"It's okay to let down, Ramona. I understand."
"I know. Intellectually, I realize it's okay. But my heritage teaches me to be strong, especially at times like this."
"You are being strong, Ramona. Just returning here shows your strength."
Ramona picked up a small stick and fiddled nervously with it. "I don't feel very strong. I'm feeling pretty guilty right now."
"Guilty? I don't understand."
"Guilty because I pushed him toward this."
"Pushed? You mean encouraged?"
"Yes, I guess." Ramona nodded and gentle tears formed in her dark eyes. "When I was a professor at a junior college in Sierra Vista I met Sharkey. He was a professor at the University of Arizona. But he hated teaching because he felt it was too confining. He was a man of action, and he had a dream. He'd always wanted to find gold. I encouraged him to quit his regular job and pursue his dream. But that was selfish. I thought if he could find this damn gold he'd been after all his life, he'd be willing to settle down. With me."
Tory slid her arm around Ramona's shoulders and murmured in a gentle tone, "You can't blame yourself for what happened to Sharkey."
"I'm trying not to, but it's hard when I think of what happened to him—"
"Ramona," Tory said firmly, "surely you realize that Sharkey Carsen had been pursuing that damned gold for years, long before he met you. When he died, he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, and it wasn't your fault at all." Tory couldn't believe what she was saying. She was actually absolving Ramona of guilt for Sharkey's death!
But how could this distraught, heartbroken woman have had anything to do with his death? She obviously loved him.
A wicked flash of lightning zigzagged to the ground, and thunder exploded from the dark clouds. They had to get back soon or be exposed to the viciousness and danger of the storm.
Tory squeezed Ramona's shoulder. "We'd better go if we don't want to get drenched."
Ramona nodded distractedly, as if unaware of the pending storm. She stood up. "Tory, thanks. I know this must be difficult for you, too."
"I can see how much you loved my father."
"I can't deny my love for him. But I must admit, I really feel strange telling you these things, Tory. I almost want to apologize, knowing what he did to you and your mother."
"Don't apologize. How can love be bad for anyone? I'm glad"—Tory paused wistfully, then continued firmly—"yes, I'm glad he had such a love as you in his life."
"I hope we can be friends. I think Sharkey has a very special daughter," Ramona said softly with tears still in her voice.
Thunder crackled loudly overhead again, and the two women grasped hands and ran back to the makeshift tent the men had constructed just as huge raindrops started to fall.
Tory concluded privately that Sharkey had been darned lucky to have had a woman like Ramona.
"You two okay?" Dodge asked, pulling them beneath the meager shelter and wrapping his arm around Ramona.
She lifted her proud head and responded with new-found courage, "I'm all right, Dodge. Tory and I are ready to go on, as soon as the storm's over."
Dodge looked at Tory curiously. She just smiled and nodded.
After the storm, the mules carried the sun seekers farther along the trail. It was almost dusk when Yazzie stopped to consult with Ramona. "Is the hidden springs somewhere near here?"
Ramona checked the small notebook she carried and pointed. "That way."
"You lead," Yazzie directed. "I don't know about these pictures on rocks where the water runs underground."
Following behind Ramona, the group climbed higher, rounded a bend, and came to a halt near a huge field of weathered boulders. Some were short and looked like stocky stone sentinels; other were large enough to hide men and horses. The place conjured images of renegade Apaches, hiding from the U.S. Army, making their lives in the wilderness.
"There's the overhang where the pictographs are," Ramona announced excitedly.
"I don't see any pictures," Rex commented sourly, dismounting with a loud groan. "Dios mio, I hope we're through for the day."
"This should be a good place to stop. It's where we're supposed to find the skull and the other half of the map," Dodge said. "But where's the spring?"
Ramona moved confidently toward the giant boulders. "The pictographs are hidden. You have to lie on your back and scoot under here in order to see them. And while you're there, you can hear the spring rushing. Underground." She proceeded to show them how to maneuver under the stone shelf and listen for the hidden water.
