Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3)

by Mary Tate Engels

  Rex studied the page quietly for a while, and returned it with a low grunt. "Okay, okay, I'm satisfied. This is it."

  Tory looked at Rex with great concern. "Do you think you'll be all right without medical care for a few more days? We don't want your arm healing crooked."

  "Damned if I know," he mumbled. "The pain's still there, a dull ache unless I move it wrong. Then it shoots up my arm. Otherwise, I'm just sore. And I understand there's nothing much to do about these damned ribs except wrap them and try not to move. They only hurt when I breathe."

  She brought him a coffee refill. "I'm sorry you've been injured, Rex. You know, maybe we should go back and take care of you."

  "Go back?" Ramona and Dodge chorused together.

  Rex gave Tory a grateful glance. "Sometimes this lady speaks with great insight. I wouldn't be opposed to it. I don't see anything that proves Sharkey found gold, just a few glittering rocks. Hell, that won't even pay my medical bills."

  "See?" Tory said. "Rex needs help. And I . . . I'm sorry, but I agree with him about the gold. So far, we haven't seen anything positive enough to risk staying much longer."

  "I can't believe you're saying this," Ramona implored. "You know it's here. Sharkey said so."

  "No, I don't know it," Tory said, shaking her head. She sat down again and examined her own chipped nails and battered hands. "This is not what I expected, I'll admit. I guess I was thinking of something more like buried treasure, as Yazzie said, with all of it piled in a hidden trunk or something. I didn't realize we'd have to work so hard for it. Maybe I'm just too soft, but I can't see going on much longer."

  "She's right," Yazzie spoke up. "It looks hopeless to me. We haven't seen anything yet, and we should have. We could be here for years, chipping away at a stone wall. I vote with Rex and Sharkey's daughter. We ought to pack up and leave."

  Dodge shifted and dropped his hands between widespread knees. "Maybe we could speed the process up if we blasted—."

  "That's too dangerous!" Yazzie interjected quickly. "No blasting. There's no need for it, anyway."

  "Why not? You brought some dynamite along, didn't you?" Dodge gave him a darkly accusing stare.

  Yazzie narrowed his black eyes. "I don't know if there's any dynamite in the supplies or not. I didn't pack 'em."

  "But you brought some in your own saddlebag, Yazzie," Dodge said firmly. "I saw it."

  "Well, if so, it's not enough for anything. I don't want to have anything to do with blasting up here. Too dangerous."

  "I assumed that's what it's for. We can't chip away all day and come up with nothing. We need some help speeding up the process."

  Yazzie stood up, and his voice reached a voluminous pitch. "Hell, no! You don't know all the dangers, Dodge. I won't allow any blasting around here! Do you want the entire mine to cave in on us?"

  "No, of course not. I realize it must be done carefully."

  Swiftly, Yazzie set his coffee cup down near the fire. "I said no blasting. That's final." He wheeled around and stalked away into the darkness. "Somebody else will get hurt."

  Everyone stared curiously at the blackness where their Indian guide disappeared.

  "What the hell was that all about?" Rex grumbled.

  "Why did that comment about somebody else getting hurt sound so ominous? Almost like a threat!" Ramona countered with a frightened glint in her dark eyes.

  Dodge observed a distant tiny glow on the hillside and knew that Yazzie was lighting a cigar. "Sounds like Yazzie doesn't want to rush this job with a little blasting."

  "Is he right?" Tory asked. "Is it really that dangerous to blast?"

  "Sure, there's danger. You have to know what you're doing," Dodge said. "I've worked around it a little. And I know Yazzie has. He would know how to do it safely. But obviously, he has a major objection to using explosives at this site. I don't understand why, though."

  "It's because he doesn't want us to find more gold," Rex grumbled.

  "Could be," Dodge mused, stroking his mustache thoughtfully.

  Ramona gazed up the hill where Yazzie sat smoking and rubbed her arms warily. "I wish I knew what was going on inside his head. He makes me nervous."

  "Me, too," Tory agreed, tightlipped.

  "Well, I say we should give it one more day," Dodge proposed. "Let's see what we can discover tomorrow. If nothing that glitters shows up, I'll consider returning. We do need to get Rex back to medical care. What do you think, Ramona?"

