The Mother Lode (25 page)

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Authors: Gary Franklin

BOOK: The Mother Lode
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Joe finished burying Ike Grady and wiped the sweat from his brow. He gazed out toward the low, barren hills and watched a dust devil dance in the heat. He saw a turkey vulture soaring on the rising hot hair looking for something . . . anything already dead to eat. Damned if this wasn't the most gawd-awful country Joe had ever seen.
“Rip, I've got a woman named Fiona who is also in a lot of trouble hiding somewhere. And we have a pretty little girl. Tomorrow I'm gonna burn down Ike's stinkin' ranch shack and set his burro free because it can make it in this country, if the Indians don't catch and eat him. Now, Dog, you can tag along with the burro or you can follow along with me; the choice is purely your own. My feelin' has always been that a worthy dog has to make up its own mind about who it likes or doesn't like.”
Joe saw a handkerchief lying half-buried in the dirt not far away. He noticed that Rip was lying near it, and he suspected that the handkerchief had belonged to the old man and that it was the last thing that the dog had to remind it of his former friend. “Rip, how about I take that handkerchief and wear it a while?”
But when Joe tried to retrieve the handkerchief, Rip growled, bared his teeth, and would not let Joe near the handkerchief.
“All right,” Joe said, raising his hands and backing away. “It's yours . . . for the time being.”
Later that day, however, when Rip went off on a hunting foray, Joe collected the dirty, bloodstained handkerchief and instead of washing it, he just tied it loosely around his neck. Rip returned a few hours later with blood on his muzzle and a half-eaten rabbit in his jaws. He sat down in front of the shack and finished the rabbit, then watched Joe closely for a while.
“Yep, I am wearin' the old man's handkerchief,” Joe confessed to the wary beast. “I sure hope you're not of a mind to grab me by the throat and take it back.”
Rip watched Joe all the rest of that day and never let him go out of sight. That night he slept not far from Joe in the barn, and followed him about the next morning when he fed the horses and burro and then went back into the cabin and collected anything of value in a small sack. Other than a pistol and rifle that were even better than his own weapons, Ike Grady hadn't anything worth taking.
“I sure can see why Ike needed that three hundred dollars in bounty for killin' my Fiona,” Joe said to the dog. “I wouldn't give you a silver dollar for this whole ugly ranch.”
Rip sat in the shade of a mesquite and listened as Joe talked, and then Joe set a match to the shack. The place went up in a hurry with flames lifting fifty feet into the blue sky.
“I'm fixin' to head back to Virginia City today,” Joe told the dog as he saddled his horse. “And like I said . . . you can come along and we'll watch out for each other . . . or you can stay out here and kill rabbits and coyotes until you finally get so old and slow that the coyotes kill and eat
you.
So what's it to be?”
The big dog padded over to the grave and lay down beside where the old man rested.
“I accept your choice,” Joe said. “Good hunting.”
He reined his Palouse horse south toward Lake's Crossing and the Comstock Lode, satisfied that he'd done the right thing by killing Ike Grady before he'd had his chance at Fiona.
But where was Fiona now? That was the question that was slowly driving Joe crazy. The only thing he was sure of was that Fiona would eventually return to Virginia City to claim their beautiful daughter. And when she did, he'd be there and they'd be reunited and go off someplace where the cool pines sang in the breeze and the cold streams made a person feel like they were drinking the elixir of life.
Joe heard pounding feet, then a moment later the thin, terrified shriek of a dying jackrabbit. He twisted around in his saddle and saw Rip galloping through the sage with another furry meal in his mouth as he fell in behind the Palouse horse, chewing and swallowing on the move.
A big grin creased Joe's battered and still-swollen face and he said, “Glad you decided to tag along, Rip! We're going to make a good team, you and me. And before we're done with our time, I'll show you country so green and pretty that this ugly high desert will be nothin' more'n a bad memory for either of us in our old age.”
