The Scars of a Pure Heart

by Grace Clemens

Luckily for him, Blake didn’t do anything more than raise an eyebrow at her sticks. Macie lifted her chin and roundly ignored him. He shouldered the rucksack, took the stick she offered without comment, and led the way down to the creek bed.

  Macie’s eyes swept back and forth as they walked. From the waterline on the rocks, this creek never got much higher than her ankles, even at its deepest point. Now, in July, it was bone dry. Truth be told, it wouldn’t be much of a place for any kind of snakes. It was too dry most of the year for the kind that liked water and too wet the rest of the time for the sort that didn’t. By the end of the first hour with no sign of movement of any kind, Macie finally was able to put down her guard.

  “Maybe this creek was named because it winds so much,” Blake speculated. “It’s curvy, like a snake.”

  Macie considered that. “Well, if that’s the reason, whoever named it wasn’t very bright.”

  Her husband chuckled and held up the stick in his hand. “Can I get rid of this thing then?”

  She opened her mouth to speak just as her foot made contact with something that crackled dryly. Macie looked down and her eyes grew wide. Slowly, she leaned down and lifted a long snake skin.

  Blake’s joviality evaporated and he immediately began to look around him with new eyes.

  Macie felt her stomach clench as she identified the diamond pattern on the skin. Despite everything she knew about their habits, this was a rattlesnake skin. It was almost as long as her arm, too, which only served to push her closer to panicking.

  “Let’s keep moving. I don’t know why that fellow left this behind, but let’s get away from here,” Blake said, voice steely.

  If she hadn’t been so frightened, Macie would have taken great satisfaction from watching him grip his snake stick firmly as they headed off down the creek bed. As it was, though, her own hand gripped her stick so hard her knuckles were white.

  Not ten minutes later, the creek bed finally split. Sure enough, as promised, a huge oak tree blossomed from the little island formed by the two sides of the creek. This granddaddy tree had such deep roots that it was green and thriving, fed from some underground reservoir even though the surface around it was bone dry.

  Blake circled the tree with Macie not far behind. She wanted to get the final box and get away from the creek. They shouldn’t have come down here, she told herself irritably. It would have made more sense to walk up along the top of the ridge and only climb to the bed below when they neared the tree. It wasn’t strictly the best argument, but it was one Macie found herself clinging to.

  “There’s the Yellow Rose brand again,” Blake told her quietly. “The box should be close.”

  Macie saw a hole near the roots with that same B halved by an arrow carved above it. She nodded, heart hammering. But when her husband reached a hand towards the hole, she hollered.

  “Stop!”

  Blake froze, turning alarmed eyes to his wife.

  “Don’t stick your hand in there! Anything could be down there,” she scolded him.

  To his credit, Blake didn’t argue. Into the hole went the stick. It made contact with the box, sending back a muffled thudding sound. Blake used the stick to slowly pry it up. Once it appeared over the top of the hole, his hand darted in and plucked out the box, which was wrapped in oiled cloth to protect it from the elements.

  Macie’s relieved sigh was preemptive. No sooner was the box unwrapped than a dull rattling sound jarred the young couple. To her horror, Macie watched as snakes began to emerge from the hole where the box had just been.

  “Get back!” Blake hissed.

  His arm shot out and pushed her backwards. Then he grabbed for the box and stumbled back himself. More than a dozen of the brown, writhing creatures had come out of their nest.

  “God help us,” Macie prayed, finding it difficult to catch her breath.

  The snakes coiled, rattles warning the couple that they were being watched closely.

  “We’re going to have to make a run for it,” Blake whispered. “Do you see that embankment over there?”

  Eyes glued to the snakes, Macie couldn’t turn her head to look where her husband pointed.

  “Macie!” her husband called, trying to jolt her back to reality. “Look over there.”

  She tore her eyes away from the danger. Yes, there was a part of the embankment that had a gentler slope. Climbing it shouldn’t be too difficult. But could her limbs move? Could she actually turn her back on the hissing horrors that were baring their fangs at her?

  “On my count,” Blake said. “One, two, three, go!”

  Later, Macie decided that it must have been divine intervention that swung her into action. She never could have moved so fast of her own accord. In fact, she was running towards the bank before she even realized it, Blake thundering behind her. He scaled the hill quickly and turned, offering a hand to pull her to safety.

  Once she toppled over the side and fell in a heap, Macie allowed her emotions to take over. Tears poured down her cheeks. She shuddered and sobbed. Blake had landed beneath her and gathered her into his arms. She was shaking, struggling to string together coherent thoughts.

  “I lost my stick,” she wailed finally.

