“Why would it?” Neill added. “Fifty thousand. He knows the mine is worth more, a great deal more. He could give back one of them or keep both and keep demanding more money.”
“There’s every chance that’s exactly what he’ll do,” Jim said. He looked at Ellen again and got a small nod. It was time to tell them what they had already decided. “We can’t pay him.”
“What?” Abigail said. “How will you get them back, then?”
“The law will help,” Delphi volunteered.
“The law won’t be of any use,” Jim said. “You saw how fast they abandoned the search for the bank robbers. We have to do this on our own, and the way this ends, the only way it ends, is with Cord Bannen dead.”
“He’s right,” Neill said after a long pause. “This Bannen has proved to be both patient and ruthless. The threat to your family will never be over until he is killed.” He gave Delphi’s shoulder a final squeeze, then moved up to stand next to Jim. “I know these mountains better than most. I will help you however I can.”
“I appreciate it, Captain,” Jim said, and was genuinely moved. He marveled for a moment at how far he and Neill had come since he’d met the man in Kansas.
He’d been a gutter drunk then. Jim regarded Delphi for a moment. She wasn’t there at the beginning of the captain’s change, that had happened after Donovan died, but she was certainly a driving force in it. He has someone to take care of now, someone who believes in him.
“I’m with you,” Colton said. Here was another one who Jim hadn’t started out on good terms with. Colton, too, had come a long way.
“We might have to get the money anyway,” Jim said.
“Why? If we aren’t going to pay him, why do we need it?” Colton said.
“To lure him out and put him at ease,” Jim answered. “The man isn’t dumb; he’s had months to plan this all out. If we show him what he expects, he’s more likely to let his guard down.”
“I just want my grandchildren home,” Abigail said. “I want this to be over. I don’t care about Cord Bannen and I don’t care about the money. Not even after…not even after what he did to David. I want Walt and Alma home.”
She broke down into tears, and Martha hugged her mother.
“Ellen, are you in agreement with this?” Martha said. She’d been at Neill and Delphi’s place during the attack, and Jim was glad for it. Bannen would have killed her, or worse, if she’d been at home. The only reason Abigail had been left alive was to let Jim know who took Walt and Alma.
“I am,” Ellen said. Convincing her hadn’t been easy. At first, she’d wanted to just pay Bannen and get her children home. But Jim had finally convinced her that paying Bannen would not remove the danger. “I want Walt and Alma back more than anyone. I understand the risks. But Jim is right, he will never stop.”
“So, what do we do next?” Colton asked.
“In three days I ride to Bidwell’s Bar with the money. From there we…” Jim spent several minutes outlining the plan in the vaguest terms.
There were too many unknowns for anything concrete. The three of them would go: Colton, Neill and Jim. The others would remain in Onionville, under the protection of the sheriff and his deputies.
Jim looked around the room when he was finished. When the moment arrived, Neill and Colton would have to improvise, and Jim would have to trust them.
Walt and Alma’s lives were riding on it.
They had to succeed. Whatever it took, whatever the price, they had to get the children to safety and then they had to kill Bannen.
Jim caught Ellen’s eye again and nodded. He’d sworn to her. For her father and for their children, he’d sworn to her he would kill Cord Bannen.
Chapter 29
On the appointed day, they left with the golden dawn. Jim Heston, Captain James Neill, Colton Barton. Three riders, grim and determined, and Jim could not have asked for better.
Jim led their only packhorse, laden with a pair of heavy, locked chests, one riding on either flank. Concealed by his shirt, the keys hung on a long leather strap around his neck.
They met at Jim’s cabin, then circled the lake and rode down the pass from Donovan’s Valley to Onionville, saying nothing as they traveled. Each knew how much was riding on this. A mile east of Onionville, Jim brought them up short.
“Luck to you,” he said to the others.
Neill took a flask from inside his jacket pocket. “I was saving this for a special occasion,” he said. Then he passed it over to Jim.
Jim pulled a mouthful and the liquid burned like fire. “It’s got kick,” he said.
Colton took his own pull, following it with a coughing fit.
Neill put the returned flask back inside his pocket without taking a taste.
“You aren’t having any?” Colton said.
“Me?” Neill grinned. “No, I don’t touch the stuff anymore. Like I said, I only carry it for special occasions.”
“Occasions like what?” Jim asked.
“Well, maybe one of us gets shot or cut. Whiskey’s good for treating wounds.” He looked around with mock indignation. “If I ran around drinking the stuff, someone might think I’m a low-down drunk.”
Jim laughed, and Colton only seemed more confused. Finally, the young man gave a brief grin.
“I’ll see you on the road,” Jim said, then he rode on alone for Onionville and Bidwell’s and whatever lay beyond.
Jim rode at a slow pace. Off the main trail, Neill and Colton would have a hard time keeping up. His thoughts came as the day passed. He cast his mind to the trail ahead, the likely places where he would meet Bannen, what would happen when they met.
Finally, he took a breath and settled in. He needed a clear head. There were too many possibilities ahead, too many potential outcomes. He could neither expect nor be ready for all of them.
