Wayward Wind (38 page)

“We’ll take Volney up to his place in the morning and bury him,” Cooper announced to the group in general.

“How far is it, son?”

“With the wagon it’ll take most of the day.”

“Then you’ll be gone a couple of days.”

“It’ll be more like four or five. I’ve got something to do after that.”

“I’d be obliged to go with ya to do it,” Griffin said.

The two men looked at each other for a long while, then Cooper nodded. “Louis can go along and bring back the wagon.”

Sylvia looked from the young man to her son. There was more, much more, going on here than they were talking about. The mere
fact they were not talking about it made it all the more serious. She studied her son’s face. He had worn a worried frown
all day. She’d not ask him what was troubling him. He was a man and entitled to his privacy. When he wanted her to know, he’d
tell her.

“Can you handle things for a few days without Griff, Arnie?” Cooper asked.

“Sure can. Though I’m itchin’ to get to town ’n bust heads.”

“Arnie! When is this ever goin’ to end?” Sylvia exclaimed.

Cooper looked at his mother. “I don’t blame him, I’d feel the same. But I’d be obliged, Arnie, if you’d put off busting heads
and look after Ma and Bonnie for a few days.”

“I aim to. I aim to look after yore ma till doomsday comes.” Arnie gave Sylvia a devilish grin. He enjoyed making the color
come into her cheeks. “I’ll be alookin’ after yore young lady, too, young feller,” he said to Griffin.

“It’s settled.” Cooper got to his feet and left the house, he had scarcely eaten a plateful of food.

It was a long slow journey to Volney’s cabin. The trail narrowed at times and the wagon carrying the coffin was forced to
leave it and make its own tracks, bumping over stones and bypassing downfalls. They arrived in late afternoon and after a
quick meal from the hamper Sylvia and Bonnie had provided, they chose a spot beneath a bluff behind the cabin and placed Volney
Burbank in his final resting place. They buried him deep, and just before they yanked out the boulder that would cause a small
rockslide to cover the grave, the three men stood hatless and silent beside the grave. It was twilight, and darkness was settling
over the quiet, wooded mountainside.

“Good-bye, old timer,” Cooper said. “You’re one of the last who blazed the trail for the rest of us.”

The three men stood silently for a long moment paying their last respects to the old mountain man. Cooper nodded to Griffin
who had looped a rope over the boulder. Firebird bunched his muscles and strained. The boulder moved and the rocks came tumbling
down and the body of Volney Bur-bank was given back to the mountains he loved.

Louis hitched up the wagon at dawn and headed back to the ranch. It was then, while they were drinking the last of the morning
coffee, that Cooper told Griffin about the cache and the bags of gold dust.

“I’m going to take Lorna’s share to her.”

“I’d the notion ya was agoin’ to the mountain to settle with Fulton.”

“That too, if I find him.”

“I figger I got more of a reason to settle, ’cause a Bonnie.”

“We’ll play it by ear. I want you to know that I don’t hold with shooting a man in the back, even if he’s got it coming.”

“I aim to be alookin’ him in the eye.”

“Fair enough.”

They didn’t have any trouble locating the pine that had been topped by lightning, or the hole in the cliff covered by a small
rock slide. In less than a half hour they had pulled away the rocks exposing a small, natural cave just large enough for two
or three men to sit in comfortably.

Air whistled through Cooper’s teeth when he saw two stacks of prime furs, each almost four feet high arranged on wooden platforms
to keep them off the floor of the cave.

“He said he had furs worth about five hundred. These’d bring a couple of thousand if they’d bring a dollar.”

“There ain’t no way yore goin’ t’ get them outta here without a pack train or a wagon,” Griffin said, and ran his fingers
over the pelt of a silver fox. “The ole man shore knew what he was adoin’ when he stretched these hides.”

“We’ll have to come back with the wagon. I didn’t want to mention any of this to Louis. If the word got out about the cache
every gold-crazed man in the territory would be digging here thinking old Volney found it right here.”

Cooper dug in between the two stacks of furs and pulled out a deerskin pouch. The top was tied with a thong. He loosened it
and the pouch fell open. Inside there were six bags, each the size of a man’s two fists, one placed on top of the other. Cooper
lifted one of the bags and then pulled the drawstring and peered inside.