Tory watched curiously as Dodge, Yazzie, and finally Rex followed Ramona's lead and scooted under the rock. When Tory's turn came, she went eagerly, intrigued by the ancient drawings that still remained visible and the sounds of rushing waters beneath her body.
She emerged with blue eyes bright and a rush of questions. "Why, the pictures are in color!" she exclaimed, amazed. "How has the paint managed to remain so long? And why are they located here? Did the Indians lie on their backs to draw them? And why is the spring underground?"
Ramona laughed at Tory's eagerness. "I wish all my students had your enthusiasm, Tory. The ancient ones learned to use earth colors, made from clay or dirt or certain plants. And they're permanent, if not damaged or washed away by weather. These were protected by the ledge, so they remained for us to enjoy."
"They're absolutely remarkable! I can recognize bighorn sheep, deer, and lizards."
"This stream once flowed above ground," Ramona went on to explain. "The rock overhang formed a kind of cave. So the ancient artists probably stood upright and drew on the walls. In the years since, the stream went underground and the earth shifted and filled in the vacant area. Now it's almost to the top of the cave walls, so we have to lie down to see inside."
"It's remarkable. How did you find it?"
Ramona smiled and shrugged. "Sharkey and I were digging for gold in this area."
"Speaking of Sharkey," Rex said briskly, glancing around. "Isn't this the area where he hid the map? Under some skull?"
"Yep," Dodge said, pushing his Stetson back and squinting his eyes around the area. "Why don't we spread out and see if we can find it before dark?"
"While you do that," Yazzie said, "I'll make camp. I saw a small stream back at that stand of trees."
"Agreed," Dodge nodded. "I think we've all ridden our limit for today."
"I'll second that motion!" Rex agreed, rubbing his rear.
They spread out, searching over rocks and around trees for the acclaimed skull but found nothing. When Yazzie called that supper was ready, they came together wearily. At this point, everyone showed some disappointment, even doubt.
In desperation, they studied their half of the map again to make sure they were in the right area. Four heads, not including Yazzie, hovered over the map, checking the locations and directions.
"I know this is the right place," Ramona said with conviction. "I'm almost positive. Sharkey and I were here on several occasions. We discussed the springs and whether we should try to dig it out."
"According to Sharkey's map, we're in the correct location. Tomorrow we'll have all day of complete light to search. I'm sure we'll find it," Dodge said confidently.
Yazzie eyed them cautiously but didn't join in the search. He just lighted another of those wolf-breath cigars and walked away from the camp settlement.
Tory watched him, filled with curiosity and her own personal suspicions. She was tempted to follow him when Rex and Dodge ambled in another direction, intent in conversation. So whom should she follow? Yazzie, the loner, who was strange and secretive? Or Dodge and Rex, Sharkey's former partners who might benefit from his death?
While Tory was considering her options, Ramona approached her. "Let's put our sleeping bags next to the fire for sleeping tonight. It'll be warmer and keep the wild beasties away."
"Don't even tease about that." Tory shivered involuntarily and peered into the darkness surrounding them. "My im
agination is already going wild!"
"Don't worry, Tory. The fire will be our best protection."
As she made her bed Tory couldn't help wondering if her suspicions about Sharkey's mysterious death were well-founded. And, of course, she couldn't stop worrying that the one responsible for Sharkey's death was in this intimate little gathering of sun seekers. Nothing had actually happened to confirm her suspicions. Perhaps she had jumped to conclusions. It was just a feeling . . .
"Ramona," Tory said, smoothing out her sleeping bag, "is it—is it possible that my father was killed? That his death wasn't an accident?"
Ramona paused and gave Tory a deep, serious look. "Not only is it possible, but I suspect that it's true."
Tory gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth. To have her worst fears confirmed by Ramona was shocking. She expected—wanted—Ramona to dispel her suspicions.
"I've never told anyone that, Tory. I'm sorry if I upset you. But no one ever asked me outright, either. Maybe no one ever suspected it. Or they wanted to deny it. But, sure, I think it's possible."
"Do you think we could be in danger, too?" Tory held her breath, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Ramona sat cross-legged on her spread-out sleeping bag. "It's possible. If Sharkey were killed, his killer is still out there."
