Guarding the Mountain Man’s Secret (Brothers of Sapphire Ranch #7)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

A chill wind whipped the branches of the pines above Clara. Goosebumps peppered her exposed neck. The ride to the camp was much quieter without Miles at her side. Maybe she should have waited for him to come back from his search with his brothers for the person who’d killed their cow, but Holloway wouldn’t want the food to be late. She’d been able to load the meal into her saddle bags, so she’d not needed an extra horse to carry everything.

She guided her horse down the slope to the surveyors' camp, the two heavy pies shifting in her saddlebags as the animal maneuvered a steeper portion of the trail. Miles’s brother Jude suspected the survey crew.

But that couldn’t be the case. She would have known something to be amiss with the men by now, and they’d never shown a tendency to steal a bushelful of apples, much less an entire heifer.

As she rode across the creek, she squinted to see the camp through the trees. Several forms moved between the trunks. Were the men back already? It was only mid-afternoon. Surely, they’d not stopped working with so many hours of daylight left.

All four of them gathered around the fire, so maybe they’d come back to warm up. As she neared the edge of camp, Mr. Holloway rose and stepped toward her.

She reined in and jumped down to meet him.

"Miss Pendleton," he greeted, his voice gruff but not unkind. "We came back early, hoping to catch you."

She frowned. “Is everything all right?”

He raised his brows. "How's your uncle faring?"

Why ignore her question? She glanced at the other men. No one looked especially upset, just their usual sullen expressions. Except for kind Mr. Goodwin. He didn’t smile now, but his eyes looked bright and pleasant.

She turned back to Mr. Holloway and searched for a sign of what he wasn’t saying as she answered his question. “He had a fever yesterday, but it's lessened today. Dr. Coulter seems pleased with his recovery so far."

"Good, good." He nodded, but his tone lacked any real warmth. "I wanted to make sure I spoke with you. I have a job for you while you're staying at the ranch."

"Of course." She wondered what he might ask of her. "I have the maps caught up, and I’m ready to take back your notes from yesterday and today so I can add the new details. And I brought food." She motioned to her saddlebag.

Holloway called over his shoulder. “Goodwin, unpack the meal while I speak with Miss Pendleton.” Then he motioned for her to follow him a few steps away from her horse. "There's something else I need you to do.” His voice lowered as he continued. “Have you had much time to yourself at Coulters’? A chance to roam around the house when no one else is there?”

A tingle crept across her shoulders. What was he about to ask of her? She gave a small shake of her head. “There’s always someone around.”

Her reply didn’t douse the glimmer in his eye. “I’ll bet you can find a way to avoid being seen. Even if it’s in the middle of the night.” His voice dropped a little, forcing her to lean in to hear him. “I need you to find something. A paper Winston said is critical for the railroad. They need it at any cost.”

Winston. He was the big boss in charge of the surveyors.

She dared to ask, “You heard from him? Has someone been to town for messages?”

Now Holloway frowned. “No. This has been part of our orders from the start. I need you to find a paper Coulter would have stored in a safe place. A trunk maybe, or under a loose rock at the fireplace where it wouldn’t burn if the cabin caught fire.”

Her heart thumped as she tried to make sense of what he was asking. “What kind of paper? What’s on it?”

“It’s a deed. And it’s important we get it. If you’re not sure what you’re looking for, bring any documents you find to me and I’ll review them.”

Clara could only stare at him. "A deed? You want the deed to…what? Their ranch?” What kind of malarky was this?

The man raised both hands as though to placate her. “It’s not for me. Winston said it’s vital to the success of the railroad through these parts. As important as accurate maps, or maybe more so.”

What in earth’s name did the railroad want with the Coulters’ deed? Or rather, she could imagine what they wanted. The land. But without paying a fair price?

Her jaw had fallen open, but she closed it as a new thought slipped in. “Have you done this with all the other land we’ve surveyed? Did you steal their deeds too?” Her voice held a tone he might not like, but she couldn’t help herself.

Did Uncle Hiram know about this thievery?

He shook his head quickly. “No. There’s something special about this one. Something Coulter’s doing here that’s violated his right to the land. Winston said this is critical.” His expression shifted, his mouth softening but his eyes going cold. “Miss Pendleton, I’ve been authorized to do whatever necessary to obtain the deed. If you can’t get it for me, I’ll have to find a way to get it myself. If that means I have to eliminate a few Coulters…” He lifted a shoulder and let it drop—and the implication hung between them.

