Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (34 page)

Ranger Gibbons was the seasoned warrior of the bunch. He wore a hard stare and the way his mustache was cut made it seem like he was always frowning. Of course, it could have just been that Gibbons was always frowning. Either way, the man carried a sense of importance about him, and it didn’t take long for Levi to realize that he was the right-hand man to the president of Galamore. That was enough information for Levi to know that the man would demand respect and to challenge him wouldn’t be in Levi’s best interest. But Levi had no reason to challenge any of them. To him, they were all just tools. Tools to help him find the man he’d been trying to kill for a decade.
 

Devlin led them to the spot where he’d been beaten up and from there he was able to follow the tracks easily enough.
 

“They more than likely avoided the road for a while,” Devlin said, “since they didn’t want to be caught. So, the trail they left should be much easier to follow. If they went by road, though, we might get into some trouble.”

They traveled for another two hours until the tracks led them to a small cabin in the woods. It was a nice, quaint place, and there was a fire puffing out smoke through the chimney.
 

“I know this place,” Gibbons said underneath a scowl. “This is the home of Alban Lang and his daughter, Rachel.” He shook his head slowly. “It makes sense now.”

“What does?” Strand said worriedly.
 

When they approached the home, each man got off his horse, Devlin groaning and taking his time. They walked forward but stopped in place when the front door swung wide open. There stood a man with a shotgun in his hands. The man didn’t seem too threatening, but cautious. Still, Levi rested his hand on his six-shooter.
 

“What do ya’ll want?” the man on the porch yelled.
 

Gibbons had his gloved hands in the air and shook his head. “I’m looking for Alban Lang.”

“Alban ain’t here,” the man said. “You a Ranger?”

“I am.”

“Sorry about this,” the man said, nodding to his shotgun. “This whole situation is a bit weird if you ask me.”

“What situation?” Gibbons asked.
 

“Alban told me he’d probably have visitors come looking for him. He didn’t say why.”

“You’ve spoken with him?” Strand shouted out.

“I got a post,” the man said. “A hawk, so I knew it was urgent. The thing told me Alban looked nervous while he was writing. I asked it where it flew in from, but it wasn’t at liberty to say.”

“Excuse me, did you just say you talked to a hawk?” Levi asked.

The others looked at him strangely for a moment. Finally the man answered. “That’s right. A lot quicker than a standard bird, you know.”

Levi shook his head and looked toward Gibbons, nodding for the man to continue.

“Would you mind if I took a look at his note?” Gibbons asked politely.

The man held firm to his shotgun and squared his jaw defiantly. “I’m watching Mr. Lang’s homestead. I intend to take care of this property and of the privacy of the man himself.”

“Then I’m afraid I will have to use my authority and demand to see the note,” Gibbons said. “By order of the law, I’m commanding you to give up that letter.”

“I would,” the man said, “but I threw it into the fire, just as requested.”

Strand swore, but Gibbons remained stone faced. “Then tell me what it said.”

“Just that he was taking his daughter and that they were going to be gone for a few months. Said they had some urgent business down south somewhere.”

“And he didn’t specify where?”

“Nope.”

Levi didn’t necessarily believe the man, but they weren’t going to get anything out of him. Considering these men were men of the law, Levi knew he would not be allowed to coerce the man into delivering more information. Gibbons would probably frown upon Levi’s method of interrogation.

“Did he mention any other traveling companions that were with him?” Gibbons pressed.

The man shook his head. “Only mentioned himself and his daughter. Can’t imagine what kind of business they would have that would take so long. Especially with winter coming up soon. I sure wouldn’t want to be traveling in the snow. Ya’ll know how bad it can get ’round here.”

Gibbons dipped his head slightly and mounted his horse and the others did the same. “Come,” he said to the group. “That’s all we’ll get from him.” He motioned for Devlin to lead the group as they continued onward.
 

Levi learned that the one good thing about them traveling through these parts was that there was very little traffic on most days. Whatever tracks were there could very well be the company they were after.
 

