Chapter 11

The trail up Isabella Canyon was narrow, weaving around smooth, timeworn boulders and more recent craggy rockfalls, with frequent crossings of the Rio Isabella, and continual gradient changes, some steep, a few gradual. Malik let the roan pick her own way through the jumble, following the narrow ribbon of packed sand, gravel, and clay that denoted many years of passage by man and animal. Petal, the favorite pack mule of the Malik string, followed along without apparent bother. Apples, a big buckskin, provided Gabriela with as comfortable a ride as the trail would permit. The single file formation, due to the nature of the trail, as well as the dull roar of the frequent river rapids, prohibited easy conversation.

After a short rest stop at a wide area called Half Moon Cove, Malik had told Gabriela that they would again ease the horses when they got to the head of the Canyon. Now, nearly four hours after sunrise, the canyon walls were spreading and an open expanse could be glimpsed about a mile further along.

Malik reined-in, twisted a bit in his saddle, and held up a hand toward Gabriela in a stop gesture, then moved that hand quickly to place the index finger across his lips, signaling silence. He dismounted, walked up the trail a few feet, and went to one knee, examining some hoof prints there. He looked up at Gabriela and gestured that she should come and dismount and come to look, again followed by a finger to his lips.

She dismounted, ground-reined Apples and made her way past Petal and the roan. When she reached Malik, he looked up at her and said quietly, “Take a look at these tracks.” She knelt on one knee beside him.

Malik pointed to a horseshoe track in the soft, moist ground. Still in a quiet tone, he said, “See this shoe print? Compare it to this one here. Notice how the indentation on this one leaves a sharper-edged imprint than the other. Now, this is less obvious, but there are some indentations on the leading edge of this print. See here and here?”

Gabriela leaned closer, her nose only inches from the impacted soil. “The cut on the left being just a fraction deeper?” she whispered.

“Yes, exactly.”

She looked at him quizzically.

Still speaking softly, he said, “I know these tracks. I believe they’re from your brother-in-law’s horse. And I believe these, here, may be from your daughter’s. There are three other sets of prints. I reckon that five riders came up this canyon late yesterday. They’d been single file up to here, likely with Granger in the lead, so I hadn’t noticed the details.”

“Granger said Anna’s horse was run off during the so-called Indian attack.”

“Then it looks like he found it, again.” He stood, as did Gabriela. “More likely, it’s as I said to Deputy Marshal Lonegan.” He was speaking close to her ear. “Granger Lestly is such a money-grubber that he won’t even dispose of incriminating evidence or pay the price to get his mount properly re-shod. The rest of that courthouse bunch are the same way. It may prove their undoing. They are sly, but perhaps not very smart.

“In any event, we have five, I’ll assume men, somewhere ahead of us, and I can think of no more likely reason for them to be here other than to ambush us.”

“Would they actually do that?”

He shrugged. “I could be wrong. They might be up here prospecting or seeking quiet relaxation away from the hustle and bustle of Waypoint. Other than that, it seems unlikely they’re checking on stock, as the herds are in the high country for summer pasture. They could be hunting, but the river bottom and grasslands east of town have more game animals than these Dry Valleys. No, the coincidence is too great. I think now it’s fortunate we have the extra days. We’ll have to be very cautious. It’s even possible that they’re waiting at the head of the canyon.” He looked to the widening gap ahead, then around the spot where they’d dismounted. “Let’s lead the horses back to that last sharp bend.”

After they’d moved from view of the canyon’s wide entrance, Gabriela asked, “What will we do?”

Malik began unlacing his boots. “I’m going to go ahead on foot and take a look around. I don’t think they’re waiting here, because it would serve their purposes better if our bodies were disposed of somewhere away from this trail. If our bodies were not found, then our disappearance would be a mystery for which idle speculation would provide a dozen explanations. In that event, I reckon they’d prefer we take ourselves into a more isolated area than for them to have to haul our bodies themselves. So I think they’ll wait for us by Anna’s grave.

“On the other hand, like I’ve said, these men make ill-advised errors due to parsimony and indolence, so I don’t want to risk being wrong.” He pulled a rolled up bundle of buckskin from his saddle pack. The bundle unrolled as a pair of calf-high moccasins with thick, but flexible, soles. “Brought these along for camp shoes, but they do serve other purposes.”

As he pulled on the moccasins, he said, “We’ll get you situated in a secure position, then I’m going to climb up out of the canyon and move to a position where I can look down on the canyon’s mouth and into the Toonilini Valley up ahead. I want to make sure no one’s waiting for us.”

Gabriela looked skeptical. “You’re going to climb out?”

