Chapter Thirty
November arrived with continued cold winds, but it stayed blessedly dry. The snow was long gone, except for some that lingered up in the mountains and in heavily shaded areas that never saw the sun. Locals said that lingering snow was waiting for more, but by the end of the third week, they hadn’t seen another flake.
After the blizzard, things soon returned to normal, with Will back to school and Jenny falling back into her same old routine. The excitement over her new job as herbalist quickly lost its glow. The initial preparations of mounting the shelves and planting the pots now complete, it took little time every day to water and wait for the herbs to sprout. Her small crop included holy basil, which peeked out of the dirt first, at least a full week before the others. Janelle said it treated anxiety and melancholy. The other pots were planted with catnip for stomach upset, chaste berry for female discomforts, and sage for sore throats and colds.
Heath encouraged her interest, glad that she had something enjoyable to occupy her time and didn’t complain once about the multitude of pots lining the kitchen window or along the newly installed shelving in their bedroom. He also didn’t mind when she took off a few days a week, either to the ranch house or to Janelle’s in town, to work on the home medicinal, with a Heath-approved escort, of course.
Usually, Heath assigned Nate, a forty-something man with a wife and three daughters, who was an expert at saying no when faced with a sweet smile. Occasionally, Heath would take her, but his days away from the ranch were few.
Letty and Janelle more than welcomed another set of hands for the rapidly growing business. Word had spread quickly about Janelle’s skill after the poison tea incident and the townsfolk turned to her more often for home remedies rather than the charlatans, or quacks, as Janelle called them, who continued to pass through town hawking their dangerous and often bogus—another Janelle term—cures. The three of them couldn’t keep up with the demand and often ran out.
During those down times, they worked on the book Janelle hoped to publish one day, writing detailed descriptions of the care of the plants and step-by-step instructions for the use of each herb. It was during one of those sessions that the ladies discovered Jenny’s artistic ability and put her to work making pencil drawings of some of the less common plants. They planned to get a photographer to photograph some plants, but Jenny’s illustrations were so good, they wanted to feature several of those as well.
About a week before Thanksgiving, the ladies had gathered at the big house to work. They were taking mid-afternoon tea in the seldom-used salon when Jenny took note of Letty’s piano. She hadn’t had the opportunity to play in so long, she found herself approaching and running her fingers over the keys. It was a quality instrument, but she missed her mama’s piano. If she’d held on to it rather than using it to pay bills, she wouldn’t have been able to use it at the cabin anyway, there simply wasn’t enough room. Someday, maybe she’d have another, but it was a huge expense and teaching lessons was no longer practical while living so far out of town.
She hadn’t had the desire to play after her horrible experience at the saloon, but now her fingers were as good as itching. Seating herself, she started limbering up with a few simple scales before transitioning into an easy sonata. Afterwards she played a selection of classics by Mozart and Wagner, before ending with a brand new piece. When she got to the reprise, Janelle began to sing, “Hello mother, hello father, something something, really bother, dah da da da, dah da da da…” She hummed the rest, laughing for not knowing all the words.
“That’s from a commercial for flea killer for dogs.”
“No,” Jenny said, still playing. “It’s Ponchielli’s ‘Dance of the Hours.’”
“Name that tune!” Janelle said excitedly.
“I just told you the name,” Jenny replied.
“No, it’s a game show from—” She stopped, laughing and shaking her head. “Never mind. I’ve recognized most of these so far. Play something else,” Janelle urged, “and we’ll try to guess the name of the song.”
“Okay, that sounds like fun, but you’ll never guess this one. I played this at the saloon.” She began playing a rousing dance number.
After a few minutes, she hit the chorus and Janelle stood up. “That’s the can-can!” she called with delight; motioning Letty up beside her as she proceeded to teach her the very risqué dance. Before long, they had their skirts raised in front and were kicking their legs in time to the music. Letty easily followed Janelle’s lead, bringing up one knee and alternating with a kick before switching to the other leg. Halfway through the piece, Janelle leaned over and whispered something to Letty that made her giggle like a schoolgirl. Jenny didn’t miss a beat. Knowing they were up to something, she watched eagerly waiting to find out what.
A few bars from the end, as if on cue, Janelle yelled, “And now for the big finish.”
They both turned and bent over while flipping their skirts up in the back, exposing their drawers as the last few notes played. Jenny howled with laughter at their silliness. The two naughty dancers joined in, collapsing breathlessly in one another’s arms while holding their sides.
