Durango (25 page)

You got an army, Sheriff, Sheridan said. Just make sure your guys don't get themselves lost.

Naw, the sheriff said, this is the A team. You know most of them. Seems one of the girls is some big shot's daughter. So, I wasn't given any choice but to roll out the best. And the group coming to your place should be there in about fifteen minutes. They'll need to park their horse trailers at your place, if you don't mind.

Don't mind at all. Problem is, Sheridan said, looking at his watch, it's going to take a good three or four hours or more to get up there on horseback. And if that weather comes in, it could get pretty shaky getting down from up there. Might have to overnight. I hope your guys have their long johns and sleeping bags.

They do, the sheriff said, though if we're lucky and those kids are where they're supposed to be, it's not out of the question everybody can get back by midnight. We've got a chopper coming down from Grand Junction to try to locate these kids from the air while it's still daylight and make sure they're alright. If we could find a clearing up there, we might even try to lift them out.

Not much clearing around that area, Sheridan said, and a lot of tall trees and some pretty steep slopes. I probably know that area better than any of your guys. You want me to take them up there?

Naw, Dan, you don't have to do that. We've rousted you out much too often. Just give our guys some guidance and go over their maps with them so they know what they're doing. Then he hung up.

When the rangers, deputies, and rescue crew arrived, they parked their trucks and horse trailers, unloaded their horses, and saddled up. Sheridan bent over their trail maps on his kitchen table, pointing out trails, gulches, streams, and rough patches, and suggested the most effective route up and back. Once found, the students would have to leave their gear and double up on the horses of their rescuers to get down. Sheridan made the crew check their heavy-duty flashlights. It's either going to be overnight up there or a long dark ride down to get back here by midnight, he said.

Sheridan watched as they assembled in his yard. He then made a quick decision, scribbled a note and placed it against a brown paper–wrapped package on his table. He patted Toby and told him to watch the house.

He went to the barn and saddled Red. He put on a parka and a liner with ear covers under his Stetson. Out in the yard he told the group that he would take them up as far as he could to make sure they found their way. Despite their disavowals of his obligation, he said, I can get you up there faster than you can get yourselves there. We don't have a lot of time to waste.

He led them across the north end of the Waldron property to the east and then north up the McClure Canyon toward the Endlich Mesa. A trail there would take them due north past Lake Marie and up the Crystal Valley toward Columbine Pass and Columbine Lake. They would pass just west of Sheridan Mountain, the 13,000-foot peak his grandfather had climbed and given his name in 1906.

54.

The lights were on when Caroline reached the Sheridan ranch that evening. She knocked repeatedly, with Toby jumping and barking inside the door, until she finally found it open and went in. She couldn't account for the yard full of trailers and trucks, but assumed it was one of the rescue parties Sheridan had told her about.

Her calls to Daniel went unanswered, and she asked Toby for his whereabouts as if she expected an answer. She thought he must have needed a last-minute dinner item and had gone to the tiny grocery and tavern down the road. She must have just missed him.

Then she saw the package and note on the table. The note said, “Have gone up to find some stray lambs. Fix your dinner and leave some in the frig for me. Don't drink all the tequila. Will be back late. Dan.” Then she saw something he had never written to her before scrawled at the bottom. “I love you.”

She didn't like this at all.
He shouldn't keep tempting fate like this
, she thought.
Why can't he just…settle down?
she thought. Then the idea made her laugh and she relaxed. He couldn't do those things, she realized, because if he did he wouldn't be Dan Sheridan.

She drank a little tequila, and it burned fiercely. She got crackers and cheese to lessen the fire and ate them with the drink until she relaxed. She looked at her watch as the sun began to sink. How far up? Where did he have to go? She knew from the yard full of trailers and trucks that he was not alone. In fact, he was leading a cavalry unit, she thought. At least he wasn't up there by himself.

