Trail of Golden Dreams

by Coverstone, Stacey

  “Me neither,” Slim Jim said. “Harp’s one of the best trackers I know, but I guess he won’t be of much use. I doubt he’ll even live through the night.” He and Del took another gander at the bleeding, unconscious man hanging over his horse like a sack of potatoes.

  “Damned idiot should have known better than to get himself trampled,” Del said, disgusted.

  Garrett vehemently protested. “Are you calling me an idiot cause I got a broke foot? You’d better not shoot your mouth off again or I’ll whip you.” He slapped Del upside the head with his hand.

  “Why you…” Del twisted around in his saddle and raised his fist to hit back.

  “Shut up! Both of you!” Kendall bellowed.

  The two of them shut up, and Del lowered his hand.

  The marshal’s horse danced in a circle. When it settled, Kendall said, “I’m fully aware of the fact that neither of you can track the horse shit on your boots. That’s why I’m gonna be hiring Reno King.”

  From behind the relative safety of the thicket, Josie smothered a gasp. Everyone knew Reno King was the best tracker west of the Mississippi. He never failed to find his man. And, in most cases she’d heard about, it didn’t matter to King whether he brought that man in dead or alive.

  “What makes you think you can enlist Reno King?” Del asked with suspicion. “Last I heard he was over in Bisbee planning to marry some whore.”

  “Shows what you know,” Kendall replied darkly. “Reno King didn’t marry no whore. And he’s as greedy as you two bottom dwellers. I happen to know he’ll be in Dry Gulch tomorrow morning. When he finds out what that girl is holding, he’ll be on her like a badger on a bunny.”

  “What if we don’t want to share our portion with Reno King?” Slim Jim boldly asked.

  The marshal had obviously lost patience. He adjusted his seat in the saddle. “You don’t have a say in it, Garrett. You can close your pie hole now and go along with my plan, or I can dig a shallow grave right here and throw you in it. I’ve only got a pocket knife on me, but, by God, I’ll dig all night long if that’s what it takes.” Quick as a whip, Kendall leaned and shoved the barrel of his .45 against Slim Jim’s temple. “What say you?” he asked, in an odd turn of phrase.

  “I...I’m with you, marshal,” Garrett stammered. “That…that’s a good plan.”

  “I thought you’d see it my way.” Kendall twirled the gun on his finger and then stuck it back in his holster. He rubbed his shoulder. “Now, let’s git. My arm’s sore. I need a stiff whiskey, a loose woman, and a soft bed. In that order.”

  With Del leading the horse carrying Harp, and Slim Jim riding double behind his back, the marshal of Dry Gulch and his compadres trotted out of the forest.

  Josie stayed hidden for thirty minutes, in case they were pulling the wool over her eyes. When she was certain they’d left for good, she reined Traveler out of the thicket and back onto the path. There was a cave not far ahead where she would camp for the night. There was nothing left to go home to.

  As she and the mule walked toward their destination, her head began to ache. She was cold, hungry, and weary. It had been a long day full of shocking surprises. Bobbing in the saddle, she contemplated her next move. Marshal Kendall had headed back to Dry Gulch to hire the best tracker in three territories. What kind of chance would she have once Reno King joined the manhunt?

  All this because of an envelope her pa had left her. She hadn’t even opened the envelope yet. She had no idea what was in it, so how could the preacher and the marshal possibly know what was inside? As soon as she got to the cave, she would start a fire. She was frozen to the bone. Then she’d open the envelope and discover the contents. Whatever was inside had put her life at risk.

  Traveler was all Josie had left. She no longer had a home or family, and she barely had two coins to rub together. There was nowhere for her to go and no one to turn to. More than ever before, she was completely alone in the world. Sniffling, she felt salt burn her eyes. But if she let the tears fall, she was afraid they’d never stop. Confiding in Traveler, as she’d done many times before, she said, “Even Del, who’s been sweet on me since we were kids, is after me. What am I going to do, old friend?”