“Eliminate?” Her voice pitched high in a squeak. “What will you do to them?” She should stop asking questions, especially when she didn’t want to know the answers. But maybe she could find out Holloway’s plan and warn the Coulters.

Holloway's tone dropped, low and menacing. "We'll do what we have to. Pick them off one by one. Maybe starting with that younger fellow you seem to have taken a shine to."

She sucked in a breath. How could Mr. Holloway have noticed anything between her and Miles in those brief moments when they first went to the cabin? Unless they'd been spying on her. They might’ve done that yesterday when she and Miles rode here to deliver food.

The thought made her skin crawl.

She battled to keep her face impassive as her mind raced. She couldn't let any harm come to the Coulters, especially Miles. And she couldn't betray their trust by rummaging through their home and stealing the deed to their property.

There had to be another way. She needed to buy herself some time to figure out a plan.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to meet Holloway's cold gaze. "I'll…I'll see what I can do. But I need to find the right opportunity. I can't just go tearing the place apart with them there."

He gave a curt nod. "You have two days. I'll expect you to bring me that deed when you deliver our meals, day after tomorrow." His eyes narrowed. "And don't even think about double crossing me or tipping them off. It would be a real shame if a stray bullet found its way to your uncle during all the chaos."

His words sent a punch to her gut. Threatening her was one thing, but to bring gentle Uncle Hiram into this? Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. She refused to give the vile man the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

"I understand," she bit out. "I'll get you the deed. Just…leave my uncle out of this."

A cruel smile twisted his lips. "Glad we have an agreement. Now, I'll escort you back. Can't have you changing your mind along the way."

A weight pressed hard on her chest as she walked numbly to her horse.

Mr. Goodwin held the animal as she climbed back on the saddle. Did he know about Winston’s order to get the deed? Would he help enforce it?

His face held a pleasant expression, nothing menacing. But could she trust it? She’d been fooled all this journey. Now, she couldn’t be certain of anything where these men were concerned.

The thought brought up the question she’d meant to ask when she first arrived. A glance at Holloway showed him mounting his still-saddled horse. She aimed her question at Goodwin, but the others would likely hear. “Do you know anything about one of the Coulters’ cows who was killed and butchered in a pasture on the other side of their house?”

Mr. Goodwin tipped his head. “Can’t say as I do.” Was that a hint of a smirk on his face? She could be imagining it, but how could she know for sure?

She turned her horse back the way she’d come, a rock sinking in her stomach. What could she do? Betray the Coulters, or risk the lives of her uncle and the man she was growing to care for?

She flinched as Holloway trotted his horse up beside hers, and the animals settled into a steady walk.

Lord, show me what to do here.

One way or another, she had to find a way out of this impossible situation. The Coulters were depending on her, whether they realized it or not.

M iles crouched beside the remnants of a recent campfire, the acrid scent of ash still rising up from the black and white dust. He poked at the powder with a stick. No coals glowed still, but the few tracks around the area looked fresh. None of the underbrush had been flattened though. Had someone built this fire, stood beside it for a few minutes, then left? Why?

Jude studied the tracks.

“What do you make of it?”

His brother’s brow furrowed as he raised his gaze to scan the woods around them. “These look like moccasin prints. Not boots.”

"An Indian then? Why would he light a fire and leave so quickly? You think he just wanted to get warm? Was there only one?" It didn’t make him feel any better that he’d been right, or at least closer to accurate than his brothers. The surveyors wouldn’t have built a fire here. They had their own camp.

Jude's jaw tightened. "I don't like it. Feels like they were trying to draw attention, maybe lure someone out here."

A sharp crack echoed through the forest.

Miles jerked his head up, every muscle in his body on high alert.

"Was that a gunshot?"

Jude was already swinging up into his saddle. "It came from the house. Let’s go.”

Miles sprinted to his horse and leaped up, kicking the animal as he landed in the seat and grabbed his reins.

Another shot sounded, then two more in quick succession as his gelding stretched into a canter, racing behind Jude on the trail back to the barn.

Please, let everyone be all right, Lord.

As they burst into the clearing around the cabin, Gil appeared by the front door. He held a rifle aimed their way, but the moment he recognized them, he lowered the weapon and sent a worried scan around the edge of the clearing.

Miles pulled up behind Jude, keeping a grip on his rifle as he jumped to the ground. Behind Gil, the door cracked open, and two faces peered out, one atop the other. Dinah and Sean. Probably, the others stood right behind them, just as curious.

“What happened?” Jude held his own rifle in a position, ready to lift and fire.

