Alvarado Gold (6 page)

“Yes. I would. It’s generous of you to save those back for Donnie.” I handed Clay the last roll of packaging tape. Donnie didn’t deserve a thing. He failed to join us, even though he obviously knew the rest of us were here. I started to feel a growing distrust for our “missing” cousin.

“I don’t know why he thinks we’re trying to take anything away from him; all he had to do was show up. We would have included him, too.” Clay left the room and carried the package out to the kitchen table.

I shrugged. “I don’t understand either. None of us have seen him since we were little kids. I just don’t get it.” I thought about all Donnie had given up not being with us.

“Now, if this house sells as quickly as Williams says it will, Donnie shouldn’t have a thing to gripe about.” Mel made a disgusted face. “It still burns me he had us tailed. My encounter with that thug of his surely wasn’t pleasant.”

I felt a hint of sadness flow over me. The past few days rekindled my subdued longing for family. We were all grown now. The last of the Barnes family were scattered across the country. Grandpa’s death brought us closer, if we could only stay that way. “I’m going to miss you guys.”

****

Clay came back in and settled into the recliner. “Okay, Addie. It’s story time.”

I pulled great-great grandmother’s account of the cattle drive out of the tortoiseshell box and read the final installments. The journal explained the long trip into the valley cradled by the Sierra Nevadas and the Coastal Range in California. Grandma Annie wanted to purchase the valley, which runs the length of the center of the state encompassing eight counties, but Grandpa Harold urged her on to San Francisco. There at R. Matteucci & Company the two brooches were purchased, her prize, he told her, for following him all those miles and back again. Then they made the final leg of their journey home, the trip around the horn from San Francisco to Texas. That alone would have been a feat it itself. I read the final lines:

We found the ranch much as we’d left it. We endured the trip. It was profitable for Harold, but it is good to be back home where we belong. The Texas sun has baked the land dry, and the cattle bellow for water. I long for the cool, damp weather of Seattle.

“That’s it. What an adventure.” I let out a long, slow sigh. “She actually mentions buying the brooches. Mel, did you catch that?”

“Yeah.” Mel yawned and stretched. “We need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be busy. Especially, if we’re going to Mr. Darrow’s before we leave.”

Susan’s quiet voice came from the corner. “Are we coming back?”

“I’m in.” Clay stood up next to Mel.

“Me, too.” I joined them.

Susan walked over and we all put our right hands together like athletes before a game. Clay raised our hands over our heads and we all echoed, “For the Gold!”

And in my heart, I knew it meant more. I marveled at the completeness I felt. I’d reconnected with part of me that I’d lost, or not exactly lost but had been taken away from me. I loved my mother as I am sure my cousins loved their parents but whatever secret they kept had robbed their children of knowing their family.

The next morning before we headed for the airport, we stopped off at the lawyer’s office. Clay gave him the gun and sword while Mel left him instructions on how to get in touch with Mr. Williams. The money from the sale of the house would be evenly distributed by Mr. Darrow.

“Mr. Darrow, could you give this to your friend Mr. Wright?” I crossed the room and stood in front of him. “It belongs to him and I must have picked it up with my papers.”

As he reached out for the document, I remembered that same large hand resting on the top of the tortoiseshell box only a week ago. It had revealed one of the secrets of our family, but with it, more questions were created. “What is it?” he asked.

“It looks like a list of churches.”

David Darrow smiled. “Oh, yes. His project.” The answer created another question in my mind that I didn’t want to deal with at the moment. I didn’t pursue it. “And, I have something for you, Ms. Brown.” He handed me a long, thin legal envelope. I turned it over in my hand, but nothing about it looked familiar. Since my own name glared back at me neatly typewritten on the ivory paper, there was no clue as to who sent it.

“Who is this from?” I questioned him.

“Donnie left it for you.”

I shot Mel a long look. “Donnie? Was he here?”

“Yes. He came the day after the will was read. The day I called Mel and told her Donnie didn’t want you to find him.” Mr. Darrow’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something I should know?”

Mel joined me at the corner of his desk. “Maybe there is something you should tell us, Mr. Darrow. Why did Donnie have a private eye on us?”

