Chapter 3 - What Happened at Black Pine Pass
Caleb moved first.
He knocked the lantern from the deputy’s hand.
Darkness swallowed the tunnel.
The deputy fired.
The shot exploded inside the rock passage.
Eliza dropped.
Caleb slammed into the man.
They crashed against the wall.
Eliza crawled forward.
The pistol skidded past her hand.
She grabbed it.
“Stop!”
Nobody listened.
Caleb grunted.
The deputy cursed.
Eliza pointed toward the sound.
“I said stop!”
This time they did.
Caleb had the deputy pinned against the rocks.
Eliza held the pistol.
The deputy stared at her.
“You won’t shoot.”
Eliza cocked the hammer.
“I’m seven months pregnant, crawling through a mine to rescue a chained man while your sheriff plans to steal a newborn from my kitchen.”
She steadied her arm.
“Today seems full of things I never expected to do.”
The deputy stopped struggling.
Caleb took his belt and tied his wrists.
“What about the shot?” Eliza whispered.
“They heard it.”
Sure enough, voices rose in the chamber below.
“Move.”
They retreated through the tunnel.
Eliza hated leaving Elijah.
Caleb read it on her face.
“If they catch us, nobody gets him out.”
“What do we do?”
“Get help.”
“From whom?”
Caleb did not answer.
Because that was the problem.
Pike controlled the sheriff.
Boone controlled the mine.
Half the town owed somebody money.
The other half was scared.
They returned to the horses.
Eliza mounted with difficulty.
Caleb grabbed the reins of his horse.
“Mercer ranch first.”
“Why?”
“Sheriff said they were searching it.”
Her blood ran cold.
“Reed.”
“And the baby.”
They rode hard.
Twilight had begun by the time the ranch appeared through the trees.
Eliza immediately knew something was wrong.
The front door stood open.
She jumped from her horse before it fully stopped.
“Doctor!”
No answer.
She ran inside.
A chair lay overturned.
The table had been shoved aside.
Drawers hung open.
“Hope!”
Her voice cracked.
Caleb entered behind her.
“Reed!”
A moan came from the pantry.
They found the doctor tied to a shelf.
Blood streaked one side of his head.
Eliza cut him loose.
“The baby?”
Reed struggled upright.
“They took her.”
The room tilted.
“Who?”
“Denton and two deputies.”
Eliza backed against the wall.
“No.”
“I tried.”
“Where?”
“They said courthouse.”
She was already moving.
Caleb caught her arm.
“You can’t ride into town alone.”
“I’m not leaving her there.”
“Pike wants you to.”
Eliza stopped.
That was true.
Reed wiped blood from his face.
“They searched for the locket first.”
Eliza touched her pocket.
Still there.
“When they couldn’t find it, Denton took Hope.”
“Then he wants a trade.”
Caleb nodded.
“Probably.”
Eliza looked around the wrecked kitchen.
Something caught her attention.
A floorboard beneath the table had lifted slightly.
Thomas used to repair that floor.
He had cursed that exact board for squeaking.
Eliza stared.
“What?”
She knelt.
Thomas had replaced the board three months before his death.
Yet one edge now appeared intentionally loose.
She wedged a knife beneath it.
The plank lifted.
Underneath sat a narrow tin box.
Reed stared.
“Was that there before?”
“I didn’t know.”
Eliza opened it.
Inside were documents.
Dozens.
Land deeds.
Assay reports.
Tax notices.
And a notebook in Thomas Mercer’s handwriting.
Her hands began trembling.
She opened the first page.
BLACK PINE RECORD.
Below it:
If anything happens to me, Pike did not act alone.
Eliza closed her eyes.
For three months she had mourned her husband as the victim of an accident.
He had known.
He had hidden evidence in their own floor.
Caleb crouched beside her.
“What else?”
Eliza turned pages.
Dates.
Names.
Payments.
Dawson property—false tax lien.
Bell ranch—Boone payment to arson crew.
Harper claim—transferred after disappearance.
Mercer ranch—pending.
Then one line stopped her.
S. Pike requested protection. Child may prove everything.
Eliza whispered, “Thomas knew about Sarah.”
Reed leaned closer.
“When?”
The date was six weeks before Thomas died.
“He knew before you told me.”
Reed looked shocked.
“I never told him.”
“Then Sarah did.”
A folded letter was tucked between pages.
Eliza opened it.
Thomas,
If I fail to reach your ranch, the child must not remain in Cinder Gulch. My father knows what the birth will prove. Boone keeps the medical ledger hidden beneath his assay office. Dr. Reed has only part of the truth. The rest is in the old mission records.
Sarah
Eliza looked at Reed.
“Medical ledger?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Caleb took the note.
“Old mission?”
“There was a mission outside town before the courthouse was built.”
Reed frowned.
“Burned twenty years ago.”
“Records survived?”
“Some went to St. Matthew’s church.”
Eliza stood.
“We need them.”
Caleb looked at her.
“Hope first.”
“Yes.”
She gathered Thomas’s notebook and Sarah’s letter.
Then she removed one sheet.
A list of Pike’s payments.
She handed it to Reed.
“Hide this.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere nobody would search.”
Reed looked offended.
“They already tied me inside a pantry.”
“Exactly. They’ll think they searched you.”
He folded it into the lining of his boot.
They rode toward Cinder Gulch after dark.
Eliza’s back ached.
Her legs ached.
Her unborn baby moved hard enough to make her wince.
Caleb noticed.
“Stop?”
“No.”
“You’re going to collapse.”
“After I get Hope.”
The courthouse was lit.
A crowd had gathered.
News traveled quickly in small towns.
Pike stood on the steps.
Hope was in the arms of a woman Eliza recognized as Mrs. Barlow, who ran the boardinghouse.