“Good Godamighty!” A slow smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t expect anything like this. There’s enough
here to make a man rich!” He tossed one of the bags to Griffin and watched the amazed expression settle on his face as he
peered inside. “One of them is yours, Griff. Volney’s very words were: ‘Give a sack of my gold to the young feller. It’ll
give him and Bonnie a start.’”

“I ain’t ne’er had nobody give me a dime. I ain’t sure if I ain’t dreamin’.”

“You’re not dreaming.” Cooper held out his hand for the bag and Griffin returned it to him. He put it alongside the other
five, then turned back to the dazed young man. “He said one out of the six, Griff. He didn’t say which one, so I reckon you’ve
got the right to choose.”

“No, I cain’t do that. I’m jist so dumbfounded—”

“This will pay for that land on the Blue, set you up in ranching and build a decent house for Bonnie. I’m mighty glad for
you, Griff.”

“Confound my soul, Cooper. I just cain’t believe that ole man’d give me… that.”

“Well, he did. And he’d given it some thought, too. He knew there’d be plenty for Lorna. Now make your choice. We’ll pack
the rest in my saddlebags and take it to Lorna. Ma’ll have to wait awhile for the pelts. She doesn’t know she’s getting them
anyway, and she’ll snort at thinking she’s getting pay for nursing Volney.”

“Jist gimme back the one I had afore. That’s plenty big enough. I ain’t agoin’ to try ’n do Miss Lorna out of a heavier sack.”
He took the sack and held it in his two hands. He began to smile. “Dadgum, Cooper. I jist don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything to me. It’s not my doing.”

“Won’t Bonnie be plumb surprised? I’m agoin’ to get her some dresses ’n a bonnet with blue ribbons on it. ’N shoes, Cooper.
Did ya know she’s ne’er had shoes bought jist for her? I’m agoin’ to fix up that cabin, maybe build on a room or two, ’n buy
her a iron cookstove like your ma’s.” Still grinning and shaking his head in wonderment, he looked toward the place where
they had buried Volney. “I sure do wish that ole man knew how tickled I am.”

“He’d not want thanks. He’d want us to get on with it and take the rest to Lorna.” Cooper went to get Roscoe, led him up close
to the cave and packed the rest of the sacks in his saddlebags. “If word of what we’ve got here got to some of the men coming
out of the hills, our lives wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel.”

“I’ve seen men die over a bent spoon—”

“It’s a shame, but it happens.”

“What’a ’bout you, Cooper? Didn’t Volney say anythin’ ’bout you havin’ any?”

“I reckon he thought Lorna and me would be a team. But there’s no chance of that now.”

“I’m plumb sorry to hear it.”

The men worked silently after that and stacked the rocks carefully over the hole that now held the furs. Cooper led the horses
away and Griffin painstakingly swept the ground with a branch, wiping away their tracks.

“Another ’n who’ll be tickled ’bout this is Kain,” Griffin said when they were mounted. He led off and spoke to Cooper over
his shoulder. “Ya know, he’s the feller that stayed with the horses when I hightailed it to keep Dunbar’s outfit from afindin’
where we’d hid ’em. I been awonderin’ ’bout him ’n athinkin’ I ort to be gettin’ on back. I hope he didn’t let that outfit
get him cornered.”

“Where did you meet up with him?”

“Santa Fe. He’d been goaded to fight ’n I stood at his back to keep the bastards from knifin’ him. We took outta town on a
dead run with six of the meanest hombres I ever did see chasin’ us. That was ’bout this time last year. We was in Denver for
awhile, then we come on up here. Kain knew the country and was agoin’ to help me get a toehold afore he drifted on. He’s not
wantin’ to settle here. I’m wantin’ to light somewheres. I’m tired a eatin’ beans by a campfire when it’s colder ’n a well-digger’s
ass. I’m wantin’ me a warm cabin ’n a soft woman.”

“Any chance he’ll run out on you?”

“None a’tall. I’d bet my life on it—’n I have a couple a times. If’n he says he’ll look after the herd, he will or die tryin’.
He’s slow to rile, but when he does he’s a ring-tailed tooter. If’n he’s heard Clayhill’s bunch tried to hang me, it’d not
surprise me none if’n he didn’t ride in there ’n call him out.”

“So he’s a gunfighter.”

“Not no more ’n me. He fights when he has to.”