“I wasn’t aware of an investigator.” David Darrow cleared his throat. “Donnie’s resentful. He’s afraid you four will take something away from him. I don’t know what but he isn’t happy.”

Resisting the urge to throw the envelope and its contents into Darrow’s faux walnut trash can, I ripped it open. The contents brought out ire in me I didn’t know existed.

“He’s brought it upon himself, then. We’ve been looking for him for years and evidently he knew it. I really don’t care what his problem is and you can tell him that. He’s getting his share of the money from the house. We brought him some of Grandfather’s things. If he thinks he was left out, then he should have shown up and helped.” I could feel the flame in my cheeks and decided I’d keep my mouth shut before I said something I’d regret.

“Ms. Brown, I ...”

I waved my hand in front of Darrow. I’d heard enough. “We have flights to catch. We need to leave. If Donnie wants to talk with us, he knows where we are.”

We drove to the Houston airport in silence. The others had never seen me blow my stack before; I’ll admit not a pretty sight.

Clay took the ticket from the dispensing machine and hunted for a parking place in the day lot. He carefully eyed me and asked, “Mind sharing that letter with the rest of us?”

“Oh. No. Not at all. I got so mad I wasn’t thinking; the contents are important to you guys, too.” I realized the letter was still tightly gripped in my right hand I opened it and began:

Addie,

I want you to leave me alone. You and Clayton’s bunch stay away from Barnesville. I know you’re aware of the gold and I also know you have no claim to it. My father left the key with me and I intend to find it. It’s rightfully mine. The family has been looking for the last 120 years. Two of our great uncles nearly killed each other over it. Dad and Uncle Clayton argued, too. When they went down there, Dad wanted to keep looking but Clayton gave up. As far as I’m concerned he gave up his rights, too. Stay away. I’m warning you.

DJB

“Am I missing something here?” I shook my head. “We barely knew about the gold until this past week. Why is Donnie so upset?”

“We’re going to find out eventually.” Mel pulled her bags out of the back of Clay’s van and talked between distributing our luggage. “When are we coming back?”

“Is Labor Day weekend good for everyone?” I asked.

Susan shifted from one foot to another. “Do you think we should come sooner?” I’d noticed any confrontation made her nervous. “Maybe we should try to find the gold before Donnie.”

“My bet is he isn’t going to find it without us. We’ll give him a head start. Everyone plan to meet back here the first weekend in September.” I rummaged around in my purse and found my ticket for San Jose. Susan and I would go together as far as Sacramento. We all hugged each other good-bye. Mel headed off to another terminal for her flight to Virginia, Clay struck out for Arizona and Susan and I boarded a flight to California.

It felt to me as if the four of us were being scattered by the wind, blown like so much dust. Even though I knew we’d all be brought together at least once more at the end of the summer in Barnesville, I wanted to hold on to what we’d found in each other. I needed to believe the fragility of my newly acquired family would become strong and the wounds would heal. What our parent’s had failed to hold together, possibly the four of us could.
To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.

Chapter Seven

Susan shook me awake. A nonsensical dream crept through the shadowy corners of my brain. Donnie chased me through a graveyard as I aimlessly ran and stumbled across the Texas prairie, the tortoiseshell box clamped in my arms. I shook off sleep, glad to be free of the irritating nightmare and what it either meant or foretold.

“We’re landing; buckle up.”

“Are we in Sacramento already?” I yawned. “I’m glad you woke me. I had a crazy dream about Donnie.”

“Are you worried about him, Addie?”

“Not really. I just can’t piece everything together. Maybe when I look through some of the paperwork and old letters I sent home this will all make more sense.”
Maybe I can figure out what Gary Wright’s part is.

The overhead speaker crackled and the flight attendant repeated his canned speech, “Welcome to Sacramento, California, temperature 85 degrees. For those passengers flying on to San Jose, the flight resumes in twenty-five minutes.”

“This is it, Susan. I guess I’ll see you in September.” I smiled up at her as she took a box from the overhead compartment. “One day you need to tell me why you were so infatuated with the dress.”

