Jake by C. Petit (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📕

would only add another day or so to his journey. It would also be far less likely for Sheriff Zendt to have notified the Missoula County sheriff. Then there was the large Flathead Reservation just north of Missoula where even the sheriff had no jurisdiction.

As he kept Mars at a fast pace, he knew that he couldn’t change his original plan. If he followed that southwestern road, he’d still need to visit Helena if he didn’t find his father in Missoula or on the Flathead Reservation. If it hadn’t been for Sara, Jake would still visit those places if he didn’t find his father in Helena. But Sara was already too important for him to spend another week on his father’s cold trail.

He slowed Mars to a medium trot after committing to returning to the ranch if he failed to find his father in Helena. If his father showed up on the Elk after he and Sara were married, at least he’d finally have his answers. What happened after that was out of his control.

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It was early afternoon when he passed Fort Shaw. He’d rested the horses and had a quick lunch just before he reached the post, so he didn’t even slow down as he headed south. After passing the southwestern road turnoff, the level ground ended, and he soon began a mild but continuous ascent into the mountains.

It was eighty miles from Fort Shaw to Helena, but Jake only intended to ride another four hours before setting up camp for the night. He felt he’d already pushed Mars and Vulcan too hard today. He estimated that he’d already traveled almost fifty miles since leaving his campsite at sunrise. But he didn’t regret not stopping at Fort Shaw. He may have told the Stoker brothers that he’d visit on his return trip, but he didn’t want to waste the time once he decided to bypass the fort.

Even though it was still a sunny afternoon, the road became heavily shadowed by the mountains and the nearby pines. It created an ideal location for an ambush by more highwaymen. The road was reasonably well traveled, but Jake hadn’t seen any traffic after passing Fort Shaw. He’d have to be even more vigilant if he expected to reach Helena.

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Twelve miles ahead, two men sat beside their smoldering campfire watching for traffic. While they may be preparing to rob and kill the next passerby, they weren’t highwaymen. Privates Izzy Huffman and Dan Newton had deserted from Fort Shaw just after Jake had headed north. They had enlisted because neither could find a job and with the Indian Wars all but over, expected to enjoy an almost picnic-like time at the fort. It didn’t take long for them to run headlong into the reality of army life. Pay wasn’t as regular as they expected, and the food tended to be sporadic and often spoiled.

They were infantrymen, so to help them desert, they stole two army mules and enough rations and supplies to get them to Helena. They believed that when they reached the big town, they would find some of the gold that was rumored to be everywhere. They had their rifles and ammunition pouches and rode the overloaded mules hard as they climbed the mountain passes. They were convinced that they were already being chased, so they didn’t even stop to let the mules drink or rest.

The first mule had collapsed and refused to go on just four hours after leaving the fort. After unloading the poor beast, they’d just led him into the trees where Izzy had shot him. They had to shed some excess weight before they double mounted the second mule and continued heading south.

The second mule went lame two hours later, which was a remarkable effort by the abused animal. After leading the injured animal a few hundred feet from the road into a small forest, it was Private Newton who’d put him down. With no means of transportation, the two ex-privates walked another half a mile. They set up camp in the dark space between a pair of massive granite outcrops about thirty yards west of the road. While inside their rocky enclave, they could see about two hundred yards of the roadway back toward Fort Shaw but only about fifty yards to the south toward Helena.

They had expected to be riding south again the next morning, but the only traffic that had passed were two freight wagons heading south and a group of four hard men riding from Helena. All four freighters were well armed and neither Izzy nor Dan even considered launching a surprise attack. When they spotted the four riders, the deserters had retreated into their natural fort and hope they wouldn’t become victims. They relaxed when they realized the men hadn’t seen them, then cooked a hot meal while keeping an eye on the roadway.

Now, as they sat by their dying campfire, Izzy asked, “Do you think we’re ever gonna get outta here, Danny?”

“We got enough food for a few more days. We’ll get to Helena soon enough. At least the army doesn’t seem to care about us anymore.”

Izzy snickered then said, “I bet Sergeant Rudd is spittin’ nails.”

Dan grinned as he stared at the road to the fort just in case the army cared about them after all. He lifted his Springfield Model 1868 rifle from where he’d leaned it against the rock and laid it across his lap.

Izzy stood, snatched his rifle then stepped near Dan and watched the south road toward Helena. The breechloader the army had provided and trained them how to use fired a .50-70/450 cartridge. Each of them had more than twenty rounds in his ammunition pouch and both of their rifles were loaded as they waited for a less threatening victim to appear.

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Jake had a limited view of the road ahead as it twisted and turned while snaking