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“I thank you for what you have done for me,” he said, then slowly eased his hand from hers.
He nodded over the fire toward her blanket, then again gazed into her eyes.
“Go now,” he softly encouraged. “Sleep in peace. I shall do the same. Tomorrow is another day, but tonight we must rest.”
Nicole smiled sweetly at him, then rose and walked over to where she had spread the blanket for herself earlier. She stretched out on the blanket, sighed, and was soon fast asleep.
Chapter Eleven
The moon scarcely showed through the smoke that continued to rise from the burned town of Tyler City. As Jeremiah and his friends rode toward the grayish haze that lay heavy in the air, he knew that he had found the city that had been erased from the map in a single day.
As Jeremiah rode into what remained of the city, his horse’s hooves scattered ash on both sides of him. He gasped as his lungs were filled with the stench of burning wood and death.
His eyes filled with tears as he looked from body to body. The glow of the moon pushed its way through the ash-filled air, showing Jeremiah and his friends just how horrendously the people of this new little town had died.
They had not had a chance against those who had come with hate in their hearts. Not a soul had been spared. He mourned for these people who had surely risen from their beds for a new day this morning with hope and love, and dreams of tomorrow.
Then Jeremiah recalled his purpose in coming to this horrific scene of death in the first place. For a moment the lovely woman had been forgotten in his horror at the bodies lying on the ground all around him.
“Nicole Tyler,” he whispered to himself as he glanced over at a sign bearing the name Tyler City, which had somehow made it through the devastation intact.
Yes, this had been Nicole’s destination. He had found out that much about her during their time together in the stagecoach. She had planned to join her parents there and become this small community’s schoolteacher.
“A community bearing her family’s name, no less,” he said, looking over at Jacob, who sat on his horse beside Jeremiah. “Jacob, it seems there were no survivors.”
“Unless those who did survive managed to escape without being seen,” Jacob said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Lord a’mighty, Jeremiah, who could be so evil? How could anyone hate so much that they had no mercy on anyone?”
Jeremiah swallowed down vomit as he again looked slowly around him. “It’s certain there are no survivors here,” he said hoarsely. “But still, perhaps some escaped the wrath of those madmen. Perhaps Nicole arrived here after the massacre was over and then fled for her life, fearing the killers might find her there, alone.”
“They might even now still be near and see us gawking at what they left behind,” Jacob said, fear in his eyes and voice. “Jeremiah, we’d best head back for home. What if those who did this go to our little community and do the same? Lord a’mighty, Jeremiah, they might be there even now. Our women and children…”
“Do not borrow trouble, Jacob,” Jeremiah said. “I believe the killers are far, far away now, avoiding being caught by the cavalry. Isn’t there a fort anywhere near here?”
“No. If there were, the cavalry would be here now, burying the dead,” Jacob said tightly.
“As it is, that chore has been left to us, for there is no way that I could ever rest again without knowing that we did the right thing,” Jeremiah said.
“But, Jeremiah, the risk we would be taking by taking time to bury the dead is too great. Surely it’s not worth losing our own lives,” Jacob argued. “We have our wives and children to consider. Let’s go home, Jeremiah. Let’s go home now.”
Jeremiah ignored Jacob’s whining as he dismounted. He was so glad that the others who had come with them had not spoken out. They just sat on their horses, stunned and quiet.
“Come on,” Jeremiah said, looking from man to man. “There has to be a shovel somewhere. Maybe even more than one. We must start digging graves. Now!”
The men dismounted and secured their horses’ reins to a hitching rail that stood some distance away from the burned buildings. They found three shovels in the ashes and started digging graves beneath the moonlight.
“I wonder if Nicole arrived here just in time to be killed with the others?” Jeremiah worried aloud, ignoring Jacob’s frown.
Jeremiah laid his shovel aside, and fighting the urge to vomit again, he went to the first person that would be placed in the shallow grave he had managed to dig.
He swallowed hard, then grabbed the man by what was left of his wrists. He dragged the body over and rolled it into the grave. The other men followed suit.
“Indians sure didn’t do this,” Jeremiah said to Jacob as they each began digging another grave, side by side. “There were no arrows. That surely means this was done by white men, but what I don’t understand is how could white men hate other white people so much that they would kill them so heartlessly? Why would they do this? We Mormons teach love, not hate.”
“Jeremiah, you know as well as I that there is much hate in this world,” Jacob said, stopping to rest a moment as he leaned against his shovel. “It is not something that anyone can ever figure out. Let’s just get this done and return home to those we love. We can’t let anything like this happen to our peaceful little community.”
“Yes, you’re right,” Jeremiah said, stopping his digging when the grave was deep enough. He dreaded with every fiber of his being having to drag another body over to it. “Jacob, surely Nicole Tyler is still alive somewhere, for I don’t see her body here.”
“Unless she is one of those that can’t be identified because of how badly they are burned,” Jacob suggested softly.