Slow clapping had them bolting upright and twisting toward the doorway. As bad luck would have it, all of the Jackson men stood grinning from ear to ear and applauding. Janelle and Letty were flushed, but Jenny didn’t think it was from the dancing. She burst out in a great big belly laugh, relieved for once not to be the one caught with her pants down, quite literally.
“Darlin’, you were egging them on.” Heath’s voice cut through her hilarity.
“I’ll have you know that was from a perfectly respectable French opera,” she shot back, still grinning. “It’s called ‘Galop Infernal’ by Offenbach. In fact, it is a piece of some renown that was written over twenty years ago.”
“Hm…” Luke began with a mischievous grin. “If I recall correctly, I heard that same tune being played recently in the Red Eye by a pretty little redheaded gal in a pink satin gown.”
Her eyes rounded at her brother-in-law. The traitor, how dare he bring that up! Granted, she had mentioned it herself a few minutes ago, but Heath didn’t need to be reminded of her brief stint as the saloon’s piano player. She bent a look on Luke that she hoped clearly communicated her displeasure.
He sobered, taking a step back with his hands raised in surrender. “I could be mistaken, however.” Despite his reaction, Luke was clearly not intimidated, as he dipped his head and bit his lip to suppress a laugh.
Her eyes swung to Heath, who was walking toward her. “We were just having a little fun.”
“I saw that and I’m taking you to task for that very reason.”
“Heath!” Janelle and Letty both called his name, coming to her defense. At the same time, Jenny asked, “Why?”
He grinned as he slid in next to her, nudging her over on the bench. “Because we weren’t invited to the show.”
The men chuckled as the ladies sighed with relief. Jenny gave his shoulder a push for his teasing.
“You play beautifully, Jenny,” Janelle praised. “Will you play us one more?”
She nodded, as the family gathered to listen. Heath rose to give her room, leaning his elbows atop the piano as he watched from up close. She smiled up at him. “This is one of my favorites.”
Bach’s ‘Sleepers Awake’ began to roll effortlessly from her fingers, the soothing yet haunting melody filling the room. She felt Heath’s eyes on her face, but the rest of the room faded into the background as she became enthralled with the beautiful melody. She hadn’t realized how much she missed playing. Until a few months ago, she’d played every day since the age of five. Her mother was her teacher. She scrimped and saved to buy the latest sheet music as soon as it became available. Her eyes misting at the memory, a tear soon rolled down her cheek.
Heath shifted, his brow furrowed in question, but she shook her head. Finishing the piece with her eyes closed, she allowed the last notes to fade before she opened them again.
“Absolutely beautiful, Jenny girl.” Henry’s were the first words, prompting the others to agree and applaud.
“Why were you crying, darlin’?” Heath asked softly.
“It reminded me of my mother. She taught me that.”
“You need to get that gal a piano, son. All that talent is going to waste.”
“That’s first on the list as soon as the house is built, pa.”
Jenny beamed up at him through watery eyes. “Do you mean it, Heath?”
“Certainly, pa’s right. You play so beautifully, you need a piano.”
“Until then, come play here as often as you like, Jenny,” Letty said wiping her eyes. “I’m too rusty to play anymore and it’s a shame to see that beautiful piece used as a dust collector.”
“Thank you all,” she said, smiling a little sadly. “I didn’t mean to turn everyone so dour. I share the joy of music with others, but it often is so powerful or evokes a painful or bittersweet memory, that I’m moved to tears. Pay me no mind.”
“I’d like to hear the can-can one more time. That song evoked some powerful memories for me too.” Luke’s highly inappropriate remark sent the room into gales of laughter once more. The only exception was Letty, who turned and swatted him, but Jenny thought she saw her lips twitch.
* * *
Heath was definitely moved. He saw emotions as she played that she didn’t often reveal, except when he had her in his arms, loving her, making her forget to hide them, or during a spanking when she also let her guard slip. As each day passed, they grew closer, but after seeing her today, unreserved and free with her music, he saw he had more work to do. She seemed to be coming out of her shell more and more, but he wanted this for her every day, to feel free to be happy or sad, angry or jubilant. He needed to make sure she got to the big house as often as possible to play, knowing it would help. It obviously brought her joy and an emotional release.
A door slammed and footsteps came running down the hall, drawing everyone’s attention. Will was home, which meant their quiet interlude was at an end.
“Hey,” he called, “where is everybody?”
“In the salon, son,” Henry responded.
