Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The man that emerged was a scrawny, hard-bitten creature, dressed all in black, from stovepipe hat to dusty boots. His clothes were ragged and so old, Caleb figured this preacher had to be an honest man. Or the worst sermonizer west of Jerusalem.
He was leading a broken-down mule that must have been old when Noah passed over him before the Flood.
That beast was little more than a bag of bones and, coming out of the mine, the mule wore an expression of weary resignation as he eyed Caleb.
But as soon as he saw the string of horses, the animal’s long ears pricked up, and he shot a look at them that was positively venomous.
The preacher was unarmed except for a five-shot Colt Baby Dragoon in a holster strapped to the mule.
He had a long, drawn face as wrinkled and brown as an old, dried walnut.
A gray moustache drooped around a frowning mouth and thin whiskers hung like a goat’s beard beneath his chin.
His brown eyes were clear and alert. Like his mule, though, he wore a tired and stoic expression, and Caleb guessed the man had looked down the barrel of a gun more than a few times before.
Even in the darkness, he looked to be the ugliest fella Caleb had ever run across.
“Mind if I lower my hands?” Preacher asked. “These old bones can’t take being raised for too long.”
Caleb nodded. “Just open that coat of yours. I don’t want to see you pull any weapons out of there.”
Preacher did as he was told. “I do carry a knife in my boot, and my old pistol up there.” He pointed to the holstered Colt on the mule. “But that’s all. I have a higher power that protects me.”
“That may be so, Preacher. But I reckon the same higher power also looks after the hungry grizzlies I’ve seen up in these mountains.”
The minister sighed and looked at his mule. “This ornery old cuss and I have been traveling through these hills for nigh on ten years, and I reckon we’re both too old and too tough even for a grizzly to chew on.”
“Ten years, you say?” Caleb holstered his twin Colts. “So you know the country out beyond the pass?”
“I do, indeed, stranger. I’ve been carrying the Good Word to the heathen, the devout, and the fallen throughout this entire wilderness.
Though I can attest to the fact that there are more of the fallen out here than anything else.
So, from camp to camp, I roam and will continue to do so until I go to my eternal reward. ”
“Well, if you’d been any slower in answering me just now, you’d have claimed that reward this very night.”
“Maybe so, but not one sparrow falls without it being His will, so the Book says.”
“So I hear,” Caleb replied, feeling an old anger sparking within him. “But I can tell you a flock of sparrows went down this day, so maybe it ain’t worth pressing the issue.”
He’d heard men—and one in particular—use Scripture to explain away too many cruelties. Some memories had a way of rising up when least invited.
“I heard the shooting.”
“And decided to stay clear of it?”
“Yep.” The old man looked at Caleb, sizing him up. “I don’t think you intend to shoot me, though.”
“We’ll see. But for right now, I want you to come with me.”
“What for?”
“I think you’re a fella I’d like to talk to,” Caleb said. “And not about any sparrows.”
He walked to the lead horse and took hold of the bridle. The preacher followed along, muttering the whole way, and Caleb couldn’t tell whether he was praying or talking to his mule. Not far along, the path descended through a gulley and came out on the trail, close to where Pirate was tethered.
By the time they reached the place where the fight had taken place, Zeke had returned with their three horses and was laying blankets over the bodies of his dead friends. Everett had started a fire.
Seeing the string of horses Caleb was leading was surprising enough, but the sight of the traveling minister and his mule was almost more than Zeke could comprehend.
At first wary that the man might have been part of the gang of bushwhackers, the fierce little miner needed a few moments for his suspicions to be allayed.
Luckily, Everett had heard of the itinerant preacher who made these mountains his church and the folk living up here his congregation.
Everett and the preacher started beans and biscuits for the four of them.
The moon was just on the rise, so Caleb and Zeke led the horses up the trail a ways to a spring-fed creek where they let them drink and graze on the long grass, silver in the moonlight.
“How did you move that sorrel of yours, Zeke?” Caleb asked while they sat on a fallen log and waited.
“Everett took hold of one hoof and I took the other, and we rolled her. Only took the once, and she went sliding down that slope into the darkness there. My heart broke a little, watching her go, let me tell you.”
They sat watching the horses for a few moments until Caleb broke the silence.
“Tomorrow, we’ll put those friends of yours up on these horses, and you and Everett can take them back to Elkhorn.” He gave Zeke the money he’d found on the ambushers. “This should take care of the undertaker.”
Zeke nodded and said nothing more for a while. Eventually, they talked about the mines and Doc and the arrival of his daughter. The miner knew nothing about Sheila.
Caleb regretted not stopping and talking to her before leaving town. He figured it wouldn’t help her, knowing her father had been taken by outlaws. Still, it might have given her a little peace of mind to know Caleb was also out there searching for him.
