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It was rough terrain. Granite boulders, trees and shrubs, small valleys, tall grasses.
“I spent days on end in these parts,” Albie said. “As a small child, not much older than three. Sunup till sundown. I could play and hide all day. I could get some distance. Some days I was lucky my horse knew which way was home.”
Percy gave a bit of a nod. “We lived on flatter, low ground. But my days were mostly spent at school. On weekends I helped out on the farm, never really venturing too far.” Then he shrugged. “Until I ventured here.”
Albie gave him a smile. “I’m grateful for that.”
Percy felt himself blush, but he blamed it on the bitter cold. He pulled his collar up against the bite of wind and sleet... until he remembered there was a small child out in this weather. No doubt ill-dressed for it.
And with a sense of urgency, he pushed Bandit a little harder and called out the boy’s name.
Chapter Thirteen
The weather turned bad. The low clouds made it impossible to tell the difference between sleet and snow. Percy had veered off a little, yelling for the boy, though Albie kept an eye on him. The last thing he needed was for him to get lost too.
Albie pushed closer to where his property met McAllister’s. He had spent his childhood in these mountains. Clearing his mind in the tall trees and long grasses for days at a time. Not so much in this poor weather though.
And he didn’t like the idea of a small child being lost out here at all.
The thick tree cover afforded a break in the wind at least, though the cold seemed to come from the ground up. Once it got in your bones, it was hard to warm up.
He thought he heard other men call out the boy’s name, though he couldn’t be sure if the mountains were playing tricks on his ears, the way these mountains and the wind sometimes would. Bearings and thoughts could get all turned around, and when it was this cold and wet, your mind couldn’t see reason.
Even Albie wasn’t sure how far they’d gone now. Too far, perhaps. He knew there was a drop-off coming up soon, the ridgeline, but surely a small child couldn’t have come this far on foot. He wondered if they should double back and spread out some more when he heard Percy yell. “Albie!”
There was an urgency in his tone that put Albie on alert. He spun Minnie to the sound and she fought her way through ferns and trees, through a gully, and up on the other side and through the thicket, he saw Bandit by the cliff edge... minus Percy. Albie raced over, sliding off his horse before she’d even stopped, and he rushed to the edge. “Percy!”
“Down here,” he yelled.
And when he peered over, he saw Percy on a ledge holding a small boy with a muddy and tear-streaked face. He’d taken his own coat off, wrapped the boy up, though Albie could see his muddy, scratched and bleeding bare feet.
Barefoot. Out here.
Then he noticed a line of blood running down Percy’s face.
“I’ll get you up,” Albie said.
The ledge wasn’t that far down, maybe eight feet, nine at best. And even though they couldn’t see anything over the edge for the misty clouds, Albie knew the drop-off wasn’t the longest in these parts, not by a long shot. But it’d mean death if a man were to fall off it, much less a child. And while it wasn’t a sheer rock face, the earth was now slippery mud, and Albie could see the slide marks that Percy had made on his descent.
Albie took the rope from his saddle and rushed back, tying one end to Minnie and dropping the other end over the edge to Percy. “Hold on. We’ll pull you up.”
Percy clung onto the boy with his left arm and with his right, he wound the rope around his wrist, gripping tight. “Ready.”
Albie urged Minnie forward, nice and steady, and slowly, inch by torturous inch, they pulled Percy and Christopher up.
Albie helped him up the last part, desperately checking both their faces, ensuring himself that they were okay. “You’re bleeding,” Albie said to Percy, wiping at the blood on the side of his face.
“I’m fine,” Percy said quickly. He was pale, scared, his hands shaking, teeth chattering. He was without his coat now, it was still wrapped around the boy, and Christopher still clung to his neck. Albie wasn’t game to separate them.
“Take Minnie,” Albie said. “She knows her way back.” He helped him up into the saddle, handing him the reins. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.” He gave Minnie a tap on the rump to get her moving.
He wound up his rope and ran over to Bandit, urging him to follow. Then he remembered...
Fire your rifle if you find him.
He took out the rifle, aimed it at the grey sky, and pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening in the silence, echoing through the valley. Birds took the skies, crying as they went, and Bandit skittered but Albie managed to hold him.
He knew that would send all the men homeward, and he needed to be one of them. He dug Bandit in the flanks and headed back as fast as the terrain would allow.
