Adam had followed Brand’s trail with ease. Even when they moved into the timbered slopes the hoof prints stayed fresh enough to be able to spot. Back home Adam had been friendly with an old Kiowa who had spent some years as a scout for the army and now hung around town picking up work wherever he could. The Indian had taken to the younger man and they had spent many hours riding free, Adam listening as his friend gave him instructions on how to pick up and follow tracks. The advice was proving to be handy now as Adam followed his father up into the hills.
He had felt bad sneaking out of Santa Fe, knowing that Emilio would be worried when he realized the boy had gone. The man at the livery would eventually tell what had happened. How he had hired out a horse and gear to the young man. There was little they could do. No way they could warn Brand. Adam had left a brief note for Emilio, explaining his intentions, and for the man not to worry.
Emilio would be upset.
And Adam’s father would be angry when he found out.
In the end Adam didn’t care. He had only just found his father and he had no intentions of losing him. Too many years had gone by and Adam wanted to be a part of his father’s life now.
He had sneaked into the hotel kitchen and had taken a supply of food, leaving some money along with the note he’d written. He fastened the sack across the back of the saddle of the horse he’d rented from the livery, had taken a looping ride away from town before picking up Brand’s tracks and had settled in for the long ride ahead.
Brand had been gone almost a day when Adam rode out. Impatience had fuelled his determination to go. He pushed the horse firmly, wanting to make up some distance, and had cut the gap considerably by the second day.
The trail led up through the foothills, eventually into heavy timber. By the second day out Adam was climbing the slopes of the looming mountains. The day was bright, the landscape thick with trees and brush. There was a pervading silence. The only sound came from his own passing and the chatter of birds flitting back and forth through the foliage. When he stopped to rest his horse and eat he was beside a tumbling clear stream that rushed down from the higher slopes. He let the horse drink and feed itself on the plentiful grass edging the water. He used his knife to hack off a chunk of the cooked beef he’d taken from Emilio’s kitchen along with a fresh baked loaf. The stream provided cold water and he refilled his canteen before he moved on. He allowed an hour to rest before he mounted and turned the horse back on the trail.
The horse was a black mare with a wide white strip running down from between her ears. When Adam had ridden away from Santa Fe he had found the animal frisky and had to apply a firm hand. The mare offered some resistance at first, but when she realized the rider was no beginner she settled down and as they rose higher up the mountain slopes proved herself to be a sturdy, determined animal.
His solitary ride allowed Adam ample time to work out what he would say when he located his father. Brand would be angry that his son had gone against this wishes. Adam hoped he would be able to explain his actions. It was simply that he needed to be with his father. Since the death of his mother he had been alone. That did not reflect on his Uncle. The man had treated Adam as if he had been his own, but as much as he respected the man, Adam always felt a stranger in the man’s house. He couldn’t explain it any more than that. He had known he had a father somewhere, and there was always that need to find him. To confront the man. Brand had never been told of Adam’s existence. Adam had felt he had a right to know. And truth be told he had always carried the need to meet his father. He had not been disappointed when he had finally stood face to face with Brand. What he had learned from Alex Mundy had already given him an impression of what Brand would look like, and in reality the tall, broad shouldered figure had lived up to his expectations. Brand’s character had been a little intimidating to the younger man. He was strong willed. Said exactly what he thought and made no bones about the fact Adam’s presence had caught him at a difficult time.
Adam understood, too, that his own attitude had not exactly helped. He quickly realized he had inherited Brand’s impatience and a stubborn streak. He couldn’t help that. It was part of him and was behind the impulsive act that had brought him here, to this mountain slope, where he was searching for his father. In the short time he had been close to Brand, Adam had become aware of his father’s strong character. His way with words and the strong way he expressed himself.
‘Horse,’ he said, ‘he’s going to give me hell when I show my face.’ The thought made him smile. ‘I mean what can he do? Shoot me?’
The mare made a soft sound that sounded to Adam that it was agreeing with him.
He found a place to make camp as the day ended. He ate. Drank water before he settled his horse, then rolled himself in his blankets and slept through until first light.
Now his way took him across a shallow swell of ground that brought him to a bare ridge. He drew rein and scanned the way ahead. No movement, except for the sway of trees and the grass. Adam saw gathering clouds to the north and east. They looked heavy. Swollen with rain and he picked up the still distant rumble of thunder. He sat for a while, studying the weather signs. There was a storm on the way and it was heading in his direction. He felt a rise in the wind. It was starting to build. Even the black sensed the weather change as it pricked up its ears.
‘That is all I need,’ Adam said. ‘Horse, we are going to get wet pretty soon.’
The other disadvantage with a storm coming was the likelihood of it washing away any tracks he was following. He pushed the horse forward, picking up the pace, keeping one eye on the weather signs and the other on the tracks he was following.