Page 14 of Calder Country

As she bathed, pinned up her unruly curls, and slipped into her one good dress—a second-hand pale green crepe with a dropped waist and pleated hemline—Ruby couldn’t shake a deep sense of foreboding. Her father was excited about the chance to win them both a better life. But the men they’d be meeting didn’t care about that. All they wanted was to use Art for their own illegal purposes. If things went wrong, they would turn their backs and leave him to his fate.

She knew better than to try and change Art’s mind. All she could do was be there, support him, and try to keep him safe. There were times when she felt more like his parent than his child. This was one of them.

She surveyed her reflection in the cheap mirror that was mounted on the back of the door. She’d bought the dress from a second-hand store in Kansas City. Even used, it had been expensive, but the fit was perfect, the color a nice contrast with her dark eyes and auburn hair. Her only jewelry was a fine gold necklace with a tiny airplane pendant. Art had bought it in a pawn shop and given it to her for her last birthday. Her kidskin slippers were so old that they fit her feet like gloves. Her only makeup was the barest touch of lipstick.

A memory of the day flashed through her mind—the tall stranger gazing down at her, his jade green eyes hard, as he insisted on paying extra to have her take him on his flight. She’d almost killed them both, and afterward he’d treated the whole adventure as a lark. A man without emotion. She hadn’t liked him. All she wanted was to put the experience behind her, especially the look he’d given her before he’d walked away. But those careless green eyes continued to haunt her.

Ruby forced her thoughts back to the present. Her father wanted her to help him make a good impression tonight. She knew that she’d be putting on an act for his sake. She forced herself to smile at her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth looked convincing enough. But her eyes were like a captive animal’s, restless and wary, brimming with distrust.

A rap from the outside of the door blurred her reflection in the mirror. “Are you ready, Ruby? They’ll be expecting us downstairs.” Her father’s voice rang with optimism. Ruby suspected he might’ve had an illegal drink to bolster his confidence.

“I’m ready,” she said, reaching to unfasten the chain lock on the door.

“Then let’s be on our way,” he said. “This could be the night that changes both our lives forever.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WITH THE SUN SINKING IN THE WEST, MASON POCKETED A FLASHLIGHT and a pistol, saddled a horse, and rode south across the pastures to the boundary of the Hollister Ranch. He didn’t remember much about the cave he’d discovered as a boy. But if he could find it again, it might prove useful.

Everything Sidney had said about conditions on the ranch was true—the broken fences, the weedy pastures pocked with clumps of thistle, prairie dog towns and badger holes; the scattered cows, barely enough for breeding stock, their ribs showing through their dusty hides. Everywhere he looked, he saw things that needed attention. But they would have to wait. Right now, he had more urgent matters on his mind.

Pausing the horse on a low rise, Mason surveyed the neglected land. His eyes traced a path along the foothills that bordered the farthest pasture. Beyond the flats, the ranch property was a wilderness of scrubby mesas and shallow box canyons, a hideout for occasional renegades and outlaws, unfit for grazing cattle or any kind of farming.

Shielding his eyes from the setting sun, Mason focused his thoughts on a time in the distant past. He’d been hunting varmints with Blake—back when the two half-brothers were boys and still friends. They’d been tracking a coyote when they lost the trail and came across the cave entrance. They might have gone exploring, but the large bones that littered the entrance had warned them off. Blake had sworn he heard a growl from inside the cave. Mason had taken him at his word. The boys had told no one and never returned to the spot.

Now Mason rode along the edge of the pasture, scanning the foothills for a clue to the cave’s location. The overgrown brush and the absence of tracks suggested that no one had been out here in a long time. But where was the entrance? Maybe he’d remembered the location wrong. He kept on looking.

The sun vanished below the horizon, leaving a glow like the last dying coals of a bonfire. Shadows lengthened as twilight crept over the landscape. Even with the help of his flashlight, Mason couldn’t see more than a few yards ahead. A bat darted past his face, then another and another. They swarmed into the sky, filling the darkness with their high-pitched cries.

Were they coming from the cave?

Looking toward the source, he saw it, darkly outlined against the risen moon. The craggy outcrop was familiar—he remembered the shape of it now, like the head of a giant wolf. The entrance to the cave would be behind it, concealed in deep shadow.

Senses prickling, he rode closer, dismounted, and tethered his horse to a dead stump. Before moving forward, he drew the pistol, a hefty Colt .45.

Moonlight flooded the ground. Mason breathed easier as he saw that the dry vegetation was untrampled. It appeared that no large animal had been here for some time. But that didn’t rule out snakes or even hornets. He’d already seen bats.

Willing himself to stay calm, he rounded the outcrop and stepped into the cave. The entrance was littered with bones, but they were dry and long since picked clean. The odor of bat guano assailed his nostrils. If he used the cave, something would need to be done about that, and the bats as well. That aside, as he directed the flashlight beam at the cave’s walls and ceiling, he liked what he saw. There was enough width and height in the entrance to park and unload a good-sized vehicle. From outside, the approach was well beyond the sight of anyone at the ranch house. There was no road to the cave, but the ground could be leveled to drive on. With no easy water source, grazing cattle would be unlikely to wander this far.

The entrance was clear of bats and their droppings, but Mason’s nose told him the creatures had come from this cave, maybe from someplace deeper inside. Gripping the flashlight in one hand and the pistol in the other, he followed the narrowing passage for a dozen yards until it opened up into a room the size of a large parlor.

Standing in the entrance, he directed the flashlight beam over the walls and ceiling. This was the bats’ roosting place. A few of them were still here, fluttering in the unexpected light. This appeared to be a dry cave. There was no sound of dripping water, none of the typical cave formations. All to the good for his purpose.

The floor of the cave—that would be the challenge. It was littered with droppings, the bones of dead bats, and heaven knew what else. Snakes? Rats?

Mason had tied his bandanna over his nose and mouth to keep out the worst of the foul odor. The place would need to be fumigated with smoke, or more likely burned out. But once it was clear, this room would be deep enough in the hillside to maintain a stable temperature, even in winter. And the space would hold enough crates of liquor to supply a town the size of Miles City for a year.

He could do this. If he could find the money and make his plan work, he’d be rich beyond his wildest dreams. Richer, even, than Webb Calder.

What if the cave went even deeper? Mason used the light to search for another opening. But he found none. This chamber appeared to be the end. For now, it would be enough.

Preparing to leave, he used the flashlight to give the place a final inspection. That was when he noticed something moving through the debris on the floor. A rat—and where there was one, there were bound to be others. Mason hated rats. He’d seen too many of them in prison. Still, he followed the animal with the light as it foraged toward the back of the cave.

That was when he saw something else. His throat jerked as if a noose had been pulled tight around his neck.

Lying against the far wall was the desiccated body of a man.

Mason had seen death before. But the scene that met his eyes now jolted him like an electric shock. Knowing better than to walk into the morass on the cave floor, he stood rooted in the entrance, his hand gripping the flashlight.

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