Deep Trouble (15 page)

She was actually starting to design the dress and pick out costumes for the card sharps she’d hire—and not having that much fun doing it—before Cutter moved again.

“This is the way they had to come.” Cutter rose and looked forward, scowling. “It’s about a five-day trip that goes to the southern rim of the canyon. There are known waterholes. There’s no way across the canyon straight west. You have to go around. To the north is desert. It’s a mean trip, a’course south ain’t no easy stroll through a park. To the west, a dead end. To the east, they’d’ve run into us.

“You’re sure this is their only choice?” Randy had gotten more and more smug and sarcastic as the day wore on.

Cutter turned on Randy, his temper shorter as the hot, dry day stretched. “You want to take over tracking?”

Fighting to keep a leash on her own temper, Lurene stepped in before a fight broke out. “What do we do? Keep pushing? Hope we find a sign? Just because you don’t see one doesn’t mean they didn’t come this way. Rocky ground. Wind blowing across what few places would show tracks. If they had to go this way, then they must have.”

Lurene looked back at a green area still visible a mile back. They’d filled their canteens and taken a break in the shade for a couple of hours. She hadn’t minded getting out of the worst heat of the day, but there was still plenty of heat left.

“I’m not wrong.” Cutter kicked at the heavy dirt in this sheltered spot. “This trail is narrow. There’s no wind. Anyone heading this way would have to pass in this sandy soil, and they’d’ve left tracks. Even if they tried wiping them out, I could tell. Nope, we lost ‘em. I think we’re gonna need to go back. I saw where they left the trail to turn south. I know they started this direction, but somewhere they turned off. We’ve got to go back.”

Lurene noticed the sun lowering in the sky. Another day wasted.

“Ready to forget all about that city of gold?” Randy sneered.

Cutter looked up. He made no sound, but Lurene felt as if they had a cornered wildcat in their group. He was furious, hot, frustrated, and tired of this. And they were completely dependent on him. Lurene thought of just riding away. Strike out for California. This trail would take them there.

John Jacob Astor, John Jacob Astor, John Jacob Astor
. “It’s not about a city of gold anymore, and you know it. It’s about the woman having a stack of gold coins in her pack and plenty more where that came from.”

Randy turned on her. “Maybe, but I don’t know much about kidnapping. The more I think of it, the more I don’t see how it’s gonna work.”

Randy’s smug question got her stubbornness up. “Go on west if you want. You don’t want to stick your neck out to get your hands on a woman who’s wandering around out here defenseless. Kin to one of the richest families in the country. You go if you want to. But that city woman tricked me when she switched those maps. I’m not inclined to forget it.”

“Maybe she didn’t figure she owed you much, what with Cutter threatening to throw her off that cliff and Ginger knocking her down and leaving her bleeding.”

“She figured wrong then.” Lurene reined her horse roughly, for one short second hating the heat and the stinking animal.

Then she remembered her life back in St. Louis. Plenty of heat there, and the stinking animals were all the woman-hungry men she’d had to endure. An almost maniacal desperation not to return to that life stiffened her resolve. “I think she owes me plenty, and I mean to make her pay.”

Turning, she headed to the green behind her. “I’m going to keep tracking her then make her look back fondly on the day she was left to die in a sky-high cave.”

W
ait a minute!” Shannon pulled her map out of her pocket. “We need to keep heading straight west here.”

“Trail bends south. That’s the way into the canyon.” Hozho pulled her horse up, turned, and rode back even with Hosteen. The two of them seemed part of the land. Their weathered faces, their clothing worn and faded until it was more the color of the stone than whatever it had once been.

“No, I recognize that buttress of rock.” Shannon pointed. “That one right there. My father’s map says to go to the north side of it.”

Gabe came up beside her and looked at her map.

She had to fight the urge not to keep it out where he could see. All her instincts told her to hide it from everyone, even Gabe. But she forced herself to trust him and pointed to the line of numbers and shapes.

“How do you figure that says go north of that rock.”

Shannon looked up. “It’s in code. Here.” She pulled the paper out from underneath the one she studied. Two years of work, but she’d figured it out. “My father substituted numbers and characters for words. It was a version of a game he played with me when I was young. This is far more complicated, but I broke his code.” She pulled the map out and pointed to a shape that, to Gabe, looked like a cross between a star and a dung beetle and a cinnamon roll. “This mark here definitely refers to that oddly shaped red rock.”

Hozho shook her head. “No trail that way into the canyon. My people live two days journey to the southwest. To the northwest you have to go much farther. You said he met Indians. The Pai are the only ones who live down there.”

“That’s another thing. You said Pai or Yavapai. I was sure my father’s code referred to Hopi. If I’m right, then there must be others living down there.”