Will burst into the room, changing the energy immediately. His eyes landed immediately on Jenny. “You’re playing! Can we do our two-hand duet?” He rushed over, taking his seat next to her as if she’d agreed. As Heath expected, she didn’t say no. He observed as she sent her brother a warm smile and set her right hand on the keys. She and Will then plunked out a surprisingly off-key, but recognizable version of ‘Greensleeves.’
After they were finished to polite applause, Will glanced at them before leaning toward his sister. “You missed some notes, Jenny. Mama would say you need to practice.” He then hopped down and rushed to Letty. “Aunt Letty, what’s for after-school snack? I’m hungry.”
Letty rose and ruffled his hair as she led him toward the kitchen.
Jenny stared after him, flabbergasted. Once he was gone, she lifted her gaze to Heath. The look on her face was priceless and he valiantly tried to suppress a laugh.
“That little stinker,” she declared. “I didn’t miss a note.”
That was enough to push him over the edge and his laughter burst free.
A knock sounded at the front door, which Luke went to answer. A moment later, he reappeared, his expression serious. “Heath, you’ve got a visitor.”
Seeing a bleak-faced George Gleason standing behind his brother, Heath sobered instantly. “What’s wrong, George?”
“I’m not sure, Mr. Jackson.”
He crossed to shake the man’s hand, Jenny following close on his heels. “Call me Heath, please. There are four Mr. Jacksons and it tends to be confusing when we’re all in the same room.”
“Can I get you something, George?” Jenny asked. “Maybe you should sit, you look a bit winded.”
“No, thank you, Miz Jenny.” He nodded to her politely before looking back at Heath. “There’s some strange goings-on at the farm, Mr. Heath.”
Heath couldn’t help smile at the painfully polite man’s address, but he let it pass. “Explain what you mean by strange, George.”
“I found some downed fences at the north end of the property where it borders your spread, but that wasn’t all. There were footprints from shod hooves, at least five, maybe six. There was also wheel marks, as if they were pullin’ a wagon loaded full, ‘cause it left deep ruts in the mud.”
“That’s sounds like more than goings-on,” Henry said with alarm. “That sounds like a right smart bit of trouble.”
No one had any reason to be up that way this time of year. They’d already pulled the herds in after the first snowstorm, so there was no livestock to tend. The area was steep, turning treacherous in the ice and snow, and the land was unstable in places. It wasn’t widespread knowledge, but they’d had a few cave-ins over the past several months. He and Luke had already made plans to fence off some of those areas come the spring thaw.
“Take me there, George,” Heath ordered. As he stepped toward the door, a tug on his arm stopped him short. Jenny stood gazing up at him in concern, her fingers gripping his forearm tightly. “There’s probably a reasonable explanation, darlin’.”
The creases between her fine brows told him she was unconvinced. He wasn’t surprised; even he didn’t believe his own blithe words. His hand slid over the top of hers and squeezed. “Stay here with ma and Janelle. I’ll be back as soon as I can with some answers.”
“What do you think it could be?”
“I don’t know, but I aim to find out.”
“I’ll come with you,” Luke said, already moving toward the door.
“Me, too,” his pa stated, following him out, George falling in line behind them.
Aaron was also on his feet, but had paused to have a few quiet words with Janelle.
“Be careful, Heath,” Jenny urged. “I have a bad feeling about this. What if it’s the men from the barn? If they’re up to no good, they’ll be armed with more than a shovel, I’m sure.”
Like her, he was uneasy, a feeling of dread slowly churning in his gut. “Try not to worry, Jenny. We’ll be careful.” He kissed her, only taking time for a quick brush of the lips.
Glancing at his brother, who was busy kissing his own wife goodbye, Heath called, “C’mon, marshal. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”
“We need rifles,” Aaron insisted.
“I’ve got ‘em right here.” Henry said from the doorway, his arms full of two Winchesters, which Heath and Aaron favored, and his own preferred sixteen-shooter Henry rifle in hand. As he passed the weapons to his sons, Aaron asked, “What about Luke?”
“He’s armed and seeing to the horses. A man moves faster, not having a pretty girl to kiss goodbye.”
“More’s the pity,” Letty said softly from behind him. “We’ll have to fix that soon.”
Heath’s gaze fell on his mother. She’d sent her men off into potential trouble many times before and was used to putting on a brave front. She smiled at them, but it didn’t reach her eyes, where worry shone brightly. “Be safe,” she urged. “We’ll have supper waiting when you get back.”