She sighed and settled in for a long, and mostly lonely, evening. Toby followed her everywhere and stayed close to her when she sat down. She turned on Sheridan's radio for news and music. After an hour or so, a weather bulletin warned about heavy snow and high winds in the high country. And she did not like that information. The early winter storm was coming down from Montana through western Colorado and on to the southeast. It was expected to bring heavy drifts in the San Juan Mountains but bypass the city of Durango.

Thinking that by some miracle he might be back earlier in the evening, she considered it best to cook the trout she found in the refrigerator and have it, together with some corn, ready for a late supper. He would be hungry. But he would also be thirsty. She poured another bit of tequila but made sure they was plenty left for him. She occupied some time looking at the maps and reading the tourist booklets laid out on the kitchen table and planning a getaway to a Cabo San Lucas beach when the January weather came.

Once she had rolled the fish in cornmeal and fried it the way he had shown her, she found it difficult to eat very much. She had little appetite and considered that she probably would not until he got back safe and sound.

From time to time, Toby would go to the kitchen door, look toward the barn, and whine softly. She called him back to the kitchen table and gave him bites of her fish.

She thought of the unopened package on the front room table and brought it into the kitchen. She untied the string and unwrapped the paper. It was the carved figure of an Indian woman holding a bird, perhaps a dove, in her arms. She wore a traditional dress that fell almost to her feet. The figure was long and sinuous. It had been freshly oiled and rubbed, and the walnut glistened. She read and reread the note he had left.

For a time she held the figure so tight her knuckles turned white. She sent up a silent prayer. She didn't know what else to do. Very late that evening she lay down on the worn leather living room sofa and covered herself with a sheepskin throw. She thought it best to wait for Sheridan like this. It would do little good to continue to stand by the window hour after hour.

Despite her vow to await his arrival, she presently fell into a deep sleep. Toby lay on the floor close beside her.

55.

At ten o'clock that Saturday morning, the dignitaries filed onto the platform at the Ridges Basin Dam site. A crowd of close to two thousand had gathered, much to Sam Maynard's delight. He scanned the back of the crowd for Daniel Sheridan's familiar hat but could not locate it. He somehow felt Sheridan would come late, but he would be there.

The band played “The Star-Spangled Banner” and the crowd sang along. The opening remarks were delivered by the mayor and then by his predecessor, old Mayor Hurley. The speeches then began and ran on for quite a while.

Despite instructions for brief remarks, too many on the platform saw an opportunity to claim credit, to compliment each other, or to view with delight the dawn of a wonderful new day. And this day turned out to be a brilliant fall Colorado day. Despite the storm clouds moving out of the San Juans and drifting to the southeast, the sun shone and the day began to turn warm.

After well over an hour of talks, the principals came off the platform and filed to the nearby beribboned dam site. Shiny new shovels were handed out and, predictably, there were not enough to go around. Several political figures ended up sharing grips with other political figures, some sworn enemies. But it was too important a day for old grievances and grudges.

After the shovels were turned and the ribbon ceremoniously cut, the crowd began to disperse and the dignitaries went to their cars to drive north to the Durango City Hall for a celebratory lunch.

Those who had not found that morning's
Durango Herald
on their doorstep had heard of a significant editorial on the front page, and they stopped at newsstands and drugstores to get a copy. Soon small groups of people in restaurants and coffee shops and even on street corners were reading the editorial and exchanging surprised comments. Here's what they read:

A Time for Justice and for Healing

Most citizens of Durango will remember a time twelve years ago when accusations anonymously circulated against one of our leading citizens. That citizen, then chairman of the La Plata County Commission, resigned his position and retired from a public life that some, perhaps many, hoped might lead to the governorship of Colorado.

Tomorrow a Colorado newspaper will publish a story documenting how the allegations against this gentleman were false, and it will attribute them to a former businessman in Durango named Russell Chandler. Mr. Chandler recently admitted to the publisher of this newspaper in a sworn statement that he was the author of the false accusations knowing them to be false. He further admits that the charges of corruption rendered against that public official, Daniel Sheridan, were not only false but were made both to discredit Mr. Sheridan and to conceal that it was Mr. Chandler himself who was guilty of fraud, bribery, and corruption.