  That question, and more like it, haunted her as she entered the mouth of the cave under the light of the full moon. Josie tied the mule to a tree, and he immediately started yanking weeds out of the ground for his supper. After gathering an armful of sticks and pine needles from near the mouth of the cave, she carried them inside and mounded the kindling up to form a teepee. Yawning, she checked on her mule one more time.

  “You’d better get a good night’s sleep, buddy. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and we’re gonna start out early.” She lifted the leather pouches off the saddle horn, stepped back into the cave, and knelt on the hard ground.

  Inside the saddlebags was a small wooden box containing some phosphorous matchsticks. She struck one on the heel of her boot and held it to the teepee of kindling until it caught. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she blew softly. In a matter of minutes, a small fire was blazing. “That’s better,” she said, rubbing her hands together. The temperature outside had dropped, but she knew it would soon be warm and toasty inside her safe hideout. Standing up, she stretched her arms above her head. Then she glanced down at her skirts. “I’ve got a hard ride ahead of me in the morning. These skirts will not do. Will they, boy?” Traveler glanced her way and kept eating.

  Josie had never considered it odd to talk to the mule, since he was her closest friend and the two of them were often alone. He was always a good listener. “Good thing I packed a pair of pants in my bag,” she told him.

  She wiggled free of the full skirt and petticoats and spread them out on a big rock. After slipping into her work pants, she pulled out the extra shirt she’d packed and rolled it into a ball. It would serve as her pillow for the night.

  Although she was hungry and exhausted, smoked jerky and sleep would have to wait a little longer. The time had come to learn what was inside the envelope from her pa. The darn thing had cost her the cabin and nearly her life. She huddled near the fire with her back against the cave wall. With her hands trembling, she reached inside the saddlebags and retrieved the battered envelope. Staring at it thoughtfully, she said aloud, “Pa, what have you gotten me into this time?”

  Josie slid a finger under the flap and pulled out a single piece of yellowed parchment paper and opened it slowly. The orange flames from the fire danced in front of her, allowing her enough light to easily see to read.

  Drawn on the paper was the crude sketch of a map. In the bottom right-hand corner was the child-like picture of a house, which she assumed was the Hart cabin. There was a big arrow drawn beside the house pointing upward. A long squiggly line stretched from the cabin to the top of the parchment, with different symbols and illustrations scribbled near the line.

  Her pa had made some upside down V’s, which, she guessed, were meant to depict mountains. Studying the various symbols, some were obvious as to their meaning, but others were a mystery as to what they stood for. Her pa was no artist; that was for sure. One thing was clear, however. He had left her a road map leading north.

  Although her head was filled to the brim with questions, and she wasn’t sure it could hold one more thought, she recalled the exact words her pa had spoken to her in the jail. He’d said, What’s in that envelope is going to allow you to change your life. You’ll be able to get off that God-forsaken farm and live like a real lady.

  At the time, his rambling hadn’t made any sense. She’d thought the realization of his imminent death had rattled his brain and caused him to talk gibberish. The envelope would change her life. What else had he told her? She racked her brains to remember. He’d said, You won’t ever have to work hard again. Go anywhere you want. Do anything you please. He’d also urged her to protect the envelope with her life.

  Now she knew why. This map, crude as it was, would lead her to something special. S
he could go anywhere and do anything she wanted. She could have a fresh start. She could go to San Francisco. Those things could only be possible if she had money—lots of money.

  It’s my way of making it up to you.

  Josie’s palms grew wet, and her heart pounded inside her chest. Had Pa committed one final crime in the name of love?

  It was becoming clear. He hadn’t picked some poor sap’s pocket, or cheated at cards as he usually did. Not this time. This crime was no two-bit robbery. Pa had stumbled onto something big—something that could make a person rich, and he’d come home and made sure she was the beneficiary of his good fortune. For once, it seemed, Leroy Hart had turned bad luck into good, and his last wish had been to save her from a life of hardship and misery.

  A hot tear suddenly rolled down Josie’s cheek. Pa had also mentioned her mother in his farewell speech. It had been many years since her mama’s name had been spoken between them. Had he simply been waxing sentimental in the final moments of his life on earth? Or had he been trying to give her a clue of some sort? Did her ma have something to do with this map?

