Golden Feather Press
EMERALD VALLEY

CHAPTER 16

Riding east with Kyle along a dusty river that twisted through a canyon of 500-foot reddish rock walls, Lake looked awe-struck. "I've never seen a place like this." He glanced at Kyle. "I'm glad we're together again."

"Dammit, Lake! I've got Dix to think of now!"

Lake laughed. "I can hardly wait to meet him. If he's like you say, even though you've hired me, he'll refuse to pay me." He laughed again. "Don't ever let him know that we knew each other before."

Dusty and somewhat disheveled, Francine approached Woody's house from the arroyo that cut through the back of his property. When she approached the back door of the house, Francine knocked softly, wary that someone might hear since a few scattered houses were within a hundred yards. Junipers and scrub oak shielded the houses, but she knew everyone watched Woody.

The door opened. When Woody saw Francine, he quickly ushered her inside. He peered around outside before shutting the door.

"Do you need your horse, Miss Francine?"

"Yes. I'm going back to Boston. I should never have come back, but now I have Matilda." Francine smiled at Woody. "Thank you for keeping her. How much do I owe you?"

Woody scowled. "You owe me nothing, Miss Francine. I'm just glad you're going back to Boston. It's not good for you here, especially with your father trying to keep you here against your will." He shrugged. "He's an evil man."

Francine slowly shook her head. "I'm finding that out, and I don't want to know anything about him." She smiled at Woody. "I'm going back to Michael. He's a cabinet maker and teacher. He couldn't come out here with me." She sighed. "But I wish he were here, now."

Woody pulled a chair from the table. "You sit tight for a while. There's fresh coffee on the stove. I'm going to scout the area to make sure you weren't followed." He slipped out the back door.

Francine was sipping coffee when Woody charged into the room and slammed the door. "We got trouble. The town's crawling with your father's hands looking for you." He walked past her into the next room and began rummaging through a cabinet. He soon returned to the kitchen and handed Francine a pair of frayed black pants, a billowy white shirt, a black coat with a tail missing and a battered black hat. "Put these on. Pack your dress in one of your bags and tie your hair up inside the hat. You've got to look like Charlie Quinn."

"Charlie Quinn!" Francine snapped. "That loan shark?" She stamped her foot. "I will not dress up like Charlie Quinn!"

Woody raised an eyebrow. "If you don't, you won't get out of town." He pointed at the clothes. "Those are Charlie's. He left them here awhile ago. They don't smell pretty, but they'll get you out of here without notice. Everyone stays as far away from Charlie as possible."

From a stall by the barn door, Matilda reared her head and whinnied. The mare knew her mistress even though strangely dressed.

Francine ran to her horse. "Mattie, I came for you! We've got to get out of here!"

Matilda squirmed as Francine saddled her, then led her out of the barn and through the back gate to a clump of twisted junipers. Once Francine secured her bundles and swung into the saddle, Matilda lurched into a gallop. Francine gently reined the horse to a walk and slowly headed out of town toward the Old Ute Trail leading to Bill Lewis' ranch.

Lake followed Kyle into the house. They found Dix in the office pulling papers from several mounds on the desk and studying each one. A near-empty glass of whiskey sat in front of him. Dix looked up when Kyle entered.

"Kyle! I thought you decided not to come back." Dix saw Lake entering the room and squinted. "Who are you?"

Lake swiped off his hat. "Name's Bolton. I'm looking for work. Kyle here said you might hire me."

Dix looked at Kyle. "You never said we needed help. I don't have any money to pay him."

Kyle side-glanced Lake, then snapped, "You've got that money I gave you from the men hired t'kill you! Besides, playin' nursemaid to you takes time away from the ranch. Hire Bolton or I quit!"

Dix shrugged. He eyed Lake up and down. "Okay, you're hired. I'll pay you $30 a month and found."

"Fifty!" Kyle snapped. "I know for a fact he's a good man!"

Dix bristled. "You already know him?"

Kyle squinted at Dix. "Met him in town. I don't have to know a cowboy long to tell he's a good man. I've been workin' with 'em all my life." He pointed at Dix's glass of whiskey. "Bolton said he quit drinkin', an' I believe him."

Ignoring Kyle's reference to his whiskey, Dix looked at Lake. "What kind of work do you do?"

"About anything you can think of," Lake said, turning his hat in his hands. "I can cook, feed and water the horses and cattle, mend fences, build barns, ride for supplies." Lake grinned. "I'm an all-around man."

"You have to sleep in the barn," Dix said. "There's no bunk house."

"Prefer it," Lake responded.

"Glad to have you," Dix said. He shoved a pile of papers aside, then gasped as he grabbed a paper out of the mess and flipped it over. He studied it briefly, then shoved it into his lap. He looked at the men. "That'll be all."

