Chapter 3 - Fearing the Worst
Jim pushed his tired horse as fast as he dared. "Sorry, boy. It wasn't much of a rest, and I don't know when the next one might be." Jim rode for an hour until he stopped at the edge of a clearing. His horse's nostrils flared. He recognized something, but what? Then Jim saw them in the distance. Meandering, prancing, dancing. Wild horses. It was not the first time he'd seen such a sight, but given the horror of the morning, this struck him as more joyous than ever before. He wished he could have seen Kat's face when she saw them. If she'd seen them.
As much as he'd have liked to linger, Jim hurried forward. Unfortunately, the trail of the Barkley brothers had been obliterated by the hooves of the wild horses. Jim skirted along the edges of the clearing looking for trail turn offs that might prove promising. After a few minutes, Jim was confident he'd found Nick and Jarrod's trail. Jarrod's horse had a heavy right rear step that dug up far more turf than the left. Still, Jim's horse continued to flare his nostrils and began to pull him in a different direction. Jim let his horse lead. Was it Jim's imagination or did his horse seem to have reenergized since coming upon the wild horses?
They continued for nearly forty minutes. The debris on the forest floor suggested horses had been through here recently, but whose horses Jim couldn't say. Jim wondered if trusting his horse had been a smart idea. Then his horse began to pull him off the trail, into the woods. His nostrils flared more often. He began to whinny. Jim thought he heard a similar noise in the distance. His horse certainly did. He pulled Jim through brambles as if he was riderless. This was a new side to Jim's excitable and spirited horse. Jim trusted him though. He tucked low and let the horse lead.
Jim's horse suddenly reared. Jim was caught by surprise and slid off of his back. The horse darted forward. Jim pulled himself off the ground and gave chase. In a small clearing, Jim's horse was . . . nuzzling . . . you would have to call it frolicking . . . with Schumann. Jim felt a lightness at his horse's discovery. Jim began to call for Kat. No one responded. She had to be close. Schumann wouldn't go far from her . . . not unless . . . no, he just wouldn't.
The horses quieted after a couple of minutes. Jim approached Schumann. The horse remembered him. Those big nostrils! But how to get the horse to take him to Kat? Jim patted Schumann on the back. "Come on, where's Kat big fella? Find Kat."
Schumann didn't seem too interested at first. Then he started walking deeper into the woods before he stopped cold. A bark house was nestled against a tree. Jim moved to the side and crept toward the opening. The sobbing of a child and . . . the singing comfort of a mother . . . the language foreign . . . but not Indian. Russian? "Kat?" Jim said as he entered. The tableau inside confused him at once.
"Jim?" Kat stared in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
"Blame it on Artie."
"Huh?"
"I'll explain later. You explain now." A blondish man was lying down on an animal skin, his leg splinted, his eyes appearing feverish.
"Heath and I came up yesterday to check out the wild horses. He got clipped hard by a horse. His tibia snapped and he has a bad cut. I splinted the leg and patched up the cut, but there just wasn't time to get him back. We camped out in a cave last night. I got him on his horse this morning even though he started getting feverish, but as we rode we heard screaming. Then this little girl came running out right in front of us. I could barely rein Schumann back in time."
"Your arm?" Jim acknowledged the sling she'd fashioned. Jim removed it to take a look. "It looks dislocated."
"The girl was hysterical. She wanted nothing to do with Heath, but she let me hold her. I tried to get her up on Schumann with me to bring her back, but she fought me like the devil. She kept tugging me, trying to take me someplace. She brought me here. Oh Jim, how can human beings be so cruel?"
"What did you find?"
"About forty feet right of the hut, it must be her mother. Jim, it's beyond horrible. I knew I needed to find help, but I couldn't leave either of them to do it. The girl goes crazy if I try to leave the hut and Heath's fever's been getting worse. I didn't know what to do."
"Staying put may have been the smartest move possible, Kat," Jim said taking her in a firm embrace.
"What are you doing?"