“Brad and I have a wedding anniversary soon. I thought I’d wear it then.” Susan smiled shyly. “We’re renewing our vows.”

“No kidding. I’d better be invited. Also, I want to hear all about it. I’ll call you next week.”

She turned and waved. As she reached the doors, her eyes shone.

After the short hop to San Jose, I felt the wheels skid on the tarmac. The pilot taxied to a stop. As I daydreamed, lost, deep in thought, I knew Brad would meet Susan at the airport and, three thousand miles away, Richard retrieved Mel. I felt a pang of envy. There wouldn’t be anyone who waited for me, not even a best friend. I’d pick up Mollie on my way home at the kennel I’d sentenced her to in my absence. As close to me as I’d let anyone or anything be, I missed the shaggy mutt.

The old gray Ford, covered with two weeks of dust, looked really good when I spotted it in the south parking lot, number K-14. Not that I’d thought anyone would steal a twelve-year-old car, but it comforted me to see it stayed where I’d left it.

I drove the six blocks to the kennel with the window down but with no radio blaring, which was my usual style. I needed to think. I didn’t need any distraction and the breeze would clear my head. I had a lot to mull over about the trip back to Texas. And for some gnawing reason in the back of my brain, I knew I’d find something else in one of those boxes of papers I’d sent home. I always had a sixth sense about things, bells going off, little “ah oh” voices and second hunches.

Jack, my ex-boss, felt my hunches kept me adept at restoration. I always knew what kind of chemicals to use on what papers and how to preserve things just exactly right. I’d let my intuition carry me more than once through a sticky situation. I was going to have to use that gut feeling to get me through the rest of the summer, too.

When she saw me, Mollie nearly knocked me over while she delivered slobbery, dog breath kisses. She is a short, stocky dog the vet termed “German Shepherd and who knows what else.” Except for the pointed nose, she didn’t look much like a German Shepherd. Her tail curled, longish fur split down the middle of her back and her legs were short and squatty. The fact she was built like an anchor helped me lose my footing more than once when she was glad to see me. Another trait of hers, a bird dog point came in useful when the jays landed on the patio. So “who knows” correctly described her.

Mollie jumped into the shotgun seat, her usual place. We were off to the post office to retrieve my boxes. I went through the drive-up at a fast-food place on the way and Mollie and I ate a combo meal. She gobbled the burger. I ate the fries and drank the cola. The post office wasn’t busy but I didn’t want to leave Mollie in the car. I took her as far as the door and tied her leash around a post. I could see her from the counter and knew she wanted to keep an eye on me, too. I loaded the boxes in the back seat; they looked like so much more than I’d originally sent. I had my work cut out for me.

When we turned the corner to the condo, Mollie started barking. Guilt crept into the corners of my mind, knowing she wasn’t going to be too happy with me come September when I had to leave her again.

It felt good to be back. I turned the key in the front door lock and looked around. The condo was just as I’d left it. No cleaning fairies had visited and my little jungle of houseplants, left in the kitchen sink in their own life giving pool of tap water, had survived. A miracle considering my less than green thumb. Glancing over at the blinking light on my answering machine, I groaned to Mollie, “Twenty messages.” She looked up, but her only care was her empty food dish. I scratched her shaggy head and dutifully filled the empty bowl with dry dog food. “We’ll have something better later,” I promised.

I lugged in my suitcase, the three large boxes from the post office and my leftover fries. Exhausted, I’d put up all my junk tomorrow. Grabbing a pencil, I listened to my messages. Most of the phone numbers were easily recognizable including Eric, Mel, Eric, and the VP from Docurestore. I wondered what my old boss wanted but punched on through all the phone numbers–only interested, for now, in the ones I couldn’t automatically identify. There were five numbers I didn’t know, all trying to sell me something which I deleted. Then the last number, a call that morning was from a Houston prefix. Almost ignoring it and figuring Mr. Darrow wanted something, I finally decided to listen. To my chagrin, I was not totally displeased to hear Gary Wright’s deep, baritone voice come from the speaker. “Call me. I’ve some interesting information for you. Oh…thanks for my church list.” What could he possibly want now? Why did he have that list of churches and why…why did he bother me so?