Authors: Michael McLellan
“What in the hell happened, Tal?” Toby Martin said striding up to the stableman. “Heath and I were going to ride in this evening to drop off some ham shanks at Brodie’s, and find out what had went on. We saw smoke yesterday, a lot of it, and knew that
something
happened, but it appears that whatever it was wasn’t just a building fire was it?”
“No, dammit Toby, it wasn’t—”
“My word, Toby Martin, let’s get these folks in out of the sun and give them something cool to drink before they collapse from the heat stroke,” Miranda Martin interjected before Tal could finish.
“Of course, Mama, we’ll do just that, there will be time later for the story. Come in everyone,” Toby Martin said, gesturing with a sweep of his arm toward the front door.
The group filed into the large living area of the house that the Martins called the great room. It was adorned with several large tanned leather sofas and chairs to match. The house was hundreds of years old and a great many of the furnishings were from what people just called
the old days
, meaning the days before the catastrophe that had destroyed so much.
While everyone was seating the two Mrs. Martins hurried off to the kitchen to prepare refreshments. Toby Martin asked his son to go fetch a bottle of whiskey for the men.
“No thank you, Toby, just water please, I’m as dry as a summer lightning storm,” said Tal.
“I wouldn’t mind a snort myself,” responded Jonus.
The women returned with two pitchers of cool tea, and a platter of small cakes and cheese. Heath Martin came in moments later with a bottle and several small glasses. With everything laid out on the large wooden coffee table and the children already digging in to the first food that they had seen in over twenty four hours, Toby Martin looked at Tal Miller and asked “What in the name of god happened, Tal?”
“Best not be told in front of the young-uns Toby.” Tal said looking at Toby seriously.
“Dalia, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind taking the kids to the yard to finish their snacks. Maybe they would like to ride the swing?”
“Okay daddy.” She responded, a faint look of disappointment on her face.
“I’ll go with her dad, you can fill me in later,” said Heath, as he stood, draining his whiskey glass and setting on the table.
“I think that maybe I’ll take Marion out as well.” Lisa Maccarron said with a glance at Tal, who nodded imperceptibly. When they were gone, leaving Toby and Miranda Martin, Tal and Martha Miller, Jonus Hemphill, Molly Renfew, and Zack, Tal began.
He started with how he, his family, and Jonus had come across the other three women and the children when they had been running up the dry wash to get away from the riders. He ended with the talk that he and Jonus and Zack had at the Docs place. Zack filled in his part of the story, leaving out the cave.
The room was completely silent for several minutes after Tal and Zack were finished. Finally Toby Martin spoke. “What kind of men can do something like this?” he said, shaking his head. He poured himself a whiskey and drank it at a draught. Setting down his glass and looking at all of the shocked faces before him, he poured a glass for everyone and passed them out. ‘Well firstly, you are all welcome in this house for as long as you like. At least until we all decide what to do. The town worked as kind of a closed system for the most part, although we do rely a little on traders coming through, and the occasional trip to Auburn. We could have got along okay alone put up against a wall. But now… I bet not a one of us could fashion a horseshoe or spin cotton, and the next town is five days hard riding without a wagon. With a wagon…” he trailed off. “What I am trying to say,” he continued, “is that we may have to move to Herald’s Ford, or Auburn eventually. Anyway, that’s for later, right now we need to think about going back and tending to the dead, and maybe figuring out how to stop young Zack here from becoming dead himself.”
Molly Renfew spoke up, “We also have two grievin women here, Lisa Mccarron is holding up pretty well, she has her boys at least but Kate Lanhope is alone, and not doin well at all.”
“We will take care of them both, Molly.” Miranda Martin replied. Molly Renfew had a small place just up from the Lanhope’s, she had never taken a husband and lived alone, many of the townspeople thought her strange and unfriendly.
Toby Martin said, “Well, Miranda, what do you think about recruiting that young couple of ours and drawing some baths for these folks? I want to speak with Zack here a moment and then I’ll bust that little quarter pig out of the smokehouse for supper.”
“I think that might make everyone feel a bit better, Toby,” replied his wife.
Toby Martin and Zack took seats in the wooden chairs on the Martins front porch, each with a glass of tea in their hand. Zack took a sip of his tea and waited for Mr. Martin to say what he wanted to say. For a minute the man just sort of stared over his glass at Zack and he felt as though he was being measured. It was difficult for Zack to hold his gaze, but he did. Even at sixty some odd years the rancher was an imposing figure, with his muscular build, iron gray hair and sun-weathered face. After a time he finally spoke, “You’re an image of your folks, tall and a little wild like your pa, and green eyed, sandy-haired and thoughtful like your ma. Zack,” he said, “would you consider just staying on here with us? I know that dealing with what has happened to your ma is difficult, but going after her is most likely suicide, and you can’t know for certain whether or not she is even still alive. There is a real possibility that she’s in that church with the others regardless of what Tal thinks, after all, it was a second hand story from a traveling stranger, who knows how much of it is true.”
Zack looked the older man in the eye and said simply, “I have to find out sir.” Toby stared at Zack silently again for what seemed like a long time.
“I see that you are set in your mind,” he said, “I will do what I can for you if you will make me one promise.”
“If I can.” Zack said.
“I just want you to try and get your ma out, and anyone else from town if there is anyone. Don’t go for revenge or you’ll be just as dead as the folks in that church and you won’t do your ma or anyone else any good. Track ‘em like you was hunting with your pa, take your time and gauge their movements and their habits. Then when the time is right, as right as can be anyway, try and rescue them… at night if you can. Do I have your word?”
“Yes sir,” Zack answered.