Rip looked up at him with the dead rabbit dangling in his great jaws. Joe held his horse up for a minute while the dog made the rabbit disappear. A few miles back, a small cloud of smoke hung in the sky, and Joe knew it was all that was left of the Circle G Ranch.
“Let's go, Dog. I sure hope you can abide livin' in Virginia City with all its people until Fiona comes back and we can leave. And you've got to promise me that you won't go around killin' and eatin' all the town dogs.”
In reply, Rip licked his bloody chops and followed his new master south toward Lake's Crossing and the Comstock Lode.
29
W
HEN JOE RODE up C Street with giant Rip trotting along behind his horse, their appearance created quite a stir. The usual collection of town dogs that challenged intruders bold enough to enter their territory simply looked at mighty Rip and immediately headed off to find other distractions, or ducked under the boardwalk to hide.
Joe drew rein at Mrs. Hamilton's mansion and dismounted before leading his weary horse around behind to the stable. Jasper made a big fuss over their arrival, and Rip lifted his leg and began to mark his territory around the barn and mansion.
“You'd best not piss all over Beth's roses,” Joe warned the beast. “For she would not take that kindly.”
The big dog wagged his tail and set off to do some exploring of the neighborhood. Joe wasn't worried because he knew the dog would not venture off too far and would avoid people.
“Where on earth did you get that
wolf
?” Beth exclaimed.
“He's at least part dog,” Joe answered. “And I found him up north.”
“We were all hoping that you'd come back here with Fiona, not an animal like that.”
“Rip is going to make us a fine watchdog.”
“Is he friendly?”
“Not especially,” Joe admitted. “But he'll warm to you if you let him do it on his own time schedule. Where is Ellen?”
“She's working for Dr. Taylor every day now.”
“Those two seem to have taken a real liking to each other.”
“That's quite obvious to anyone,” Beth said. “And to think that it was
you
that brought them together. Joe, aren't you going to tell me what happened while you were gone?”
Joe unsaddled and unbridled his tired spotted horse and turned it loose in its pen. He took his gear into the little barn and poured some grain for the horse. Jasper, as always, tried to bully his way to the grain, but the Palouse bared his teeth and drove Beth's gelding away.
“Horses aren't real good about sharing grain, are they,” Beth observed.
“Nope,” Joe said.
“Well, what happened? Did you find that bounty hunter and talk him into leaving your Fiona alone?”
“I guess you could say that Ike Grady isn't going to hunt down and kill anyone for money ever again.”
“That's good to hear,” Beth said. “And I'm glad that you were able to make Mr. Grady see a better way.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, not wanting her to see his face. “He's restin' a lot easier now.”
“Do you think he would have actually killed Fiona for the Peabody men?”
“No doubt about that,” Joe said. “Ike told me that they were payin' him three hundred dollars.”
“That's not very much money in exchange for selling your soul,” Beth answered.
“No, it wasn't.” Joe needed to change the subject. “Did you find another lawyer that might help me get Jessica back? One that I could afford?”
“I talked to several and they all agree that it won't be easy . . . or cheap.”
Joe frowned. “But it can be done?”
“It might be done.” Beth frowned. “Joe, one of the lawyers told me that you'd have to grease some big palms in Storey County.”
Joe had been expecting it might come down to paying off a judge and a politician or two. “How much, Beth?”
“Maybe as much as ten thousand dollars. Father O'Connor is very popular and very much opposed to letting Jessica out of his grasp. As you might expect, your daughter has become quite a favorite among the nuns.”
“Is the priest also expecting a payoff?”
Beth shook her head. “No. But I wouldn't be surprised if a little extra money did wind up in the collection basket should someone important make the decision that you were Jessica's legal father and guardian.”
Joe saw that Beth noticed that he had gained an extra rifle and pistol. He was hoping that she wouldn't ask about the new weapons.
“Beth, I sure am thirsty.”
“Then come on up to the house and I'll pour us some of my good whiskey. You look awfully tired.”