It was Levi, not the master tracker, Devlin, who noticed hoof prints traveling alongside another set of prints within the confines of wagon wheels. When he pointed this out to the group, Devlin’s eyes went wide, and for the first time, he seemed excited.
 

“By golly, you’re right,” he exclaimed joyously. “This here would be the cart carrying supplies and passengers. And the tracks next to it is more than likely my own stallion they stole from me.”

“Nice work, fellas!” Strand said with a smile.

“How old are the tracks?” Gibbons asked.
 

Devlin thought for a while and shook his head. “Hard to tell, but I think we aren’t too far off. If we ride hard enough we might be able to catch up to them the day after tomorrow.”

“That’ll be cutting it close,” Gibbons said. “They are undoubtedly headed for the southern border of Tel Haven Forest. Once they reach it they will be much harder to follow. More traffic. More tracks. More roads to veer toward. We have to assume that this is their plan, because Marum will need to be out of here as quickly as possible.”

Levi tried to figure out Nate’s role in all this, but the idea perplexed him. It was possible he was just along for the ride, but if he knew the man at all, he knew he’d be looking for his brother, Joe. Perhaps even the man Tyler Montgomery. In fact, Tyler Montgomery would be a person of interest whenever Levi finished dealing with Nathaniel Cole. According to Amos, Montgomery was the man who wanted the book in the first place. If he knew all about it, then he would know how to get back home. But that was a mystery for another day.
 

They traveled on and on and finally decided that the tracks were too difficult to spot as the sky grew darker. They made a quick fire to stave off the evening chill, each man quietly chewing the little amount of food he had brought with him. Thankfully, Gibbons had been thoughtful enough to give Levi some dried meat and bread before they started their journey into the woods. He’d separated his rations and figured he had enough for a couple of days if he ate sparingly. He supposed the others were in about the same shape.

“Good thing is,” Devlin said after almost an hour of silence among the men, “the tracks are looking fresher, if even only a little bit. That means we’re catching up to them.”

“Well, if we don’t get ’em soon, we’ll need to start huntin’,” Strand said irritably. He rubbed at his shoulders and puffs of white vapor escaped his lips when he spoke. “And I didn’t bring my rifle.”

“That man stole my rifle,” Devlin said. “Nicest thing I ever owned.” He lifted a rifle into the air with his uninjured arm. “I brought this standard issue, but it ain’t nothing to what they stole.”

“Well, if the time arises and we need a rifle,” Gibbons said, “the standard issue will do. It’s still a fine gun.”

“Well, you ain’t ever fired what I had,” Devlin came back. But his eyebrows shot up and he sat straighter when he realized his error. “Sir!” he added quickly.

Gibbons waved him off. “At ease, Devlin. Take your boots off. Warm your toes. You can call me sir when we start back in the morning.”

Devlin didn’t answer, but he seemed relieved and slumped back down as he stared into the orange flames in front of them.

The wood they had found lying around the forest floor crackled and whistled as steam and smoke blew upward and the flames crumbled it slowly into fine, burning ash. Levi remained quiet through the night. He lit his final cigar and smoked it quietly, sad that he didn’t have any left. There were a few conversations interspersed throughout the evening but he didn’t participate. He didn’t feel the need to. This wasn’t his land. These weren’t his people. He didn’t want to confuse them with how he had come to be here. He would be with them for a short time, and then he would be on his way.

Inevitably, however, since the others weren’t overly keen on each other, Levi was asked a lot of questions about Nathaniel Cole. There wasn’t much for him to say. He didn’t want to get personal. The real story was none of their business. Levi left it at, “Where I’m from, he’s a highly sought after individual.”

“So, do you think he was hired by Marum’s brother to break him out?” Strand asked.
 

Levi nodded his head, knowing the truth, but withholding it. “I suppose it’s possible, but I’m not so sure. I think it’s more likely that he got into the jail to create a distraction.”

“But there would have been no way for him to get in there without me seeing,” Strand said, looking from Levi to Gibbons, back and forth.

