Ghost Mine

by Hunter Shea

  Her deep-brown eyes held me captive while I talked. “Do you have a wife? Any kids?”

  “Almost and no. Unless you count Teta.” She laughed, smooth as honey.

  I’m a man of few words who rarely divulges any details about my past. For some reason, I was happy to tell her anything she wanted to know. It was like I’d known her all my life, and here we were, reunited and catching up on old times.

  “Well, it’s never too late.” She put her hand to her mouth as if she were trying to shove the words back in.

  “Romance is for the young,” I said. “Whatever charm I used to have is long gone.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Her words hung in the air between us.

  She added, “I didn’t know there was a limit to charm and romance.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. You’re still young. It’s easier for a woman, especially an attractive one.”

  I guided her into a U-turn so we could get back to camp. Especially with night closing in, I wanted to keep us all together.

  I changed the subject and said, “Enough about this old sawhorse. On account of your being out here with us now, I’m assuming you and your husband didn’t have kids.”

  “No, we were never blessed. Hank used to say he wanted a whole posse of boys. I secretly wanted three girls. I was raised with five brothers. I’d had my fill of boys.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, was your mother Mexican? You don’t look much like your daddy.”

  She picked up a rock and threw it into a lone shard of glass that was left standing in a window pane in a cabin to our right. Everything had collapsed but the façade. The glass exploded with a crash that seemed louder because Hecla was devoid of normal night sounds.

  “Good shot.”

  “You should see me with a rifle. To answer your question, yes, my mother was from a little town in Mexico called Orizaba. I’d love to go and see where she grew up, maybe meet family that I’ve never seen or even heard of before. It’s a long way from here, and I couldn’t do it alone. But I dream that someday, maybe after my father passes, the opportunity will present itself.”

  “It’s been my experience that you have to make your opportunities. I’ve never been to Mexico myself. Fought some Mexicans off on cattle drives, fought with some against the Apaches. Food’s a bit too spicy for me.”

  We turned a corner. Our fire blazed in the distance. Teta must have just thrown some more wood on.

  “I hope my food wasn’t too spicy.”

  I patted my stomach. “No, your cooking was just about perfect.”

  We stopped and faced one another. Selma’s eyes were as dark as the patches between the stars, and just as impenetrable. She said, “Thanks for the walk. I think I’ll turn in and get some rest.”

  Looks like you’ve gotten more than your fill of beauty sleep, I almost said.

  “We’ll be right out here if you need anything. Just going to watch the fire burn itself out.”

  There was an awkward moment where both of us made to say something else, stopped, then thought better of it. She bade Teta a good-night and stepped into the house.

  “Have a nice walk, jefe?” Teta was nursing a bottle of bourbon that had about two fingers left swirling along the bottom. I took it from him and made it one finger less.

  “Nothing like sitting around a fire with you, but it helped pass the time.”

  There was no need to tell him the feelings that Selma had stirred up in me. The man could read my face like one of his precious books.

  Chapter Eighteen

  We set up watch again, with me volunteering to take the first shift this time. Teta was dead on his feet. At least I’d gotten some shut-eye before those kids came knocking. It was agreed that we not tell Selma about the black-eyed kids. She had enough on her mind, with wondering about her lost husband, Indians and the footprints in the hills.

  Inside the house, Selma had set herself up in the far corner, opposite Teta, for propriety’s sake. When I left them, she turned over and said “good night”, while Teta found the book Teddy had given to me and hung the lantern on a nail over his head.

  “Think I’ll see why Teddy gave this to you. Something in here has to relate to Hecla.”

  I’d completely forgotten about the book and was more than happy to have him slog through it. “You all finished with Mars?”

  “Sí. Things didn’t go well for them. They died by getting sick. Makes you think, huh?”

  “That it does.”

  I set myself up across the street, hiding in the shadows amidst fallen planks. The moon was barely a sliver but the stars were plentiful. The sweet scent of honeysuckle danced on the cooling breeze that whispered through the cracks in the tattered hideout. It was so quiet my breathing sounded like a heavy, steady scream.

  The night went without incident. No kids. No Indians. Just darkness and silence. I heard Teta sneaking up behind me. He was good at keeping undercover. We didn’t want any potential interlopers knowing we had set up a watch.

  “That was pretty good,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the empty street. “I never saw you leave the house.”

  Something scuffed on the floor, like a boot being dragged. “Teta?”

  I turned and saw only the ruins of the house.

  My eyes were good and acclimated to the dark, but I couldn’t make out a thing. It was like the interior of the house had somehow turned blacker than night, just like the endless gloom of the mine.

  With both hands on my rifle, I held my breath back as much as I could, trying to keep stiller than a stone.

  Scritch.

  Easing the hammer back with my thumb, I tensed. I hadn’t imagined the sounds. Someone was in here with me.

  I tried again. “Teta, is that you?”

  A rotted board shifted to my left. I swung the rifle in that direction.

  It wasn’t Teta. He was smarter than that. A man could get killed messing around with an armed man on night watch.