  Josie pulled a stick of beef jerky from her bag and chewed slowly, trying to unravel the riddle. Both the preacher and the marshal had come after her because they knew she held a treasure map. The big question was how did they know? Were the two of them and her pa in cahoots together? Had they been a part of the same gang at some time? That scenario seemed far-fetched and unlikely. Her pa ran scared of the law, and he’d never once stepped foot inside a church, as far as she knew. The preacher was fond of the drink, as she’d learned earlier in the evening. Maybe he and Pa had met in a saloon somewhere.

  Shaking her head, she dismissed that idea, too. She couldn’t imagine the no-nonsense marshal or the slick preacher putting up with a bumbling dunce like Pa had been.

  She thought it over some more as she finished the jerky. Marshal Kendall must have overheard Pa talking in the jail. That’s all she could figure. Lawmen were some of the most corrupt men in the West, and Marshal Kendall had been a gunfighter in the past. Obviously, he thought she was a young, helpless woman who would be an easy mark. “If he gets rid of me, he can go after the treasure himself,” she reasoned aloud.

  As for the preacher…Somehow he’d gotten wind of her pa’s luck. But how? Was he mixed up with the marshal? She didn’t think so. He would have ridden out to the cabin with Kendall, Del and the others if he’d been part of their gang. Instead, he’d visited her alone. Then, how had he…?

  Josie snapped her finger. “That’s it! My pa must have let his good news slip when he confessed in the jail. I’m sure it never crossed his mind that a man of the cloth would try to rob his daughter.” She twisted the cap off her canteen and let the lukewarm water slide down her dry throat. “At least the preacher’s now out of the mix,” she said, continuing to talk out loud. “It’s just the marshal, Del and Reno King I have to worry about. And maybe Slim Jim, if he gets his foot bandaged.”

  She tossed a few more sticks on the fire and placed the rolled-up shirt behind her head. “There’s one more thing,” Josie said, gazing at her mule. “We don’t know who stretched that rope across the path back there. Whoever it was, I owe them one. It was a mighty fine trap, whether it was meant to be or not.”

  Her weary gaze skimmed the parchment once more. The trail will be long, Pa had said. Will I have the courage and strength to follow it? Will I be able to fulfill his last wish and make my own dreams come true? For the first time in her life, Josie felt hopeful about the future as she clutched the map tightly in her fist. Though excited, she was dog-tired, both mentally and physically. Her eyes started to drift shut.

  She had barely nodded off when the sound of snapping branches roused her. It was de’ja’vu all over again. Her head jerked up, and her eyes flew open. Her spine went rigid when a low voice addressed her.

  “I’ll take that map now.”

  Chapter Five

  Josie fished around in her pants pocket for the derringer. Her hand touched the cold metal, and she squeezed her finger around the trigger of the gun and scrambled to her feet.

  “Stay right where you are, and take your hand out of your pockets,” the voice ordered. “You won’t get hurt if you do as you’re told. “ When she hesitated, he barked, “Do it!”

  She squinted at the tall figure standing in the shadows at the mouth of the cave and heard the click of a revolver. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked in a throaty whisper, as she showed him one empty hand.

  “That depends on how much trouble you decide to cause. Just hand over that map and I’ll be on my way.”

  Inhaling deeply, her eyes roamed over the parchment still clutched in her fist. The trail will be long. Don’t give up. Her pa’s words echoed in her ears. Nothing was going to stop her from going after whatever lay at the end of that trail. Pa had died so she could have a better life. No one was going to take that from her.

  “If you want it, you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead fingers,” she responded.

  The man said nothing. The air felt thick with tension.

  “Show yourself,” Josie challenged. Her fingers twitched as she let her hand creep back into her pocket. She gripped the pearl handle of her derringer again. “How do you know about this map? Who are you?”

  The man took one step forward, but she still couldn’t see his face. When he spoke again, she sensed he was someone with little patience.

  “I don’t have to explain anything to a girl,” he snapped. “Walk around that fire and lay the paper on this rock over here.” His gloved hand pointed to a stone ledge, which jutted out from the cave wall.