And he did not much like imagining her alone in Doc’s house, measuring every sound in the street and waiting for news no one had the courage to give her.
When they could smell beans and coffee in the air, they brought the horses back to the camp and readied them for the night.
As they ate, Preacher proved to be a garrulous fella.
He and Everett could both talk the ears off a tin jackass, and once the minister took the bit in his teeth, he was off and running.
After he’d gone on for a while, Caleb decided it was time to steer him in the direction he wanted the man to go. It didn’t take much to do it.
“Ten years, you said you’ve been preaching to the folk up in these hills,” Caleb said.
“That I have, pilgrim. In summer and in winter, in sickness and in health…” He paused and chuckled. “Sounds a bit like a marriage, don’t you think? And in a way, I suppose it is a marriage of sorts. Like a husband to his wife, I made a commitment to my folk out here and—”
“And there’s a good number of miners still working claims up here?”
“Not as many as there once was. A lot of the old mines are abandoned and the camps deserted.” Preacher helped himself to more coffee. “But there’s still a few hardy souls out there, sure that they’ll strike it rich as Croesus one day.”
Caleb realized that Zeke and Everett saw what he was trying to get at. As they listened, they just sat back, nursed their cups, and stared into the fire.
“Must be dangerous out here, though, traveling alone as you do.”
Preacher raised his bony shoulders. “From what I recollect, a man can get into a peck of trouble in the towns too. I know that was true for me, before I found my calling. Out here, there’s no laws to get a man’s back up.
Except, of course, the laws in the Book I take to them.
But when a man is digging for his fortune and minding his own business, those ten laws are not so tough to keep. ”
Caleb frowned. “You know your flock, Preacher. But five fellas laid in wait here today. And I think them laws of yours say something about not killing.”
“As I said, friend, there are quite a few of the fallen out here as well.”
“Then you know that with all the deserted camps and the rugged lay of the land, more than a few outlaw gangs have taken to hiding out up here.”
Preacher fixed his gaze on Caleb’s face. “You a bounty hunter, pilgrim?”
He shook his head. “I ain’t. But I am looking for some road agents that have been helping themselves to every Wells Fargo stage they can lay their hands on.”
The minister said nothing for a moment.
“I believe one of them laws in your Book refers to stealing,” Caleb added, prompting him.
Preacher nodded. “I know who you mean. You’re talking about some fellows who waylay only Wells Fargo stagecoaches.”
“Those would be the fellas.”
“Well, as it happens, in my travels I’ve gotten to know those men somewhat.
I’ve been to their camp a half dozen times.
I’ve sat with them at their fire, just like this.
I’ve broken bread with them. Even prayed with a couple of them.
And I know a few other things about them.
I’ll tell you one thing, these are good men. ”
“Good men?” Caleb felt his temperature rising. “Do you also know that this gang killed the driver and the guard in a robbery a few days ago. And they may have a passenger they wounded, as well. But we can’t be sure, cuz he’s missing.”
“No, friend,” Preacher retorted adamantly. “These are not killers. They don’t go out hurting others. I know them.”
“You may think you do,” Caleb snapped. “But they also have a friend of mine, a doctor. And the chances are they killed a miner who helped them take Doc.”
Saying it aloud sharpened the fear he’d been carrying since Patterson’s office. Doc was a stubborn old cuss, but stubborn men could die same as anyone. Sometimes quicker.
He paused as that information sank in.
“So I would be much obliged if you could tell us exactly where these fellas are holed up.”
A troubled frown creased the minister’s face. “This must be someone else. Someone who is trying to drag down their name. It’s not them, I tell you.”
“And I’m telling you, it is.”
Preacher glanced at Zeke and Everett, but their hard faces offered no help.
“I want to know where this gang is holed up,” Caleb demanded.
The minister tossed the remainder of his coffee into the fire and chewed on those words for a bit. Putting his cup on the ground, he pulled at his goat beard, took off his hat, batted some dirt from it, and jammed it back on his balding pate.
“That is the one thing that I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Two reasons, mainly,” he replied.
Caleb’s patience was worn about as thin as a demon’s promise. “I’m waiting.”
“First, once you travel out through the pass here, the land is wild and uncharted. I don’t think I could give you good directions to find them.”
“Ten years, Preacher. I reckon you can.”
The minister hesitated, looking away evasively. But when he spoke again, he held Caleb’s gaze.
“Second, I’m a man of God. These fellows—and a few other outfits that have taken up residence out beyond the Devil’s Claw—they trust me. If I betray that trust, my mission out there is finished. So you can beat me or kill me, pilgrim, but I’ll never give that up.”