  Whoever was creeping toward me was close. So close I should have been able to see them. The roof was missing, so even some light from the stars should have made its way in. What the hell was going on?

  Wood groaned and I could feel it vibrate under my feet.

  Come on, you son of a bitch. Step a little closer so I can see you.

  It was more than just hearing things. I could feel the presence of someone close by. Even blind men could tell when someone sidled up to them. In essence, I was blind, and I knew damn well that I wasn’t alone.

  I waited, my finger pulled back on the trigger just enough so it wouldn’t take much more to introduce lead to the creeper in the dark.

  A hand dropped on my shoulder and I pushed back with my heels to drive myself into the person at my back. Crashing through the decayed wood of the front of the house, I landed on top of someone. He grabbed me by my shoulders in an attempt to roll me over and get the upper hand. Snapping my head back, I felt his face crunch against my skull.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Crap. It was Teta.

  I rolled off him and helped get him to his feet. We jumped back when the house groaned, shuddered, and finally collapsed on itself. A cloud of dust and splinters blew into our faces.

  “That should do him in,” I said.

  “Who? Why did you hit me?”

  Pointing at the rubble, I said, “Someone was in there. At first I thought it was you, come to relieve me. I called your name and when you didn’t answer, I knew it had to be someone else. I heard them moving closer. When you touched my shoulder, my sense of self-preservation kicked in. Sorry about that.”

  Teta massaged his nose. A slight trickle of blood ran over his lips and down the stubble of his chin.

  “You’ve got a head like a cannonball, you know that?”

  “Is it broke
n?” I asked, pointing at his nose.

  “No. Just smarts.”

  I turned my attention back to the jagged pile that was once a house. “I don’t suppose whoever it was got out of there. We should probably check.”

  Using the tip of my boot to kick a plank away, I knelt down to see into the debris. Nothing. Not even the sound of settling wood could be heard. It was as if the spirit of the place had up and left and nothing remained to see or say.

  “If someone’s in there, they’re flat as a flapjack,” Teta said. His nose had swelled up and his voice had a nasal twang.

  I was about to dig around a bit when something bright and soft, like a lit streetlamp in a blizzard, flickered into view at the other end of the jumble of timber. Squinting hard, I pointed it out to Teta.

  “Fireflies?” I said.

  “Can’t be. It’s too big.”

  We watched the faded light float behind the next building.

  No sooner had we taken our first step in pursuit than something shrieked loud enough to wake the dead.

  It was Selma.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We raced over to the house, forgetting the odd light by the hideout.

  Selma’s screams came one after the other. I burst through the door to find her standing in the corner, her wide eyes fixed on the window opposite her. She had her hands balled into fists at her chest.

  “Selma, what’s the matter? Are you all right?”

  A scream died in her throat, but her lips trembled and heavy tears rolled down her olive cheeks. She couldn’t take her eyes from the window. I motioned with my head for Teta to check it out. He darted over, saw nothing, then dashed outside.

  “What’s the matter? Did you see something?”

  I had to shake her a bit to calm her down. At first, when she looked at me, it was as if she didn’t even recognize me. She blinked a few times and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She was breathing heavily and I worried she might pass out.

  “It’s me, Nat. Selma, can you tell me what happened?” I felt her muscles relax under my hands.

  “I saw him,” she said. Her voice trembled, like a little girl’s when she was hurt.

  “Saw who?”

  I staggered back as she threw her arms around me and pressed her face into my chest, sobbing. Holding her tight because I wanted to keep her on her feet, I gently patted her back.

  Teta came back inside, huffing. He shook his head.

  When Selma’s crying ebbed a bit, I tilted her chin up and asked, “Who did you see that got you so worked up? We can’t help you if we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

  Selma sniffed and squeezed her eyes tight.

  “It was Hank. My husband was looking through that window. But it wasn’t him. I…I can’t explain it. The way he looked at me. It was…it was like he wanted to hurt me. I never saw such hatred! Nothing about him looked right, but I know it was Hank.”

  “Was he alone?” I asked.

  She nodded her head against my chest.

  “Teta, hold her for a minute. I want to get a good look outside.”

  It wasn’t easy passing her over to Teta. She had a good grip on my shirt. I grabbed the lantern and went out back to where she’d seen her missing husband.

  There wasn’t a track to be seen. Unless he’d floated on air, he would have left something behind.

  A harsh breeze started to pick up, blowing bits of grit into my eyes. I had to hold my hat to keep it from flying off my head. I turned my back to the wind and smelled the air. It didn’t have the scent of an oncoming storm. Spending most of my life on the range, I got to know when a storm was coming by sight and smell pretty good. If I was wrong, and this was more than just a passing wind, I hoped the house would hold up.

  When I got back inside, Teta was handing Selma a cup of bourbon. She was on her knees atop her bedroll. Her tears had stopped but she was good and spooked.

  “You spot anything, jefe?”

  “Nothing. And if there are tracks to be found, that wind will wipe it all out.” The house groaned against the oncoming blast. Small pebbles tinkled against the panes like hail. Teta eyed the roof, muttering a prayer in Spanish to keep it from falling on our heads.