“There’s a spot back around the next bend where I figure I could climb up on top of the ridge. That’s mostly why I switched foot gear. These moccasins have better grip for climbing on rocks. However, it’s more open there, so I think you’ll be safer waiting amidst this jumble of rocks here.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take both shotguns and my rifle. We’ll tie Apples behind this rock and my horse and Petal in amongst those cottonwood by the river. You’ll be in this defile where this big rock cracked when it fell. It should be fairly safe from ricochets.”

“What if someone comes?”

“When I come back, I’ll whistle like this.” Malik demonstrated a realistic whippoorwill call. “It’s an evening bird, but I’ll bet none of these yahoos would know that, the way they left those tracks to be found. Hell—, oh, excuse me. What I meant to say is that they might as well have left a note pinned to a tree branch.”

She shook her head. “Hard language at hard events does not offend me, Emil. Besides, I’ve heard plenty, working with the hands on our—well, I reckon it’s now my ranch.”

Malik pointed to a narrow defile and said, “Hunker down in there. My shotgun has two triggers for two barrels. It’s loaded with double-ought buckshot, but the barrels have been cut down, so the range is reduced a bit. My rifle has fifteen rounds an’ now,” he pumped the lever and then pushed another cartridge into the feed tube, “sixteen, with one in the chamber and ready to fire if you pull the trigger. A common mistake, when a shooter is excited, is to pump in a new round, neglect to pull the trigger, then pump in another round. Oh, and you should load the empty chamber in your pistol.

“If your target is in range, use the shotguns first. If you have to hightail out of here, just take the rifle, leave the shotguns here. Do not worry about me. There’ll be no way you’d be able to help me. If they catch me, they’ll kill me. If I’m still out there and you start shooting, I’ll come as fast as I can.”

He stood in front of her, grasped both her upper arms, and looked directly into her eyes. He said, “Keep this in mind. Lestly’s plan seems to be to kill all of your family. I reckon he wants to inherit your ranch. Some of these men may be wearing badges, but they will kill you. Before they kill you, they will do things to hurt you beyond your imagining. Do not hesitate to shoot to kill. Have no compunction. Decide, too, if you would want to be captured by them to torture you before you die. If you cannot escape and they are about to take you, you may want to use your pistol on yourself. Put the barrel in your mouth and aim up. You won’t even know it happened. I beg you to forgive me for saying all this.” He released her arms.

She laid her hand on his forearm. “I understand, Emil. I know it was hard to say. I will keep all of it in mind.”

“I will be gone for at least an hour, but probably longer. It may be difficult for you to remain awake. Petal is an excellent watch animal. Anyone or anything not familiar to her comes anywhere near, she’ll raise a ruckus. Right now, the breeze is moving down canyon and their most likely approach is from up canyon, so Petal will have a good range.”

He pulled his spyglass from the pack and wrapped it in his kerchief, then pushed it into his shirt.

Malik looked at her, smiled, and said, “It’s a pretty spot. Enjoy the scenery.” Then he ran down canyon along the trail, back toward town, disappearing behind the next rock outcrop.

It was nearly noon before she heard the whippoorwill call. It was repeated several times. Finally, she heard, “Gabriela, it’s Emil. I’m coming in.”

“I hear you, Emil. Everything’s fine.” She pried herself out from where she had been practically wedged in between the fallen crags. She saw him step from between some rocks near the outcrop that inhibited her view of the canyon’s upper mouth. He looked weary.

“What did you find?”

“Let’s go sit over by the river and I’ll lay it out for you. I’d best bring Apples for a drink.”

While the roan and Petal had been tied near both grass and water, Apples had been kept near Gabriela, amidst the rocky detritus, so the bay pushed forward quickly for the drink. Malik took a canteen from his saddle baggage and sat on a cottonwood trunk that had been brought down in a flood, years before, its bark now gone and its smooth surface bleached light-gray by sun and weather. At the moment, however, it was shaded by a living relative.

Gabriela tethered Apples near Petal and the roan. Then she stretched out some of the kinks from her cramped hiding space, pushing her arms up and leaning back, forward, and side to side, rearranging spine, joints, and muscles. She displayed a healthy and robust, if not classically feminine, figure. Clad now in tan corded trousers and a light blue flannel shirt, she was revealed to be broad-shouldered and full-chested, with a modest but conspicuous bosom, and a waist that narrowed but slightly. Her figure suggested male strength in a female framework, like a woman used to hard physical labor. Her progress over the rocks and uneven ground showed sureness of foot and grace of movement. Malik watched her approach. Then he looked quickly away, toward the flowing river, an expression of perplexity on his face.