Solitude Gorge, Page 3

  Banjo was one of only two tangible ties to his past. The other, a frayed and wrinkled image of his wife, daughter, and him taken days before he left for the war. He kept it tucked into a Bible, looking at it every night before turning in. Each time, he cursed himself for not being with them when they needed him most.

  Like many others, Travis had thought the war would be quick, the South becoming a sovereign nation, and he’d return to his farm. It hadn’t worked out the way anyone expected.

  Splendor

  Baron Ernst Klaussner slid into a black riding jacket, straightening the collar and sleeves, then glanced in the mirror. Satisfied, he picked up his top hat, placing it carefully on his head before grabbing his cane. Leaving his suite of rooms at the St. James Hotel, Ernst took the stairs to the lobby, nodding toward the young man at the front counter.

  “May I assist you, Baron?” Thomas’s eager expression never changed. He’d started at the hotel when it opened, washing dishes and scrubbing floors before advancing to a server position in the Eagle’s Nest restaurant. He’d recently been promoted to working at the front counter.

  “Not right now, Thomas.”

  “Shall I fetch your carriage or horse?”

  “I believe I’ll walk to the livery myself. I’ve heard the proprietor, Mr. Brandt, is quite a shootist. Perhaps he’ll be agreeable to providing lessons.”

  Thomas stared at Ernst, debating whether to tell him what most everyone in town already knew. An accomplished sharpshooter for the Union, Noah Brandt had little desire to use a firearm again, unless it meant protecting his family or the town. Deciding to let Noah make his own explanation, Thomas nodded.

  “Best of luck, Baron. I hope your discussion goes well.”

  “Good day to you, Thomas.” Stepping out into the noon sun, Ernst drew in a deep breath.

  When his father died, Ernst had assumed his role as the new baron, running businesses and properties, leaving little time for the activities he loved. Marrying helped settle him, and when his wife gave birth to their son, Johann, Ernst vowed to teach him all his father had taught him. They’d had little chance to be a family. Within a year of giving birth, his wife died of the fever, driving Ernst into deep despair. Paired with the political turmoil in Austria and Prussia, he’d crossed the Atlantic, bringing his son, servants, and vast fortune with him.

  After traveling to New York from Germany, he’d never quite felt comfortable. The city left him unsettled, even if it did offer the social activities he’d learned to appreciate growing up in an aristocratic family.

  He’d found a friend in Walter Evans, a well-respected banker and financier. Over time, Ernst revealed his dislike of New York and desire to teach Johann about the outdoors. He had come west at Walter’s suggestion, purchasing a ranch near Splendor, including a two-bedroom home, barn, corrals, and excellent pastureland.

  Within a week of their arrival, the house had been leveled and plans were drawn for an expansive log structure, one as opulent as any hunting lodge he’d visited in Europe. It wouldn’t be long before his new home would be completed, allowing him and Johann to move out of the St. James.

  Strolling down the boardwalk, he tipped his hat to an older couple, then a group of young women, and finally, two ranch hands walking into the Dixie. Ernst had become used to the curious stares, no longer considering it rude behavior as he had when he’d first arrived.

  “Ernst!”

  He shifted to look across the street. Walter Evans came striding toward him, his normally stoic expression replaced with an easy grin.

  “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  Ernst accepted Walter’s hand before turning toward the livery. “I’ve decided to have a word with Mr. Brandt at the livery. I’d like him to instruct me on the use of the American rifle.”

  Walter’s brows scrunched together. “Whatever for? From what you’ve said, you’re an excellent shot.”

  Ernst nodded. “With German firearms. I want to learn what they use here. I’ve been told Brandt is the best shot in Splendor.”

  Walter blew out a slow breath. His son, Gabe, and Noah had grown up together in New York, although Noah’s family hadn’t been of the same financial status as Gabe’s. The two had become as close as brothers. When they were ready to attend college, Walter had funded Noah’s education as well as Gabe’s. The advent of the war interrupted their education, both leaving to join the Union cause.