  I poured a cup of bourbon for myself and stood over Selma.

  “You said you saw your husband, but that it wasn’t exactly him. What did you mean by that?”

  A little of the spitfire in her had returned and she took a moment to think. She chewed the end of her finger while she puzzled things out.

  Finally, she said, “It was Hank all right. Same height, same build, and I know his face better than my own. There was just one problem, and it’s what set me off shrieking, instead of running out to hold him and ask him where the hell he’d been.”

  Teta’s spurs clinked as he walked to close the door. A good deal of dust was blowing into the house.

  “It was his skin. It, well, it glowed. It wasn’t natural. Even a full moon couldn’t light someone up like that. But it wasn’t the moon. That glow, it was coming from him, not on him. I know that’s not making any sense. You probably think I’m just a hysterical woman who would be better off home doing woman’s work.”

  “We’re in the state that was the first to give women the right to vote. I’m not about to tell you what a woman’s work should be,” I said to lighten things a bit.

  Selma flashed a short-lived smile. “It wasn’t just his skin, though. It was his clothes too. I don’t know. Maybe he had a lantern on the ground and the way the light filtered through that old glass made it look like he was glowing.”

  Now I had glowing missing husbands to add to the list with tommyknockers, weird kids, plus whatever it was I’d heard and seen in the house. I had a mind to tell Teddy tomorrow to send troops to blow up the town and mark it off limits.

  “I think we’ve had enough excitement for tonight. Teta was supposed to have watch until dawn. Seeing as our hideout just collapsed and the windstorm is making visibility near zero, it’s probably best we all stay in here.”

  Teta tipped his sombrero and took a position by the door.

  As confused and concerned as I was about everything, I was also dead tired. “Best we get some sleep,” I said to Selma.

  She pushed her onyx hair from her face and nodded.

  “You okay with me turning the lantern off?” Teta asked her. “I don’t want to be seen.”

  “Yes. I’ll be fine. Maybe it was just a dream.”

  Maybe everything here is a dream, I thought as I settled down and put my hat over my face. Then the dreams did come, and I went along for the ride.

  * * *

  At one point near dawn I startled awake. Something had nudged me in the side. I looked over to see that Selma had moved her bedroll sometime in the night and was now just a few inches from my side. One of her hands had flopped over and rested on my hip.

  I saw Teta’s silhouette against the first orange rays of the day. “You still have an hour,” he said. “Might as well enjoy it while you have fine company.”

  I was too tired to come up with a passable retort.

  Chapter Twenty

  For the first time in as long as I could remember, I’d slept in and was still sawing wood at eight in the morning. The door was open and I could hear Teta and Selma outside talking. The smell of coffee got my ass in motion.

  “Look who decided to face the day,” Teta said. He sopped some runny eggs onto a biscuit and shoved it in his mouth.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “For what?” Bits of biscuit sprayed out of his mouth. “It’s not like we have a schedule. Besides, I figured the longer you slept, the more biscuits I get to eat. Selma doesn’t burn them like you do.”

  Selma handed me a tin plate loaded with eggs, two biscuits, beans and bacon. “I wouldn’t let him eat
all of it.” She gave Teta a playful snap with a small tea towel.

  After putting a considerable forkful into my maw, I said, “Good to see you’re in better spirits today.”

  She sighed. “In the light of day, what I saw last night seems less real. It had to have been a dream. If Hank really was here, why would he run away? And why would he look at me that way? It had to be my imagination running away with itself.”

  I didn’t want to dash her rationalization. She could be right, but the more time I spent in Hecla, the more I realized anything was possible. Hank running from her was simple. He ran from her once before with his brothers. Stumbling upon her in Hecla, of all places, wouldn’t change his mind. And if he was in Hecla, where was he staying? Maybe up in the mine. Maybe Teta’s tommyknockers were really Hank’s brothers and that cave-in was designed to get us to vamoose. They didn’t count on a couple of stubborn old cowpokes with nothing else to do.

  After I cleaned my plate, I said to Teta, “We should look into the mine again. I have a hunch I want to work out.”

  “Dios mío. I better have another biscuit if this is going to be my last meal.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Selma said.

  “That you will. I’m not going to leave you here alone. But you can’t go into the mine. You can wait for us outside, keep yourself busy doing women’s work.”

  I smirked and got a tea towel whipping. She was pretty good with it. I figured I’d have a couple of welts on my upper arm later. “Why can’t I go in the mine?”

  “Because it’s not safe. We shouldn’t be going in either, but we have a job to do.”

  She wrapped the remaining biscuits in another towel and put them in her saddlebag. When she bent down I couldn’t help but notice the ample swell in her jeans. Teta caught me looking and winked. It was hard not to admire a woman as sturdily put together as Selma.

  “I still think I should go in with you.”

  A thought occurred to me and I suddenly became curious. “Say, shouldn’t your poppa come looking for you? He didn’t seem like an unintelligent man. I’m sure he suspects where you’ve run off to. I’m surprised he isn’t here already. Maybe it is better you stay behind in case he comes here today.”