Blood and Ashes

by Beppina

It would be a lazy ride across country trails to Placerville. Pa had given me his usual warning pep talk before I had ridden out.

“Let me know you have arrived. You’re booked into the hotel. You’ve got the signed bank draft and contract.” He repeated every instruction at least three times as though I was a green boy of fifteen rather than the grown man I had been for some time now.

“Yes, Pa. No, Pa. Anything else, Pa?” I had responded with just a hint of sarcasm in my tone. That in turn brought a withering glare from my father, then followed by a smile of acknowledgment.

“Okay,” He finished, “You’ve heard it all before. See you in a couple of weeks. Take care, Son.”

“Bye, Pa, you too.”

With a firm handshake, we parted company, Pa to his bookwork and me to my journey.

Placerville was ninety miles from the Ponderosa. I could have made the trip by stagecoach, which would be crowded and uncomfortable. I had lost count of the times I had to sit on the floor. Stagecoach was not my favourite mode of transport. So, out of preference, I decided to take Cochise. I had told my father that if time permitted, I might try for a deer on the return journey. Hop Sing always appreciated fresh venison at this time of year.

Placerville was not a big place. I knew my way around, having been many times in the past. My task in the town would take one or two days at most. That there would be plenty of time to see the few sights was a bonus I would not waste. If I timed it right, I could have a day to myself with whatever entertainment I could scare up. Then I would make my way home, hopefully with a deer in time for my birthday, which was only two weeks away.

After having a good hot bath and a tasteless meal of leather-like steak and watery potatoes at my hotel, I felt refreshed and ready to face the railway representatives on Pa’s behalf. I was prepared to argue regarding certain points on the deal in hand, and I knew to the dollar our wiggle room. I could sense they were a little surprised they had me to deal with rather than my father, but our meeting went well. I was surprised to be told they were all in agreement and happy with our contracts. They accepted our conditions with enthusiasm, and we sealed our partnership with firm handshakes and brandy.

My hunting trip looked better already.

I was able to set off for home earlier than I had first anticipated. It had been an easy decision, as there wasn’t one decent saloon in the town. There were times when Virginia City got rough and ready, but Placerville appeared to be a bubbling cauldron of trouble. The miners had taken over a couple of the drinking houses. They were raucous, lawless places. Guns were not the problem. Here, those men used pike handles and shovels. I enjoyed a fight as much as the next man, but most of the miners were the size of Hoss or bigger. Sometimes, just sometimes I do show a little common sense and avoid trouble. The saloons had not been worth the effort of a visit. There were no pretty girls to tempt me; only the weakest and warmest beers had been offered as refreshments. I didn’t want the hassle and was tired of the tense atmosphere that filled the town. I decided it was time to move on. The idea of an extra day or so of hunting appealed more than ever. With only a cursory backward glance at Placerville, I turned Cochise towards the trail home.

My first day and night travelling were uneventful. The road was easy. We’d not had any snowfalls or the usual downpours and storms, so it was a good, solid trail we followed. Give it another month at most, and it could be a different story. By Christmas, it could be impassable.

I enjoyed the peace of my journey. I didn’t meet a soul travelling from either direction. This was quite normal. Most folks liked to take the stage between the towns. And there weren’t too many who lived this far out from civilisation.

I reckoned I was just over a day’s ride from home, so it was time to look for a deer for Hop Sing.

The temperature had dropped rapidly as we climbed the trail. My breath was visible as a fine mist in the colder air. More trees clung to the mountainside where before it had been flat and mostly grass or scrub. In some places, the shale had made for much slower travel. On a few occasions, when the trail had narrowed and steepened, I was forced to lead Cochise on foot. To one side was a sheer drop into a deep, and from my vantage point, dark ravine. I heard running water from an unseen source and wondered if there was a waterfall or stream lower down in the ravine. I took a cautious look over the side and decided a stumble or fall here would prove fatal. So it was with great care we had picked our way up through the tree line into the heavier wooded land.