  Rubbing his neck, Walter glanced at the livery. “Noah is a superb marksman and a patient man. I doubt you’d find a better teacher, except…” He pursed his lips, not sure how to continue.

  Ernst lifted a brow. “Except?”

  “Being a sharpshooter changed him. Since the war, he picks up a gun to protect his family and friends. Never for sport.”

  “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten you’ve known the man since his youth.” Ernst clasped Walter on the shoulder. “Then you must come along. Help me convince him to accept my offer.”

  “I assure you, money won’t sway him.”

  Ernst’s gaze narrowed. “He works as a blacksmith and owns a livery. I’ve never heard of a wealthy man in such a trade.”

  Shaking his head, Walter chuckled. “All I’ll say is Noah married well.” Stroking his chin, he glanced between Ernst and the livery, an idea forming. “I have a suggestion. Come on, but allow me to speak with him first.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to ask Travis to select a horse for you, Isabella?” Noah wiped his hands on an old rag, stuffing it into his back pocket.

  “I’d prefer to do this on my own, Noah. Travis and Wyatt are working long hours to fulfill orders for the Army. Now isn’t the time to bother him with such a request.” Isabella grasped her hands in front of her, hoping Noah didn’t hear the tremor in her voice. She had no desire to explain how she and Travis were no longer as close as they’d once been, or that she’d never consider asking him such a favor.

  Crossing his arms, Noah studied her face, knowing she hadn’t given him a complete answer. Deciding the choice was hers, he looked out the open door to the livery in back.

  “I have a mare you might like. How long has it been since you’ve ridden?”

  “Luke lets me use a horse whenever I have the time and desire to ride. Travis usually goes with me, but, well…” She bit her lower lip, swallowing her hesitation. “It’s time I have my own horse.”

  “If you don’t want to ask Travis, Luke or Dax would be glad to provide one.”

  She looked at the ground, then raised her gaze to his. “Please, Noah. I’ve the money and would very much like to do this on my own.”

  Letting his arms fall to his sides, he nodded. “Do you have a saddle or bridle?”

  “I’d hoped you could help me select those, as well.”

  Noah had opened a saddlery and leather shop next to the livery, enjoying a brisk business with the local ranchers and many newcomers to Splendor.

  “Are you sure about this, Isabella?”

  “Yes, I am. I’ve thought about it quite a bit. It’s time for me to start doing more on my own.”

  Noah’s mouth tilted into a grin. “And a horse is the start?”

  Seeing the merriment in his eyes, she laughed. “Yes, it is.”

  “If you’re certain, follow me out back and we’ll look at the mare.” He pushed open the door, allowing her to pass in front of him before walking to a stall at the far end. “Her name is Blossom.”

  Isabella looked over the top of the stall, her breath catching. “My Lord, Noah. She’s beautiful. Where did you get her?”

  Resting a hand on the top rail, he shrugged. “From Dax and Luke. Travis trained her for me.”

  She stepped away from the stall. “You must have had a reason for buying her. I’m sure you have another horse suitable for me.”

  He looked into the stall. “I hadn’t planned to sell her, Isabella.” He rubbed his chin. “It will be a couple more years before my son is ready for his own horse and Blossom needs to be ridden. I thi
nk she’d be the perfect horse for you. ‘Course, that depends on if you want a horse Travis trained.” His gaze locked with hers, as if he suspected more than what she’d told him.

  Lifting her chin, Isabella nodded. “Blossom is perfect.”

  “Would you like to ride her before deciding?”

  She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. If you say Blossom is perfect, I’m certain she is. I’ll need everything we discussed, and I don’t want you taking less money than you should.”

  Noah chuckled. He’d already planned to give her a bargain on Blossom. “I’ll sell her to you for what she cost me.”

  Setting her hands on her hips, she gave him a stern look. “You certainly will not. I’ll pay you twice what you paid and not a cent less.”

  Shaking his head, he quoted a price.

  “That seems awfully reasonable. You’d better not be fibbing to me, Noah Brandt. I have ways of finding out.”

