Stained Snow (9 page)

She sighed and stepped into the shed. He wasn’t coming back. She needed to move on. Moping around about it didn’t do any good. It certainly didn’t get the chores done. That wasn’t acceptable. Her father relied on her as much as he did his other hands.

Maggie filled two pails with milk before carrying one to the bunkhouse and the other up to their porch. The cook made the hands meals at the bunkhouse while she took care of food for her and her father.

She grabbed a basket and started for the chicken coop but turned quickly at footsteps behind her. Her face fell when one of the hands came around the corner of the bunkhouse. “Maggie.” He seemed as surprised to see her as she’d been.

“Adam.”

He was only a couple years older than her. His naturally dark skin, from his Shoshone mother, had been tanned darker by the summer sun, although that faded now. She’d always thought him attractive, in a way, but he was a ranch hand. He didn’t even have any desire to own his own ranch. He’d never get her away from here, and she’d always considered him a friend.

“I brought Cook’s milk. I, uh, I still have to collect the eggs. Pa won’t be happy if breakfast isn’t ready when he comes in.”

“I’ve never known him to be too upset with you, Maggie.”

“Still, I should finish my chores.”

“Right.”

She turned away even though his dark eyes remained on her. She collected all the eggs in her basket and stepped outside again. Once more, she found herself looking west. Still no rider visible in the distance.

Why did she torture herself like this? She turned toward the bunkhouse to deliver half of the eggs and stopped at the sight of Adam standing there. Again or still? It didn’t matter. His eyes darkened, like clouds preceding a summer storm, rolling in fast and heavy.

She drew in a deep breath but kept walking. She didn’t know what his problem was, but it didn’t matter. She had things to do.

He snagged her arm as she walked past him. “Maggie, you need to stop.”

“Stop what?” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m only trying to finish my chores.”

“You’re waiting for him.” He spit out the last word like a piece of rancid meat. “He’s not coming back.”

Her face paled. She hadn’t thought she’d been so obvious. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, but fine, go on. You’ll waste away to nothing before he rides back. He doesn’t love you, Maggie. That man loves no one but himself.”

He muttered something else, but Maggie doubted she’d understand it even if the words had been clearer. It was in the language of his mother’s people. She turned away from him and walked up to the house. What had gotten in to him? Whatever it was, she wasn’t so sure she liked it.

She wasn’t ready to give up hope Thomas would keep his promise. No matter what anyone else said.

Chapter 11

Latham, Wyoming Territory

November 2, 1887

It took William nearly two days to reach Rawlins. He made it to South Pass, the easiest way through the Sweetwater Mountains without going all the way around to where the North Platte River cut through. Nobody had seen Thomas in a week.

He went west from there, following the railroad tracks. Every town William stopped in, someone had seen Thomas. Some had good things to say about Thomas. Others stated he’d stolen something from them. Even a horse in one of the small towns along the way. The rest wouldn’t say a word to him.

He’d been on the trail for nearly two weeks and had started to give up hope he’d ever find his brother. Every town William came to, there was less time between them.

He pushed on.

He rode into the town of Latham after passing through the mountains. It wasn’t a large town, but the railroad towns had plenty of saloons and houses of pleasure to cater to the rougher elements. William had never been much of a drinker, but the saloon was the best place to listen for news. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep up the pretense of drinking while listening for information, so he hoped it wouldn’t take long.

He stepped into the saloon and let his gaze scan the room before he headed over to the bar. In that quick glance, he had taken in who sat at each of the tables. William leaned against the bar and signaled the bartender.

When the other man approached he ordered a beer and put his coins on the bar top. He turned to face the room while he waited for it. Looking out at the other patrons didn’t give him any more information. He didn’t know any of them. Didn’t know if any of them were friends with Thomas, or even friendly with him. He didn’t even know who would be the best to approach for information.

The bartender slid the beer across the bar to him. William caught it but held a hand out to stop the bartender from leaving. “I’m looking for someone,” he said.

“There’s lots of someones here. Why don’t you go pick one of them?”

“Not one of them. I’m looking for someone particular.” William glanced behind him. If he wanted to learn anything, he would have to take a risk. He turned back to the bartender.

“His name’s Thomas Jensen.”

William knew in an instant the bartender wasn’t the only one who heard him say the name. A hush fell over the room. Conversation picked up again, but he still felt the tension. Like everyone listened to his conversation now. He kept his attention on the bartender and suspicion flared in the man’s eyes. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Had he made a mistake?

If this bartender was a friend of his brother’s, he was sure he was in trouble. Most bartenders kept a gun under the bar in case of needing to break up a fight. He didn’t want to be on the business end of that gun.

The man just said, “What are you wantin’ with him? Get yerself killed?”

“That’s not any of your business. I want to know where he might be.”

“I can’t tell ya that. Because I don’t know. I don’t keep track of the man’s comings and goings. You’ll have to find someone else to ask.”

William had turned away from the bar when the bartender reached out and grasped his arm. “Be careful who you go asking. You look like a nice boy. Tommy isn’t. Be careful of his friends. Is it really worth finding him?”

William weighed his answer for a moment. He remembered the way David wasted away. How Anna looked in that casket. No one else should have to go through that. “Yes, it is.”

“Your best place to start would be those men back in the corner.” He motioned back to where a group of men sat. “They’re friends with him. Be careful. Whatever you want him for, I’m sure it’s not worth your life.”