Our progress was slow. I checked for deer scat and any other signs of their being around. I did spot some blood on a pine trunk, but it proved to be old, not a recent addition. Onward we went. My eyes scanned through the trees and searched for deer and other bigger, more dangerous species. Bears and mountain lions were common up here in the Sierras.

A soft noise to one side pulled me up sharply. My rifle was gripped tight as I peered around. Cochise stood motionless. He knew something was nearby and was ready to flee if attacked.

My heartbeat changed; from a steady thud, it became a rapid drumbeat. Excitement raced through my veins when I spotted two deer grazing in a small clearing before me. I took a moment to slow my breathing, and I raised my rifle. It had become an extension of my arms. I let go of my breath and squeezed the trigger…

Excruciating pain and weight shot across my shoulders and back. I fell to my knees. Rancid breath filled my face, and ivory teeth the size of daggers snapped shut before my eyes. Paws the size of dinner plates with claws fully extended ripped at my back and arms. Every part of my being fought against this massive cat that had me pinned to the ground. My heart wanted to escape my chest as it beat so hard. My breathing took second place to my fight back. Fear gave me the strength to push the snapping, biting, clawing weight of the mountain lion to one side. That moment was enough to grab my pistol, and without thinking, I fired. It screamed! Well, I think it was the cat that screamed, but it could have been me. I fired again, slightly higher this time, and the beast collapsed onto me. I fell back exhausted and struggled to get my breath. The whole thing had taken only minutes but seemed like an hour. My mind replayed the scene as I realised how lucky I had been. Now I had to get myself up and move away from this dead creature.

Through the pain, I managed to crawl from under the dead animal. Bright red blood covered my jacket and shirt. My trousers were soaked to a coppery hue. How much was my blood and how much was from the dead cat I could not tell. I just knew I was bleeding badly and needed help quickly.

Somehow, I managed to whistle. Cochise appeared from between the trees. He was reluctant to approach, aware of the smell and suggested danger of the big cat, but true to his nature, he moved closer when I called his name.

I struggled to stand but failed. Sheer willpower urged me to crawl forward and closer to Cooch until I was within reach of the stirrups. Daggers angrily stabbed at my back. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I swallowed that sensation, took a deep ragged breath, and pulled at my stirrups. Then with some difficulty, I dragged myself half upright.

“Stay, Cooch,” I muttered, as I tried to get a foot up and into the strap. “Easy boy.”

On the third attempt, I was half on, half off my horse. Gritting my teeth against the never-ending hurt, I swung a leg across Cochise’s back. Now I could see more rivulets of blood running down my pants. That big cat had worked me over good and proper.

Cochise moved forward, his pace no more than walking speed. I was beyond guiding him. And to be honest, I had no idea which way to go. I was slumped across his neck, my hand wrapped in the mane. I had given myself over to my horse’s sense of direction. I only hoped we would come across another human being before I bled out from my injuries.

“Drink this…” A soft voice broke through my darkness, “You need to try.”

A cold hand reached behind my head and raised it enough for me to get a sip of water.

“Where?” I could only mutter, my throat dry and sore.

“My house, I found you a ways back.”

“My horse?”

“He’s fine, in the barn.”

“Thank you. Name’s Joe. Joe Cartwright.”

“I’m Alice Higgs, that’s my boy, Timmy.” She waved her hand towards a small blond boy seated at the table.

Through squinty eyes, I just made out the child watching me. From what I could see, he resembled his mother. She was blonde and slight-of-build, with her hair tied up in a loose bun. Her face bore a sad and tired expression.

” Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, a mountain lion. I didn’t see it until it jumped me.”

“Joe, you’ve some deep slashes. I’m gonna have to stitch them. I’ve some laudanum if that’ll help.”