“It was a long, hard ride,” Joe admitted. “But I took care of business and I got myself a dandy big dog. His name, by the way, is Rip.”
“Fitting name judging from his fierce appearance. Rip looks like a man-eater to me. I'd be scared to get near that beast.”
“He's never going to be a real sociable dog,” Joe admitted. “But if someone comes for me in the night, he's going to be the one that tells us all we have trouble long before we'd have figured it out ourselves.”
Joe and Beth adjourned to the veranda and while Joe settled into his favorite rocking chair, Beth brought them both glasses of whiskey.
“Joe, I went down and saw Jessica while you were gone.”
He looked sideways at her. “That's nice. Did you talk to her some?”
“I did.”
Joe took a sip. “What did she say about her mother?”
Beth took a drink and stared out across the Comstock. “She says that her mother promised her that she wouldn't stay away long. That she'd come and get her as soon as she could and then they would go away to someplace real nice.”
“That's good to hear, Beth. Did Fiona tell the child where she was going?”
Beth swallowed half her glass of whiskey. “As a matter of fact, she did.”
“Where, Beth? Where did she tell the child she was going?”
“To stay with friends in Lake's Crossing.”
Joe's hand tightened on his glass. “And did she tell you the name of those friends?”
Beth shook her head. “But I might be able to guess.”
Joe waited until Beth said, “There was a couple that lived up here in Virginia City for about six months. The woman became very close friends with Fiona. Then she got quite ill and Dr. Taylor said that it was probably the bad water up here that was causing her so much stomach pain. She and her husband left here to live in Lake's Crossing. The husband is a gifted photographer despite the fact that he has poor eyesight. Before the man left, he took a lot of photographs deep down in the mines. Said he wanted to show the entire world what it was like working a thousand feet underground on the Comstock Lode. Especially the cramped tunnels and the dangerous conditions. He planned to sell them to newspapers and magazines and perhaps put them in a bound collection.”
“What's the husband's full name?” Joe demanded, trying to keep his voice calm.
“His name was unusual. It was Faxon Roderus. He told me once that Faxon was Teutonic . . . German . . . and it meant ‘long hair.' ”
Joe was amused. “Did Faxon have long hair?”
“No,” Beth said with a giggle, “Faxon was as bald as a billiard ball.”
“With a name like Faxon Roderus, it shouldn't be all that hard to find that family and my Fiona.” Joe started to rise to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“To Lake's Crossing. Can I borrow Jasper? My horse is plumb worn out.”
“So are you, Joe. And I notice that you're still limping. Why don't you stay here for a few days and rest?”
Joe knuckled his eyes. He knew that he still hadn't fully recovered from the savage beating he'd received at the Shamrock Mine and that he looked terrible. He could deal with the exhaustion, but he really didn't want to frighten Fiona by his battered appearance.
“Maybe you're right,” he said reluctantly. “I'll wait a few days and then I'll ride my own horse to Lake's Crossing and I'll bring back Fiona.”
Beth looked worried. “But what if the Peabody men find out about Ike quitting and decide to wait nearby so that they can hurt her . . . and you? Joe, I realize that you've been through so much trying to find that woman and now that she's close, it's almost impossible to hold back and show prudent caution. But we need to talk about this and think it out clearly because it could mean your
lives.

Joe tossed his whiskey down, then went into the kitchen and brought out the bottle for them both to share. Beth's glass was empty, so he filled it right along with his own, and they sat and rocked in silence for nearly an hour before Joe said, “I'll wait here for two days before leaving for Lake's Crossing. I'll get a fresh shave and haircut and some more clean clothes. I want to look as good as I can when Fiona sees me again for the first time. It's not that I think she'd love me any less lookin' the way that I do right now, but . . .”
Beth laid a hand on his knee. “I understand. You've been waiting a long time for the day when you meet again, and you're a little afraid that Fiona has changed. That you both have changed. So you want to try and make it come together the best way that you know how.”
“She just might not love me anymore, Beth.”

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