Angels Camp

Angels Camp

soppingwetpanties

Set in Gold Rush Country in the 1870's, it's a tale inspired by "Angel," one of my favorite romance stories.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter One

The Gold Shipment

It was a crisp, cool spring morning in Angels Camp, California, a rugged mining town nestled in the Sierra Nevada foothills. The town, founded by Henry Angel, a former soldier in the Mexican-American War, first achieved notoriety when a Mother Lode of gold was found nearby in 1848. The town was later immortalized by Mark Twain, who in 1865 visited the area and chronicled the frog-jumping competition in his story titled "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," an event celebrated annually to this day.

The town wasn't as famous as Sutter Creek or Deadwood, but to those who called it home it was the center of the universe, the place where fortunes could be made overnight. Every swindler, thief and confidence man on the West Coast was drawn to Angels Camp with the promise of easy marks, abundant money and loose women.

The main street was a wide, dusty, pothole filled stretch lined with wooden storefronts, their facades standing tall to impress potential customers. The Golden Spur Saloon stood at the town's center, the heartbeat of the frontier town, and next to it was the sheriff's office and jail. On the other side of the street was a privately run assay office, a place where miners could test their gold samples and receive certificates for their ingots documenting weight and purity.

Cole Harden, illegitimate son of notorious Jesse James gang member Cole Younger, a strapping young man of twenty-five, adjusted the star pinned on his shirt and then checked each chamber of his Colt Peacemaker, before holstering it. He was as sure a shot as his late father and just as handsome, standing a little over six foot, with short, wavy brown hair, square jaw and a pronounced dimple on his chin.

He tilted back his chair against the wall of his office and put his feet up on his desk, tilting his sweat stained cowboy hat over his face, waiting for the noon gold delivery to arrive. The string of wagons had the year's production of the mine, the freshly minted $20 Double Eagles bearing the "s" mark of the U.S. Mint in San Francisco. Cole knew the wagons would be heavily guarded and that he had little to worry about.

Angels Camp's newest sheriff didn't have anything to worry about because the shipment was being managed by Jonah Hayes, the mine's owner and the real law in Angels Camp. Jonah, tall with shiny dark wavy hair, a narrow face with a nose broken more than once and set slightly off true, skin leathered and darkened by years spent under an unforgiving sun, cut a dashing figure in his trademark Confederate officer's light gray waistcoat, trimmed with gold braid and adorned with two vertical rows of polished brass buttons. Beneath the brim of his hat were eyes that were watchful, steady--the eyes of someone who measured each man he met for danger--or use. There was no softness in them, only a cold, practiced calculation sharpened by years of survival.

To Jonah, the War of the South never ended. He ruled with an iron fist, making his investors rich and his coffers overflowing. Jonah had over $1 million in gold in a heavily guarded boxcar. From the Stockton train station to the northeast, the gold would be transported by five separate wagons over fifty miles of rutted country roads. The freshly minted gold currency would serve as the backbone of Angels Camp's economy.

An attractive blonde interrupted Cole's impromptu siesta.

"Cole, coffee and breakfast," she said, shaking his shoulder.

It was Blanche, named after her late mother, who was Cole's younger half-sister. She'd moved out with Cole from Joplin, Missouri when Cole took the job as sheriff in this rough and tumble town, and shortly after assumed the duties of a school teacher in Angel Camp's crude one room schoolhouse. She and Cole lived in a modest house on the outskirts of town, a simple wood frame one story cottage sided with clapboard with weather beaten flecked white paint, and a shallow porch running across the front just broad enough for two chairs and their muddy boots.

Blanche had just turned twenty-two, and inherited her blonde hair and fair skin from her mother. She was dressed modestly in a high-collared Victorian gown made of delicate lace and fine fabric. It was a gift from her mother, tailored to fit snugly, emphasizing her generous figure, broad at the hips, narrow at the waist and full in the bosom that was impossible to disguise under her dress. In Angels Camp, where the ratio of men to women was tilted heavily to male, Blanche was regarded as a prize, single miners staring openly as she passed.

"You spoil me," said Cole, lifting up the red and white checkered cloth napkin off the hamper to reveal fresh baked biscuits and honey from Blanche's beehives. He poured himself a generous mug of coffee and then ripped off a corner of a biscuit, dipping it into the pot of honey.