* * *
They found the downed fence line and the tracks exactly as George had described. Following them a ways up the mountain, the trail became more difficult to follow as the sun set and it turned dark.
“There won’t be a moon tonight,” Henry commented. “Even if there were, with the clouds rolling in, it would be near impossible. We better call it a night.”
“Damn,” Heath murmured under his breath. “We’ll have to start again at first light.”
“I’ll send word to Bozeman,” Aaron stated, “and have a few deputies join us. There’s a lot of territory to cover with only five men.”
“Yep, we’ll eat, rest up, and be back at it come dawn,” Henry agreed. Reluctantly, they turned their horses back down the incline.
“Hold up,” Luke called, reining in. He slid out of his saddle and moved on silent feet toward a thicket of trees, vanishing like a phantom into the darkness.
Heath and Aaron often called him ‘ghost walker.’ For a big man, he was remarkably fleet of foot and stealthy; time and again as kids he’d sneak up on them while playing hide-and-seek, winning practically every time. He had also turned into an excellent tracker, having worked at length with Joseph Whitefeather after Janelle had been abducted on this same mountain. A half-breed with Shoshone blood, Joseph had been raised by his white father, but spent summers with his mother’s people learning to trap, hunt, and track prey. A valued ranch hand for eight years, they often turned to him for his special skills. Luke, who’d felt helpless in the snow-covered mountains while a loved one was missing, had turned to him as a teacher and acquired many of those same skills, becoming quite proficient. Now when the call went out for a tracker good enough to find a lost kitten in the Mohave Desert, Luke Jackson’s name was mentioned, along with Joseph Whitefeather.
“Dynamite.” Luke’s voice coming out of the darkness startled the horses, who stirred restlessly beneath their riders.
“Dang it all, Luke,” Henry cursed. “You’ll be scaring me into an early grave the way you keep sneaking up on people.”
“I didn’t sneak, pa, I walked.” Luke stated calmly, used to Henry’s fussing.
“Did you say dynamite?” Heath interrupted, getting to the important matter.
“Yeah, there’s a whole crate full of it back there, fuses and mining equipment too.”
“Mining equipment,” Heath repeated. “Who the hell would be mining up here, on our land, at this time of year? More curious, what in creation are they mining for?”
“Gold?” Luke offered, but then changed his guess. “Surely not with dynamite. Copper, maybe?”
“I’m guessing silver,” Aaron put in. “I get wires occasionally from Colorado about claim jumpers and robberies since silver was found in the Medicine Bow. We’re near the north ridge with a creek named Silverbend; some fool could have wrongly put two and two together.”
“Could be,” Luke agreed, tipping his head toward the woods behind him. “There’s a cart stored back there with pickaxes, oil wick miner’s hats, and ore buckets, and they don’t look new.”
“If someone’s been blasting underground, that would explain the cave-ins and rock falls we’ve had lately,” Heath repeated.
“Dadburned criminals is what they are,” Henry grumbled. “Poaching and thieving on our land. I want them strung up. You’ll see to it, Aaron.”
“First thing in the morning, pa. For now, let’s get back so I can make arrangements for the extra men.”
“Luke and I can pull in some hands to help in the search.”
“I’m not heading back,” Luke said. “I’m going to wait until they come back for their tools and follow them. It probably won’t be ‘til morning, so I’m gonna poke around some tonight. The entrance to their mine can’t be far off. My guess is they wouldn’t want to haul all that heavy equipment too far.”
“I’ll stay with you, Mr. Luke,” George offered. “After I fetch us some supplies, blankets, and such. It won’t take me long.”
“What about your ma, son?” Henry asked. “Who’ll tend to her?”
“She’s doing much better, Mr. Jackson, ever since Miz Janelle discovered her special tea was poison.” He turned to Aaron and gushed, “Your wife is an angel dropped from heaven, marshal. She saved my ma when even Doc couldn’t. She brought her back to us from death’s door.”
“I’d have to agree with the heaven-sent part, George,” Aaron said as the others snickered. Janelle may not have come from heaven, but she dropped into their lives by some kind of miracle. Their soft laughter went right over George’s head. He didn’t seem to notice though.
“We’ll spell you and George first thing in the morning, Luke,” Heath assured as he mounted up, leaving his brother with a little something to keep warm. “Don’t freeze your hind parts off out here, brother. Ma would be disappointed. She’s fixing to start the search for your wife.”
“As if that hasn’t been going on for nigh on thirty years!” Luke fired back before they rode out. “Aren’t two mischief-making daughters enough for the woman?”