  She nodded reluctantly. "Something inside me says we're pushing it. One more day and that's it."

  "Rex? Tory? You two agree?"

  Everyone nodded affirmatively, and they rose to get ready for bed.

  "Uh, Dodge . . ." Ramona approached him almost shyly. But she didn't have to ask, for he understood.

  "Sure, Ramona. Come on and stay with us," he said.

  "Yes," Tory agreed with a smile, and fell into step with Ramona. "Like Dodge said earlier, we need to stick together."

  "And trust one another," Ramona said with a grateful smile.

  "In fact, everyone's so uneasy tonight," Dodge said softly, "I think I'll keep watch for a while. Just to make sure nothing unusual happens."

  "I'd feel better if you did, Dodge," Ramona agreed. "The way things have been going lately, you can't tell what'll happen next."

  Tory wasn't sure if she felt safer with Dodge on watch or with his arms wrapped around her all night. The thought that they needed a watchman was unnerving. A brief smile aimed at him revealed a twinge of regret that they wouldn't be sleeping together.

  While Dodge made more coffee, the women quietly fixed their sleeping bags and slipped into them. It was a strange combination of circumstances that had drawn Sharkey's daughter and his lover together. What had started out as a natural antagonistic relationship between the two women had become a warm alliance.

  "G'night, Tory. I've never been so tired," Ramona said. "I ache all over."

  "Me, too. I've never worked so hard. Good night, Ramona."

  From his vacant window ledge seat, Dodge watched over the small sleeping group. He sipped black coffee and leaned back against the sturdy wall. The old adobe bricks were still warm from the day's heat, and he absorbed it gratefully into the deep aching muscles of his back. Aching from only one day of the backbreaking labor of trying to find that elusive gold.

  Dodge knew that some men did this for years. Some for a lifetime. Some, like Sharkey, never found it. Or when they did, it was too late. Meanwhile, Sharkey, like many of the others, lost everything and everyone who ever loved him. Was it worth the losses? Sharkey lost his wife and daughter. Oh, he always said if he ever struck it rich, they would get a large share. If. Of course, for him it never happened.

  Dodge couldn't help wondering if that's where he was heading in the same direction as Sharkey, looking for something so elusive that it was impossible to find? And losing everything and everyone valuable along the way.

  So far, there was nothing of value in his life. He'd carefully avoided any lasting relationships, had skipped out on a few situations that looked too promising, too long lasting. In his fleeting relationships with women, Dodge was known as a heart- breaker, but that didn't bother him. Until now.

  His dark gaze swept over the two bedrolls that cocooned Ramona and Tory. He was proud of them. The two women had worked hard today without complaint. Now they both slept, completely trusting his ability to keep them safe from harm.

  Trusting. That's the way Tory had come into his arms. Fully trusting him, completely willing to be his lover. What did she think would happen to them? Did she want it to continue, after they were through here?

  Dodge sat bolt upright. Did he?

  Right now, he couldn't answer that. He didn't know his own mind, his heart. What did his heart tell him? That she was in love with him? Her blue eyes confirmed it when she looked at him. But did he love her? He only knew that he would do anything in his power to keep her from being hurt.

  He'd always prided himself
that he'd never let any woman "catch" him, had never been "trapped" by affairs of the heart. He'd always admired Sharkey for living the kind of life he wanted to, without the impediment of a family, even the remote one in California. Now, though, he'd met a member of that small family and could see the years of pain and sadness and trouble Sharkey had caused by his irresponsibility.

  Now the whole situation took on a different tone. He saw Sharkey as a selfish man, willing to sacrifice anything or anyone for his own personal interests. Interests that at one time had seemed the same as Dodge's. But now, he wasn't sure.

  Oh, he still wanted to find the gold. But even for that he was unwilling to risk the lives of his friends. And nothing—nothing—was worth risking harm to Tory.

  The sun seekers had a job to do tomorrow. And only one day to do it. After that, if they didn't strike it rich, all of them would go back to their own lives. Yazzie could go back to being the remote mountain man, renting mules to occasional mountain expeditions. He might come up here occasionally to peck at the vein of gold. Rex could continue his business successes, making a name for himself in the community. Ramona could be the quiet, intelligent college professor who documented Indian pictographs. Tory could return to L.A. and her retail business.