“Most men do,” Cooper said dryly. “Or when there’s something they want.”

Several times during the day they passed groups of men coming down out of the mountains for the winter. The thought crossed
Cooper’s mind that Lorna might have met up with just such men on her way back to Light’s Mountain and that she’d had trouble
with them. A lone woman on the trail was easy pickings. He tried to shove the thought from his mind and tell himself that
she was no ordinary woman and was able to take care of herself, but the worry hung there, nagging at him.

They stopped for the night before they reached the crest in the mountain, pulled back off the trail into a dense growth of
pines and underbrush and found a small clearing for the horses. They staked them close to where they threw down their bedrolls,
rolled in their blankets and tried to sleep.

Cooper spent a restless night. He dreaded the confrontation with Lorna and having to tell her that Volney was dead, yet he
was anxious to know that she had arrived home safely. He had to get her out of his system, he told himself impatiently, because
he couldn’t spend the rest of his life with his guts tied in a knot. Thank God he didn’t have to worry about her being pregnant—if
she was telling the truth. He flopped over and pulled his blanket up around his ears. Damn her! He’d not had a peaceful moment
since he met her.

They woke in chilled dawn, saddled up, and rode out without bothering to eat, anxious to cross the mountain and get down to
where it was warmer. There was the smell of snow in the air when they reached the highest elevation. In another week or so
the summit would be snow-covered. Cooper thought about this and the fact that he would be cut off from Light’s Mountain until
spring. That was fine with him. Surely by spring he would have come to his senses where Lorna was concerned.

They went down the trail Lorna had taken a couple of days before. Griffin was impressed with the beauty of the country and
mentioned it. When he got no response from Cooper he kept his thoughts to himself.

Cooper was occupied with his own thoughts. The fact that he would see Lorna soon afforded him little pleasure. He wondered
what she would do with the gold Volney left to her. Most women, if they were suddenly rich, would move to town, get themselves
all duded up, travel, and take in the sights. Somehow he doubted the sudden riches would change Lorna at all. Even dressed
in britches and her father’s old shirt, she was more woman than any he’d ever met. The natural pride and grace of her bearing,
her rapture as she sang and danced in the woods gave her an inner beauty that had nothing to do with what she was wearing.
God, if she was any prettier in a fancy dress than she was in those old britches, he didn’t know if the world could hold her.

Cooper estimated they were about three quarters of a mile from the homestead when he became aware of a stench is the air.
He sniffed, trying to recognize the odor. It became stronger by the minute, and finally Griffin mentioned it.

“It smells to me like somethin’s dead—a whole bunch of somethin’. I smelled the same thin’ once when me ’n Kain came onto
a place where stampeded cattle had gone over a cliff. Phew! I ne’er smelled anythin’ so rotten in all my life.”

Cooper had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right about the same time Roscoe pricked his ears and tensed under him,
not liking the odor or the eerie quietness. A few minutes later they came out of the woods and Cooper saw the mass destruction
that had once been Lorna’s home. He and Griffin reined in and sat there in stunned silence. There was not a building or a
fence standing, except for the stone walls of the smokehouse. Not a living thing moved on the homestead. The dead animals
that lay among the ruins were swollen and covered with flies. Tiny whiffs of smoke still drifted occasionally from the blackened
rubble.

“Jesus, my God,” Cooper muttered. “Lorna set such a store by this place—” He put his heels to Roscoe and they moved swiftly
toward the ruin.

“Gawddamn!” Griffin called from behind him. “Is this where Miss Lorna lived?”

Cooper didn’t answer. He’d heard a pounding and caught a glimpse of a red-checked shirt across the stream in a small pole-fenced
area. He reined in and studied the area carefully. Griffin was doing the same. Their eyes caught and Cooper tipped his head
toward where the man, ignoring them, pounded on the stake. Griffin nodded and indicated he would circle the homestead.

The man was big. He had black hair and a bushy black beard. If he knew anyone was approaching, he didn’t let on. Cooper walked
Roscoe toward him. He continued to drive the wooden cross into the ground. When Cooper saw the freshly filled grave his heart
did a flip-flop in his chest. Almost breathless with fear, he moved his horse around so he could read the inscription on the
cross:

FRANK DOUGLAS

husband of

NORA

father of

LORNA

It was Lorna’s father buried there. Cooper took a deep breath of relief.