"And the gold is still out there."
Ramona lowered her voice. "I do believe Sharkey discovered a long-lost treasure in these mountains. It's something men have coveted for years, something they've lost their lives over. Some searched but went away disillusioned. Others ran out of money or energy and had to stop looking. But they all believed it's still here. There's a grand mystique to these mountains, from the miners' tales to the Indians' lore."
The two women sat cross-legged on the bedrolls, facing each other, whispering intently.
"And you believe Sharkey found the gold?"
Ramona nodded solemnly. "Yes, I do. He acted a little funny, became very quiet about his mountain treks in the last few weeks before he died. Maybe he knew about it then but didn't want to say."
"Why wouldn't he tell you his exciting news?"
"Perhaps because he wanted to protect me. If I knew, then I, too, would be in danger."
"So he didn't tell you anything?"
"No, and I didn't see him as often as usual. I think now that he was preparing the maps and getting ready ... in case anything happened to him."
"Then you think he knew he was in danger?"
Ramona shrugged. "Anyone who has a secret like that knows there's always danger from someone who wants what you have. Or what you know."
"Do you think we're in danger, then? Because of the map?"
"Maybe."
"From whom?"
"I don't know."
"Someone . . . here?"
Ramona laughed quietly. "Maybe someone lurking behind yonder tree."
"I meant, someone in our group?"
"In this group? Hell, no! These people were Sharkey's friends. And you, of course. But you're his daughter, Tory." Ramona fluffed up her pillow and lay back on it.
"Yes, of course," Tory mumbled thoughtfully. "Ramona, why would Sharkey send us on this wild-goose chase if he knew it would be dangerous for us?"
"First, it isn't a wild-goose chase. He wouldn't do that to us. Second, he trusted this group of people implicitly. Third, I'm sure he felt that Dodge could take care of anything that came up. And so do I. Go to bed, Tory. As long as Dodge is around, he'll keep the claim jumpers away." Ramona snuggled down between the folds of her sleeping bag and turned on her side, indicating she had finished talking for the night.
"Good night, Ramona." Tory wandered around the camp, putting a couple of fresh logs on the fire, studying the flames and what Ramona had said. About danger. About Sharkey. About his friends that were gathered there. She heard Dodge and Rex talking and ambled toward where they sat on the far edge of the clearing, near the rock overhang and hidden stream.
When she reached them, Rex made an excuse and quickly left.
"I didn't intend to interrupt," she said.
"No problem. I'm beat. Not meant for riding on an ass all day."
"Is it obvious?" she mused to Dodge.
"These people aren't blind."
"I'm a jerk, Dodge. A citified, paranoid jerk. I'm sorry about accusing your friends. I'm sorry that I made them look like suspects. I realize now that you are all Sharkey's friends and would never do anything to hurt him, or each other."
"Tory," Dodge said quietly, "come here."
She moved beside him in the darkness. "I should never have said anything about suspicions."
"Tory . . . hush." One of his long arms wrapped around her shoulder and he led her farther away from the campsite. "You don't have to apologize. I can understand your concern."
"But, Dodge, I was out of line."
"No, not really. Actually, you were quite perceptive to have doubts about his death. Maybe you're right, after all."
"What?"
"This is just between us, you understand."
She nodded anxiously in the darkness.
"After seeing the location of Sharkey's so-called accident, I'm beginning to have suspicions of my own."
"Why, Dodge?"
"Well, according to Yazzie and Ramona, Sharkey's body was found in a spot that I think was too far away for anyone to have fallen naturally. Sharkey's body should have been more directly beneath where we stood, unless he hit a rock and bounced. When I pointed that out to Yazzie, he changed his story. Said that's where Sharkey was actually found, directly below us."
"What are you saying?" She breathed shallowly, fear creeping like a knot into her throat.
Dodge stopped walking and put his hand over hers. "I think Sharkey was pushed or dragged to the location where he was found. Perhaps he was even killed somewhere else and brought to the rock ledge."
"Oh, my God, Dodge!"
