Wildfire Creek (36 page)

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Authors: Shirleen Davies

BOOK: Wildfire Creek
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The boy glared at him but nodded. “Yes.”

Gabe handed him the plate and fork, keeping the knife in his hand, and untied the leather strap around the boy’s wrist. The speed at which he devoured the food surprised everyone. Within minutes he handed the plate back to Gabe and wiped a sleeve across his mouth.

“Do you want more?” Gabe asked.

The boy shook his head, and for the first time, made eye contact with other others. The men had poured out of the bunkhouse at the sound of Bull’s voice, and stood around, not ready to leave until they’d learned more about the boy.

“What’s your name?” Bull asked again.

“Boy Who Runs Fast.”

Bull decided it best to remember the name and what it implied. “What’s your white name?”

“Billy.”

Bull looked at Gabe, asking without words what the sheriff wanted to do next.

“Billy, let’s go inside.” Gabe reached out a hand, which Billy ignored as he stood and walked through the front door.

“We’ll go in the study. Ginny, is there a place Billy can sleep tonight?” Dax asked.

“He’ll sleep in the same room with Noah and me.” Gabe planned to take no chances.

Luke, Dax, Bull, and Noah took seats in the study, followed by Gabe and Billy. There were still many questions needing answers, including the location of where he and the others lived.

“If you don’t need me, I believe I’ll turn in.” Doc Worthington turned toward the hall.

“Will you be around tomorrow?” Gabe asked.

“I can stay another day, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Gabe turned toward the boy. “Now, Billy, tell us where you’ve been living, and how many more are hidden in the mountains.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The men questioned Billy until they’d grown weary of hearing the same story over and over. He told them he’d escaped a Crow village months before and worked his way across Montana, heading west until the bad weather started and he realized he couldn’t go any further until spring. He decided to hole up in a cave above Luke’s house.

The men believed the only truthful part of the tale was his escape from the Crow camp. Each thought the rest to be pure hogwash.

They decided to start again in the morning. The boy’s fierce protection of the others gained the respect of the men, yet it also put Billy’s friends in danger. If he didn’t return, there’d be one less person to gather food and supplies.

The sun had begun to rise over the mountains in the east. Gabe sat at the kitchen table, watching over the rim of his coffee cup as Billy shoveled one spoonful of food after another into his mouth. He had told them he’d turned fifteen on his last birthday and had lived with the Crow Indians for almost three years.

“Why’d you decide to leave the Crow? Quite a decision for a lone boy to make. Seems you would’ve had others traveling with you.” Gabe had never been a lawman before agreeing to take on the sheriff’s job in Splendor. He’d been a colonel in the Union Army, making tough decisions and leading men into battle. The skills he learned during the war served him well in his new job—one he had no intention of keeping for long.

Billy continued to chew his food, ignoring Gabe’s question, hoping the lawman would give up. The boy didn’t know Gabe or his friends. When they had a goal, these men never quit.

“Is there anyone left to find food after we take you into town? You know, unless you lead us to the others, they’ll be left to take care of themselves. I hope none of them gets sick.” Gabe leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and keeping his gaze trained on Billy. The last question caused the boy to squirm in his chair as his eyes darted around the room. Gabe knew the boy had decided to run.

The sound of chair legs scraping wood was the only warning as Billy jumped to his feet and ran toward the back door. Gabe let him go, knowing the others were ready to follow him into the woods. Last night they’d made the decision to allow him to escape, hoping he’d lead them to his friends.

“There he goes,” Noah said as Billy took off at a fast pace, dashing around the bunkhouse and into the trees beyond. “It shouldn’t take long for Luke and Dax to spot him.”

Bull nodded, then nudged his horse into a gallop, determined not to the let the boy get away.

Gabe came out the front door and walked toward the barn where Blackheart stood saddled and waiting. “Let’s go.” Gabe swung into the saddle and they followed the path Bull set.

Most people thought tracking someone in the winter was harder than other times of the year. Dax and Luke believed otherwise. The decreased foliage allowed them to spot their prey easier. They’d taken away Billy’s moccasins, providing him with boots he refused to wear. They hoped following bare footprints would be better than trying to track someone wearing moccasins. At least the lack of protection on his feet might slow him down.