Lake nodded at Dix. "Thank you kindly." He flashed a grin to Kyle and headed to the door. "I'll get a handle on this place, pick a spot in the barn and let you two talk business." Chuckling, he went outside.

Knowing Dix wanted to study the crude map he'd just found, Kyle rested his left hand on the desk and leaned toward him. "Good decision, hirin' him." He stood straight and folded his arms. "Judge Stevens was delayed, again. He won't be in town until next Tuesday. Your uncle's will won't be read for five days yet."

Dix growled, "What's wrong with Judge Stevens? This is the third delay." He squinted at Kyle. "My side is healed. I want to be there when it's read. I know Uncle Bill has lots of money in the bank, and I don't want anyone like Coby to get it."

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "If your uncle's will is on the up an' up, you might get somethin'."

Dix glared at Kyle. "What do you mean?"

Kyle didn't respond. He sat in the only chair not piled with papers, leaned back and squinted at Dix. "Ever hear of William Deluce and Jake Brady?"

"The Pinkertons?"

"The very same." Kyle half grinned. "They were in town."

Dix's eyes widened and he sat forward. "Why?"

"Chasin' some killers into Utah."

Dix relaxed and downed the last swig of whiskey. "Hope they find them."

"They will." Kyle lifted himself from the chair and leaned over the desk again. "They'll be back. Deluce said the goings-on here interest him."

Kyle headed for the door. "I have to unload the supplies. We're all having beef for dinner."

"All?"

Stopping at the door and turning back, Kyle said, "Bolton eats with us. It's customary with such a small crew." He left the room.

Dix stared straight ahead. When the front door slammed, he grabbed his glass and drained the last few drops of whiskey. "They're coming back?" he whispered out loud. He pulled the map from his lap and turned it right side up. "I found it!" Dix stared into the hallway. "But I have to act fast!"

Lake was leading his horse to the barn when Kyle came out the front door. Lake stopped and waited until Kyle, holding Killer and Maggie's reins, reached him. "Thanks for hiring me, Boss, and for the good wage," Lake said. He winked at Kyle as he fell into step. "Masterful job of explaining that I was a good man." He laughed.

Kyle nudged Lake and whispered, "I've spent more than a few nights in the barn. Best place is in the corner of the loft pointin' at the river. You'll see my things stashed there."

"I hope to feel you soon."

"Most likely tonight," Kyle said. "Bein' in those bedrooms upstairs is like bein' in a coal mine."

Together they rounded the house.

"Dix is a good-looking man," Lake said. "I can see why you're staying on. But other than Dix being a city boy, why do you think something funny's going on here?"

Kyle shrugged. "Just a feelin'. Some things don't add up." He stopped and pointed to the far west wall of the valley beyond the river. "Dix said Coby wants to divert river water through that gap for his ranch."

"That gap?" Lake gasped. "He'd have to flood this whole valley!"

"My point exactly. I think Coby wants somethin' else and that's his story." Suddenly, Kyle spun toward the road.

The sound of a galloping horse down the long drive to the house echoed against the far walls of the valley. Kyle drew his gun when he saw a rider in a black coat and hat. As the rider slowed, he cursed under his breath upon recognizing Francine. He shoved his gun into its holster and spat. "What's that Francine want?"

"That's Francine? Francine Coby?" Lake laughed. "She's quite a looker' even in that get-up. She even rides like a man."

Kyle grabbed Lake's arm. "Don't you get sucked in by her, too."

Francine drew to a halt, then walked the horse to the two men.

"What're you doin' here, Missy?" Kyle asked.

"My father locked me up in the house," Francine said. "But I escaped." She wiped her brow and neck with a handkerchief. "I'm going back to Boston but I need to know if my father had Uncle Bill killed."

"I wasn't here," Kyle said. "Couldn't tell you." Kyle motioned to the front door. "Dix is in the office. Go on in and ask him."

Francine quickly dismounted and tied Matilda to the tie-bar. After she entered the house, Kyle turned to Lake. "It's not gonna be a picnic with her around."

Lake squinted at Kyle. "She seems very scared. I think she needs to stay here for a few days. Coby's men are probably looking for her."

"Whose ranch is this, Mister Smarty Pants?"

They chuckled and continued toward the rear of the house.

Upon reaching the back door, Lake grabbed Killer's reins and led the two horses to the barn, then turned and watched Kyle unload Maggie. Lake removed his hat and grinned as he rubbed his inch-long, dirty-blond hair. He'd found his man and a barber.

Francine waved her hand at the papers on Dix's desk. "Have you found anything in this...mess?" She looked around in disgust. "Uncle Bill kept this office spotless!" Francine glared at Dix. "Did Uncle Bill tell you anything?" She folded her arms. "Did my father have Uncle Bill killed?"

"Uncle Bill?" Dix asked. "I didn't know Bill had a niece." He shrugged. "I didn't know him that well. I hadn't seen Bill since last summer." Dix took a swig from full glass of whiskey.

