If everything else failed, I could use the web to locate the library and anything else I needed. “Is there perhaps Internet connections?”
“Of course.” He nodded to the brightly colored tri-fold leaflet tucked into the side pocket of my tapestry bag. “It’s in the brochure.” He returned coolly.
Hoping one of the other employees wasn’t so rigid, I turned around to see a smiling face. The smile was accompanied by his gold plated nametag, “Jeff.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Brown. My name is Jeffrey Barton. I’m the bell captain. Shall we find your room?”
Relieved by his warm ways and smile, I continued, “I have a few questions about the county library.”
“Surely you didn’t come all this way to read a book. Your baggage tag is marked California.” He escorted me to the elevator and continued his welcoming banter.
“No. I need to find out some information on local history.”
“The central library is only about ten miles from here. I spend a lot of evenings there myself. I’m a student at the university. Let me make you a quick map. It is just off the 356. It won’t be any trouble at all to find. Just remember not to get on the loop. I guess you’re comfortable with California freeway driving, Dallas isn’t much different”
“No. Not really. I do appreciate the help. I was afraid everyone here was going to be as stiff as the guy at the counter.”
“Oh, Adams isn’t so bad once you get used to him. He’s English and reminds us of it daily. He can be a regular guy when he’s not behind the front desk.
I slipped Jeff a tip and nestled into the overstuffed chair in front of the window, cozy and comfortable. I felt strangely at home. This could be my return to the place where my family had begun. Or at least had made a name for themselves. They’d been in Georgia and England before they called Texas home. It was where they’d planted roots and grown. My condo in San Jose was like a terra cotta pot, a temporary holding vessel. Maybe I needed to plant some real roots somewhere, too. I could have sat there for hours but I reminded myself, I had work to do.
****
I found the library as easily as Jeff suggested. I asked about local history and Barnesville only to be returned blank stares. Everyone at the reference desk told me they’d lived in the area most of their lives and hadn’t heard of the place.
“From what I’ve found out on my own, it is near County Road 208. On Chamber’s Creek?” I gave them what little information I’d received from the numerous phone calls I’d made but they couldn’t find anything.
“Chambers Creek is in Johnson County. Have you tried the Cleburne Library?” The reference librarian tried to be of assistance.
“I made a few phone calls, but no one seems to know what I’m talking about. Is there a history room? Anything like that?”
A young, thin blonde came from behind one of the stacks. “Barnesville? I helped someone with a request for that yesterday. Were you two together?”
I felt a knot develop in my stomach and the gooseflesh rose on the nape of my neck. Donnie. He was here. I managed to ask her, “Did you find anything?”
“Actually, we did. It took me quite a while to find the information, but he was persistent. You’re not together then?”
“No.” I hesitated to ask. “Did you get his name?”
“I’m sorry. He was in a hurry. Unless we’re looking up further information and the patron has to return, we don’t usually ask their names.” She motioned for me to follow her through the stacks of reference material. “Here it is. It’s in an old local history book on several of the towns in Johnson County and how they were founded. There is a nice chapter on Barnesville. Let me get it for you.” The young woman handed me the book which I began to page through. “You know, I think there’s a presentation by a Native American storyteller this afternoon downstairs in the children’s room. He’s a Jumano Chief. He’s from Johnson County, maybe he can help you, too.”
The book by Viola Block interested me. “The History of Johnson County and Surrounding Area” written in 1970 answered several questions about the family. One entire page was devoted to the cattle drive. Our great-great-great-grandfather, John, the first postmaster, had given several acres of his land for the cemetery. I asked the clerk to make copies of the pages for me, paid her, and made my way down the old, highly polished, mahogany staircase. The children’s room was near the entrance. I found it easily and sat in one of the small chairs in the back of the room as the chief told his story.
Attired in his full native dress, the old man sat talking to the children. His long black hair, threaded with silver, lay in a single braid down his back. His brown, craggy face broadened into a wide smile as he talked.
