Free Heaven Is a Long Way Off by Win Blevins

hard by, and miles of wheat-colored grasses in every direction.
    Sam felt heady. In a few hours he would see Esperanza, and Flat Dog, and Julia. Jedediah, Sam knew, was happy. He’d told Rogers, the brigade’s clerk, to hold the brigade in that camp on the Appelaminy until September 20. If the captain didn’t appear by then with supplies and more men, Rogers was to consider him dead, take the remaining men in to the Russian fort at Bodega Bay for supplies, and make his way home however he could.
    They would arrive this afternoon, two days before the deadline.
    And Hannibal? He seemed to like the world every day, however it came. Sam looked at his friend’s face. Sometimes it made him twist with envy, the way his friend seemed to enjoy everything. He had a saying for it. “Life is a whirling devil of trouble, thanks be to God.”
    Only a little while more.
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    R OGERS , A RT B LACK, and Joe Laplant stood up, waved, and came running. “Good to see you, you old coons!”
    Then they looked behind the captain at the other riders, and their faces changed.
    Jedediah saw it. “We have nothing,” he said. He’d promised to come with a pack train of supplies of every kind. Instead he brought ten riders, half of them without rifles, not a single pack animal, and no equipment.
    â€œHellfire,” said Rogers.
    The captain and his clerk looked at each other, speaking without words.
    Art Black, though, was looking sheepishly at Sam.
    Jedediah reached down to shake Black’s hand, and Art didn’t even notice.
    â€œThey’re gone,” he said.
    Sam opened his mouth and nothing came out.
    â€œDisappeared,” Black said.
    Rogers kept his eyes down and kicked at the dirt.
    â€œEsperanza?” Sam squeaked.
    Black nodded. His eyes ached the truth up to Sam.
    â€œF-F-Flat Dog and Julia?”
    â€œGone. Probably kidnapped. No idea where they are.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œAbout two months ago.”
    Gone. Sam almost fell off Paladin.
    Rogers changed the subject. “The rest of the men are out hunting.” He looked at the ten gaunt riders and their mounts. “We have plenty of meat but we’re out of everything else. They’ll be back before dark.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Black said to Sam.
    Art Black was a decent man. Sam had never liked Rogers.
    The two outfits greeted each other, one by one. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year. The men from Salt Lake, intended to be rescuers, were the ones who needed rescuing.
    Whatever they were saying, Sam could see their mouths move, but he couldn’t hear the words. He got off Paladin and led her down to the Appelaminy.
    The mare drank. Sam had the illusion, repeatedly, that he was tumbling head over heels into the river.
    His infant daughter, gone.
    One of his best friends, gone.
    His best friend’s wife, disappeared.
    He sat down by the river for a long time. He rubbed Coy’s head. He listened to the water and watched it turn and swirl. Paladin splashed in the shallows. When he was ready, Sam staked the mare on some grass and walked back to the fire. The hunters were back, and everyone was gathered around and feeding on elk.
    â€œGive me the story,” Sam told Rogers.
    Head down, the clerk began. “The child was colicky all the time,” he said in a tone that suggested it wasn’t his concern. “Señora Julia wanted a médico or a curandera. She had a notion about some herbs or something.” Sam didn’t know whether the tone was contempt for Mexicans or the irritability one married woman can cause in a camp of rough men.
    Rogers looked up from his food at Sam and smiled eerily. “Some Indians led them toward San Jose. They thought they’d come on a rancho, either mission or private, and get some help. Didn’t figure they’d have to go all the way to San Jose.
    â€œIndians come back, said the party stopped at a farmhouse a day’s