WWIV - Basin of Secrets (23 page)

Steven could only smile. This was not a good time for a knock-down, drag-out brawl with her, not for him at least. “Like I said, he’s around somewhere.”

Cara nodded and looked off in the direction of where the woodsmen were. “And he wasn’t one of the four lads that Harley commandeered, on your advice, to go fetch wood…” She moved closer to him. “…like Grace said she saw?”

His tongue became thick, like it was covered in dense glue. He tried to lick his lips, but with no saliva available, he was afraid they’d crack and bleed if he dared open his mouth. His wife’s glare intensified.

“Really,” she sputtered, “after all the times I have made it clearly known that I don’t want him that far off, dealing with wood that could snap his arm in an instant. A pile could fall and crush him like a bug. There could be a bear attack, and they’d have little to protect themselves with.” She pulled on his coat collar, bringing his face down to her level. “And you disobey me.”

“Cara,” he started, his tone soft and loving, “he’ll be fine. He’s with Harley and two other men. They’ll watch out for the boys.”

Cara’s eyes shot open and a chill ran through him as he feared for his well-being. Tightening her grip on his collar, her voice rose another octave. “Harley? You think Harley is a good protector, a good example to be with? Harley, the man who broke his arm last fall chasing a raccoon up a tree? Just for fun?” She released his collar, attempting to throw him away. “You,” she screamed, “are amazing. I wonder sometimes what you’re thinking. I wonder if I was crazy to make you my husband.” She turned away, and he noticed her hands balled into fists. “I can’t believe you would do this to me, without even asking.” Spinning, she rushed him again. “Have you no consideration for my feelings on anything, Steven?”

Now would be a good time to reply, he thought. And something decent; not cute or sarcastic. That might lead to a week of sleeping on the chair, unintended. As he opened his mouth to beg for forgiveness, a new voice called out from the front of the camp.

“Mrs. Wake? Mrs. Wake?” Sheila approached, saving Steven from a certain death – or worse. Coming closer, she seemed oblivious to their ongoing one-sided war. “There you are, Mrs. Wake. There’s a pair of new arrivals at the front gate. A man and his wife.”

Cara straightened her jacket and turned to give Sheila her full attention. “Okay, I will be there as soon as Steven and I finish our discussion.”

Sheila’s head shook quickly. “No. The woman is asking for you by name. Says she knows you. Perhaps you could come right away. She seems almost, well, frantic.”

Cara shot Steven one last leer, as evil as she ever had in his mind. “All right,” she replied, following Sheila to the front gate. “Let’s go find out what all the commotion is about then.”

Andy and his henchman glowered at the Camp Eight assembly members. They gave Andy the impression of an honest group, but he didn’t really trust their leader – Jed whatever-his-name-was. Perhaps it was because he was a young leader; he didn’t look a day over 30 to Andy. Perhaps it was his attitude. Jed answered questions, politely at that, but gave the impression of holding something back. Most likely the reason Andy didn’t like the man was his gaze, far off into the forest as he answered questions, almost like he were hiding something, like the rest of the assembly knew Jed was lying and didn’t want to make any eye contact in fear of giving away his half-truths.

“So, Talbot Bond was here you say,” Andy repeated his question for a third time.

Thoughtfully, Jed nodded. “Yep,” he drawled.

Andy’s stare intensified. “And he left three weeks ago?”

“Yep.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Andy rubbed them. This was worse than pulling a sliver from a bear’s paw. “Did he tell you anything interesting? Anything worth sharing?”

Jed stared at the ground, rubbing his whiskers. “Not that I can remember. Somewhat of a boring fellow.” Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he motioned to the eldest member – at least he looked the oldest to Andy. “Frank, you remember anything special about that Bond fellow?”

Frank’s mouth twitched as his eyes focused on the behemoth next to Andy. Letting his gaze fall back on the youngest Tarlisch, he shook his head slowly. “Nope. Kind of a boring fellow, if I recall.”

An anger boiled inside Andy, like a pot of lukewarm water just set over the fire. He motioned for Freddy to join him, away from tainted ears.

“Something wrong, boss?” Wilson asked.

Andy snuck a peek at the assembly, now standing in a tight circle deep in some type of discussion. “I ain’t buying what they’re selling. From what I know of Bond, he’s anything
but
dull. Will always said he was as clever as a fox, even more so sometimes.” Focusing on the man who was a good head taller than himself, he continued. “And what’s with all the colorful garb here? These are strange folks, Freddy, don’t you think?”