  Chuckling, he gave a quick nod toward Blossom. “I’ll take fifty dollars more than what I paid and no more, Isabella. Accept it, or I’ll keep the horse.”

  Her lips twitched as she nodded. “It’s a deal, Noah.” She held out her hand.

  He grasped it, giving it a gentle shake. “Now, let’s find you a saddle.”

  Chapter Three

  Ernst and Walter waited just inside the blacksmith shop, listening to the conversation between Noah and Isabella. When she held out her hand to Noah, Ernst’s brows rose and eyes widened.

  “Is that woman completing a business transaction, Walter?”

  “Why, yes, I believe she is. I’m learning women are quite independent out west. Much more so than in New York.”

  “Or Germany. Who is she?”

  Walter took Ernst’s elbow, drawing him farther into the blacksmith shop. “Mrs. Isabella Boucher. She’s a close friend of Gabe’s wife, Lena. They’ve known each other for many years.”

  “Why wouldn’t Mrs. Boucher’s husband conduct the transaction? It would seem much more proper.”

  Walter chuckled. Before the need arose to travel west to speak with Gabe, he would’ve thought the same. He’d stayed for the wedding of his daughter, Nora, to Wyatt Jackson. Afterward, Walter decided to extend his visit several more weeks, long enough to try to forge a better relationship with his two oldest children. He’d learned a great deal about the men and women who’d chosen to forge a new life in the west.

  “Mrs. Boucher’s husband died a few years ago. From what I understand, she lives with Luke and Ginny Pelletier at their place a mile or so away from Dax and Rachel. Although she never had children of her own, Lena and Nora tell me she’s quite gifted with them.”

  Ernst’s voice lowered. “She’s a widow?”

  Walter studied his friend’s face, seeing more than a casual interest. “Yes, she is. Would you like me to introduce you?”

  A solemn expression appeared on Ernst’s face. “I would be grateful.”

  “All right, but I must tell you. I’ve heard there is a cowhand on the Pelletier ranch who may have an interest in her.”

  “A cowhand with an interest in a woman of such fine background?” Ernst had the good sense to realize what he’d said an instant before Walter’s mouth opened. “I mean no disrespect. I know Nora’s husband also works for the Pelletiers.”

  Walter forced away the anger at someone disparaging his daughter’s choice in a husband, realizing the hypocrisy in his reaction. He’d felt the same when Nora first told him who she planned to marry.

  “You’ll find there are several women of means in Splendor, Ernst. Many have chosen to marry men who make their living with their hands.”

  Clearing his throat, Ernst nodded. “This way of thinking is quite new to me, Walter. No woman of my class in Germany would’ve been allowed to marry a man so far beneath her.”

  Chuckling, Walter gave a crisp nod. “Not so different from where I grew up in New York.”

  Both men quieted at the sound of voices out front. Turning, they saw Isabella and Noah approach.

  “Mr. Evans. I wasn’t expecting you today.” Noah held out his hand to Walter.

  “Noah, I believe you’ve met Baron Klaussner.”

  “I have.” He shook Ernst’s hand, then looked at Isabella. “Have you met Mrs. Boucher, Baron?”

  Ernst shook his head. “I’ve not had the pleasure.” He bowed to Isabella. “Mrs. Boucher, I’m Baron Ernst Klaussner.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Baron.” She shifted her gaze to Noah. “I’ll be back in two hours. Will that be enough time?”

  Noah nodded. “More than enough.”

  “Wonderful. I’m quite excited about the purchase.” She looked at the other men. “Good day, gentlemen. It was a pleasure to meet you, Baron Klaussner.”

  Ernst made another bow, then straightened. “Mrs. Boucher.”

  Watching until she’d continued along the boardwalk, Noah turned to Walter. “What can I do for you?”

  Ernst took a step forward. “Actually, I am the one with a request. I understand you are quite the marksman, Mr. Brandt.”

  Noah’s features stilled. He seldom spoke of his expertise as a sharpshooter. Most in Splendor knew better than to ask him about his experience during the war.

  “I was a sharpshooter for the Union, Baron, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of your background and that you rarely pick up a weapon any longer.”