"Ummm," he murmured as he took his first taste of the biscuit slathered with honey. "Mom's baking has nothing on you," he said as a high compliment.

Blanche smiled. "Just trying to take care of my big brother. So I heard Jonah's bringing his gold back from San Francisco."

"I heard that as well," said Cole. "Good for the local economy."

His face looked troubled.

"What is it?" Blanche asked.

"Nothing much. There was a fight last night at the bar. Jonah's ranch foreman - a guy named Red McCaffrey, got into a scuffle with a local rancher over a boundary dispute. Harsh words were exchanged, then bullets. I'm afraid the rancher took the worst of it. Doubt he'll be walking anytime soon. Looks like Red is going to be spending time with me in the cell over there," he said, pointing.

"Jonah's not going to like that," said Blanche, stating the obvious.

"Law's the law," said Cole.

"And then there's Jonah," said Blanche.

"I'm not afraid of him."

"You should be."

"What would you have me do, Blanche? Sit here on my hands while Jonah's crew runs roughshod over this town? They can't shoot a local rancher with no consequences. Otherwise I should just turn in my badge and let everything in Angels Camp be decided by the end of the barrel of a gun."

"I'm just saying be careful."

"You know I will."

* * *

Cole pushed aside the hamper with his breakfast inside and cleared the top of his desk, pulling out a leather bound journal. He recorded the activities in the town on its pages, and used it to brief the local judge who travelled a circuit from Yuba City to Stockton. He was busy chronicling the shooting the previous night when he heard hoofbeats and then a rider dismounting on the wooden boardwalk outside his office. A breathless rider burst through the door.

"We've been robbed. The last wagon was taken... $200,000 in gold. One of our men was shot and killed. There were four, maybe five gunmen. One was killed on the spot and the others fled into the foothills. Happened right outside the train station. Mr. Hayes is waiting for you there."

Cole grabbed his holster and gun and provisions for two days and followed the man out of his office. They rode out together post haste to the train station, taking one of the several trails to Stockton, alert for the robbers. After riding most of the day, they arrived at the station to see pure carnage. There was a shootout there, with the heavily armed thieves ambushing Jonah's men as they were loading their cargo. While the men were pinned, the robbers loaded one wagon and got away. One man covered their getaway and shot dead one of Jonah's men at the station.

Jonah Hayes, face reddened from the sun and anger, was standing over the bloodied body of his man. As Cole approached, the mine owner used his boot to turn over the body so they could see his face. There was a shotgun blast to his chest, and the result wasn't pretty.

"Good man here," said Jonah. "I saw four men get away. One man told me he saw them going east," pointing in that direction. "What are you going to do about it, sheriff?"

Cole scratched his chin, looking to the east and thinking about how he'd track down the robbers.

"I need four men to ride with me. Need provisions for a week. They've got a two hour head start so we need to leave right away. We can get in a solid three or four hours of riding before it gets dark."

"Figured you'd say that," said Jonah. "Why don't you take my foreman Red McCaffrey? He'll pick three men and arrange for provisions to follow you. I'll take two men and go south in case they've veered off in that direction."

Elias "Red" McCaffrey was known as Red for his auburn hair and weathered, sunburned skin. He was a grizzled no-nonsense veteran of Jonah Hayes's mining operation and Jonah's "enforcer" for tasks outside of the law. He started with Jonah at age fifteen, and now in his early 40's, bore the deep creases on his face and scars on his arms and chest from his chosen profession.

Cole hesitated. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest Red, so you're going to have to pick someone else."

"For what?" Jonah asked, and not politely.

"He shot someone last night. Ben Yates, a local rancher."

"Red was with me last night. You must be mistaken," said Jonah.

"With all due respect sir, I know what Red looks like. He's kind of hard to miss. He was at the Golden Spur, not with you."

Jonah glared at Cole, with fire in his eyes.

"Look here sheriff. Are you calling me a liar?"

"Let's just say we have a disagreement about the facts."

"Coming from the mouth of the son of a bank robber."

Cole tried not to look astonished. He'd never breathed a word about his background to anyone other than Blanche.