Wilson watched the assembly, not Andy. “We need to ask them about the Albrecht girl. You haven’t done that yet.”

Andy turned his head and hollered at the group. “We’re looking for a girl too; well, a woman I suppose. Goes by Betsi Albrecht, maybe Sarabeth. Traveling with her husband. Seen anything of them up here?”

Jed Fordham stepped away from his gathering. “Yeah, there was a gal here, just the other day. Went by Atwater. Said she was looking for her dad. We sent her on to Camp Nine. Never heard of no Atwaters up here though. Maybe they have over there in Camp Nine.”

Andy’s attention flipped back to his henchman. “Seems like everyone’s on their way to Camp Nine. Maybe we should be. You think?”

Wilson leaned to whisper in his boss’s ear. “I think it’s best if we do a search of the camp first. Seems like the prudent move in this situation.” Leaning away, he awaited Andy’s reply. “If that’s what you think is best, I mean.”

Andy grinned. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Freddy.” He winked at his friend. Focusing on the assembly, he called out again. “We’d like to search the camp.”

Tightlipped, they nervously eyed one another.

 
“Let me change that,” Andy yelled, approaching the group with Freddy in tow. “We’re going to search your camp. We just need to be sure everything is as you say.”

Jed eyed the young man. “And if we don’t agree?”

Andy’s grin doubled. “I’ll turn my people loose, and we’ll burn this place to the ground –

after we search it, of course. Then we’ll hang you and your friends here, just to show everyone the respect that a Tarlisch deserves.” Stepping so close he could smell what Jed had for lunch, he tipped his head. “That sound better?”

With a look of indifference, Jed replied. “My camp is your camp, boy.” Spreading his arms, Andy and Wilson walked past, motioning for several others to join them. “Asshole,” Jed added under his breath.

The horses turned from the camp and took their riders away to the south. Daylight would soon be in short supply, and Andy knew it. Also in the back of his mind was the fact the Willem probably wouldn’t come until morning. He had to get a man back to Salt Lake to let Willem know where to head. And then he and his team needed to meet up with Landry, who hopefully had Camp Nine surrounded by now.

“Freddy,” he yelled behind, “have Jones and Hill head back to Salt Lake. Tell them to guide Will and Howard up here to Camp Nine, down below Deer Creek Reservoir. Have them go back up the canyon by Twin Peaks. That’ll be the quickest.”

“They aren’t getting back there for four hours or so. We need to secure the other camp so no one sneaks out,” Freddy said. “You know it will be noon tomorrow before Willem gets up there, right?”

“I know that,” Andy scoffed. “I just hope when he gets here he appreciates everything we did.” The pair fell in line with the others as Jones and Hill rode back to the north. “Maybe now he won’t kick me around no more. You know, ‘stupid little cousin Andy.’”

Wilson stared ahead. “What do you care what he thinks? Do your job, do it well. That’s all he’s asking of you. Just don’t act so stupid like you have a tendency to do sometimes. That is what he wants, I think.”

Andy cringed. “Why is everyone against me? Why are you against me, Freddy? What do I have to do to make all of you happy?” His saddle squeaked as he turned to his right. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend, Andy,” he replied, still watching the trail. “I still got to answer to Willem, you know. He ain’t my family. If you screw up, he’ll chew you out. If you screw up, and finds out I let you,” Freddy spun and focused on the younger man, “he’ll hang me. And we both know it.”

Riding forward and picking up speed, Andy grinned.
 

Two scouts from Lieutenant Landry’s group waited for Andy’s arrival on the trail, a little more than a mile from Camp Nine. Slowing their horses to a walk, Andy nodded at the pair.

“We all set boys?” Andy asked, noticing that the sun had cleared the tree tops to the west and soon would fall behind the mountains. When that happened, darkness would devour the forest.

One of the pair stared tight-lipped at the other. The second man held the update. “We ran into a little problem on the way down here. So Landry has everyone staged about a quarter mile south of the camp. She was just waiting on you.”

Andy’s nostrils flared hearing their report. “What the hell you mean, ‘staged’? She’s supposed to have that camp surrounded by now,” he fired back.
 

Cautiously, the rider made his way to Andy’s side. “Just follow me. She’ll explain it all.”

