Drew closed his eyes and nodded at the same time. Jim didn’t hold out much hope that he’d remember.
When Jim reached the small brick home on one of the few back streets of Rawhide, he parked his truck and hurried to the front door. Knocking, he called, “Mrs. Anderson? It’s Jim Randall. Can you let me in?”
The door opened slowly. A woman he remembered as vibrant appeared pale and worn as she peered at him through the screen. Slowly she pushed it open and gestured for him to enter.
“Mrs. Anderson, I need to know what has happened to Patience. You said she’s gone after her little boy? Won’t that be dangerous?”
“Yes. I told her not to go. But she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Where did she go?”
“Up in the mountains. The boy’s father has a camp up there. He…he just came to our house and grabbed the boy. And he cleaned out our pantry and left some worthless coins in place of the groceries.”
Jim frowned. “What do you mean, worthless coins?”
The woman hurried to a pine dresser. She picked up something and returned to Jim.
“These,” she said as she poured five small tin disks into his hand.
“Did you show them to the sheriff?” he asked.
“What’s the point? He already said he wouldn’t help us.”
“Why?”
“Because we never did anything legally about Tommy. Patience never formally adopted him. Legally, Joseph, his father, has custody.”
“Why do you think he’s dangerous?”
“Because he’s crazy. He wants Tommy to be a soldier!”
“And you told the sheriff this?”
“He told us he couldn’t do anything.”
Jim was as frustrated as Patience’s mother sounded. “I’ll go talk to the sheriff.”
“But what about Patience and Tommy?” She gave him a pleading look, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Awkwardly he patted her arm. “I’ll do what I can.” He turned and left.
A sharp wind was blowing and he settled his hat on his head and turned up his collar. It was late October and it wasn’t unusual to have northers blow through, some of them with snow.
He parked in front of the sheriff’s office. Jim knew Sheriff Metzger well. He’d had one or two minor run-ins with the law as a teenager, but he’d become a model citizen.
“Sheriff Metzger,” he said as he entered, sticking out his hand.
“Jim, how are you?”
“Fine. I have some questions, though.”
“Well, sure, son. Come on in and have a seat. How about some coffee?”
“Thanks. I’d like that.” Jim settled into the chair beside the sheriff’s desk. He glanced at the only other man in the office, an elderly deputy. “Hi, Dick. How’s it going?”
“Just fine, Jim. Tell your daddy hello for me.”
“Sure.”
The sheriff set down a mug of coffee beside Jim and circled the desk to take a seat. “Now, then, what’s bothering you?”
“It’s about Patience Anderson. She’s an old friend and—”
Sheriff Metzger held up a hand. “I told her I couldn’t help her,” he said.
“Sheriff, I talked to Patience briefly last night. But her mother says she left to go after the boy and I’m—”
“She left? Surely she hasn’t gone up to Kane’s camp! I told her she’d just have to wait. He’ll get tired of a little boy, I said. He won’t want to take care of him.”
“Who is this man?”
“You don’t know? Do you remember Faith, Patience’s older sister? She married a man named Joseph Kane. When Faith died—”
“Faith is dead?” Jim asked, shocked. He hadn’t heard anything about that. He would’ve called Patience if he’d known…
“I thought you said Patience was a friend.”
“She was. But apart from last night, I haven’t talked to her in three years. What happened to Faith?”
“She died in childbirth. That husband of hers didn’t want her to see a doctor. She bled to death. The baby was saved because Patience got there in time to get him to the doctor.”
“So she’s raising her sister’s baby?”
“Yeah,” the sheriff said, rubbing his chin. “I wish I could help her, but by law, Kane has rights to the boy.”
“So he’s living in the mountains? At a camp, not in a house?”
“Right. He’s camped out with his men.”
“His men?” Jim asked.
“He’s got himself a group of followers, ‘soldiers’ he calls them. But so far, they’ve kept to themselves. And we’re short-handed here. Otherwise, I’d go talk to the man. But I wouldn’t go alone, and it’d take us a couple of days to get there.”
“Is he violent?”
“Don’t know. But I don’t like being completely outnumbered. That’s why I told that little lady to give it some time. I can’t believe she went after him. Why, the weather alone could kill her. There’s a storm coming.”
“Can you give me directions? I need to make sure Patience is all right.”
“Well, I’ll give you the information I have.”
An hour later, after visiting Mrs. Anderson briefly to tell her he’d try to check up on Patience, he headed back to his family’s ranch. He had some preparing to do.
Megan, Jim’s mother, was sitting with Red at the big kitchen table, coffee cups in front of them, when he walked in.
“Where you been, boy?” Red immediately asked.
“I wanted to talk to Patience. She was the one who called me yesterday. I found out she may be in some trouble. Where’s Dad?”
“He went with your uncle Pete to deliver some bulls to Cheyenne. They were going to stay overnight and visit with some other customers.”
Jim didn’t need an explanation. His uncle Pete had run his business for a number of years, supplying animals for rodeos. But that meant he couldn’t discuss things