"Oh, you didn't think I knew, did you? I know everything about you. Your father's Cole Younger, part of Jesse James's gang. He died after a bank robbery, but not before knocking up your mother. He was a piece of shit and so are you. Now your sister..."

"You leave my sister out of it."

"Why should I, Cole? She's the only thing of value to you... other than your own life."

"She has nothing to do with what's between me and you."

Jonah sneered at Cole. "Why Cole, she has everything to do with the two of us. You get me those bandits and maybe I won't touch her pretty little face. And hands off Red. I'll deal with him."

Cole wanted desperately to wipe the smug smile off Jonah's face but resisted. The mine owner held all the cards, including his sister.

* * *

The posse left the train station with three hours of sunshine ahead of them. Cole, Red and three riders followed wagon wheel tracks leading east. Though the robbers got a head start, riders on horses made twice the territory as a horse drawn wagon. Cole figured he'd be on them before sunset if he was lucky.

After two hours of hard riding they arrived at a clearing surrounded by ponderosa pines and twisted junipers. The wagon was there abandoned, with a shattered rear axle, and the gold in it gone. There were five separate sets of hoofprints, all leading in different directions. Red hopped off his horse and put his finger into the indented ground.

"Looks like they split up the loot in saddlebags and went separate directions. I can tell from the depth of the hoofprints that each of them was carrying a fair amount of gold."

"We split up," Cole said. "Each of us will follow a set of hoofprints. We meet back here after we've tracked them down."

"Shoot to kill," said Red.

"You do what's necessary to capture them. I'd prefer alive to dead," said Cole.

Cole rode alone for another hour, and in the waning daylight found a small clearing to lay down his bedroll and sleep until morning. The tracks were easy to follow given the weight of the horse, the rider, and the gold. He was confident he'd find the person in the morning.

Chapter Two

The Lady

The trail led to a box canyon with a slow flowing stream meandering through it. Cole saw a horse drinking in it though there was no sign of the rider. The cat tails growing in the water obscured his view of the stream so he went towards it, hearing splashing noises in a natural eddy. He drew his gun as he approached the stand of cat tails, waist deep in virtually still, clear waters.

He peered around the foliage to see the well-formed back of a young woman in the nude, bathing.

"Ohh!" the woman gasped as she turned at the waist and saw Cole. She instinctively raised her arms to hide her breasts, but not before Cole got a glimpse of her soft, rounded globes. Her hair was long, dark and wavy, though now dripping wet it was close to straight. She was a vision of loveliness Cole had not expected to see.

"I'm just finishing up so you turn around now," the woman said in a scolding tone.

Cole turned the other way, but could see the woman out of the corner of his eye. He didn't trust her, but he also wanted to see her naked form, the gentle curves of a young woman. His heart stirred as he watched her wade out of the river and drop her dress over her head, arms raised high.

He wasn't told there was a woman in the gang, but it was possible she acted as a lookout, far away from the train station. But this woman looked too refined to be running with a scurvy gang that had the temerity to rob Jonah Hayes. Also, she was too casual upon his approach and appeared to be unarmed.

"What's your business here?" he asked her.

She'd finished dressing and was brushing her hair.

"You know after being on the trail there's nothing better than a bath to get yourself clean," she said, ignoring Cole's question.

"What's a nice lady like you doing on this trail? There was a robbery at the train station and this is one of the ways out."

The woman finished brushing her hair. She took a handheld mirror out of her saddlebag and looked at herself, adjusting a hair that was out of place.

"There," she said. "Presentable at last."

"And who sir are you?" she asked Cole before he could get his question out again.

"Cole Harden ma'am. Angels Camp sheriff." He pointed to his badge, as if that was necessary.

"Adelina Winslow. My friends call me Addie. I'm passing through from Joplin, Missouri to San Francisco. I may have lost my way."

Cole's eyes lit up. "I'm from Joplin. My mother was Eliza Harden."

"What a coincidence," the woman remarked. "Piano teacher, was she?"

"That's right," said Cole, surprised she knew that detail. "If you know my mother then you know my father, Frank."

"Oh... yes... I believe I do. A handsome man, like you."

"So you were about to tell me why you're on this trail..."