Tomorrow everyone in this community will be able to read the details of this sordid business, and they should know that a good man, and a good woman, were wronged in a terrible fashion. For this, this newspaper bears its share of blame for following the story without due diligence to the facts and without insisting on more than rumor and speculation. We admit our error and ask the community, and particularly Mr. Sheridan, for forgiveness. Quality journalism, protected by the Constitution, should never let this happen.

When all this quiets down, and we hope it will soon, each of us might look into our own souls and ask how often we have contributed to, or perhaps merely condoned, the casual character destruction that has become a hallmark of our public life. In that process, we encourage as many citizens of Durango as feel so moved to join us in apologizing to Daniel Sheridan and asking for his forgiveness. He is the very best that this fine city has to offer.

 

Frances Farnsworth

Publisher

56.

Deep in troubled dreams at the very break of dawn, Caroline heard an irregular thumping sound outside. She was totally disoriented and first thought she was in her own home. Then she remembered and looked around Sheridan's living room. It was gray outside and the thumping continued. Toby sat with his ears sharply pointed.

She ran to the front door, thinking it was Sheridan kicking his boots outside. She turned on the light but the porch was empty. The thumping continued, but it was now clearly coming from the area of the barn.

She rushed into the kitchen and looked toward the barn. There stood the tall red horse. He was kicking the barn door in an effort to get in.

Caroline let out a cry and threw herself out of the kitchen door with Toby in close pursuit. She shouted, Red, Red, where is Danny? Red, where is Danny? She looked all around the yard. The trucks and trailers of the rescue squad were still there. There was no sign of Sheridan.

She went to the great horse and threw her arm around his neck. Where is he, Red? The horse shook his head, as if to signal that he did not know. Then she looked down to see the horse favoring its left front foot, the one he had been swinging to hit the barn door. She opened the barn door as the light began to arrive. She led the horse inside and now saw that the saddle had slipped slightly sideways to the left. Sheridan's rifle was still in the scabbard. She struggled to loosen the cinch and slide the heavy saddle off. As she swung it to the ground she saw the scratches down the horse's left side and on its flank a couple of deep gashes.

She gasped and ran to the house as the horse nosed its feed bin. She raced toward the phone in the kitchen as it began to ring.
Thank God
, she thought.
He's calling to say he's alright. Or maybe someone else is.

This is Steve Ramsey, the voice said. Is Dan Sheridan there? She could not bring herself to answer. Hello? This is Sheriff Ramsey. I'm calling for Mr. Sheridan.

Sheriff, she almost yelled, Thank God. This is Caroline Chandler. I've been here all night waiting for Daniel. Where is he?

He joined one of our search parties that went to rescue some kids up in the high country. He'll be back there soon. I got a walkie-talkie call from the group he was with and they're almost down to the Sheridan place.

Will he be with them? she pleaded. He's got to be with them.

There was a pause. Well, the sheriff said, now I'm a little mixed up. The team leader said they found the kids just as the storm came in. They got them packed up and started back. Apparently somewhere along the Silver Mesa Trail near Crystal Valley they got separated. The wind was up to thirty, forty miles an hour and making a hell of a howl and they couldn't hear themselves think. Dan waved them down the trail and they assumed he was right behind them. They got back to McClure Canyon when it cleared up enough for them to figure out he wasn't there. That's when they gave me a call reporting that they had the kids.

Where is he, Sheriff? she pleaded. He has to be somewhere with them.

Well, I'll be very honest with you, Ms. Chandler, I thought he had gotten out ahead of them. That he had beat them down and would be there at his house. That's why I called to make sure.

Sheriff, I'm frightened. I'm really frightened. I just woke up a couple of minutes ago and heard his horse outside. I let him in the barn and he's in bad shape. He is still winded and he's shivering cold. And his left side is all torn up.