The Scars of a Pure Heart

by Grace Clemens

  The young couple was directed to a rambling house on the edge of town. A Mrs. Burroughs answered the door and, yes, she had a very nice room they could rent for the night. After learning that they were newlyweds, she crowed loudly and instructed them to follow her upstairs, chattering all the way.

  “How lovely that you are able to take a wedding trip! When I married Arthur, we only dreamed of such things. He was a farmer, though, and couldn’t be away from the cows for so long. In fact, I was up before dawn with him the morning after our wedding to help with the milking!” She guffawed before returning to her story, using the banister to pull herself up the stairs. “It wasn’t until after he passed that I sold the farm and bought this house. There aren’t many ways a widowed woman can make a living, but having a boardinghouse is one of them. It’s fine with me, of course, I so enjoy meeting new people and learning about their lives. Talking with strangers gives one such a broader view of the world, don’t you think?”

  “Now, here is your room. Supper and breakfast are included in the charge. Let me know if you need more towels or blankets or anything at all. There’s only one gentleman down the hall and he’s quiet as a church mouse, so don’t worry about being disturbed.” The short, round woman beamed between the two of them before turning and making her way back downstairs.

  Alone, and finally in the quiet again, Blake looked around the room. It was clean and attractive with a wide window which let in the afternoon sun. But there was only one double bed and he found he hardly knew where to look.

  Macie stepped further inside and put down the carpetbag she’d brought for the night. Her hands went to her hips as she assessed the furnishings.

  “I’ll be happy to sleep on the settee,” she informed him. “It would be too small for you, but I think I would fit just fine.”

  “No, no,” Blake argued automatically. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Macie shook her head firmly. “Don’t be silly. There’s no sense in paying for a bed and then not using it. Besides, you can hardly bring up your bedroll without drawing unwanted attention. I have a feeling that Mrs. Burroughs doesn’t miss a thing and enjoys telling her neighbors all.”

  Blake grunted his agreement and lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Would it be right to let Macie take the settee? She’d have to curl up on it, but it didn’t look too uncomfortable otherwise. Still, they were only staying here so that she could have one less night to sleep out on the trail. Didn’t it defeat the point if she didn’t use the bed?

  But Macie was determined. All his attempts at chivalry were neatly rebuffed. Ruefully, Blake wondered if his wife hadn’t inherited more of her mother’s stubbornness than she was willing to admit.

  And so, they spent the night quite pleasantly. Mrs. Burroughs provided a very tasty, hearty meal. Blake grew tired of her incessant chatter, but figured that it was worth putting up with her droning for a second slice of her delicious apple pie.

  As their hostess washed the dishes, they sat in the parlor and had a chance to talk briefly with Mr. Lane, the other boarder, who hadn’t uttered a word during supper. He was a quiet man, they found, who was content to let his landlady talk all she liked. With Mrs. Burroughs in the kitchen, Mr. Lane carried on a brief conversation with them, which Blake found enormously refreshing.

  Finally, Blake and Macie said their good nights and climbed the stairs. In their room, he grabbed the ewer then took his time going down to the yard to fill it with water for the morning. By the time he returned, Macie had prepared for bed, made up the settee with pillows and blanket, and was tucked in for the night.

  “Good night,” he said stiffly.

  “Sweet dreams,” Macie replied.

  Blake blew out the candle before undressing himself and climbing between the sheets. It was strangely intimate to hear the sounds Macie made as she fell asleep, just as it was a little uncomfortable to have his own sounds trumpeted so loudly. Every rustle of the blanket, every sigh, every shifting, seemed magnified in the small room. Blake was relieved when Macie’s breathing slowed as she fell asleep. Only then did he let himself relax and drift off himself, dreaming of the adventure to come.

  Chapter 16

  Blake was awake and raring to go before the sun was up the next morning. He jumped out of bed, washed, and dressed without giving paying much mind to what he was doing. Granddad’s letter was all he could think about. Blake could hardly believe that today he would be able to finally start the search for the sheep cave.

  Unfortunately, his wife was still sleeping deeply by the time he was ready to go. Blake stood over her, frowning, and tried to decide whether or not it would be inexcusable to wake her. Good sense won out in the end. There was really no reason to be up and on the trail so early, he concluded with a sigh.

  So, Blake clattered downstairs to wait impatiently for the clock to reach a decent hour for waking Macie. To Blake’s delight, he found a book on the shelf which held information about the region. He flipped to the index and searched for Red Hills Canyon. There was a brief mention of it. Blake read it twice, trying to commit to memory all the pertinent facts. The canyon ran for nearly thirty miles. It had three points of easy access to the river bed below. The double arches were well known and closest to the middle point of access. At this time of year, the river was nearly dry.

