With the darkness came rain. At first it was only a light drizzle, but within the first hour of darkness the drizzle increased until it had become a heavy, drenching downpour.
Jacob would have kept going if he’d only had himself to consider. His thoughts now, though, centred on Nancy and what was best for her. In this darkness on this strange mountain, with the slashing downpour of icy rain, travel was a risky proposition. Jacob didn’t even consider it.
He located a sheltered place in a narrow canyon. It was beneath a large overhang of rock that jutted out from the canyon wall, and it was on a slightly higher level than the trail they had been travelling.
Jacob collected wood and made a fire. He knew it was a risk, but Nancy was cold and soaked to the skin. He knew very well that the Retfords were out there somewhere. He knew it, but he was determined not to let the knowledge kill his spirit. He and Nancy were going to have to be careful, but that didn’t mean they had to run and hide like animals. Jacob could sense that there would have to be a final showdown with the Retfords. When the time came he would face it. Until then, with caution at the fore, he and Nancy had to make the best of the situation.
With the fire going Jacob went out and collected more wood, making sure there was enough to see them through the night. After that he saw that the horses were fed and tethered.
Returning to the fire he saw that Nancy had put coffee on to boil. She had got out of her wet clothes as well. With a dry blanket round her she was on her knees before the fire, running a brush through her damp hair. She glanced up as he approached, smiling tiredly. Firelight shone in her eyes, turned the bare skin of her arms and shoulders to warm pinkness.
Jacob shrugged out of his coat. He took his gun belt off and put it close by as he knelt before the fire.
‘Jacob.’
He looked up. ‘Yes?’
Nancy stopped brushing her hair. She made to speak then lowered her eyes for a moment. Then she got up and moved across to where Jacob knelt. Getting down beside him she took his face in her gentle hands, turning it to her. She kissed him soundly, her lips warm on his. Jacob drew her to him, feeling the soft press of her body. Imperceptibly Nancy’s mood changed from clinging gentleness to demanding boldness. Jacob found himself drawn to her by his own needs, and at first he would have let himself go as far as things might have taken them. And it would have been easy. With the loosely wrapped blanket slipping to her waist, revealing her womanly fullness, Nancy seemed oblivious of her surroundings, her sparse and crude place of rest. For her there was only Jacob. The warmth of his lips on hers, the touch of his hand on her breast. She held him, tightly, not wanting it to end, suddenly not caring what happened as long as she could stay with this man.
Yet it was Jacob himself who did end it, but gently, as he firmly drew her from him. Nancy gazed at him, her eyes full of questions as Jacob pulled her blanket across her firm body.
‘Another time and another place,’ he said, ‘I’d consider myself an honored man. Right now though, I figure I’m only too easily taking advantage of our situation, and you’re too much a lady to be used that way, Nancy.’
‘Place or time won’t change what I feel, Jacob,’ Nancy said.
‘Nor me. But I reckon we both need us a breathin’ space.’
She smiled, appreciating his thoughts for her, his respecting her position, and knowing that they were being wise to stop things just where they were for now.
Later, as they sat together before the fire, fed, and warmed by the flickering flames, Nancy said, ‘Where do we go when we reach Youngtown?’
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘It doesn’t matter to me as long as it’s where you are.’
Jacob refilled his coffee mug. ‘Up where my brother, Brigham, has his place, now that’s right nice country. Plenty of good grass and water. Sort of place where a man could make himself a home. Why, that’s just what Brig did. Up in those hills now, it’s fine country for cattle — and people.’
‘Sounds nice. So does your family. It must be nice to have family.’
He looked at her. ‘Nancy, are you sure you want to get hung with me?’
‘I already am,’ she said, ‘and there’s no use you trying to talk me out of it.’
‘I wouldn’t think of it. All I wanted to know was if you had any doubts.’
‘No, Jacob. No doubts. Not now. Not ever,’ she told him, and he knew she meant it. He was glad, for it made him easier in himself, because he’d had a strange feeling over what it might have done to him if she had expressed doubts or had changed her mind.
Later still, while Nancy slept, Jacob kept watch. Somewhere out there were the Retfords. He wondered what they were doing. Had they given up for the night? Or were they still searching? It was impossible to tell and Jacob didn’t dwell on it for too long. Come morning he’d have plenty of chance to see how things were.
Jacob let himself drift into a light sleep. He needed some. With daylight he would need his full wits about him. There would be no time for sleeping then. He was thankful for his ability to be able to come awake quickly at the slightest sound. As it was the night passed without incident, and with dawn graying the sky Jacob roused himself and built up the fire.
