Chapter 4
They made camp at the foot of a small mesa, giving them protection from the chilly winds that often sprang up at night. Conrad started to unsaddle Selena’s horse before he tended to the black and the buggy team.
She hopped down from the buggy and hurried over. “I can take care of my horse. I don’t want to be any more of a burden than I have to.”
“I don’t mind—”
“No, I’ll handle it,” she said as she unstrapped the saddlebags and set them aside. “I insist.”
Conrad shrugged and turned to the black gelding. Obviously, Selena Webster was a proud young woman.
While it was still light, Arturo kindled a small and almost smokeless fire to boil coffee, fry bacon, and heat up some beans and biscuits left over from supper the night before. The fire would be out by the time the sun set. Conrad figured Leatherwood and the others wouldn’t have much trouble tracking them, but it didn’t make sense to help their enemies by announcing where they were.
Selena shook her head when Arturo offered her a cup of coffee. “I don’t take stimulants. No offense.”
“Oh, none taken,” he assured her. “I
do
require stimulants, especially when traveling through a godforsaken wilderness. This way there’s more for me.”
Selena smiled. “It’s not godforsaken. This part of Utah may not look like much, but God is here.”
Conrad hunkered on his heels and reached for the cup Arturo offered him. “From the things you say, I suppose you’re a Mormon, too.”
“Of course. I never denied my faith, Mr. Browning. Just because I don’t want to marry Father Agony doesn’t mean that I’m . . .”
Conrad smiled. “A heathen Gentile like me?”
“That’s not exactly how I would have put it.”
“Don’t worry,” Conrad told her. “I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about anybody’s religion, or lack of it, including my own. I’ll admit to being curious, though. Were you raised out here?”
Selena nodded as she took the tin plate Arturo handed her. “That’s right. My grandparents on both sides came here with Brigham Young. My family has been here ever since.”
“What about your parents? Do they live at this Juniper Canyon place?”
Selena’s mouth tightened. “My father does. My mother passed away a year ago.”
“Condolences,” Arturo murmured.
“My father is one of Father Agony’s men,” Selena continued. “Father Agony has had his eye on me ever since . . . well, ever since I stopped being a little girl. My mother knew I didn’t want to marry him, so while she was still alive she was able to exert enough influence on my father to keep him dragging his feet on the matter whenever Father Agony approached him. But since she passed on . . . I knew it was just a matter of time before my father agreed to what Father Agony wants. He’ll make it worthwhile for my father.”
“I have to say I mean no offense, Miss Webster, but bartering one’s flesh and blood that way seems rather medieval,” Arturo commented. “Even barbaric.”
“It’s the way things are done at Juniper Canyon, and in other places, too,” Selena said with a fatalistic tone in her voice. “And it’s not always bad. Some of the elders are fine men, and their wives are very happy. I just don’t want to live my life that way.”
“Nobody can blame you for that,” Conrad said. “And nobody should force you to, either.”
“Unfortunately, they can do that, whether it’s legal or not. They’re a law unto themselves.” Selena looked off across the plains. “I thought if I could get away from there, I’d go to California. I might be safe there.”
“How do you plan on getting there?”
“I . . . I have a little money. My mother saved it. She meant to use it to help me get away when the time came, and she told me where she hid it. And that horse is mine. My father gave it to me. I didn’t steal it.”
Conrad shook his head. “I never said you did.”
“I know.” Selena cast her eyes down. “I’m sorry. I’m used to everyone being suspicious of me all the time.”
“Perhaps with good reason,” Arturo put in, “since you
did
run away.”
“All I know is that I’m not going back,” Selena said with more than a touch of defiance. “They’ll have to kill me to get me back to Juniper Canyon, and I don’t think Father Agony would be very happy about that.”
“It’s not going to come to that,” Conrad said. “It just so happens we’re headed west. You’ll come along with us, and when we get into Nevada and find a town, we can put you on a train for San Francisco. The men who are after you will have a pretty hard time finding you there. We might even come across a flag stop along the way and manage to get you on a train before we get to Nevada.”
“That would be wonderful! Like I said, I can pay—”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ll need your money once you get to California.”
“But you’ve already done so much—”
“It won’t be a problem,” Conrad assured her.
Through various companies and holdings he owned a considerable amount of stock in the Southern Pacific, and in a number of other railroad lines as well. In fact, due to his half of the business empire he had inherited from his mother, Conrad Browning was one of the richest men in the country. The only less likely tycoon was probably his father Frank Morgan, who had never let his newfound wealth change him one little bit from the drifting gunfighter he had been for decades.