  By the time Macie emerged, dressed and carpet bag in hand, Blake had a vague plan for the day. They ate a quick breakfast and escaped Mrs. Burroughs’ constant conversation as soon as they could extricate themselves politely. She gave them permission to leave the wagon in her driveway when they rode out. Since Blake figured they wouldn’t need more than the first part of the day to locate the cave, it made sense to leave it behind. They could easily return, hitch up the horses, and head off to the next part of the hunt.

  It was Macie’s turn to be slow to wake up. She plodded along, eyes half closed, and Blake couldn’t help but think that she looked awfully cute like that. To keep himself from such warm thoughts, he began to recite out loud what he’d read in the book. Before long, they were out of town and Blake had run out of facts to list.

  The silence stretched again. Blake was very glad that the ride to the canyon wouldn’t take much longer. Somehow, today, he couldn’t make himself easy with Macie. Talking didn’t feel right nor did riding along quietly. The silence was full of something a bit itchy and Blake didn’t know how to fix it.

  “I think I see the canyon,” Macie finally declared.

  Sure enough, off in the distance, a black line split the earth. As they drew nearer, the line widened and dove deep into the ground. When they reached the canyon’s edge, they dismounted and peered down to the riverbed below.

  “How far down is it?” inquired Macie.

  Blake scratched at his forehead with his thumb. Well, now, there was one fact he hadn’t thought to memorize. “I’d guess it’s five hundred feet down; maybe a bit more than that.”

  “You said there were a few ways to climb down. Where is the closest one?”

  He checked the position of the sun before orienting himself to the canyon. Frowning as he concentrated, Blake said, “The double arches are south of here about nine miles. We have two options for getting down. About a half mile back that way up the canyon, there’s a trail leading down. The book said it could be managed by horses. Our other option is to head south to a steeper trail the horses can’t take and go ahead on foot.”

  Macie cocked her head and looked back and forth over the canyon. “The riverbed looks smooth enough. I think the horses could handle it. If we’re going nine miles, we’ll have to ride to get there and back before dark. I vote that we go north to the trail.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Blake agreed. “All right, let’s mount up.”

  They rode north and found the trail down into the canyon without any trouble. Blake felt his spirits rise as they started downward. Here it was! The adventure he’d been dreaming of! He’d found the canyon and was
headed towards the next landmark. Excitement bubbled up in Blake and he threw a boyish smile around at the canyon walls, which were rising up around him as they descended.

  Two hours later, though, Blake’s enthusiasm had waned significantly. It was slow going. The horses had to pick their way carefully over the rocky floor of the canyon. The sun was blazing down on them. Blake’s Stetson shaded his face but was an oven on top of his head. And there was no breeze down here, no relief from the heat.

  One glance at Macie and Blake knew she was equally uncomfortable. Her face was red and she repeatedly wiped at her brown to keep the sweat out of her eyes. In fact, Blake was coming to realize that adventuring wasn’t constant excitement as he’d imagined when he was a boy.

  “What’s that ahead?” Macie’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Blake craned his neck. “Where?”

  Beside him, his wife lifted a hand and pointed, “Right around that curve there’s a tall… something. Could it be the double arches?”

  His heart gave a hopeful lurch and he sat up a little straighter. The horses plodded onward and slowly the rock formation came into view. Sure enough, a hundred feet in the air towered two distinct arches made of layer upon layer of various kinds of rock.

  Blake drew his horse to a stop and climbed down. Following his lead, Macie was soon standing beside him, goggling at the formation.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” she breathed almost reverently. “It’s beautiful!”

  Grinning broadly, Blake crossed his arms and enjoyed the view for himself. Macie’s awe was quite satisfying. It seemed to be a confirmation that what Granddad had done was indeed worthwhile. Blake wished his entire family could be standing here, dazzled by the beauty Granddad had discovered for himself. Surely then they would have to admit that his wandering was worthwhile.

  “Is the sheep cave near here or further on?” Macie asked.

  Blake racked his memory. “Um, Granddad didn’t say. The letter said to find the arches and then the cave. If I had to guess, I’d say that the cave is nearby.”

  “Shall we start looking? We’ve got a long ride back and I don’t want to have to do it in the dark.”

  It was a logical argument, though not one that was strictly in the spirit of adventuring. Reluctantly, Blake followed his wife off towards the base of the towering arches. They split up without speaking, each examining a separate base.

  ***

  Macie’s eyes searched the rock, praying that they’d find the cave soon. While the break from riding did feel good on her sore muscles, Macie was hot and wished she was out of this canyon. The double arches were beautiful, but did they justify the discomfort? The jury was still out on that one, Macie decided.

