At least a quarter hour passed, but then a glow appeared through the trees ahead. Was that the faint remaining sunlight in a clearing? Or a campfire?
As they drew closer, the glow turned into the flickering light of several fires. Through the trees, he could see men milling around.
Jedidiah didn’t hesitate, just rode toward the group. He must know them. Probably, he’d brought them all here. But why so many? And why here? The knot in Sampson’s belly twisted tighter.
Were these all miners Jedidiah had hired to help break ground on the new prospect? This was the wrong location though. They had to be at least three hours’ ride from where the man had told Sampson to leave the blasting powder.
This was closer to the Coulter ranch, though still six or seven hours away, if he had his bearings right.
Surely this wasn’t the beginnings of the dreaded attack on his family’s mine that he’d been preparing for.
As the trees broke and he reached the little clearing where the men gathered, Sampson pulled back on the reins, bringing the wagon to a halt at the edge of a small clearing.
A quick scan of the group showed close to thirty men, some huddled around the campfires, others checking their weapons or tending horses. The air crackled with a tense energy, a sense of anticipation that set his nerves on edge.
The murmur of conversation died down as all eyes turned to the newcomers. A few faces looked familiar. Was that Albert? And Joe? The Wilcox brothers, a pair of bullies Jedidiah had used as henchman at Mick’s mine. Those were the two who’d beaten Gil.
Most of the men he didn’t know had the look of hardened drifters or outlaws. Not miners.
Jedidiah dismounted and strode into the midst of a small cluster, exchanging a few short greetings.
Sampson remained on the wagon bench. Maybe he should move in closer. Try to hear what Jedidiah said.
He set the brake and lowered himself to the ground. No one paid him much attention, and he was cold enough he’d be crazy not to want the warmth of one of the fires.
He strolled toward the blaze Jedidiah stood beside, keeping himself on the outskirts of the men gathered around their leader.
“…brought the powder?” Jedidiah spoke in a low voice.
“Yep. Parked where you said.” The man who answered had a deeper voice than average. Sampson glanced from the corner of his eye but couldn’t tell if the one who’d spoken was the fellow wearing the coonskin cap or the one with the curly red beard.
The powder they spoke of…was that gunpowder? Or the same load Sampson had dropped off last night? Had that errand been a distraction to keep him guessing about the real plan?
Jedidiah spoke again, but his voice hummed lower, so Sampson missed some of the words. “…move out at first light….time to drop the powder…dark…strike…night.”
A weight pressed so hard on Sampson’s chest that he could barely breathe.Strike.
An attack.
And if they rode out at first light, they’d arrive at his family’s ranch right before dark.
He had to act fast, to find a way to delay or derail their plans. But how? He was outnumbered and outgunned, with no way to warn his family.
And Grace and Ruby still waited for him in Missoula. If he didn't make it back…
No. He couldn't think like that. He had to focus on the task at hand, on finding a way to buy more time.
Maybe he could try the “mine played out” idea. If it worked, he’d be eternally grateful, for there’d be no doubt God played a hand in the miracle.
Sampson just had to get Jedidiah alone to tell him.
The man seemed to be mostly done talking business. After another minute, he looked around. “Where’s the best stewpot?”
“That’d be Dawson’s, one fire over.” The red-bearded man said this in a voice no deeper than most. In fact, he spoke with a bit of a lilt, as if he came from Scotland or some such. Coonskin must have been the one reporting about the powder.
Jedidiah pushed through the crowd as he moved toward the campfire that had been pointed out. Once there, he picked up a tin bowl from the stack and ladled stew from the massive pot hanging on a tripod near the flames.
Sampson eased over to him, stopping beside Jedidiah like he was waiting his turn. He had to speak quickly, before the man walked off to find a seat.