The chief vibrantly told the story of a young hunter who married a female buffalo in the form of a woman. I’d become familiar with the shape-shifting he spoke of when I studied Egyptology and hieroglyphics.
The old man continued with his story, “When his people rejected her, she returned to the buffalo with their son. The young hunter followed, but needed to pass many tests to become a buffalo. In a cave just south of Cleburne he honed his skills.” He winked at the children seated at his feet.
One pudgy, eight-year-old boy shot up his hand and asked where the cave was located.
“The actual location of the cave is near a cemetery in Barnesville. The town is no longer there. Once the railroad came to Texas, the town was bypassed.”
I’d been looking over the copied pages and wasn’t listening to the chief until he mentioned Barnesville. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. The cave Gary told me about. The old chief knew about the cave.
After the children made their way out of the area, I approached the elderly gentleman. “I’m interested in your story and the land surrounding the cave. Do you know where it is?”
“It is east of Cleburne, about twelve miles. Are you planning to go there?” A look of concern clouded his deep, brown eyes. “It isn’t safe.”
“I’m a descendant of the founders. I just want to look around, that’s all,” I hedged.
A warm smile covered his face. “You’re a Barnes?”
“My mother was.” I waited anxiously to hear what he had to say. “Do you know my family?”
“Not directly. My ancestors knew the three Barnes brothers, the founders of the town. My great-grandfather, Running Bear, was close to the one named John.”
“I’m a direct descendant of John. He had wonderful plans for the town, but died before they could all be laid out.”
“Yes. He’s buried near the cave.” He reached for my arm and drew me close. “Be careful.” Again he cautioned me, “It isn’t safe.”
I wanted to ask him what he knew. Why wasn’t it safe? Had he talked to Donnie? But a younger man came to escort the elderly man to a waiting car.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Grandfather is old. He must go now.” The young man dressed in stylish clothes, wore his hair in a similar braid as that of the old man.
‘Where can I find you?” I didn’t want to let the opportunity get away. “Can I talk to him again?”
“He’ll be here tomorrow. Come back at three.”
I planned to.
Chapter Twenty
I made my way back to the hotel knowing I wasn’t the only one in Dallas seeking our past. I looked for Donnie around every corner, at each bend in the road. If I did see him, I wouldn’t recognize him. I still couldn’t understand why he was so obsessed. Why did he think the gold belonged only to him? Why wouldn’t he come to Grandpa’s funeral?
As I walked into the lobby, my shoes struck the tile floor, a hollow, unnerving sound. Adams wasn’t at his post, which left me to make my own dinner reservations. After the arrangements were made, I ordered a ginger ale and slipped into a booth near the edge of the pond. Mesmerized by the butterfly fin Koi’s circular passes and the water as it splashed over the lava rocks, I mentally reviewed what had happened in the last few months–the reconnection with my family, the search
for the gold, Donnie’s strange behavior and, finally, Gary. He was never far from my thoughts but I pushed him back into the little corner in my brain where I kept my deepest memories and heartbreak. Thoughts I’d never be able to share with anyone and a gnawing secret that was beginning to eat a hole in my facade. Eventually, I was going to have to deal with it but I pushed the thought back down and tired to ignore it. I would pull my brief romance with Gary out and examine it one day when the hurt wasn’t so fresh.
It was the middle of the afternoon and one lone customer, a man, sat on one of the stools. Something about him was oddly familiar. When I recognized him as the private eye who had argued with Mel at Neiman Marcus, I turned in my booth so he couldn’t see me. I slid around toward the inside of the burgundy, leather oval to see if anyone joined him. Was it just a coincidence or did Donnie know I was here? If he showed up, he’d be between me and the door.
Half an hour later the man handed the cashier a ten-dollar bill and left. I waited another few minutes, and then approached the bar. “Is he staying at the hotel?”