I’d managed a glance around the room. It was clean and tidy though it felt cold even as the fire and range both burned bright. I hoped that it was clean enough not to get an infection. She moved the oil lamp closer for more light, I noticed it flicker gently in the cold draught as she moved to the side of the bed. I nodded, “Just do it.” Willingly, I took the proffered glass of medicine. I hated the stuff but knew how much stitches would hurt. I’d rather have a drug-induced headache than start screaming like a child while she did her worst.

I woke the following day, according to what Alice told me. I hurt in every part of my body. If it wasn’t from the claws and bites, it was from the solid weight as the cat had hit me. I think the only bit of me that had not been bruised, bitten, or scratched was my face. If I’m honest, that was a relief to know. Alice kept me supplied with water and broth, and she must have slipped laudanum into my drinks as I seemed to be out of pain some of the time, and sleeping for much of the rest.

During my wakeful moments, she told me about her family. Alice was widowed, she had lived in this cabin since her marriage and stayed on after her husband died. A sense of sadness prevailed around her. She was quietly pretty but her pale, watery blue eyes seemed almost cold and lifeless. Alice still grieved for her husband, I was sure this was the reason for her sad demeanour. The land she owned wasn’t productive but was sufficient to feed her and Timmy. She told me her husband had died fighting a wildfire a few years before. Alice spoke only of her husband and child and this small parcel of land, so I assumed there were no neighbours, friends, or family to help her. Of course, I was sorry for her and thought we could help her when I got home. Perhaps I could make her smile again. I was sure Pa would be open to any suggestions I made in payment for saving my life. Maybe a better plot of land on the Ponderosa would suit her and the boy. I would suggest the idea to her before I left. I had no romantic inclinations towards her, I just wanted to help if I could.

Another day had elapsed. I didn’t feel so good now. My temperature had risen, and I felt feverish and sick. Some of the slashes were red and angry and hot to the touch. I had begun to ramble and lost all sense of reality. Alice still tended to me. I heard her voice trying to calm me and her gentle touch as she bathed my face and torso with cool water.

Sometimes, I saw burnt walls and wasteland in my head as I thrashed around in the small bed. The covers fell to the floor only to be replaced and tucked under the pallet. Timmy remained seated and watched from his place at the table. I never heard him speak. I guess he was scared of my ravings as the fever took hold.

Time had lost all meaning. I had no idea where I was or what was happening. My body boiled and sweated with the throes of fever. In my delirium, I cried out for Alice. Where was she? Why had she left me?

“It’s okay, Joe,” A familiar voice broke into my confused head. “You’re safe now.”

“Looks like a mountain lion got ‘im,” another voice broke in, “an’ slashed him badly.”

“Someone’s cleaned them and stitched some of them.”

“I’ll get some water boiling,” I recognised Candy’s voice, “clean him up a bit. I’ll check on Cochise too.”

I heard them moving about, talking in soft tones, and then another blanket was placed across my shoulders.

“Alice…” I murmured. “Alice?”

“Pa’s here, Joe,” Pa again, “You’re going to be okay.”

“Pa? How, why…? Was I imagining my father beside me? Where had he come from and how did he know where to find me?”

“You’re over a week late, son. We tracked you from Placerville,” Pa’s voice again. “Just rest, Joe, close your eyes now, try to sleep.”

“Where’s Alice? She was here. Where is she, the girl, Pa? The girl and little boy?”

Ben looked at Candy, who shrugged, “She’s gone, Joe. Two years ago, do you remember?”

Did he think I was calling for my Alice, who had died only two short years before?

“She was here. Alice, she saved me,” I struggled to sit up. I needed to see her, speak to her.

“There’s no one here, Joe. Only Candy and me.”

Through my fever, I struggled to look around the room for Alice and Timmy. The space was different. Where was the table? The fire and range? I was on a rickety old bunk. Some stale straw was my mattress. An old horse blanket was my only cover. Where was the soft bed covered with cotton linen? I looked up, and I saw daylight through the roof. One side of the cabin was missing, and the darkening sky was visible.