  A cry drew her eyes to her husband who stood next to a dense clump of mesquite bushes.

  “There’s a cave back here!” Blake cried excitedly.

  “Oh, thank you, Lord,” Macie whispered before heading across the canyon.

  Blake paused long enough to gather a few dried mesquite branches, wrap a rag around them, and create a torch of sorts. They’d left their lanterns back with the wagon and Macie hoped that her husband didn’t accidentally light his shirt on fire with this makeshift torch.

  “Ready?” he asked with a boyish grin.

  Macie forced a smile and then followed Blake into the cave, praying all the while that no varmints called this place home.

  The entrance was narrow but quite tall. The two couldn’t walk side by side and Macie was all too glad to take the rear. As daylight abandoned them to the dark interior, Macie hurried to stay close to Blake and his torch. Even though there had been no place to take a wrong turn yet, she found the cool, dark walls overbearing and a bit frightening.

  After several minutes, the cave widened and the ceiling dropped. Macie stayed close behind Blake as he began to examine every inch of the room. The light flickered, making it too difficult for her to see anything, so Macie concentrated on not tripping over any variations in the floor. There was a dark opening at the back which seemed to emit a sulfurous odor, hinting at a well or underground spring. Macie had to keep her mind from conjuring all sorts of creatures watching them from that dark spot.

  “Here it is!” Blake yelled, his voice echoing.

  “What did you find?” Macie tried to keep the relief from alerting him to her unease.

  Blake pointed to a mark scratched into the rock. “Do you see this?” he held the torch close to it.

  “I see it, but what is it?” she asked, impatient to be on their way back to the sunlight.

  “It’s the sign of the Yellow Rose Ranch: a B with an arrow through the middle.” Blake traced it with his finger. “Granddad must have carved this here! Hold the torch while I dig.”

  The firebrand was thrust into Macie’s hands and she almost fumbled it before taking control and holding it helpfully so the torch lit the ground where Blake worked. He already had his pocket knife in hand and was trying to pry the rocks up below the brand on the wall.

  Macie bit her lip, her heart thumping, though with nerves and not with anticipation of finding the next clue. When her husband gave an excited shout and pulled out a small carved wooden box, she sighed with relief.

  “Let’s open it back out in the light,” she directed before turning quickly back to the tunnel leading to the canyon. As she was the one holding the torch, Blake had no choice to follow.

  Once her searching eyes found the first hint of daylight, Macie’s heart began to slow its rapid pace. She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t enjoying this adventuring very much at all. The dreams she’d secretly nursed of traipsing along with Blake when he explored were shattering with each new leg of this long, hot, dark, dull, frightening day. If anything, Macie feared she was beginning to hope that she’d never have to adventure ever again.

  They found a flat boulder and perched on the edge. While Blake eagerly opened the box, Macie sighed tiredly. At this moment, she cared far more that she was finally able to rest than what the next clue might have to say.

  “It’s my grandmother’s wedding ring,” Blake said solemnly.

  Macie’s eyes swung to the box’s contents, her interest returning to the task at hand. Her husband lifted the silver circle with something akin to awe. It was a simple ring, etched with a looping pattern which was worn down in places. She glanced at Blake whose eyes were moist, though he swiped at them gruffly. Apparently, this ring meant a great deal to him.

  “Would you like me to read the letter?” she offered.

  Blake nodded, looking off down the canyon while he tried to gain control of his emotions.

  Macie opened the yellowed envelope and opened the paper inside. She read, “’Dear Blake, Congratulations on finding this first treasure! I hope you and your wife are enjoying the journey. I don’t know whether or not you bought your wife a wedding ring, but I’d be honored if she would wear this one that belonged to your grandmother, my wonderful wife. May your marriage be as glorious as ours.

  “’As for the next stop on your treasure hunt, go to the Sand Hills mining camp, about a day’s ride west of Mills Ridge. Follow the tracks to the post office. You’ll find the next clue in the top row of mailboxes. Good luck and happy hunting! Love, Ewell Bradfield.’”

  Silence fell around them and Macie tried to look everywhere but at the ring still in Blake’s hand. She was enormously touched by his grandfather’s gift, yet it wasn’t hers to take. It was Blake’s to give and she wasn’t sure that he was ready for that sort of thing.

  “We’d better get back on the trail,” she said. Blake’s reaction to his grandfather’s ring and letter were making Macie feel generous. Perhaps he just needed some time to figure out what to do with the ring.

  And, sure enough, Blake slipped it into the hip pocket of his pants before picking up the box and letter. “Good idea. Let’s head back.”

  Feeling a tad disappointed, Macie followed her husband back to their horses.