  And himself? Teaching? Not much hope in that. Oh, he could continue being a drifter, a sun seeker. Not a very promising future. But it seemed to be all he knew. He dozed until the pink shafts of dawn colored the sky above the eastern slopes of the Dragoon Mountains. Dodge boiled coffee to a rich black brew. Yazzie joined him, and slowly the others began to wake.

  They ate a meager breakfast of pan toast with honey and canned fruit before heading up to the mine, leaving the breakfast cleanup to Rex. He tackled the job willingly, for it gave him something to do. Even though his culinary efforts were one-handed and clumsy, he could make a contribution to the expedition.

  Meanwhile, the others sweated and chipped away at the hard rock that concealed the elusive gold without the convenience of dynamite.

  It was midmorning when the shout echoed against the mountains. "Gold! We found gold!"

  Ramona waved excitedly at Rex. "Come on up and see it, Rex! Gold!"

  He waved in return and hurriedly made his way up the hill, leading a pack mule as he had been instructed. The mule would haul the gold back. Oh, they were well prepared for the bonanza! Rex clucked and pulled on the mule's bridle. By the time they reached the mine, he was bathed in perspiration from the rising heat, and the mule was covered in a thin, foamy lather.

  The heat only increased his disappointment at the meager gold. "This is it?"

  They gathered around the little pile of rocks. It took a trained eye to determine that there was gold somewhere in that yellowish stone. And Rex's eye was far from trained. He—as well as the others— expected glittering hunks.

  Yazzie's fiendish laughter cackled at Rex's reaction. "Yep, that's about it. Hardly worth a broken arm and cracked ribs, is it?"

  Rex bent to handle the rocks and let the smaller pieces tumble through his fingers. "How do you know it's gold? It isn't gold colored. It's . . . it's ugly!"

  Ramona knelt beside Rex and pointed out several discolored trails through the rocks. "There. And there. Dodge says it is. Even Yazzie admitted it was gold."

  "Of course, we have to have it assayed to determine its value," Dodge explained.

  Yazzie laughed again. "Right now we hardly have enough to pay for the supplies and food for this trip. Haven't gotten to your doctor bills yet, Rex."

  "Come on, Yazzie," Dodge said. "This is just the beginning. It merely proves there's gold down there. All we have to do is get to work and find it."

  "And haul it out," Ramona added soberly. She, too, was disappointed in the quantity. She could only hope the quality was high.

  "Hell, all we have to do is chip this whole mountain away!" Yazzie exploded. "And all Rex has to do is wait for us to do the work. Then he can be rich."

  Rex stood and faced Yazzie angrily. "Look, you jackass. Who do you suppose put the money up for this little exploration in the first place? I funded everything that Sharkey did, and I'm still putting out the bucks! So far, all I've gotten in return is a broken arm, cracked ribs, and a lot of flack from the likes of you!"

  Dodge stepped between them. "Take it easy, you two. Everybody's hot and tired today. Yazzie, he's right. Rex's investment comes off the top of our find."

  "Not mine," Yazzie said stoutly.

  "Let's work this out later," Ramona said. "Time's passing and it's getting hotter. Come on. We have work to do. It's our turn to go down, Yazzie. Let's go. They can load what we have here." She took Yazzie's arm and led him away from the confrontation.

  "What's wrong with him?" Rex moaned as he opened one of the saddlebags for Dodge to load their small prize.

  "Beats me. We're all tired, though. Two nights with practically no sleep have left me nearly exhausted. I guess Yazzie is in about the same shape."

  "Why don't you go take a little siesta, Dodge?" Rex suggested.

  Tory agreed. "Yes. This will be a good time while Yazzie and Ramona are down in the mine. After they've had their turn, we'll all take a lunch break."

  "Actually, we should all take a little siesta until this heat has eased up a little," Rex said.

  "Sounds too good to refuse," Dodge replied, shaking his head. "Okay. Just a couple of hours, though. Wake me." He left the mule for Tory to lead and accompanied Rex back down the small mountain to camp.