“I don’t understand, ” I was too fever-ridden to find the words to explain. Pa didn’t press me for more information. With a gentle pass of his work-worn hand across my forehead he left me to rest. I fell into a disturbed, dream-filled sleep. Alice and Timmy were smiling, although they were waving goodbye to me. Why had they left without telling me?

I spent another two days with Pa at my cot-side while I fought the fever. His voice was a constant litany of encouragement for me to drink and fight. His hands were in constant contact with me as he mopped the sweat from my face and torso. In my calmer moments, his presence was the comfort only my Pa could give me.

 Candy was busy with the preparations to travel home. He had considered a travois but the apparent lack of trees and the distance we needed to travel made that an impossible solution.

We were too far from the Ponderosa or Placerville to bring a wagon, so it was decided they would take turns riding double with me until we reached the trail to Virginia City. Candy would then detour to the ranch for a wagon. I was beyond caring now. I just wanted to be home.

With my spare shirt against my torn and sore skin and what remained of my jacket across my shoulders, Pa helped me out into the yard and the waiting horses. Cochise stood alongside his stable mates and none the worse for his experience with the lion.

I’d looked around at what I had believed was a small cabin and barn. The cabin was a burnt-out wreck, a bare skeleton of what had been a home. All that remained was the stone-built chimney pointing heavenward. My Pa had found me on a cot in the semi-derelict barn. Two sides of it had been destroyed by fire, and only the area where I had been found was intact.

Alice had never spoken of a fire here, only of the one that had taken her husband. The whole situation made me question my sanity.

“Come with me, Joseph,” Pa led me away to a burnt stub of an old tree. At the base were two crosses, laid side by side, a small, engraved plaque between them read.

Here lie the earthly remains of Alice Higgs 1845-1870

and her son Timothy James 1866-1870.

Beloved wife and son of James Higgs 1840-1868.

I staggered against my father as I read the words. His strong arms gave me support as I absorbed them. I couldn’t believe what I could see. I hadn’t dreamed it. She had been here, she had cared for me, tended to my injuries, and saved my life. But their graves made a lie of what I thought to be true.

“I was going to ask her to come home with me, come away from here,” I told him in an almost inaudible voice. I was sure Pa thought I had gone mad.

“I know,” Those were his only words. There was no hint of doubt that he believed everything I had seen. My father’s love for me never questioned my word.

I looked around the little graveyard. I saw for the first time the desolation that surrounded it. The land blackened in places. Though in others, the grass and trees had burst into new life. I had seen all of this in my fever-fueled dreams. We knew from experience that sometimes a fire could have beneficial properties for the land, but at what cost to man and wildlife? We had fought bad wildfires over the years and lost men who were friends as well as employees. Some livestock had been killed too when the fires had raged out of control. How terrified had Alice and Timmy felt when all hope was gone? I saw my own house in flames, my Alice, my wife, frightened beyond belief as she died. I was only too aware of those costs. I shared the pain that Alice and Timmy had suffered.

And my heart broke.

In those few moments, I was thankful for my father’s presence.

We were ready to head out. I wasn’t well enough to ride alone, but I asked Pa to let me try for a while. I promised to stop and ride double with him if I was hurting or tired.

In a single file, Pa led the way, and Candy followed. I eased Cooch forward and then stopped by the graves. “Goodbye, Alice. Goodbye, Timmy,” My words were for their ears only. “Thank you.”

I chanced to look back to the burnt-out cabin. There, in front of the now intact door, stood Alice and Timmy. Both waved and smiled at me. Alice turned to the door, and a tall, dark-haired, smiling man stepped onto the porch beside her. Alice was reunited with her husband. With a tip of my hat to them all, I turned and followed Candy from the yard. As the house disappeared behind us I felt a lightness of heart, I hoped they would forever remain at peace together. Maybe Alice helping me to live had paved the way back for her husband. I vowed I would find out the truth about the Family Higgs and if possible would bring James’ remains back to be with his wife and son.

The End.

Word count: 3422

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