His head shook, looking far off into the mountains in the east, wondering what could possibly have held up Landry’s progress. “She damn well better,” Andy spit back.

With no further words, the large company of riders galloped south.

“What the hell you been doing, Landry?” Andy shouted. “That camp was supposed to be surrounded by now. Willem is gonna kill you if Bond has escaped ‘cuz he knew we were coming.”

Melinda’s casual expression showed no emotion for Andy to gauge. “We had a problem, Andy. About four miles west of here. We ran into an Upland Guard unit.”

Waving a loose hand, Andy snorted his displeasure. “So what? I’m sure there’s Guard everywhere up here.”

Melinda moved closer. “We had a bigger problem than them just saying hi. It got hot, fast.” Her eyes nervously roamed the 70-plus riders Andy had brought; seemingly searching for one person.

“We need to get that place surrounded, and light is failing, Melinda,” Andy said in a lowered tone. “Mount up and let’s move.”

Her right hand reached and took his arm, squeezing in urgency. “You got Nancy Keller with you, right?” Confused, Andy nodded. Landry’s eyes darkened. “Her husband’s dead. There was a shoot-out, Andy. They stopped, we stopped. They asked us what we were doing, I told them to mind their own business. They drew weapons, a couple guys in our group, near the front, fired theirs.”

Evaluating the news, Andy rubbed his almost smooth chin. “How many did we lose?” he asked in a whisper.

“Three men,” she softly replied. “Luke Dandry, Bill Walows and Enid Keller.”

Andy’s eyes shifted, back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum on an old clock. “How ‘bout them?”

Melinda moved even closer, invading Andy’s personal space. “Six. All six of the Guard are dead.”

Andy shrugged, looking back at Wilson, leaning in to hear the conversation. “Okay, just wait until we’re bedded down for the night before you tell Nancy.” Landry signaled her agreement with a quick nod. Andy leaned back in his saddle. “But why’d you wait for us to move? You still could have surrounded them?”

Melinda sighed. “A lot of shooting went on, Andy. Not real long, but a lot of noise. I thought maybe we might have spooked them, so I held off.” Noticing his head nodding, she continued. “I sent three men to watch the place. That way, they can let us know if the camp seems on guard as we move in, right?”

Andy grinned back at Wilson. He loved it; Landry was deferring to him as the leader. “Yeah, good idea, lieutenant. Well played,” he answered.

Stepping away, Melinda’s face soured. “I wasn’t asking your permission, you fool. I just meant that’s what Will would want us to do.” Storming back to her horse, she pulled worn leather gloves onto her calloused hands. “You’re not in charge of me, Andy Tarlisch.”

Hearing Wilson snickering from behind, Andy scowled at the woman. “That damn bitch,” he seethed. “Someday soon she’s gonna get hers. Maybe from Will, or maybe from me.” Andy’s group followed as the lieutenant’s team led them toward Camp Nine.

Cara approached the pair of worn-out travelers cautiously. Seeing they were just two more of the many flowing from Salt Lake, tired looking and dirty – like the rest – she lowered her guard.

Hoping to ease their apparent tensions, she gave them a small, gracious smile. “I’m Cara Wake. How may I help you?”

The woman with short blonde hair approached, reaching for her hands. “Cara? Is that you? Is that really you, Cara?”

Her eagerness caused Cara to take a small step back, studying the stranger closely. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “Do we know each other?” Her eyes may have appeared slightly familiar, but that was all.

The woman stepped closer. “Cara, it’s me Betsi. Betsi Bond.” Looking behind her, she reached for the man’s hands. “Well, Betsi Albrecht now.”

Cara rocked gradually, trying to recall the name, the face, the voice. Her eyes narrowed before popping open wide, like on a child’s doll. “Betsi?” she cried. Reaching to hug her former friend, tears streaked her face. “Is that really you, Betsi? Oh my Lord. It’s been so, so long.” Their embrace continued as both women shook slightly from tears – tears of joy and remembrance.

Finally, they separated and smiled at one another. “What are you doing here, Cara? It almost appears like you’re someone important from the greeting I received from the others.”

Cara nodded. “This is my home. This is where we’ve spent the last 10 years – Steven and I. And our two children, Joshua and Rose.” Surveying the camp, Cara shrugged. “And yes, I guess I am someone here. They elected me leader a few years ago. Four now, I suppose.”