The sun was a red ball touching the tops of the mountains. As soon as it dropped below the peaks, night would fall with stunning swiftness. “We’d better put the fire out before it gets dark,” Conrad told Arturo.
While Arturo was doing that, Conrad checked on the horses picketed nearby. As soon as the light faded, he intended to saddle the animals again, in case they needed to get away in a hurry during the night. In fact, he decided, it might be a good idea to take more precautions than that. Leatherwood or one of the other avenging angels might have been watching them from a distance with field glasses.
Selena looked drowsy. She’d had a bedroll strapped behind her saddle, and Conrad figured she’d like to curl up in it and get some sleep. But those precautions he had thought of came first.
He went back to kneel beside the extinguished fire and said quietly, “As soon as it’s dark, we’re going to move camp.”
“Why?” Selena asked. “This seems like a good place.”
“Yeah, and those fellas who are after you might think so, too. They may have been watching without us knowing. If they think this is where we’re camped, they’re liable to slip in here and grab you during the night.”
A shudder ran through her at Conrad’s words. “I understand. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Neither do we.”
As Conrad expected, night descended quickly. The sky faded from blue to black, with millions of stars seeming to wink into existence. The floor of the desert was cloaked in stygian gloom.
Working by feel, Conrad and Arturo hitched the team to the buggy. Conrad intended to saddle Selena’s horse for her, but by the time they were finished with the buggy, she had already taken care of that chore. Conrad turned his attention to the black gelding.
When they were ready to go, he said quietly, “We’ll lead the horses at a slow walk to keep from making as much noise as we can. Sounds carry a long way out here.”
“I know,” Selena said. “I grew up here, remember?”
“Then maybe you know of some other place we can camp.”
She thought about it for a moment, then said, “If I’m right about where we are, there are some big rocks about two miles from here.”
“Can you find them in the dark?”
“Maybe. They should be west of us. I know a little about steering by the stars.”
“So do I,” Conrad said. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 5
Conrad listened for the sound of horses moving around the countryside as he, Arturo, and Selena led the animals at a deliberate pace toward the rocks Selena had mentioned. He didn’t hear anything except the steady hoofbeats of their horses and the faint sighing of the night wind. If Leatherwood and the rest of the Mormon gunmen were on the move, they were probably trying to be quiet about it, too.
When they had gone what seemed like two miles, Selena whispered, “I don’t understand. We should have found the rocks by now.”
“They’re around here somewhere,” Conrad told her. “If you get off line just a little, it can make a big difference in where you end up. Let’s stop here and take a look around.”
They halted and spread out to scan the surrounding landscape as best they could by starlight. After a moment, Arturo said, “I think I see something.”
Conrad and Selena joined him, and he pointed toward some dark shapes in the distance. “Could that be them?”
“I think it is,” Selena said.
With a specific destination in sight, they set off again, and a few minutes later found themselves standing in front of the scattered slabs of rock, the largest of which were ten feet tall and thirty feet wide.
“What a distinctive formation,” Arturo said. “If I were a geologist, I think I might like to study these rocks.”
“If you were a geologist, you probably wouldn’t be here,” Conrad pointed out.
“I didn’t think I was a two-fisted, gun-totin’ frontiersman, either, but sometimes fate forces us into strange and unexpected roles.”
Conrad laughed. “That’s certainly true. The two of you ought to be all right here. I’m going back to the mesa.”
“Back to the mesa?” Selena repeated. “Why in the world would you do that if you think Leatherwood and his men might attack the camp we had there?”
“While it was still light I noticed a little trail leading to the top. If I can get up there, I’ll hear them when they ride up and maybe I can eavesdrop on whatever they say. It could give us a real advantage if we know what their plans are.”
“That’s a very astute observation and a cunning stratagem,” Arturo said. “I’ll stand guard here, I assume?”
“That’s the plan,” Conrad said.
“Very good. Be careful, sir.”
“Yes.” Selena moved closer to Conrad in the darkness. She reached out and rested her hand on his arm for a second. “Be careful. I really don’t want you getting killed on my account.”
“I don’t intend to,” Conrad said.
He took his Winchester but left his horse, heading off on foot back in the direction they had come from. He moved at an easy trot that ate up the ground but was almost noiseless.
Lit by the faint, silvery glow of the stars, the landscape around him was eerie, and once again Conrad was struck by how alien his surroundings were, as if he were on some other planet. At times he felt like the only human presence in a vast emptiness.
But that wasn’t true, of course. Other humans were out there in the darkness, and unfortunately, they wanted him dead.
He was going to do his very best to disappoint them.