Levi shrugged. “And yet, he was there. Seems to me like you might have been sleeping on the job.”

If looks could kill, Levi would be a corpse. Strand scowled at him so badly, his eyes were just slits and his teeth showed like an angry mutt.
 

“Listen,” Levi said, trying to diffuse the situation. “To your credit, Nathaniel Cole is a slippery son of a gun. If anyone could get in without you noticing, it’s him.”

“Still,” Gibbons offered, “seems awfully far fetched that he’d go into a jail just to start a distraction.”

Levi knew it was far fetched. If he knew anything about Nathaniel Cole it was that he’d stay clear of the law as best he could. He’d never step foot in a jail, probably not even to save his own brother.

He shrugged again and tossed a piece of grass into the fire. “I never said I knew why he was there. Your theory about being hired to get Marum out might be a good one. Good as any, I guess. I’ve just been chasing him pretty close for a while now. Don’t really see how he could have gotten a new job without me learning about it.”

“Where’d you chase him out of?” Devlin asked.
 

“A little place called Texas,” Levi answered. He almost grinned at himself when he said this. None of them replied. None said they had or hadn’t heard of it. Levi figured none of them wanted to admit that they didn’t know where Texas was.

“What’d he do?” Devlin asked.

Levi let the question hang in the air. There was no thinking about the answer to this question. The man was a thief and a cold-blooded murderer of the worst degree. Nathaniel Cole was a monster.
 

“He’s a killer,” Levi said, trying to suppress his snarl. For a brief moment he thought he felt his left eye sting with water, but he just stared at the fire, hoping the heat might burn away the tear before it dropped. He almost didn’t care if the others saw the emotion in his face. Nathaniel Cole ruined Levi’s life and that was all there was to it. He had no pride left. He didn’t care what any man thought of him.
 

Still, he suppressed the emotion and the tear did not surface. But the silence loomed over the camp until one-by-one each man lay on his back and slowly drifted to sleep.
 

Levi’s cigar finally smoldered at the end, and he flicked the little bit into the fire in front of him. He was the last to fall asleep, his thoughts on that night when he’d seen the house on fire. There were no screams. There was no life in that house at all. Just death. And the killer had been Nathaniel Cole.

Winter, 1873 A.D.

It was already too late for dinner, but Levi was going out anyway. He wouldn’t be long. Maybe an hour.

He’d worried about leaving Alice and the children there, considering the state Scruff was in. His older brother was sweaty and nervous-looking, and when the family had gotten there, it seemed as though Scruff had forgotten they were coming.

“It is a monthly ritual, after all,” Alice had spewed whenever they talked about it outside on the porch.
 

She was angry and Levi understood why. Ever since Scruff had lost his wife a couple of years ago to sickness, Levi had made it a point to take the family over to his house for dinner once a month. Levi knew that if it were the other way around, and they expected Scruff to come to their house, he would never show up. He would forget or just decide it wasn’t something he wanted to do. But it was Levi’s idea to go to Scruff’s because he knew his brother wouldn’t send them away. Only bad part was, Scruff always wanted them to come later around eight. It was an awful time to have supper, but it was a request they only had to endure once a month.
 

But this time, there was no food. No preparation whatsoever. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, though it had been a while since the last. Levi feared this would be the last straw for Alice, but her face softened when they stood on the porch, shivering.
 

“You just go get the meat and I’ll start on the vegetables here,” she said. “The children can play games, and maybe we can convince your brother to join in.”

Levi nodded and kissed Alice on the cheek. “Thank you for being patient with him. We’re the only family he’s got left.”

“That’s why I’m so patient,” she said, smiling. She rubbed his shoulder and then turned to go back into the house, closing the door behind her quickly.
 

Levi made his way to the buggy and was about to pull away when he heard his name shouted from the house. He looked to his right and saw Scruff running out toward him. His brother’s large features weren’t hard to miss as he came bumbling forward. When he got to the buggy, he scratched at his thick red beard nervously.
 

“I’m sorry I forgot about dinner,” he said. “It’s been such a busy day.”