"I want to talk to Ramona about it. She's the only other eyewitness to the location of the body. But she has been in no shape to be questioned about it. Like she's trying to forget any details that might be useful."
"I think you should wait a little while, Dodge. She was quite upset when we went by that cliff today."
"I realize that, but we're talking about something extremely serious here, Tory."
"Oh, my God, and here we are, out here away from police protection and—"
Dodge's arms encased her in the darkness. "We'll be all right."
"I'm scared, Dodge."
"Don't be." He lifted her chin and whispered, "I'll take care of you, Tory." Then, tenderly, his lips closed over hers.
With him close and holding her in his arms, Tory immediately felt safer. The kiss deepened and the secure swirl of Dodge surrounded her. His strength and warmth reached out to her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly to her. Here was a man to trust, a man who tempted her like none other.
At that moment, the quiet stillness was penetrated by the chilling sound of a scream, a resounding wail that echoed off the boulders and intruded into their safe harbor.
"What th—"
"Was that Ramona?" Tory had never heard such a bloodcurdling yell. She bolted from Dodge's embrace and rushed back toward camp. Nothing, it seemed, was safe and secure. Not even Dodge's arms.
CHAPTER NINE
"Tory, wait! It's just—" Dodge lunged for her, but she slipped through his fingers. One minute he was holding her, the next she was gone like a startled doe. Resigned, he raced after her.
"Ramona?" she called as she reached the small gathering huddled around the campfire. She stared at the fire-lit circle, half expecting the three to be embroiled in some fracas. "Ramona, are you all right?"
"Of course." She looked up, her smiling face reflecting softly golden from the flickering flames.
"What was that horrible noise?" Tory gasped between heaving breaths. "I thought it was you!"
"It was just a mountain lion," Ramona said easily.
"A mountain lion?"
"Don't worry, Tory," Ramona said from her seat on top of her sleeping bag. "The fire and commotion will keep it away from our camp. Anyway, I'm sure Dodge and Yazzie have guns."
"No—" Tory caught herself before blurting that Dodge's gun had been stolen. Then, in a niggling corner of her mind, it occurred to her that he might have bought another. She'd ask him about it later.
"Have a seat, you two," Rex offered with a sweep of his hand. "That is, if you don't mind our humble company. And Yazzie can finish his tale."
Tory glanced at the campfire scene and realized that, indeed, Rex and Ramona were being entertained. Soft-spoken, closemouthed Yazzie was the storyteller. Sighing with relief, she slumped down on a log and Dodge joined her.
Yazzie continued, picking up where he had stopped when interrupted. "So next time that cat screamed, I grabbed my gun and shot into the air. I didn't even aim, only meant to scare her away. But I was a damned lucky cuss. She was up in a tree and fell right down into our campsite, shot through the heart. So we skinned her right there on the spot—didn't even have to leave camp. And her hide still warms my bed at night."
Tory shivered at the grisly tale, prompting Dodge to put another log on the fire. He brought them an Indian blanket and draped it around their shoulders. She drew closer to the warmth Dodge provided.
"That's some story, Yazzie," Rex commented, unconsciously peering above them for spreading branches that could harbor some wild creature.
"Would a mountain lion really raid a camp, Yazzie?" Tory asked, fearful of his answer. Yet she had to know about this potential danger.
"Sure. If it's hungry enough, it'll come looking for food, even them dang mules." Yazzie paused to light another cigar and puffed thoughtfully. "But it'd have to be dang-near starving."
"We don't have to worry about that cat coming around us tonight," Dodge advised in a teasing tone. "As long as Yazzie keeps smoking that foul-smelling tobacco, nothing will come near enough to bother us!"
Everyone chuckled and Yazzie took the teasing in stride. "Reminds me of the pipe-smoking miner from out Denver-way. There were four of them who came down here to the Dragoons a few years back, searching for gold. The leader was a big man, had one of them curving pipes clamped in his teeth all the time, whether he was smoking it or not. Fact is, I believe they were looking for this very town of Pyramid that you folks are after. These fellows heard that there used to be a gold- rush town that was left high and dry, and they wanted to find it again. And get that gold."
Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) Page 10