He was stiff and cold, having spent the night beside a large rock at the edge of the camp, where he had a good view of the approach to the canyon. In a while he felt better as the heat from the fire cut through the chill left by the damp night.
There was coffee on the boil and bacon crackling in the pan when he woke Nancy. Her clothes were dry now and he went to check the horses while she got dressed. By the time he returned she was kneeling before the fire forking the bacon out of the pan. She’d put some bread in with the other food and she cut off a couple of thick slices, dropping them into the pan of hot fat. While the bread fried she poured two mugs of hot coffee.
‘How does it look?’ she asked.
‘Pretty quiet. No sign of anyone out there. I figure they did the same as us and camped when the rain came on last night.’
Nancy turned the bread over in the pan. ‘How long till this rain stops?’
‘Hard to say. Could keep up for a day or two. Then again it might quit in the next few minutes.’
‘It’ll slow us up.’
‘Yes. But it will also slow up Retford and his boys. If we can keep our lead we might get out of these mountains before they do.’
Nancy put the bread on to plates, divided the bacon. They ate in silence. When they’d finished eating they had the rest of the coffee, and while Nancy got their gear tidied up and packed away Jacob put on his thick sheepskin coat, took his rifle and went off down the canyon.
At the mouth of the canyon he stopped and cast around for any sign of life. The trouble was that the rain was liable to have washed away any tracks, if any had been made. Moving out of the canyon Jacob climbed to higher ground and had a look back along the way they had come the day before. Here again there wasn’t much he could see. Trees and brush lay thick all around, so he wasn’t able to see far. He hunkered down and waited a while, what for he didn’t quite know.
He was about ready to go back when he thought he spotted movement along the way they’d come. He watched the spot and after a minute he saw it again. Then he saw clearly as a horse and rider came into view in a clearing. Jacob recognised the man as one of Retford’s gunhands.
The rider came on slowly. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. It was obvious that he was searching for tracks. Jacob watched him for over ten minutes. In all that time there was no sign of the rest of the Retford bunch. Had this man come on alone? Maybe riding through the night? Perhaps Retford had even split his men up, sending them in different directions. A lot of ifs, Jacob knew. And all of them liable to cause him trouble.
And then the rider below did the one thing Jacob had hoped he would not do. He saw the canyon, and without hesitation he turned his horse and rode over towards the canyon entrance.
Jacob thought of Nancy, and of his own boot prints in the soft ground. The rain would not have washed them away yet. Jacob eased back into the brush and worked his way down to the low ground. He had to move fast but he had to be careful, for the approaching rider would be alert now for any sound, any movement.
The rider drew rein at the canyon mouth. He sat for a moment, casting round. When he spotted Jacob’s tracks he slid his rifle free and got down off his horse.
Jacob had come down by a slightly different route, bringing him out of the brush some yards to the rear of Retford’s rider. When Jacob stepped out of the brush the man was studying the line of tracks back along the canyon. Then he reached his hand out to catch up his horse’s rein.
‘Mister, you just stand where you are and don’t move. Don’t you move unless you want to die right quick,’ Jacob said as he stepped out into the open behind the rider.
The man did as he was told. Jacob closed up with him, keeping his rifle levelled all the time. It had been known for a man to buck a loaded gun and to get away with it. Jacob didn’t intend to give this man the chance to even think about it.
‘Let go the rifle,’ Jacob said, and when the man had done so, Jacob told him, ‘Now take out the handgun. But do it easy, pilgrim, ‘cause I’m a man who’s right nervous where guns are concerned.’
The man slid his gun free, held it up and Jacob took it and tucked it away under his coat.
‘All right, mister, you can ease off now and turn around.’
The man was as tall as Jacob, but slimmer, with a narrow, high boned face. His eyes were small and narrow, his mouth hard, thin lipped. He returned Jacob’s glance with almost a sneer. He appeared to be relaxed, as if he wasn’t overly worried about his position.
‘Now I’d say you were a man who was expecting his bunch to come and save his hide any minute,’ Jacob said.
‘I figure you’d give an arm to know just how far away they are,’ the man said, and he grinned at Jacob cockily.
He was still grinning when Jacob rammed the muzzle of his rifle into his stomach. The man grunted and buckled forward and Jacob swung the muzzle again, slamming it down across the side of the man’s head. The man went to his knees in the mud and stayed there for a minute, his breath coming in rasping gulps.
