It took grit.It took heart.And, though Caleb knew better than to say it aloud, it made her beautiful in a way no fine dress or fancy New York parlor party ever could.
“All right.I have a job for you.But you have to follow it every step of the way.”
“Absolutely.I’m excellent at following directions.”
Caleb doubted it, but he was willing to give it a try.
ChapterThirty-Four
As Caleband Sheila started back toward his horse, a chill breeze began to pick up, and above them, across the vast expanse of star-studded blackness, ragged plumes of clouds moved quickly in a procession.Shadows raced across far-off peaks, and the distant cry of a wolf was answered by another, even more distant.
Caleb steered wide around the corpse at the top of the hill, and he turned to see how Sheila was doing.It was difficult to determine with the wide brim of the hat putting her face in shadow.But her footsteps were quick and sure, and she didn’t lag behind.They moved carefully down the rocky hillside, holding branches of scrub pine.
The skies had been so clear over the past week or so, but Caleb thought that any added shadow could be a help to them.They needed to use the darkness.Surprise would be their greatest advantage.
They reached the place where he’d tethered his mount.Taking his Winchester from its scabbard, he hesitated and then turned to Sheila.
“You ever shot a gun?”he asked, keeping his voice low.
“Many times.I used to go target shooting all the time in New York.”
He reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled a pistol out the holster of a rolled gun belt.The short-barreled Colt Gunfighter had belonged to one of the bushwhackers who ambushed Zeke and Everett and the others.He held it up, and the barrel gleamed like silver fire in the moonlight.
“I’ll trade you this gun for the one in your duster.That toy would be lucky to hit a barn door ten feet away.”
He waited as she dug the derringer out of her pocket.
“I don’t want you shooting anything unless you have to,” he said as they exchanged weapons.“But I want you to have it for your protection.”
She slipped it into the duster.
Her hand was steady when she took it.Caleb noticed that.After everything she’d endured, she still had enough grit to listen, understand, and do what needed doing.
“Now, let’s go do what we planned.”
The two skirted the hill, following the trail leading into the camp.When they reached the clearing, Caleb led her into the deep shadows of an abandoned shack.Silently, they crept up until he could see the entire camp.
Before the Wells Fargo road agents took it for their own, the place had been a mining camp.The layout resembled a large, elongated horseshoe, with the trail entering at the left side of the heel.At the top-most point in the shoe, the abandoned gold mine gaped like the open maw of a long-dead giant.
Amid piles of gravel and dust in the center of the camp, derelict carts, barrels, rocker boxes, and cradles, long toms, and broken wheelbarrows had been dragged out and dumped and left to decay.The winter snows and the rains and the summer suns had clearly done their work, and remains of former industry lay scattered and broken.Caleb supposed they would have provided fuel for fires if the mine had continued to produce, but his thoughts now dwelled on how they could be used for cover in the upcoming fight.
A long sluicing trough, broken now in four or five places, stretched from the front of the mine to a wide creek that ran behind the buildings opposite where Caleb crouched with Sheila.Halfway down the untidy row of buildings on their left, the makeshift corral held the small herd of horses.That was where he would position Doc’s daughter.Hopefully, out of harm’s way.
Almost directly across from the corral, perhaps fifty yards or so, the sheriff’s men sat jawing around the fire.Their rifles were visible, propped up and handy for use, should the need arise.Beyond the men and the fire, he could see the open door of the shack where Sheila thought her father was being held.Lamplight still glowed from inside, and wisps of smoke drifted from the stovepipe.
To the right of the occupied shack, two burned-out buildings stood together.Charred corner posts and black roof joists, sitting askew where they’d fallen, were all that remained.Next to them, another shack had fared slightly better.Only the roof had collapsed, and the walls still stood, silvery in the moonlight.From there, at the open heel of the horseshoe, the pine-covered hill led upward to the ledge where he found Sheila.
Caleb had his plan set in his mind.
Then, just as he started to draw back, a figure appeared in the door of the shack, silhouetted by the light behind him.It was Horner, talking to someone inside, standing and holding on to his lapels like the Lord Mayor and looking like the cock of the roost.
Caleb gestured for her to go to the left.They moved together behind the buildings, staying low and keeping to the shadows when they could.It took only a few moments to reach the building behind the corral.
He left her at a corner where she could see the mine entrance and the place where a pile of gravel partially hid the long trough.That was where she was to remain until she saw him move into position there and signal to her.
She gave one short nod, all resolve and no complaint.Caleb wanted to tell her to be careful.Wanted it with a force that surprised him.But there was no time, and too many words could get them both killed.
Caleb moved quickly from the back of one building to the next.When he reached the last one—a dilapidated storehouse for hay and grain—he peered across at the men around the fire.They were still lounging.The doorway of the shack was empty, and the sheriff was nowhere to be seen.