  “I’m not a girl,” she snapped back. “I’m nineteen, and this map belongs to me. I’m not about to give it to some coward who won’t even show his face.”

  Apparently striking a nerve, the man swiftly strode forward out of the darkness, with his gun raised and leveled at her. The fire danced upon his features. She gasped. He was the stranger who rode the white stallion—the one all in black who’d been watching her in Dry Gulch. Her heart lurched. He tilted his Stetson up with a finger to show her eyes the color of dark molasses. She felt the heat radiating from those fiery pupils as they bore into her.

  “Is that better?” he asked.

  “It’s you!” she exclaimed. “Why are you following me?”

  “I think I already explained. I’ve come for the map. Now hand it over.”

  She gripped the parchment even tighter. Needing to distract him while she took a minute to think this through, she abruptly changed the subject. “Did you set that trap back in the forest?”

  He blinked. “Yeah. I did that.”

  “It was clever. Was the marshal and his gang your target, or was I the one you were trying to ambush?” She didn’t give him time to respond before blurting, “I bet you didn’t count on the fact that a mule can jump over six feet at a standstill, did you?”

  The man’s dark brows furrowed. “Quit your jabbering, girl, and pass that paper to me. I’m not in the mood to play games.” He advanced, stopping in front of her. His tall, muscular frame towered over her.

  Quick as a striking snake, Josie jammed the map in her back pocket and thrust the derringer into his rib. Just as speedy, he shoved his revolver against her temple.

  “You’re fast, but not fast enough,” he drawled. “Put down the gun.”

  “You put yours down first,” she countered.

  Neither one moved. Josie’s chest rose and fell in erratic rhythm. The pistol felt cold as ice pushed against her skin.

  “Are we going to have a Mexican standoff?” he asked.

  She felt his warm breath on her face. He stood so close, his musky smell, mixed with sweat, smoke, and the faint scent of lavender made her woozy. “I know how to use this gun,” she replied. “I’ll shoot you. Don’t think I won’t.” She cocked the derringer to show him she meant what she promised.

  The tall, dark stranger looked down into her eyes. A muscle ticked al
ong his jaw. After several long moments, she felt the release of pressure from her temple.

  “Toss the gun down on the ground,” she commanded, as she kept her gun pointed at his ribcage.

  “I’ll toss mine when you toss yours.”

  Josie searched his face. “Are you crazy, or just stupid? You stalk me, attempt to rob me, and you think I’m going to throw down my gun? Why should I trust you?”

  “Because I’ve never killed a woman before,” he said without skipping a beat. “And I don’t intend to start now.”

  His response sent a jolt through her body. Maybe he wasn’t a cold-hearted killer. After considering his words carefully, Josie removed the gun from his rib. “On the count of three, we’ll both throw our guns onto the ground. Do I have your word as a gentleman?” she asked.

  The man in black threw his head back and laughed. “Whatever gave you the idea I’m a gentleman?”

  She rammed the derringer into his gut again and narrowed her eyes into pinpoints. The gun pressed into taut, rigid muscle. She realized he could probably break her in half with one hand tied behind his back, but she was not about to let him intimidate her. She had too much to lose to let him scare her out of a future she’d only dreamed about before now.

  “I’ll kill you right now, mister. And it won’t bother me none. Believe me. I’ll take my map and hightail it out of here, leaving you as dead as a stone.”

  The man grinned, baring a row of straight teeth. “You’re a tough little half-breed, aren’t you?”

  “Half-breed!” she shrieked, lunging at him. Josie pounded on his chest with her fists and clawed at his shirt. He grabbed her wrists, and both the pistol and derringer flew out of their hands and clattered to the hard ground.

  The stranger pulled her close. Josie struggled under his grasp. “Let me go, you big ignorant brute!” She kicked at his shins, but he lifted her off the ground before her boots could do any real damage. His hands circled her waist in a tight hold.

  “Calm down, missy,” he hollered. Keeping a firm grip on her, he danced the two of them around the cave, trying to avoid her bruising kicks. “I’m not ignorant. It was just a stupid joke. That’s what Leroy always called you. His little half-breed.”