“No, Miss. I don’t think so. At least he paid cash, didn’t put it on his tab.” As he continued to polish the glasses, he gazed in my direction. “Were you looking for him?”
“I just thought he looked familiar. Thanks.” Again, I entered the lobby. My steps quickened as I made my way to the elevator. Only when I reached my room and had the doors tightly locked behind me did I breathe a sigh of relief, sure Donnie’s accomplice never saw me.
After my encounter, I decided to stay out of the gym and spa. I spent the rest of the day on the Internet and made phone calls to Cleburne. I’d gotten lucky. I found the county records office had all the land deeds pertaining to the Barnes family settling in Texas. They would be waiting for me when we arrived on Friday. At least no one had mentioned anyone else who’d made inquires. Maybe Donnie just wanted me to pave the way and make it easier for him. He had the key to the chest, though. If he arrived before we did, then he’d find the answers first. I still felt he had no clue where to look.
Around four my stomach reminded me I had dinner reservations. I showered and dressed in a casual pantsuit, brushed my long hair into a quick bun and fastened it with a clip. With a hint of blush and a touch of lip gloss, I considered myself presentable.
I entered the restaurant and looked around the crowded room to see if anyone appeared suspicious. I asked for a table in the back so I wasn’t sitting in the open, alone. I began to relax. Seated by himself, a dark figure on the other side of the room watched me. He was too old to be Donnie. I didn’t feel any danger, but he continued his penetrating stare. In quick, hidden glances, I tried to memorize his features.
I returned to my room for the rest of the evening. I didn’t intend to do any rambling by myself; I’d save that for Mel’s arrival. She’d be there by ten and Lord knows there’s safety in numbers. I pulled on my sweats and ordered a movie when what sounded like a fist made a loud thump against the door. The noise jolted me up off the couch and I bolted toward the foyer to latch the chain. As I reached the entrance, a note shot through the threshold.
I bent down and retrieved the envelope. My hands shook as I pried open the seal and unfolded the paper. A crudely printed note, written on hotel stationery read, You don’t take no for an answer, do you, Addie? I know why you’re here. Go home before you get hurt.
Chapter Twenty-One
I didn’t enjoy the movie I’d rented. I’d seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, my favorite, at least twenty times. I couldn’t get interested and sleep became a stranger.
I finally drifted off around two and dreamt of Donnie, the old chief and a buffalo, who instead of turning into a lovely maiden, turned into one of Donnie’s henchmen. At six, the phone rang and any hope of sleep vanished.
Mel bubbled cheerfully into the phone, “Morning!”
“You can’t be here already.” I sat up on the couch and looked at the television screen where a shapely blond performed stomach crunches during an infomercial. “It’s too early.”
“I’m just getting ready to catch the red-eye. I thought you’d be up and preparing to tackle the day looking for records or something.”
“I’m going to wait for you. I had a bad night which I’ll explain when you get here.” I wiped my eyes, trying to finish waking up. “Are you still taking the shuttle?”
“Yeah, what happened?”
“A lot. Donnie’s here somewhere. Or he’s been here. But I do want to go back to the library. Do you think your flight will be on schedule?”
“As on schedule as they get. I gotta go; we’re boarding.”
I called room service and ordered breakfast. When I thought the library would be open, I’d call and see when the chief would be talking to the children. Until then I couldn’t do much but stay put.
I clicked on the morning news to check the forecast. It could still be pretty hot in early September or there could be thunderstorms. I didn’t want either.
The entire state of Texas was displayed behind the forecaster. As he pointed near where I thought Barnesville should be, a smiling sun predicted good weather. The concept of forecasting the weather fascinated me. I compared it to my own analytical findings. At least I had something concrete to look at, not swirling masses of clouds and wind currents.
I walked over to the desk and picked up a piece of hotel stationery. I needed to make a timeline, one that mapped out the family. We did this often at Docurestore when we tried to pinpoint the date of a document.