William wanted to tell him it was. Making sure Thomas paid for his crimes was worth anything he had to give. He took his beer and headed toward the corner table. He didn’t approach them. Instead he slid into a chair a couple tables away from them. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious with his eavesdropping. Even then, he couldn’t pick up much of what they said with their voices pitched low. Still, he caught a few words and phrases out of it.

“Headed south.”

“Said to watch.”

“Been a while. Not coming.”

“Brother.”

The last one made William think he didn’t need to listen to any more to confirm his suspicions. They knew where Thomas was or at least had an idea where he had headed. He took another swallow of his beer. He didn’t want to seem to anxious to leave after listening in on their conversation. As he went to take another sip of it, one of the men from the table left. A shiver went down his spine. This man had been speaking while he listened in. He needed to find out what he knew about his brother.

He tried to act casual about it, but he set his beer down and stood from the table. He left the saloon minutes after the other man, but he was no longer in sight. William’s mind raced. It started to feel like he’d walked into a trap. He had to be careful not to walk right into it.

Instead of trying to figure out which way the man had gone, William walked to his horse. He acted as if he adjusted the saddle, but paid attention to the edges of his field of vision. The moment the man stepped to the corner of the saloon, one of the other men stepped through the doorway.

William pulled the rifle from its scabbard on the saddle, but kept it between him and the horse. If they moved on, he didn’t want to shoot at them. Honestly, he didn’t want to shoot anyone at all. He only wanted information. He wasn’t so sure he would get it so easily from them.

They didn’t move on. He caught a glimpse of the one man’s face from the corner of his eye. They focused in on him. He had his confirmation, and he wouldn’t hide behind his horse anymore.

He stepped around the animal, levering a bullet into the chamber as he moved. “You two want to talk to me now, I see. No more whispering.”

“You were listening,” the man who left first said. “What do you want with Tommy after all this time? Why can’t you leave him alone?”

The first question didn’t surprise him, but the second did. What had he ever done to his brother? It was always the other way around. Of course that wouldn’t be the way Thomas would present it to his friends. “He’s the one who killed my wife. He burned my ranch to the ground. He shot my son in the back. He needs to pay for all of that.”

“Tommy wouldn’t do any of that,” the other man said. “You’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. He’s not the person you think he is. I just want to know where he is.”

“So you can go and kill him? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t want to kill him. I want to bring him in so he can pay for what he’s done.”

“How is that any better? He’ll still end up dead.”

William brought his rifle up before either of them could think to raise their pistols. “I don’t want to hurt either of you, but I will find out where he is.”

The two men looked at each other but didn’t glance back at him. It might be one against two, but an aimed and primed rifle at this distance could easily take at least one, if not both, of them out. The man who had kept quiet cracked first.

“He headed south. A couple days ago. Probably in Baggs by now. He’s got a girl over into Colorado somewhere. Probably went to see her.”

“That’s all I wanted,” William said and backed up to his horse. He would have to turn his back on these men, and William knew that would be a mistake. Still he backed around his horse so he could slip the rifle back into the scabbard. Up in the saddle, he looked back once at the men before leaning over the horse’s neck and kicking him into a gallop. He thought he’d hear a gun shot, but none came. He was sure he heard arguing, but then even that faded.

When he was away from town, he slowed his horse and turned him toward the south at a more moderate pace. He’d never been to Baggs, but he’d heard of it. North of Colorado on the Little Snake River. He glanced up toward the sinking sun. He’d never make it tonight even if he pushed his horse. The horse could use a rest anyway. He’d start south before making camp for the night. He wanted to catch Thomas but not at the expense of his horse.

“We’ll find him, boy. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

#

Four Mile Creek, Colorado

November 7, 1887

Thomas wasn’t in Baggs either. At least not anymore. No one would even tell William if they had seen him. It made him think Thomas’ friends lied to him. Until the clerk at the mercantile told him he’d seen a man who looked like him ride out the day before. That man hadn’t been around long, and after he’d ridden through, some of the residents had come up with possessions missing.

Sounded like Thomas.

He was tired. He’d been sleeping on the trail instead of staying in any of the towns he came to. Even when he laid down, he didn’t sleep. It wasn’t being on the ground. He’d done that plenty of times before without issue. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Anna again. Sometimes the way she had been before. Other times he saw the way she looked in that casket. Other times his brain tricked him and he saw her in ways he’d never seen her: bruised, bloody, and broken. Or David. He stood there, doing nothing, while his son faded away. He felt like he’d been buried by the guilt whenever he woke.

Easier to stay awake.

He left Baggs, heading east to Dixon, but no one there would admit to seeing Thomas. Leaving there, he headed southwest, crossing into Colorado. There hadn’t been much for towns between. A few cabins and a saloon thrown together didn’t exactly equal a town. Everything was open down here. He almost felt like a moving target.

He doused his campfire and saddled up his horse, ready to be on his way again. It started snowing the night before, and as he rode his horse out of the copse of trees he’d camped out in, the wind picked up, blowing some of those flakes into his face. He flipped the collar of his coat up and tried to sink deeper into its warmth. He needed to ride alert. He breathed a sigh of relief when the edge of a town came into sight. He didn’t want to take time away from tracking Thomas, but he also didn’t want to get stuck in a snowstorm with no shelter.

He urged his horse into a trot, not slowing until he passed the sign announcing the town of Lay, Colorado.

The wind drove snow up into his face as he dismounted in front of a saloon. He brushed the snow away with a gloved hand before wrapping the reins around the hitching post. He wasn’t worried about anyone stealing his horse. He was the only one the beast ever let sit on his back. Still, it gave him an extra assurance the horse would still be there when he came back out.