Bull kept Billy in sight while staying as far back as he felt safe. He knew where Luke and Dax would be—on the exact path Billy had chosen to take.

“There he is.” Luke pointed as he and Dax moved farther behind the boulder shielding them from Billy’s view. “The boy sure can run.”

They followed him as he crossed Wildfire Creek, not thirty yards from Luke’s house. They noted the direction he took and waited for the others to join them.

“Fan out, fifteen yards apart, and follow him up the hill. One shot in the air when you spot the cave.” Dax moved across the swelling creek, Hannibal not flinching at the frigid water. Luke and Bull spread out to his left, while Gabe and Noah rode to his right. The five kept a steady pace, listening and noting any changes as they pursued their prey.

Billy squatted and looked around. He knew the men followed him, yet he didn’t dare stop. He had to warn the others before they were discovered and hauled into jail for stealing. His feet stung from the icy ground and freezing water, and Billy knew he’d made a mistake leaving without the boots.

As the wind swirled around him, he shivered and thought of Lydia, the woman who’d risked her life to help them escape. She’d been promised to a Crow brave, the one who’d pulled her from a burning cabin even as she fought him.

Her parents had died in the fire, which started over a disagreement between a neighboring Crow village and her father. A fire, Lydia had once told Billy, could’ve been avoided if her father hadn’t fired on the small band of Crow who approached their house. He’d panicked, shooting and killing a young brave.

The enraged Crow killed her parents, taking Lydia and her younger sister and brother captive. They’d come to the tribe a year before, two years after Billy and his sister. She’d been given time to adjust, then was told the warrior who saved her would become her husband. Lydia had no desire to stay with the tribe, become the bride of a man she didn’t love, and live her life away from the white world and the customs she knew.

Billy had learned of the plan to escape and confronted her, telling Lydia he and his sister would be going along. They’d snuck away from the village several months before while most of the warriors were away hunting. He still didn’t know how they’d stayed hidden from the Crow party which hunted them, but they had.

Along the way, they’d been turned away more times than he could count by farmers and ranchers who didn’t want to associate with whites who’d lived with the Crow. None would take the chance of sheltering the former captives or helping them back into the white world. Most gave them food and sent them on their way.

Billy now trusted few white men. He’d seen the pained expressions of the women, along with the disgust of the men, as they were turned away. They were relegated to a third world, one between the whites and the Indians.

He pushed away the painful memories and glanced behind him once more. Seeing nothing, Billy dashed up the hill, trying to stay below the tops of the sparse brush. The sound of a bird chirping had him crashing to the ground. The sound repeated a moment later, then stopped. He doubted it came from the men who followed him. He didn’t believe they’d know how to make calls similar to the ones used by the Crow warriors. Convinced it was nothing, Billy stood and ran as fast as his bare feet would carry him, up the hill, around a thick stand of pine, and slipped through a tight opening in the rocks, which led to a hidden cavern deep within the mountain.

“Got him,” Bull said, looking through the field glasses he always carried. “He disappeared into those rocks behind the stand of pine.”

“You’re certain he didn’t go around them?” Luke signaled Dax with the bird call they’d perfected as children, then slid off Prince, receiving an answering call from his brother.

“I am. He’s hidden in the rocks or in a cave we didn’t spot.” He slipped the glasses into his saddlebag, then dismounted as the others joined them.

The five spread out, approaching the rocks on foot, keeping watch around them. The sky remained clear and the bright sun now stood overhead, washing light through the tall pines.

“There’s no way in from this side.” Noah walked around from the right. “I checked as far as I could before the trail closed up.”

“Come look at this.” Bull’s quiet voice drifted toward the others, who followed it to see him staring at an opening between the rocks. “I think he slipped through here.”

Dax peeked through the slim gap. “There’s a large cave, but Billy isn’t in sight. I’m guessing there must be other tunnels. We won’t know until we go inside.” He looked at the others, knowing he, Luke, and Gabe were the only three who might fit through the opening.

Noah took a quick look and snorted. “I’ll stay out here, make sure no one gets past you.”

“I’ll stay with Noah. There’s no chance I’ll get through the opening without tearing off an arm.” Bull offered a slight grin as he took a position opposite Noah.

“You two ready?” Gabe asked just before he slipped inside, ripping a hole in the new shirt he’d bought for Christmas.

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