"Well, as I said," the woman continued, "I was on the train that you're making the fuss about. I took my horse when I heard gunfire and shouting and went as far away from the station as quickly as I could."

"Where are you headed?" he asked her.

"To Holt. Want to catch a stage there for San Francisco."

"You're going the wrong direction."

"Am I?" the woman exclaimed, surprised.

"Yes ma'am," Cole said, pointing southwest. "It's that way."

"Well then, I best be on my way if I'm going to get there before it gets dark," she said, walking towards her horse.

"It's best you go with me. I'm headed to Angels Camp."

"Didn't you say you were chasing bank robbers?"

"I can't leave you on the trail alone. And besides, you don't seem to have a clue where you're going."

"I do now," she said. "And I can manage for myself, but thank you for the offer."

"I insist," Cole said sternly.

Addie studied the lawman's face and saw he was dead serious.

"All right," she said. "If it'll make you feel better."

"We best be moving then ma'am. It'll be dark soon and we're going to have to camp someplace. Did you bring any gear?"

"Oh you mean to sleep in? Why no. All I have are clothes."

Cole sighed. It would be a long, cold night.

"I'll give you my bedroll. Best I can do."

In short order it was twilight, with only an hour at best of light before it became too dangerous to ride on the rocky trail. They were at a thousand feet of elevation and the nighttime wind was gusting and cold. Cole found a place to make camp in a protected alcove and started a fire. He was standing next to the fire holding his hands over it to warm them. Addie came alongside him and held her hands out next to his.

"So who are you looking for?" Addie asked.

"Maybe five men."

"Do you know who they are?"

"Miss Adelina, you now know as much as I do."

"Please, call me Addie. Are they dangerous?"

"Very," Cole said. "I was told they killed at least one person at the train station. That's why I'm taking you back to Angels Camp. This trail is no place for a lady to be wandering about on her own."

Addie turned to look at him. The flickering light from the fire made her baby blue eyes sparkle.

"I'm flattered, Mr. Harden. That's gallant of you."

"You should call me Cole. And it's just common sense Addie. You being a pretty woman and unarmed."

Addie hooked her arm around his and drew him closer.

"Is that what I am? Common sense?"

Cole realized his mistake. "Of course not. I'm just saying that you're too vulnerable out here."

"So you think I'm pretty?"

"Yes ma'am."

Cole rarely got flustered but he was. "Wait here," he said.

He had to get away. He was getting hot, and it wasn't just from the fire he'd built. He went back to his horse to retrieve food and his bedroll and a blanket and went through her saddlebags to see if there was anything worth eating or using that night. He came back to the campfire with his arms full. He put it all down.

"So here's your bedroll," Cole said, handing it to her.

"What are you going to sleep on?" Addie asked.

"I've got a blanket. I'll be fine."

"You brought food?" Addie asked expectantly.

"Two days' worth, so we're not going to go hungry."

He set out a small cast iron pot and put in it beans and salt pork.

"It's going to take about an hour to cook. You can try to nap and I'll wake you up when it's done or we can talk."

"I'm not sleepy," Addie said, "so let's talk."

"So what are you doing here?" Cole asked.

Addie thought for a moment before answering. "I needed a change in my life so I decided to visit my brother in San Francisco. Maybe find a job there. There's no work for women back home."

"What do you do?"

"I give voice lessons."

"You mean like singing?"

Cole didn't know that was an occupation.

"Yes, of course. I was trained in New York. I've been told there's a lot of wealthy people in San Francisco and wealthy people can afford to take voice lessons."

The bean mixture was starting to bubble. Cole leaned over to stir it.

"Maybe you can sing something for me," he said while stirring.

"Maybe I will," said Addie. "My turn, how did you end up in Angels Camp?"

"Needed a job. Got a flyer that they were looking for law enforcement. As you said, there are a lot of wealthy people out here and the wealthy people who can afford voice lessons also attract the scum of the earth."

"You handy with a gun?"

"Did you want to try me?" Cole asked in jest.

Addie held up her hands. "No, no. It's just that you have a dangerous job. You know, like guarding pretty women."

"I'll admit you're easy on the eyes Addie but I'd do it for anyone who was on this trail."

"So no special treatment?"

"No ma'am."