  Blake’s chest began to shake at this. It took a moment before Macie figured out that her husband was laughing. She sat up, tears still in her eyes, balled up her hand, and hit him on the arm.

  “Ow,” he cried merrily. “What was that for?”

  “You’re laughing at me,” she sniffled.

  “I’m sorry.” But he didn’t look repentant at all. “It’s just, you saved me from getting bitten, we ran from a dozen snakes, and you’re worried about your stick.”

  Macie tugged her handkerchief from her pocket and mopped up her face. Then, gathering the shreds of her dignity, she sat up straight and said, “You’re not willing to admit that the sticks were a good idea.”

  Blake burst out into hysterical laughter and lay back on the grass, clutching his sides.

  Slowly, the fear receded and a wry grin settled on Macie’s face. She even managed a chuckle of her own, though she found her husband’s ceaseless giggling far funnier than anything else.

  Eventually, they remembered the box. Blake opened it. There was no extra gift inside this time. However, the inevitable envelope seemed thicker than the others had. With fumbling fingers, so aware that the hunt was coming to an end, Blake pulled out the papers inside.

  Dear Blake,

  You’ve done it! Congratulations. I hope this hunt was rewarding in many ways. If your wife hasn’t left you yet, I hope she enjoyed the adventure, too.

  A treasure hunt isn’t a treasure hunt if there isn’t some reward at its end. So, here is a treasure for you. I’m leaving you a piece of land. It isn’t worth a fortune, but it should turn a good profit if you choose to sell it. Use the money however you wish. It should fund whatever ambition you and your wife might have.

  However, this hunt isn’t quite over and this isn’t the big prize I hope to give you. Iver Kennedy has the next set of instructions. Good luck!

  Your Loving Grandfather,

  Ewell Bradfield

  Chapter 19

  Somehow, the day’s adventures had knitted Blake and Macie together closer than ever before. They walked back to the wagon then began the long ride home. As they rode along, they both imagined what might be done with Ewell’s gift. Macie’s mind ran to buying a bit of farmland, building a house, and setting down roots.

  Next to her, Blake dreamed of taking the money and investing in some wild venture. Perhaps he’d go back east and purchase a wagon load of luxury goods then return to Texas and set up shop. Traveling back and forth as a merchant could satisfy the adventurous itch he felt, Blake reasoned. But in the next minute, he pictured himself mining for silver or panning for gold.

  They stopped for the night again. Though neither admitted it, they were each glad for one more night under the stars together. The temperature dipped once the sun went down and Mac
ie was glad when Blake suggested they share the wagon bed. He’d slept on the ground the previous night. Between the cold and the memory of the rattlesnakes, Macie was all too happy to share the wagon bed.

  They set up two separate bedrolls in the wagon bed, though there wasn’t enough room to put much space between them. And it was warmer to be so close. Macie fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the day’s rising and plunging emotions.

  Blake watched the stars for a long time, refusing to think about the woman lying next to him. Again and again, though, he forced his mind away from Macie’s warm presence beside him to the dream of wandering the world alone.

  Too soon, the next morning dawned. The pair left the warmth of their blankets only after the sun was up and heating the world once again. They ate a quiet breakfast, subdued by their night in close proximity.

  Macie sat quietly, her tin coffee mug clutched in her cold hands. This adventure hadn’t all been to her liking. The cave had been frightening, the long ride along the canyon hot and boring, the abandoned mine eerie, and the snakes had been frankly terrifying. But this quiet sitting around the fire was wonderful. Being the only two people in the world allowed her to feel closer to her husband than ever before. There was something simple and calming about being at one with nature. Macie’s very soul seemed to sigh with contentment.

  She saw now, too, that something came alive in Blake when he was adventuring. In the days leading up to this journey, nothing at the ranch had made him so excited. He’d plodded off in the morning and returned weary back home. Out here, though, he was raring to go as soon as he woke up. He was weary at the end of the day out here, too, Macie reflected, but it was different. There was a satisfaction in him after a day of exploring that was missing on the ranch.

  Ewell Bradfield was a clever man, she decided. The old chap had known his grandson well. He’d given Blake the excuse he needed to be allowed time away from the ranch. Clearly, he’d had some sort of plan in demanding that Blake take a wife and then bring her with him on his journey.

  The whole thing made Macie wonder if there might not be more to this so-called treasure hunt than first met the eye. It was, after all, absurd that Blake should have to marry before he was allowed to wander around for a few days hunting for these small treasures.

  What had Ewell been trying to accomplish? He’d known Blake well enough to understand that the younger man would commit himself to a woman in order to achieve his dream. Had he suspected his grandson would go so far as to take out an advertisement for a wife? Or had he supposed Belle Nelson would be the one Blake would wed? The idea of that curvaceous, raven-haired vixen married to Blake made Macie’s stomach churn.