The sight of the baby alive nearly broke her.
She dismounted.
“Eliza Mercer,” Pike called.
The crowd turned.
“You stole a child under county protection.”
Eliza walked forward.
“No. I paid for a labor contract attached to the man protecting her.”
“That contract has been revoked.”
“On what grounds?”
“Escape.”
“He was abducted by your deputies.”
Murmurs.
Pike frowned.
“Careful.”
Eliza stopped below the steps.
“Give me the baby.”
Pike held out his hand.
“The locket.”
Eliza’s expression remained blank.
“What locket?”
His eyes narrowed.
“The silver one.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sarah gave it to Vale.”
People stirred at the name.
Pike realized his mistake.
Eliza seized it.
“Sarah Pike?”
Silence.
“Your missing daughter?”
Pike’s jaw clenched.
“You told this town she went to Denver.”
Nobody moved.
Eliza continued.
“But she gave Elijah Vale something before she died?”
A woman gasped.
Pike raised his voice.
“This is not a public matter.”
“It became public when you put Elijah on an auction platform.”
Sheriff Denton stepped forward.
“Eliza.”
She looked at him.
The sheriff had always seemed ordinary.
That now disgusted her more than obvious cruelty would have.
“Give me Hope.”
Denton stared.
“You named her?”
“Elijah did.”
A murmur passed through the crowd.
Mrs. Barlow looked down at the baby.
Pike snapped, “Enough.”
Eliza reached into her pocket.
Pike’s eyes followed.
She removed the locket.
The crowd leaned forward.
“Here.”
Pike’s face changed.
“Bring it.”
“No.”
“Eliza.”
“Bring Hope.”
His nostrils flared.
Then he nodded to Mrs. Barlow.
The woman descended one step.
Eliza climbed one.
They met halfway.
Eliza held out the locket.
Mrs. Barlow extended the baby.
Then Pike said, “Stop.”
Mrs. Barlow froze.
“Open it first.”
Eliza stared at him.
“Why?”
“I want to know what Sarah placed inside.”
“You don’t know?”
Pike said nothing.
That interested her.
Eliza opened the locket.
She deliberately kept the note folded behind the photograph.
Pike saw Sarah’s face.
Something almost human flickered across his expression.
Then vanished.
“Nothing else?”
“No.”
Pike looked unconvinced.
“Give it to me.”
Eliza handed it over.
Mrs. Barlow gave her Hope.
The moment the baby touched her arms, Eliza nearly cried.
She did not.
She kissed Hope’s forehead once.
Pike opened the locket himself.
He pulled out the photograph.
He checked behind it.
The note was gone.
Eliza had removed it at the ranch.
His eyes snapped toward her.
“You took something.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“Prove it.”
Pike stepped down.
Caleb moved closer.
Sheriff Denton rested a hand on his gun.
Then a voice spoke from the crowd.
“Let the woman leave.”
Everyone turned.
It was old Amos Bell.
His ranch had burned the previous year.
He walked forward with a cane.
Pike laughed.
“Go home, Amos.”
“I said let her leave.”
Another man stepped beside him.
Dawson.
Then the blacksmith.
Then three miners.
Eliza realized something important.
Fear worked only while everyone believed they were afraid alone.
Pike realized it too.
His face darkened.
“Mrs. Mercer,” he said quietly, “you have until sunrise to return that child.”
“No.”
“Then you will be charged with kidnapping.”
“Whose child?”
He stared at her.
Eliza smiled without humor.
“You still haven’t answered.”
She turned.
The crowd opened for her.
Caleb walked beside her.
Nobody stopped them.
They reached the horses.
“Where now?” he asked.
“Church.”
“For what?”
“The old mission records.”
They entered St. Matthew’s through the side door.
Reverend Cole found them near the records cabinet.
He looked terrified when Eliza said Sarah’s name.
“No.”
“You know something.”
“I know enough to wish I didn’t.”
She showed him Thomas’s letter.
The reverend read it.
Then sat.
“What does Pike fear about the baby?”
Cole looked toward Hope.
“The mark.”
“So Reed said.”
“It isn’t just a mark.”
“What is it?”
The reverend walked to a locked cabinet.
He removed a ledger nearly thirty years old.
He opened to a baptism record.
HARLAN JEREMIAH PIKE.
Below the name:
Mother: Abigail Pike.
Father: Unknown.
A handwritten note appeared beside it.
Infant born with hereditary crescent nevus of the left shoulder, common to males of the Mercer line.
Eliza stared.
“Mercer?”
Cole nodded.
“Your husband’s family.”
Her mouth went dry.
“My husband?”
“Thomas’s father had a brother.”
“Who?”
“Jeremiah Mercer.”
Eliza remembered the name.
A drifter.
Dead before Thomas was born.
Cole continued.
“Jeremiah had an affair with Abigail Pike.”
Eliza looked at the record.
“So Harlan Pike was born a Mercer.”
“Biologically.”
“What does that prove about Hope?”
Cole turned several pages.
“Nothing by itself.”
Then he stopped at a later entry.
SARAH ELIZABETH PIKE.
Beside her name was another notation.
Same hereditary mark.
Eliza frowned.
“If Sarah inherited the mark from Pike…”
“Yes.”
“She could pass it to Hope.”
“Yes.”
“That still proves nothing about the father.”
Cole said, “Sarah wasn’t afraid because the child carried Pike blood.”
Eliza waited.
“She was afraid because of who else carried the same mark.”
A sound came from the front of the church.
The door opened.
Heavy footsteps entered.
Reverend Cole’s face drained.
Caleb reached for his pistol.
A man stepped into the aisle.
Elijah.
Bruised.
Bleeding.
Alive.
May you like
And behind him stood Silas Boone.
Holding a rifle to his back.