“No, none.” Hozho didn’t hesitate a second.

“None that you know of, Hozho. There might be other groups down there. You say it’s rugged—how can you be sure of who all lives in the canyon? Have you or your people been all through it? Are they a large enough group to have been sure no others dwell in the bottom of the canyon?

The parson came up behind Gabe. “My motive for going was to visit members of my flock, and those folks live to the southwest.”

“If you’ve never gone the way I want to go,” Shannon said, “maybe you’ve missed members of your flock.”

Shannon kept her spine rock solid. She would not be swayed. She had to obey this map, and unless she handled this exactly right, she was going to lose the Tsosis and Parson Ford. And she couldn’t go on alone with Gabe… assuming he stuck with her. Could she do it alone?

She didn’t think so. Maybe she needed to return to a city. Flagstaff was many miles in the wrong direction, but they’d have a telegraph. She could get a bank to send a wire east and confirm that she had money and arrange the funds to be sent, then write bank drafts and finance a new trip. She’d get money, hire people loyal to her… like… Lurene and Lobo Cutter. With a tired sigh, she knew her judgment wasn’t the best. She’d probably be better off alone.

“Well, I have to follow my map. I’m sorry. If you feel you must go to the south, I regret that, but my whole expedition is for the purpose of following my father’s map, and he says there’s a trail into the canyon farther north. Of course my promises to pay you end now if you abandon me.”

She took a deep breath and faced Gabe. “You can’t go on with me if the others leave. If I could have a share of the food, I’ll go on alone.”

“Are you crazy?” Gabe exploded. “You can’t be on your own out here!”

“I certainly don’t want to be.” Shannon fell silent, her eyes flicking between Gabe and the others, praying they’d stick with her.

Gabe stared into her eyes and must have figured she meant what she said because he turned to the others. “When I set out on this trip, agreed to go along with her, I figured her map would lead her nowhere, so I’d ride along, mop her tears when she was forced to give up, and then get her to safety.” Gabe smiled at her in the least friendly way imaginable, like she was a child being humored, and he wasn’t even trying to pretend anything else.

Her fist clenched, and she satisfied her anger by picturing herself slugging him right in the nose.

“So, how long will it take to ride to the edge where this trail doesn’t exist?” Gabe arched one brow at the group.

Hozho scowled. “Not long. We should be nearly there by tonight. The canyon is much closer to us if we go straight west. The southwest route would take another day or two. We can follow your map.” She gave Shannon a very clear “you’re stupid” look.

It wasn’t the first time Shannon thought about just how rich her family was and how much she didn’t like being treated like this. All that money had, she was now realizing, smoothed the path of her life pretty well.

Of course she’d always gone her own way, much to her mother’s dismay. Shannon tried endlessly to be included in her father’s studies as a way to earn a place in his life. Her mother really hated that.

But her mother was obsessed with the family’s status in society. She rarely let a conversation go by without working in the words, “The Astor branch of my family…” or “The Campbell side of my family….”

Well, Shannon’s family tree had more than one set of roots. She considered herself more Dysart than Astor or Campbell or Fontaine—her mother’s maiden name. And her mother’s tenuous connection to the Astors hadn’t translated into any great business sense on Shannon’s part, but it had led to plenty of money. Even Mother’s snooty Campbell relatives went back to a fur trader who made his fortune trapping in the Rocky Mountains. A tough man.

St. Louis was purely civilized these days, but it wasn’t that long ago that it had been the far edge of the wilderness. There was still a rawness to the town that helped Shannon find people who would go west with her without much trouble.

Although, considering the “left to die alone” situation, she should have taken more trouble. She decided now wasn’t the time to demand respect. If she could get them to ride along with her with a sneer on their faces, she’d take it. Then she’d find her city of gold and make them all admit she was right all along. She liked that plan fine. “So you’ll go?”

Hosteen shrugged. “I can find water on the northwest trail. We won’t die.” Which wasn’t exactly eagerness, but Hosteen sounded resigned.

“Fine, then we’ll go that way.” Hozho had a look like a depressed hound dog. “No point in not following her map. If her map doesn’t lead to the Pai village, then it’s a long way to visit a village with people in it we don’t know. I’ve got no family there.” She shook her head.

Shannon ignored that pessimistic shaking head and grabbed hold of those words, because if the elderly woman didn’t accompany them, she’d have to go on alone for propriety’s sake or go back. “Parson, will you come?”

“Of course. Maybe there are more people this direction.” His voice said clearly that he doubted it. “If there are, I’ll bring them the good news of Jesus Christ.”