Gil blew out a breath, his gaze still sweeping the trees. "I watched from the barn so I could see if anyone approached the house. A man crept out of the woods over there.” He motioned toward the tree line opposite from where Jude and Miles had come. “He was bent low, sneaking toward the house. I called out to him, but he wouldn't stop. Looked like an Indian, and not one I've seen around here before. He had markings painted on his face."

Miles exchanged a look with Jude. The abandoned campfire, the moccasin prints… It had to be the same man. But why would he risk skulking toward the house?

"I fired a warning round," Gil continued, "trying to get him to halt. But he shot back at me instead.” Gil shot a look behind him. “Dinah fired from the house, and he took off running.”

“Did you go after him?” Jude was already readying to mount his horse.

“I didn’t want to leave the house.” Frustration laced his tone. “Who knows if he was alone.”

His brother was right about not leaving the women and children, but someone needed to track the fellow.

Miles swung back up on his gelding, too, keeping his rifle ready.

Hoofbeats sounded before they could start forward, and they both paused to see the source.

Jericho broke through the tree line, Two Stones a half second behind him.

Jude didn’t wait to fill them in, just kicked his horse in the direction Gil had pointed. Miles followed. He’d never had to shoot at a person, but he’d do it if his brother’s life depended on it.

Jude kept his horse at a trot across the yard, studying the ground as he went. Miles also scanned the terrain but shifted his gaze up to the tree line around the clearing a few times to watch for movement.

“Ho!” Jude reined in sharp, then jumped from his saddle to study the ground.

Miles had ridden past, so he turned his gelding back.

It took only a moment to see the crimson staining the grass and the leaves of a tiny sapling. The dirt was packed so hard here that footprints weren’t discernable. But when Jude stretched a finger to touch the red grass, his skin came away scarlet.

His face turned grim as he glanced back at Jericho and Two Stones riding toward them, with Gil trotting on foot. “Blood. Looks like one of you hit him.”

While the others studied that area, Miles turned his horse toward the woods again and scanned the ground as the animal walked. He searched for footprints in the dirt, more drops of blood… Anything the man left behind that could help them.

He found nothing. Not a trace. Even when he entered the trees, where the leaves on the ground should be turned over from the man’s steps, no sign remained that anyone had traveled through here.

Two Stones caught up with him first, with the others trailing, including Jonah and Eric, who must’ve been filled in on the details. They searched each direction for more blood, broken twigs, churned leaves on the ground. Anything.

Yet not even Two Stones could find a sign of which way the stranger had gone. At last, they gathered at the edge of the clearing.

Two Stones’s brow had gathered in a troubled expression. “This man knows how to cover his backtrail. He is skilled in the ways of the forest."

"But why was he sneaking to the house? What does he want?" Jericho’s voice sounded as tight as Miles’s chest felt.

“We found a campfire in the trees below the north pasture.” As Miles filled the others in on the few details they’d seen, Two Stones shook his head.

“This does not follow the actions of a warrior. He is not of my people, this I know.”

“What tribe could he be then?” Jonah propped his hands at his waist.

Two Stones frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "I am not certain. But this man, he does not move like a warrior. And he is alone.” He squinted. “It reminds me of a man I knew once whose heart had become stone. His father was a Blood, his mother white. Hated by both peoples, he learned to hate all.”

A beat of silence passed before Jericho asked, “You think it might have been a man with mixed blood?”

Two Stones shrugged. “I only know this man’s actions are hard to explain, as that one’s were. Why would he bring harm to your animals and home if he does not know you? He cannot be hungry when the deer and elk are so many.”

Jericho let out a long sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair, scanning the area once more. “I guess we need to post a guard at each house for a while.”

Eric spoke for the first time. “Should some of us move closer to the main cabin? Maybe into the bunkroom? That way we aren’t as spread out.”

“Good idea.” Jericho turned to Jude. “There’s room for you and Angela too.”

Within minutes, they’d made a plan, and everyone headed back toward the cabin. All except Jericho and Two Stones, who would search farther into the wilderness for the man’s trail. They had been best friends since Dat and Mum moved their family from Kansas to this mountain. Jericho could track as well as Two Stones these days.

Miles led his horse as he strode back with the rest of the men—and Sean. But halfway across the clearing, Gil halted and spun to face him, eyes wide. “Miss Pendleton. She took the food to the surveyors’ camp.”

“Alone?” A cold dread tightened Miles’s gut. Clara was out there with a hostile stranger roaming the woods. He spun to loop his reins over his gelding’s head. "I have to go find her."