my family. Tell me where he is, now.”
Her bluster diminished in the face of his anger and she took a step back, right into Luke. His hands came up to capture her waist, keeping her in place, making it difficult not to answer Heath’s questions.
“He stayed back in town. Said he had family there he was going to visit.”
Heath felt the blood drain from his face, his eyes shooting over her head to Luke. “Jenny!” He staggered back a pace, then turned and ran.
Ignoring the shouts of the others, he didn’t slow until he got to the horses. Only then did he realize that Aaron had kept pace. He looked at him for a fraction of a second, then without a word, all but leapt onto Baron’s back. As he spurred his horse, he had no doubt that his youngest brother was right behind him.