‘Now I might not give an arm, pilgrim, but you might lose one if I don’t get to know where Retford and his bunch are,’ Jacob said as the man got to his feet.
There was a bruise forming on the side of his face where Jacob’s rifle had caught him. The man put a hand to it and swore. He threw an angry look at Jacob. ‘Mister, you can go to hell.’
This time Jacob used the butt of his gun. It came round in a slashing arc, catching the man along his jaw, spinning him round, slamming him up against the canyon wall.
‘Pilgrim, you better get the idea quick. I ain’t in any mood to play games. You tell me what I need to know else I’m going to make you wish you’d never come on this mountain.’
The Retford man spat blood and a tooth. The side of his face was raw and bloody. ‘Christ, mister, you like to broke my jaw. Hell, you crazy or what?’
‘Crazy to stay alive is all,’ Jacob said. ‘You know how all this came about. I don’t want trouble, but Retford won’t leave it lay. He made the rules, and any man on his side of the board gets in my way, then he’s going to get whatever comes along.’
The man fingered his bleeding face. He looked at Jacob, and he knew by what he saw that if he wanted to walk away from this, then there was only one way to do it.
‘What the hell. I don’t figure it’s going to do you much good anyhow. Old Kyle, he’s ready to chase you clear to Canada to get you. He’s mean enough. They’re about an hour behind is all.’ He smiled quickly. ‘Mister, you ain’t got much of a chance. No sir, not much of a chance.’
‘For a loser I’m not doing too bad,’ Jacob said. ‘It’s you on the wrong end of this gun, not me. Now you think on before you say any more.’
Keeping the man covered Jacob moved over to the man’s horse. He released the man’s saddlebags and emptied the contents on to the ground. Sorting through them Jacob took a box of ammunition, a sheathed knife and a half-bottle of whisky. Then he took the rope that was coiled up on the saddle and went over to where the rider stood watching him sullenly.
‘On your face, pilgrim,’ Jacob said.
The rider looked at the muddy ground at his feet and a protest rose in his throat. He never uttered it, for Jacob laid his rifle butt across his jaw again.
The rider dropped like a stone and Jacob turned him over on to his face, pulling the rider’s hands behind him. Quickly Jacob roped the man’s wrists together and then hauled the groggy man to the nearest tree and tied him to it securely. Before he left him Jacob emptied the cartridge loops on the man’s gun belt.
On his way back to the canyon he picked up the rider’s rifle. Jacob jacked out all the shells, then smashed the rifle against a rock.
Nancy was sitting by the horses, her rifle in her hands when he got back. Jacob told her what had happened.
‘Then we haven’t got as big a lead as we thought we had,’ she said.
‘No. You ready to ride?’
Nancy nodded. They mounted up and Jacob led out along the canyon, then back on to the faint trail that led to Youngtown.
Now, Jacob knew, they had little time to linger. Retford and his bunch were close, too close. As he rode Jacob’s mind worked swiftly. He wanted no more contact with Kyle Retford if he could avoid it. Contact would only mean one thing. Gunplay, more killing, and now Nancy was involved. There was only one thing for Jacob to do and that was to get her as far away as possible, and hope that Kyle would eventually tire of the chase. That was a faint hope, Jacob knew, but it was all he could do. It was all that was available to him until something better showed itself, if it ever did.
They rode as fast as they could. The rain had turned the ground to soft, clinging mud that made riding a risky proposition. The trail took them through forest and canyon, along narrow ways that clung to the sides of high mountain slopes. They crossed numerous streams and once they had to ford a fairly wide creek in full spate.
Hours slid by unnoticed. Noon came and went, the afternoon drew on, and through it all as they rode the rain fell. It maintained its steady downpour, never once slacking off, or even showing signs of slacking off.
Late afternoon found them on the lower slopes of the mountain range, riding over terrain that was more rock than anything else. Here and there the trail petered out completely, but Nancy knew the way and she took them through without hesitation.
The sky above them was dark and heavy, thick with great swollen storm-clouds, and Jacob realised that they were in for even worse weather than they already had. In a way, though, he thought, a bad storm might help them. The Retford bunch would have a hard time trailing them in a bad storm. Jacob considered, and decided that if a storm did hit, he and Nancy would try to keep going, throughout the night if need be. If they could keep their lead and reach Youngtown ahead of the Retfords they might yet keep on top of the situation.