Page 48 of A Good Prospect

“Where is Sal?”

“Is anyone dead?”

“How close has The League come?”

“Sal told me to—” Ophir started out, and this silenced the other two. They sat on the edges of their seats waiting for him to finish panting and tell the story. “Sal told me to take the Sonorans up to Hell Hollow and get the other men out of there.”

“Which way did he go?” Tamasin whispered.

“And that he would take the Frogs and get the men out of the mill. So I went up the ravine and got the rest out of the mine. We decided to head up the hill and avoid the narrow trail because we were sure The League would be riding up it any minute.” Ophir closed his eyes, hands patiently on his knees. “We got out all right—you probably saw the miners returning here—”

“Yes, we did. Without you.”

“Well, yes. Maybe one minute after we left the main mine shaft, that’s when the charges went off. They were trying to undermine the shoring to get the mine to cave in.”

“Did it?”

“I have no idea, for after I sent the men back here, I continued down the hill to see what was happening at the mill. But from the intensity of the blasts, I imagine they succeeded. So I rode to a vantage point where I could see the mill, but no one could see me. It was still quite dark, but I tied up my mount and crept closer.”

Tamasin wrenched Ophir’s hands in hers. “What then?”

He massaged her hands as though trying to soothe her. As if such a thing was possible! “I saw maybe fifteen League men surrounding the mill with weapons at the ready. I got close enough to hear bits of a few things Tyke was yelling at the…at the…”

“At the prisoners, jah!” Knut helpfully filled in.

Ophir shot him a frown. “At the citizens inside the mill. And it sounded a lot as though…Sal is refusing to surrender the mill.”

There was a long silence during which the only movement was chests heaving to sigh as everyone stared before them at the cow skin on the floor. Finally Knut rose and retrieved an aguardiente bottle from where they’d stowed them, inside a sideboard.

“I suppose that is good,” he said weakly. He gained strength with a few healthy swallows of liquor. “We cannot go around surrendering every single piece of land, every cow, everything we own!”

Tamasin cried, “Yes, but we cannot sit here like lame ducks waiting to be picked off!” She faced Ophir. “We must do something! This is our land, our business, our future! We have already let The League take over Hornitos, Quartzburg, and now Bear Valley just three miles to the south. Now we have an actual home to protect, and the livelihood of all these miners, not to mention our own future as anything other than starving pioneers!”

Ophir squeezed her hands hard, once, then stood. Folding his arms in front of his chest, he wandered to the window and frowned. Barely breathing, Tamasin waited for his response. Ophir was a father, trying to free and protect his children. He loved Sal, and had worked hard for the success of this land. He would never stand for having everything once more ripped from him.

“I’ve had many walks up the mountains in back of this house,” he said in a strange, remote voice. “With good glasses I’ve studied the countryside. From some spots one can actually see the waterfalls of the Ahwahnee.” Sighing deeply, he turned to Tamasin and his speech became livelier. “The thickets of manzanita and chaparral would hide a horse. Once past the Merced River, there’s a large mining camp of friendly men of strong character, men who don’t agree with The League. I met them when I was prospecting earlier this year, before I met Sal. These men would see me through to Coulterville.”

Tamasin was speechless. Her fiancé was a prisoner, under siege inside a stamp mill, and the other man she loved proposed to go riding off into mountains saturated with men who were basically bandits!

Knut spoke first. “That is a very well thought-out plan, jah! And I think it is our only plan, once one really ponders upon it.”

Tamasin stood, too. “Whydo you have to go, Ophir? Why can’t you just send a couple of prospectors? They must know the mountains as well as you do.”

Ophir shook his head. “They’re all so in fear for their own lives. The minute one of The League sees a Sonoran, he’ll shoot without question.”

Tamasin put her fists on her hips. “And they won’t shoot a black man?”

“Not unless they want full-blown war,” Ophir said tersely. “They’ve gotten away with terrorizing Spaniards so far, but the main partner of the Don of Las Oliveras? It would give them pause for thought.”

But Knut stepped in, raising his aguardiente cup up high. “Miss Tamasin. Listen to reason. We have no other choice. We can’t go storming the mill or men—our men—will be killed. We are at a very distinct and horrifying disadvantage right now. But if Ophir here can somehow get a message through to Coulterville, we can possibly drive off The League with the sheer numbers of marching men who come pouring across the Merced.”

Ophir nodded vigorously, and seemed surprised that Knut made sense for once. “Can you give me blank orders for any outlays I might require?”

Knut toasted Ophir and nodded seriously, as though establishing the New Roman Republic.

Ophir clapped Knut on the shoulder. “All right, then. Let me get more ammunition. I wasted some shooting at those damned outlaws.” He vanished from the parlor before Tamasin had a chance to protest.

“How dare you approve of his mission!”

Knut cringed back from Tamasin. “Miss! There are strange horsemen riding about firing off pistols. Absolutely someone must get us out of this muss!”

“Yes. And why does it have to be Ophir?” She wandered to the window. Outside, men were gravitating toward an approaching caballero who leaped off his mount and stormed purposefully up her front stairs.

Tamasin met him at the door. He was a Sonoran who saluted, and she recognized him as one she had sent to picket the road to Bear Valley. He must not have spoken much English, for he simply handed her a note, and she was too worried to even say gracias to him.

The note was written in pencil and so badly misspelled she didn’t bother handing it to Knut, instead reading it aloud. “It’s from Tyke McCarthy, addressed to me.”

Knut stood erect and alert, like a rabbit. “That blackguard!” he proclaimed.

“It says that last night in Bear Valley at a meeting, it was resolved that we—meaning the Americans, I presume—should be allowed twenty-four hours to leave this place. An escort will see us down to the plains. No harm will be done to us if we just take our clothing and belongings. But if we’re not gone within twenty-four hours, the house will be burned and we must…” Tamasin felt nauseous. “We must ‘take the consequences.’” The note was signed in big block letters: TIKE McCARTY, Alcald.

Knut seemed to stare past her, to the wall ten feet away. His pupils dilated so suddenly they seemed to darken the very room. “They want to entice us—mainly Don Salvador—away from the mines.”