His sense of direction didn’t betray him. The mesa where he and Arturo and Selena had camped briefly loomed up ahead of him. He paused to listen but didn’t hear men or animals moving around anywhere. Hoping he wasn’t headed right into a trap, he resumed trotting toward the mesa.
When he reached it, he had to hunt around for a few minutes before he found the trail he had noticed earlier. It was a rough ledge barely wide enough for one man that wound around the mesa. The footing was treacherous. Taking it slow he climbed toward the top. At one point a rock rolled under his foot, nearly throwing him off balance. The mesa wasn’t that tall, seventy or eighty feet maybe, but a fall from the ledge might prove fatal. At the very least he would be hurt badly enough to be easy prey for Leatherwood and his avenging angels.
The climb took several minutes, but when Conrad reached the top he could see for a long way all around. During the day the view would extend for miles.
The mesa was about a hundred yards in diameter. A few bushes grew on top, but mostly the vegetation consisted of clumps of grass. Conrad stretched out not far from the edge overlooking the spot where their camp had been. From there he could also cover the top of the trail. If Leatherwood and the other gunmen discovered he was up there, they would have him trapped. There was nowhere for him to go unless he sprouted wings and flew away. But, they would have to come up that ledge one at a time, and he could pick them off with ease. They would have to starve him out—
Which they might be perfectly capable of doing. Conrad wouldn’t be surprised at all if they were that merciless.
The ground retained some of the day’s warmth, even though the sun had set several hours earlier, but the night breezes sweeping the top of the mesa grew increasingly chilly. Conrad didn’t mind. The cool air helped keep him awake.
His senses were attuned to his surroundings, but he knew his hearing was the most valuable. In all likelihood he would hear the approach of the gunmen before he saw them . . . assuming they showed up at all.
The minutes dragged past. He wasn’t sure how long he had been waiting, but thought the moon ought to be rising any time. If Leatherwood was going to make a move, it would have to be soon.
A few moments later, he heard a faint, almost indiscernible
clink!
—the sound of metal hitting rock—someone’s spur, a gun barrel, something like that. It was enough to tell him someone was out there. Silently, he crawled forward until he could look over the mesa’s rim.
Suddenly, orange flame burst out below him. The glare was blindingly bright to eyes long accustomed to darkness. He jerked his head down and squeezed his eyes closed, hoping his night vision hadn’t been completely ruined.
During that fleeting instant when the fire seemed to fill his sight, he caught a glimpse of the blazing brand—a bundle of sagebrush or greasewood—as it flew through the air toward the campsite. He thought whoever had thrown it had two reasons for doing so. He wanted to blind and disorient the people who were supposed to be camping there . . .
And he wanted some light to shoot by.
That was confirmed a second later when a harsh voice shouted, “Hold your fire, hold your fire! They’re not here!”
Jackson Leatherwood. Conrad was sure of it. The leader of the avenging angels had brought his men to wipe out Conrad and Arturo and recapture Selena Webster, but the plan had come up empty.
The bundle of burning brush lay on the ground near the foot of the cliff. Ominous shapes moved out of the darkness and into the edge of the circle of light cast by the flames. Conrad recognized the wide-brimmed hats and the long coats. He even got a look at Leatherwood’s scarred face as the man strode forward and angrily kicked the burning brush apart, scattering it and causing sparks to fly in the air.
“They didn’t make camp here after all,” Leatherwood said. “They must have eaten supper and moved on.”
“But I saw them,” one of the men whined. “They unsaddled their horses, unhitched the team from the buggy, and spread their bedrolls.”
“Tricks!” Leatherwood raged. “Tricks meant to fool you—and they did!”
“I’m sorry, Jackson,” the man muttered.
Leatherwood stomped around a little more, letting off steam. “The closest good water is in the tanks at Frenchman’s Flat. They’ll have to head there or the water stop on the railroad at Navajo Wash. We’ll split up. Kiley, take two of the men and ride to the wash. The rest of us will go to Frenchman’s Flat.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea dividing our forces like that, Jackson?” Kiley asked. His voice, along with those of the others, was crystal clear to Conrad on top of the mesa.
“There were only two men,” Leatherwood snapped.
“Plus the girl. That makes three. The odds are even if you count her.”
“She’s a girl. She’s not going to fight.”
“She had the gumption to run away from Elder Hissop,” Kiley pointed out. “She might surprise you.”
“Let’s get back to the horses,” Leatherwood said. “God is on our side. He’s not going to take the side of a couple Gentiles and a wayward girl over His own avenging angels.”
Conrad hoped Leatherwood was wrong about that.
In order to keep dodging trouble until they got out of the reach of those fanatical gunmen, he and Arturo and Selena could use all the help they could get, divine or otherwise.