  He studied the man’s face, knowing the baron would continue with whatever he had to say. “That’s true.”

  Ernst ignored Noah’s warning look. “In any case, I have a proposal for you.”

  Glancing at Walter, Noah saw him give a slight shrug, an indication for him to at least listen to what Ernst had to say. “What do you want from me?”

  “A little of your time. I need instruction on your American weapons, and I believe you’re the man to teach me. I’ve quite a bit of experience from hunting during my youth, but it’s been a long time.”

  Noah’s mouth drew into a thin line as he took a moment to consider the request. Shaking his head, he met Ernst’s waiting gaze. “Between my businesses and family, I’m afraid I’ve little time left over.”

  “I’m willing to pay a generous sum for your time. Plus, I’d like my son, Johann, to learn from you, as well.”

  Noah had met twelve-year-old Johann. Lena’s son, Jack, had befriended the boy soon after his arrival in Splendor, helped him meet other children, and made him feel welcome. He hated to turn the man down.

  “Bull Mason is as good a marksman as me.”

  “Yes, I know of Bull’s background. The man is quite busy overseeing the construction of my house and working at the Pelletier ranch.” Ernst had made an agreement with Dax, Luke, and Bull about employing him to provide plans for his home. He’d supervise the building and continue his work as one of the foremen at Redemption’s Edge.

  Letting out a breath, Noah nodded. He knew Bull had little time to provide training to Ernst. “I can spare one day. Meet me here Saturday after breakfast. I’ll teach you as much as I can, but we must be finished by noon.”

  Holding out his hand, a broad smile crossed Ernst’s face. “Wonderful, Mr. Brandt. Johann and I will see you Saturday.”

  Gripping Ernst’s hand, Noah glanced at Walter, seeing a satisfied tilt to his mouth. He’d always been close to Gabe’s father, respected him, and after all these years, still felt the need to please the man. Providing a few hours to Ernst seemed little in comparison to what Walter had given him.

  Even so, as Noah watched them leave, he already regretted his decision.

  Redemption’s Edge

  “I think we have all of them, boys.” Travis circled Banjo around the agitated band of wild horses they’d discovered in a nearby canyon. He reined up next to Mal, a ranch hand who’d been with the Pelletiers for a couple years. “You all right leading them back to the ranch?”

  Looking over the size of the herd, Mal nodded. �
��Yep. The boys and me can get them home. Where are you headed?”

  Travis looked past him at the mountains to the west. “I’m going to ride over to Solitude Gorge.”

  Mal knew the spot. “Are you thinking there might be more horses there?”

  Shrugging, Travis squinted into the retreating sun. “Maybe. I’ve seen them there before.”

  “Then I’ll have Tat take this herd back and go with you.”

  Travis shook his head. “It’s a long shot, Mal. If there are horses, it’ll be a small herd. I can handle them alone.”

  Mal studied him, knowing there was more to Travis’s desire to go alone than he wanted to say. “If that’s what you want. I’ll talk with the boys and we’ll start back.”

  Travis helped them form the herd, riding at the back for a hundred yards before reining his horse west. His body relaxed the farther he rode. He found an immense sense of satisfaction in rounding up wild horses and training them to fulfill the Army contracts. Since making the decision about Isabella, he’d found little pleasure in anything. He hoped spending a few hours at what he considered his private spot would refresh him, give him a new sense of himself and a purpose.

  Winding up the rocky path, he peered ahead to a narrow valley. Rocky walls rose on both sides, a churning creek splitting the distance between them.

  The Frey brothers, two widowers who sold their property to Dax and Luke before moving away, told the story of how a band of Blackfoot had survived a winter between the protective walls of the valley.

  Enough game wandered into the narrow passage to provide food during the harsh winter. The ice-covered stream offered an ample supply of water and fish. Many in the small village balked when the time came to move. They’d found solitude and peace between the sheer rock cliffs. Over time, locals began referring to the narrow valley as Solitude Gorge. Travis found himself drawn to it whenever he required time alone, quiet moments to reflect on his life and future.