  She’d only had one short run in with Belle, but that was enough to know that Blake could never be happily married to her. Belle was too manipulative and controlling to allow any husband of hers out of her sight for long. And Blake needed the opportunity to take off on his own. Macie could see that now, no matter how much it complicated matters.

  Macie frowned down at her cup. Now that she understood this vital clue to her husband’s happiness, what was she going to do about it? Would she stand in his way? Buying land and building a small home of their own would tie him down and clip his wings. What if he never again got the chance to go exploring because of her?

  But what was the alternative? Macie didn’t want to have to tag along with him. How would she do that if they had children? She began to picture the possibility of living in the little cabin on the ranch with a baby on each hip and Blake taking off for months at a time. The idea didn’t please her any more than the idea of following after him did.

  They packed the wagon and began the long drive home. Macie was unsettled and very unhappy. The magic that had sprung up around their cozy campfire had dissipated in the reality of day and the young woman didn’t know how to conjure it once again.

  The only thing that kept her from sinking into despair was the idea that maybe, just maybe, a good talk with her mother-in-law would clarify things. Perhaps if Macie could understand more about why Ewell left the ranch, she might be able to convince Blake to find some happy medium between being tied to the ranch and abandoning it all together.

  ***

  Blake wasn’t certain why he was feeling blue as they drew ever closer to the ranch. He tried to convince himself that it was due to the fact that his treasure hunt had concluded. There was nothing to look forward to but hard ranching work. Yet, a small part knew that the woman sitting next to him was a big part of his unease. The closer they got to the ranch, the larger the decision Blake had to make about his marriage loomed.

  It was something of a relief to finally turn the wagon down the long drive to the ranch. All this time alone with his thoughts was making him morose, Blake decided.

  Slowly, he began to realize that something was wrong. His nose was the first to alert him of trouble. A smell of smoke hung in the air. Blake’s heart rate quickened. Had there been a fire? Such things simply happened on such a large piece of land. Lightning strikes could spark a blaze. Though they were to be expected, fires could also be deadly and required quick handling to prevent disaster.

  Guilt zinged through him. If only he’d been home to help! They had more than a dozen men and one more pair of hands might not have made much of a difference. But Blake couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have been here.

  “Do you smell smoke?” Macie asked, her own nose sniffing the air.

  Blake didn’t answer. He drew the wagon to a stop outside the stables and jumped down. From inside the barn, Troy strolled out looking tired, one hand bandaged.

  “What happened?” Blake demanded immediately.

  Troy put his hands on his hips, looked down at his boots, and shook his head wearily.

  Before he could answer, Len strode from behind his son, looking grim.

  “Where was the fire?” Blake asked again.

  “The north pasture,” Len replied heavily.

  “Was the herd nearby?” his middle son pressed.

  Len rubbed the back of his neck and nodded.

  Blake groaned. “Did we lose many?”

  “Two cows and their calves got trapped,” Troy answered. “We’ve been digging a fire line for a day and a half. You should have been here, Blake.”

  Len put out a hand to try and silence his eldest son. “That’s enough, Troy.”

  “No, it’s not.” Troy’s face was screwed up in exhausted fury. “You weren’t here when we needed you, Blake. You were off gallivanting. It’s just like Pa always said: Granddad was never here when Pa needed him. Either you’re a part of this family and you pull your weight around here or you can get out and go waste your time out there.”

  Old wounds flared as did Blake’s temper. Heatedly, he retorted, “I didn’t cause this fire! I couldn’t have known it was going to happen. I left with Pa’s permission. Even if I’d been here, I couldn’t have stopped the fire any faster.”

  Len stepped between his sons. “Enough. Troy, go home and get some rest. See Clora and Troy Junior.”

  With one last defiant glare, Troy turned on his heel and stalked off.

  Blake breathed heavily, anger still coursing through him.

  “Do you know how the fire started?” asked Macie in a small voice.

  “There was no storm,” Len explained slowly. “Dusty was on watch and he said he thought he heard rustlers earlier. He and Saul went off to search for them. When they returned to the herd, they spotted the flames. If I had to guess, it appears someone lured them off and then set the fire.”

  Alarm slammed through Blake. Someone had intentionally started this fire? He knew exactly who might have done such a thing and it filled him with cold fear. If Lucien Durning was starting to carry out his threats, none of them were safe. Maybe he’d been wrong to keep quiet about his latest run-in with the man. If Pa had known about it, would he have posted more guards? Of course, with the ranch hands they currently had, they couldn’t have added many mo
re men without exhausting them pretty quickly. Blake’s presence could have made a difference there, he noted guiltily.