Trail of Golden Dreams (5 page)

“Then what?” Slim
Jim inquired.  His legs dangled below Del’s horse’s belly, and he leaned
back with his hands planted on the paint’s rump.

“Then tomorrow
morning, we’re returning for her.  She has no home left.  Her pa’s
dead.  That young thing won’t know where to go or what to do. She won’t
get far.  We’ll find her, and we’ll take what we came for tonight.”

Del spoke up
again.  “What if we don’t find her?  She’s a mighty good rider. 
She’s probably already miles down the road.”

“Then, we’ll track
her,” Kendall growled.  “She’s just an itty bitty girl. Do you really
think she can outsmart three grown men?”

Del and Garrett both gazed
at the fourth man, Harp, who was slung over his horse. Obviously the marshal
didn’t count on him being of much service the next morning.

“I grew up with that
girl,” Del informed Wade.  “She knows every inch of this forest and the
desert beyond.  She’s been on her own a long time.  Josie’s basically
raised herself.  She’s smarter than you might think.”

It was evident by
Kendall’s response that he’d heard enough excuses.  His voice was as thick
as grit.  “As I said, we’ll follow her prints.”

Del, apparently not
knowing when to shut up, dared to disagree further. “Are you sure we shouldn’t
keep moving tonight and try to flush her out?  I don’t know about you two,
but I ain’t that good of a tracker.”

“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. 
She 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.