“All right, Shannon, we go to the north of that big rock right there.” Gabe seemed demoralized but willing to hang on for the rest of the ride.

Beggers and choosers came to Shannon’s mind. She wouldn’t demand a good attitude.

“We’re not riding on tonight, Tyra.” Abe raised his voice to be heard over the squeal of the incoming train that was braking only a few yards away.

She was enraged, so it was her distinct pleasure to yell right back at her brother-in-law. “You’re getting to be an old man. Your brother might be fighting for his
life
, and all you can do is hunt for a comfortable bed.”

It was pitch dark. They’d pushed so hard since they’d left home that both them and their horses had been worn to the nub. They’d been in town for a couple of hours, but Abe and Pa had spent that time working hard hunting down any information they could find about the telegraph Abe had received. Tyra had been left idle to fidget and fret about the delay. Pa had found the mule skinner who’d sent the wire, just back in Flagstaff from another trip packing supplies.

Abe’s look was so dismissive that Tyra wanted to strangle him. She’d have to strangle her father, too, unfortunately, because Pa said they wouldn’t push on tonight. “The mule skinner gave me directions for the settlement where he met Gabe. It’s a half day’s ride from here, and not much water along the way; and what’s there is hard to find. We aren’t going riding through a rugged land like that in the dark when we’re this tired and our horses are spent.”

The train shrieked to a halt, and a blast of steam blew out of the side.

Tyra refused to admit she was exhausted, too. “Reckon old folks like you and Pa need to rest your weary bones from time to time.”

Pa had led the horses to a watering trough, so he wasn’t there to growl at Tyra, which was probably why she had the nerve to be so rude.

Abe chuckled and refused to engage in the fight she was spoiling for. “Let’s go see if the hotel has a meal they can rustle up, baby sister.”

If Tyra managed to drag Gabe to the altar, Abe’d be her brother twice over. She liked that real fine because she liked Abe a whole lot better than her own bossy big brothers.

Pa stood across the street from the hotel near the tracks. He was dickering with the livery owner about the cost of feeding and bedding down the horses.

“I’ll go see if they’ve got rooms. Best hurry before any folks get off the train in case the hotel fills up.” Abe went up a step to the board sidewalk and entered the hotel.

A man in a black suit jumped off the train and set a box on the ground for a step. People began straggling off. The first to appear were men, one after the other until six of them were heading for the hotel. The group had a determined look, no stretching or casual talk between them. They were filthy, sooty, and sweat-stained, but they were well dressed.

Abe came back outside. His eyes narrowed as he passed the men, studying them, taking their measure. Then he reached Tyra’s side.

Pa came up on her other side a bit fast as if he’d rushed to her side before those men got to her.

“I rented two rooms,” Abe told her and Pa.

“Why not three?” Tyra asked.

The six men all trooped past her in single file, walking behind her father’s back. Tyra noticed the last of the men, his shoulders slumped, his clothes travel-stained, walked as if his feet weighed a hundred pounds each. As he drew even with her, he looked up, directly over Pa’s shoulder.

Their eyes met. In the dim light cast from the hotel window, she couldn’t make out the color, but she wanted to look closer. For some reason it seemed really important that she know if they were blue or brown. The whole world seemed to slow down. His eyes on her. Her eyes on him. The screen door on the hotel had a hollow, distant sound.

Tyra could smell the dusty streets and the coal from the train. There was food in the hotel. All her senses were unusually acute. At the same time, the world seemed distant and vague.

He kept walking and staring at her as he moved by.

“We won’t need but one bed,” Abe spoke.

That jolted Tyra out of whatever strange slow-moving world she’d been in. She felt herself blush to think that Abe had said the word
bed
right in front of this man.

The man’s eyes narrowed. He walked smack into the step that led up to the hotel door and fell over on his face.

The man in front had opened the hotel door. The others helped the fallen man regain his feet. He glanced back and was close enough to the hotel lights that she could see his eyes were blue. Bright, beautiful blue. And his cheeks were bright red. He was blushing just like she was.

She smiled.

“You all right, boss?” One of the men clapped him on the back.

He looked away and glared at the man who’d spoken to him. “Call me Buck.” The man brushed the helping hands away, slapped at the knees of his black broadcloth pants as if they weren’t so filthy there was no saving them at this point, then looked right into Tyra’s eyes. His eyes fell shut as if his embarrassment had just doubled. He turned and must have opened his eyes again because he managed the steps just fine as he entered the hotel.

The door snapped shut, and the world seemed to come back to her father and Abe planning her life and talking of beds as if she were an infant. They headed into the hotel just as the man with the blue eyes and blushing face said to the hotel manager, “We got a telegraph from my fiancée telling me to find a man named Doba Kinlichee.”