“ Fair enough,” Toby said getting up. “Let’s go get you a bath and then we’ll have some supper. Tomorrow morning I’ll outfit you with a horse and some gear. Probably going to get yourself killed.” he said the last shaking his head. “And stop calling me sir, it’s Toby from now on.” He said over his shoulder walking into the house.
The next morning dawned warm, and promised to be hotter than the previous day. It started for Zack when Toby walked into one of the house’s many spare rooms where Zack and Jonus had been sleeping and dropped a bundle on the floor waking them. “There’s a bedroll, and a change of clothes in there that belonged to Heath when he was younger. Looked to me like they’d fit you fine. Miranda has packed a few days worth of food in some saddlebags. There’s coffee on the stove.” With that he turned and walked out.
The kitchen was buzzing with activity as Zack poured himself and Tal a cup of coffee. Jonus had declined the coffee and sat down with the children at the big kitchen table and awaited the breakfast about to be served by Miranda, Dalia and Tal’s wife Martha. Zack, never much of an early morning eater chose to take his coffee out to the porch where Tal joined him after grabbing a couple of biscuits from the table.
“Yer mind is made up?” Tal asked.
“It is, Tal. I have to see if my mother is alive, and if she is I have to try and save her. Her and whoever else is with them,” he said, thinking of Emily, Santiago and Michael.
“Well, good luck to ya then, my thoughts will be with ya.” Tal said, with a troubled expression, then getting up and walking back into the house.
Zack was just finishing his coffee and thinking about looking for Toby Martin so he could be on his way when Toby came around the corner of the house. “Horse is ready whenever you are, Zack,” he said.
“Ready now sir….I mean, Toby,” Zack said, putting down his coffee cup and walking down the porch to the side yard where he followed Toby Martin to the stable. “This is Grace,” Toby said, showing Zack to a dark brown horse. “She’s eight years old and one of the best of a good lot. She can run like the wind for miles if you work her up to it first, and mind you rub her down real good after. She’ll take care of you if you take care of her. There’s a bag of oats there on the back of the saddle but there’s plenty of forage for the next fifty miles if they stuck to the main road. So you can save ‘em until you need ‘em.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Zack said, feeling like he should be saying more.
“You can thank me by coming back, preferably with your ma- and bring Grace back with you.
“I’ll do my best,” Zack said, stroking the mare’s neck.
“Then get on your way, no sense in bringing all the women folk to tears. God be with you.”
Zack saw that Toby had already tied on his bedroll and that his backpack was hanging from the saddle horn. He mounted the mare, gave Toby Martin a nod and rode out of the stable.
3
Zack had never owned a horse of his own but Santiago’s father was a breeder and Zack rode with Santiago and their friend Michael often. He took the mare overland in the direction of the north/south road, his thoughts a jumble of conflicting emotions; fear and anger fought for the forefront with sadness for the murdered and apprehension for his mother, Emily, and whoever else might have been taken. Santiago and Michael? Possibly; Santiago’s father’s place was just a quarter mile south of town and it was obvious that the gang of riders had come in from that direction.
In an hour he had made it to the north/south road and turned northward to follow the trail of the riders. They had less than a two day head start and were burdened with wagons. Zack hoped that he could catch up to them at nightfall the following day and either make a move if the opportunity arose or watch their movements for a day and use the time to come up with a plan. He currently wished for a hat; the sun, although it wasn’t even midday yet promised a good burn to his face before evening.
He stopped just after noon at a small pond used as a watering hole for travelers on the road. There was a clump of scrub oaks next to it which provided the only shade for miles in both directions. Payne’s Station sits right at the base of foothills that rise to the mountains but the road north steadily veers away from them. Grassland dominates the terrain from just outside of town to about sixty miles north where one mountain range meets another and the north/south road continues on through a pass. Auburn and Herald’s Ford were on the other side.
Zack let Grace drink her fill and graze around the water hole while he made a meal out of some jerked beef and dried fruit that the Martins had provided. He drank sparingly from the canteen as he didn’t want to have to fill it in the pond. It was obvious that the gang had stopped here from all of the torn turf and horse leavings. He knew that there was a stream that comes down from the mountains another ten miles or so up the road. The running water from the high peak snowmelt was cleaner and tasted better. This was all beside the fact that he somehow felt repulsed drinking out of the same hole as those men.
Zack looked up from his place under the trees and saw that Grace had wandered a good distance away from the pond. Suddenly worried about her running off he called out “Grace!” and gave a short whistle. The mare looked up immediately and trotted back around the pond to the copse of trees where Zack stood. “That’s a good girl,” Zack said softly, impressed with the animal already. The mare took a step forward and nudged his shoulder, Zack laughed and rubbed her cheek a little. “Okay, let’s go then.”
The horse had cooled down so Zack took it easy at first and worked her up slowly from a trot, to a gallop, to a run. The road was dusty but smooth and the mare was as easy to ride as any he had ever been on. His shoulder-length hair blew back behind him and the grassland went by as a blur. Despite the pain, the fear and all that had happened, Zack felt momentarily free.
He reached the stream with a couple of hours to spare before nightfall and decided to make camp in a depression in the otherwise flat grassland. The depression was a hundred yards or so off of the road and the stream ran right through it. Zack didn’t know anything about tracking people but he was an unusually sharp young man and imagined that a campfire out here in the flatland could be seen a long way off at night. The last thing he wanted was for the gang to know that they were being followed.
First he removed the saddle and bridle from Grace and rubbed her down before leaving her to graze. Based on his experience with her earlier he felt no need to hobble her. It was a boys thought maybe but he felt trust in the animal not to leave him. He considered giving her some oats but thought better of it. If he wasn’t able to rescue his mother before they reached the mountains then the oats may be all that he had to feed her. Next he hiked up the stream bank and foraged for wood washed down from the mountains with the winter rains and the heavy spring snowmelt. It was easy pickings as he only intended a small fire.