"You'll thank me for this later. Try not to scream too loudly," he said before he quickly manipulated her shoulder back in to place. Kat bit into Jim's opposite shoulder to avoid screaming in pain, Jim's rawhide shirt kept her teeth from cutting through. "I'm going to go check on the mother, then I'll be right back. Do you have a gun?"
"Just that little one that you gave me."
"Take your friend's gun and keep it ready."
"What's out there, Jim?"
"People that scare even me, Kat."
It didn't take Jim long to confirm that the young Miwok's mother had been a victim of the escaped convicts. Jim's problem just got bigger: how to protect Kat, Heath and the girl while tracking those villains and also alerting Nick and Jarrod. He couldn't count on the shelter being safe for them. The convicts could return to it as a shelter for the night if they hadn't moved far.
Jim returned to the hut, only to be greeted by Kat's shaky gun hand aiming at him while the child clung for dear life behind Kat's leg. Jim took the gun from her. He hugged her again not releasing for thirty seconds.
"How could anyone be that awful? I think she saw it happen," Kat whispered.
"It's escaped convicts from state prison and I don't know where they are now. They could be far away or close by. Barkley's brothers are somewhere up here too, looking for you, and they don't know about these convicts. We could hole up and wait until we think it is safe, or we could try to get to help."
"Heath needs a doctor. His wound is infected."
"There are three of these men. We'd be very vulnerable out there. You could barely hold Heath's gun straight with your bad arm."
"I could handle the derringer."
"The derringer is great at a four foot range."
"That will teach them a lesson if they get too close."
"Good, I don't really like it when other men get too close to you."
"Me either," Kat whispered and kissed his ear.
"Wake up, Mr. Barkley, we're heading out of Dodge. Or into it. We'll see soon enough."
Health woke up groggy.
"Heath, my name is Jim West. Kat and I are going to get you on your horse. Since nothing is wrong with your hands, I'm going to ask you to hold your gun once atop the horse. Be ready to use it, assuming you are not so feverish you can't still recognize your brothers."
"Nick and Jarrod are here?"
"Somewhere not far, yes, possibly along with three escaped convicts who define the word 'nightmare'. Your brothers don't know about the convicts. Got it?"
"They killed the girl's mother?"
"Yes, and two folks up at Mountain House."
"Do we know where they are heading?"
"As far as I can tell, down this side of the mountain."
"Where are we heading?"
"We have to decide that. Danville is the closest town and probably the most sensible choice given your condition. How far do you think you can ride?"
"Put me on my horse. I'll stay up there until we reach Stockton if need be."
Jim laughed. He could see himself in Heath Barkley. He knew Heath meant what he said. Whether he could deliver was another question.
"There must be someplace closer to shelter?"
"Jonas Hill has a giant spread down the foothills of North Peak."
"Then we head that way. Kat, your job is to persuade the child to come with us. Do it fast because we need to get off this mountain before dark."
"Easy for you to say. She's already bitten me twice."
"I thought you liked . . . no never mind . . . let's get moving."
"I've missed you, Jim."
Jim winked before he led them outside to the horses and helped Heath and Kat — with the child wrapped around her chest like a vine — atop their horses. With the knowledge that his brothers were at risk, Heath seemed to rally. He found the shortest trail down the mountain, but had the good sense to let Jim lead.
Jim insisted on silence as much as possible so he could keep alert for sounds of the other Barkleys or the convicts. So far, they hadn't heard gunshots. He supposed that was a good thing, although the two at the hotel were killed with knives.
Jim's watchfulness kept the pace slow. The other brothers shouldn't be too far away, not unless they kept following the tracks of the convicts by mistake and the convicts were moving at a pace. If that was the case, they'd probably be on open ground by now and the Barkleys would realize their mistake. There would be gunshots likely then.
On the whole, Jim became cautiously optimistic that they might make it down the mountain without encountering the convicts. His worst nightmare hadn't yet come to fruition. After he'd seen what happened to Sally and the Miwok woman, he couldn't help but think what if it had been Kat. That, he knew, might have been the blow that broke him.
They persevered on at a measured pace. As troops go, they were a sorry bunch. The singular piece of good news was that the Miwok child had exhausted herself and slept. Then the gunshots began. Straight ahead and not very far either.