Francine rested her hands on her hips. "I'm not his niece. I just called him that. But he never mentioned a nephew. Just how did you find out about Uncle Bill's death? No one in town knows you. I've heard you're from Denver."

"Er, someone slipped me a wire in a bar. I...I didn't see who it was. I...was drunk at the time." Dix looked straight at Francine. "I rushed here as fast as I could."

"I see." Francine folded her arms, held his gaze. "I don't know who could have sent you the wire. But aside from that, I hope it's all right if I stay the night. I have a long ride to Palisade tomorrow."

Irritated by the request and her seeming ability to see clear through him, Dix snapped, "I suppose it's all right. You can take the far end room." He shrugged. "Kyle said it's dusty in there."

"I'm sure it is," Francine said. "Thank you for letting me stay. I'll clean the room." At the door, she turned and said, "We're not through with this discussion. I'm going to find out who killed Uncle Bill."

After Francine brought her bags upstairs to the room, she opened the windows to air it out. She looked around the room. Dix had said it was dusty, but that wasn't the right word. After changing into riding clothes, that were more suited to cleaning than a dress, she went downstairs to the kitchen.

Kyle looked up from fixing the evening meal. "I've got it covered, Missy. It'll be ready in an hour."

Francine smiled at him. "I'm sure it will be good." She looked around. "You have re-arranged this kitchen. It's very tidy. Where are the cleaning supplies?"

Raising an eyebrow, Kyle asked, "What's Dix got you doin'?"

"Dix let me stay the night. I'm going to clean the room I'm sleeping in."

Kyle stopped slicing a potato and looked at her. "The room on the end?"

"That's the one," Francine said, looking around. "Are there any dust rags?"

Kyle grabbed an old flour sack and held up his knife. "Missy, if you can clean up that room, I'll give you all the dust rags you need."

While Kyle fussed in the kitchen, Lake fed and watered Maggie, Killer and Buck. He'd named his gelding Buck since he was a buckskin with a black mane and tail. A mountain-bred horse, Buck was sturdy, quick and agile. He even tolerated Killer's occasional attempts to hump him.

After brushing the horses, Lake saddled Buck. As he fitted the bit, Lake rubbed the horse's nose. "Let's look around while Kyle's cooking."

They headed west across the bridge into the outlying pasture. Galloping toward the high ridge on the far side of the wide valley, Lake stopped Buck abruptly, just before plunging into the dry gorge of the old river.

"I'll be dammed!" Lake said, taking off his hat to wipe his brow. "Never saw this coming." He scanned both directions of the dry riverbed, twenty feet below. "Buck, we have to find a way to the bottom. I think something might be down there." He looked over his shoulder at the flowing river behind him, then back at the dry ravine. "This change is recent."

Riding south, Lake found the horse trail leading into the canyon. Buck had no trouble with the steep grade of the narrow path.

In the riverbed, the shadows from the young cottonwoods and tall grasses that braved the sand and gravel intrigued Lake. Not a trickle of water appeared anywhere, but Lake knew that water, still flowing under the old riverbed, kept the trees growing. He figured this change in river direction happened only a few years ago. Cottonwoods grow tall very fast at first, and clumps of grasses had barely braved the sand.

Lake kept a slow pace as he followed two sets of horse tracks heading south. One set, older, turned back after awhile. The more recent tracks kept going.

"Buck, we're going to follow these tracks all the way," Lake said out loud.

They rode carefully through the sand and boulders. Around a bend, the riverbed ended in a massive jumble of reddish rock.

"This is the dam that diverted the river!" Lake noticed the horse tracks led to the rock dam and stopped. He could see where the horse had been tied to a young cottonwood and boot tracks led to the edge of the enormous pile of rocks before him. Lake lost the tracks a short way up the rocks when specks of grass from the man's boots finally disappeared.

Lake climbed to the top of the dam and spent a half hour searching, but found no further tracks. Then he climbed back to his horse, scanned the area one last time and headed back to the house.

"Where've you been?" Kyle snapped as Lake strode into the kitchen. "I've held up supper for you. Don't go off ridin' again around suppertime."

Lake grabbed a chair and plopped into it. "Sorry, Boss. Guess I got too taken with the land here."

Sitting across from Lake, Francine said, "I haven't met you. I'm Francine Coby. I'm staying the night before going back to Boston."

Lake swiped off his hat and leaped to his feet. "Sorry, Ma'am. Name's Bolton. Mr. Logan hired me today. I was getting the lay of the land. I didn't mean to hold up supper."

"It's only been five minutes," Francine said. "I don't mind. I'm used to it. My brothers were late for dinner all the time." She smiled at Lake. "Sometimes a half hour."

"Well, I mind," Dix slurred. "I'm starving."