  As Dodge heaved himself down in the shade of a large mesquite tree, he muttered, "Just a few hours of shut-eye, Rex. Then I want to go after the mining again."

  Rex prepared sandwiches for lunch, and afterward, everyone willingly agreed to take a break from the extreme heat. And still Dodge slept.

  "He didn't even wake for lunch. He must have been exhausted," Ramona commented.

  "I think so," Tory agreed, her gentle gaze caressing Dodge's long, lean frame stretched out under the tree. His Stetson shaded his face from the midday sun, and his hands lay relaxed below his belt buckle. His jean-clad legs sprawled apart.

  Tory joined Ramona. She pulled out her fingernail clippers. "My hands are a mess Nails will never be the same," she grumbled.

  Ramona shifted restlessly and finally said, "You know, Tory, this will probably be my last chance to explore this area, especially if we head back tomorrow. How would you like to go with me to look for Indian pictographs?"

  Tory considered the offer for a moment, and nodded. "Sure, Ramona. I'd love to go. It sounds interesting."

  "I think it is. You never know what you'll find." Ramona's eyes lighted up with the prospect of introducing Tory to her special hobby. "Sharkey used to go with me. It wasn't his thing, but he did share some of my enthusiasm. And he helped with some interesting finds."

  The two women started off together, hiking around the base of the pyramid-shaped mountain.

  They found a few pot-shards, broken remnants of the lives of ancient people who lived in the area hundreds of years ago. Spurred on by the interesting items, they started to climb toward the huge boulders on the far side of the pyramid.

  "We're in luck, Tory. Here's something that's very old." Ramona picked up a smooth gray stone large enough to fill her palm and held it out. "The Indians used this against another stone to grind corn into meal. It's called a mano. The other part is a bowl-shaped stone and called a metate. It might be around here, too. Let's try to find it."

  The women searched intently for the other part of the ancient kitchen utensil.

  "Ramona, this looks like a small stairway, carved right into the rocks." Tory pointed to the shallow grooves pock-marking a sheer rock, leading upward. "Do we dare follow it?"

  Ramona examined the area. "It leads up to that ledge. Are you afraid to climb up there?"

  "After the climbing we've done in that gold mine?" Tory laughed. "Heavens no! This is a breeze. Let's go. I'm curious."

  "At the very least, we'll have a great view of th
e whole valley from up there," Ramona said, and led the way. Carefully, she placed each foot into one carved step at a time. She grasped the steps above her for balance.

  Tory watched the process and followed suit. When they reached the ledge, they found that it was a sort of staircase landing in the rocks. The stairs continued. So the women proceeded farther.

  At the next landing, the path led to a low, narrow opening between two huge boulders.

  "Shall we go on?" Tory eagerly went ahead. "This is fascinating, Ramona. Do you think ancient people actually lived here?"

  "Oh, yes. It's a secure area, with an excellent view of the valley for protection. The warriors could sit here and see for miles. Imagine the Indian woman climbing this with a baby strapped to her back."

  "I'll bet it made them think twice before they said, 'I'm going for a walk,' " Tory said, chuckling. "Or told the kids to go out and play." But her laughter dwindled as she squeezed through the doorway and turned the corner that led into a cave-like room. And stepped back in time.

  She drew in a gasp and stared in silent amazement, awestruck by the ancient trappings surrounding her. The room looked as if it had just been abandoned by the near Stone Age family who lived in it.

  Ramona stepped into the cave and stood beside Tory in silence. Finally, she murmured, "Oh, my God, I can't . . . believe it." Her voice cracked with emotion as she realized just exactly what they'd found. "This is a chance of a lifetime, Tory. It's an anthropologist's dream, like a real-life museum, left intact for the future generations to find. Usually, all we have to work with are bits and pieces. But it's all here together. I still can't believe it's never been found."

  Tory began to walk around, curiously picking at a few things. "This must have been the kitchen," she said, an unconscious reverence in her voice. Charcoal sticks lay in a circular pile on the floor, and soot marred the ceiling above it. A huge clay pot, the bottom blackened from cooking, waited for the next meal. Though undecorated, the pot was unchipped, a rare relic, even for museums.

  Pots and bowls crudely painted with black and white designs were stacked along one wall, waiting for the next meal.