I would start in 1969, the year of Donnie’s birth. Then my birth year, 1976. The first time I remember seeing him was the summer every relative arrived at Mom and Dad’s in 1984. They came in two to three week intervals all summer until Mom had seen all her brothers, their kids, and the last of her uncles, who were living. It turned into a weird summer, like everyone knew this was it, one final time.
It turned out to be the last time some of them saw each other. I was eight which meant Mel was seven and Susan must have been about three. Mel and I played dress up and dolls and who knows what until the wee hours of the morning.
Donnie would have been fifteen the one and only time I ever saw him. His folks died within the next two years and he just disappeared from our lives. What had happened that summer? Why did everyone come to visit my folks and all separately? Was that around the time Uncle Clay and Uncle Joseph went to look for the gold? Grandpa didn’t join us that summer. Why not, if everyone else did?
I needed to find the article in the Alvarado paper about my uncles looking for the gold. That would certainly help my timeline. I’d use the date anyway. Something happened in 1984, over twenty years ago. Something that made Donnie think we had no right to the gold.
The morning went quickly. After breakfast, I showered and dressed. When I called the library, I disappointedly learned the old chief was ill and wouldn’t be talking to the children. They couldn’t tell me how to get in touch with him. At nine, the phone rang. I glanced at the clock, too early for Mel. I was almost afraid to answer.
“There’s a gentleman waiting for you in the lobby.” Adams said in his usual, dry manner.
“Who? Could you please get his name?” Neither Donnie nor his men were brave enough to face me; certainly they were just trying to scare us off. They were successful at making me nervous, but I was a long way from cashing in on this.
“Just a minute, Ms. Brown, I’ll ask.” Adams’ dry silence hung in the air like a dark cloud. “His name is Gary Wright.”
Gary. Is he with Donnie and those two other thugs? I wanted to forget him. Now he shows up here, too. “Let me speak to him, please.” I waited while he came to the phone. “Gary, didn’t I make myself clear enough last weekend? I don’t want to see you. You have a lot of nerve coming here.”
“You won’t even listen to my side of the story, Addie. Just let me try to explain.”
“I know your side of the story and just the fact you know Donnie is all I need to know.”
&
nbsp; “I brought something for you. I want to say I’m sorry. Anything to make this better.” He sounded sincere.
I wanted to believe him but Addie Brown thought with her head, not her heart. I wasn’t going to listen. “Whatever it is, just leave it at the desk. Clay will be here soon,” I lied hoping another male figure would give him second thoughts.
“Addie…” His voice trailed off as I hung up.
Within fifteen minutes, two-dozen yellow roses graced the coffee table in the sitting area. I sat on the couch and steamed. Why did that man make me so mad? It wasn’t that long ago he’d made me happier than I’d ever thought imaginable. He’d shaken up what I believed in and who I thought I was. That’s what Gary Wright had done to me; he’d tipped the scale on the delicate balance I’d achieved. I just couldn’t put my finger on what kind of insanity I dealt with. There I stood again, with a smoking gun. Had I been too quick to judge him? At that moment I felt justified, even triumphant and guilty.
Mel’s flight came in on time and when she arrived at our suite, I met her at the door. It must have been obvious I’d spent the last hour fuming.
“What’s wrong?” She dumped all her luggage in the entry and put her hand on my shoulder.
“Everything.” I told her about Donnie being at the library, the private eye here at the hotel, the man at dinner and, finally, Gary’s early morning arrival.
“Get a hold of yourself, girl. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. We’ve known all along Donnie was going to try to beat us to the gold.”
“I know. But adding Gary to the equation really upsets me. Look at the flowers, Mel; they’re taking up half the coffee table.” I pointed to the large bouquet.
“Is there a card?” She made her way to the arrangement to look for one.
“Here.” I’d held it in my hand for almost an hour, afraid to open it. Was he going to tell me of his undying love? Tell me he couldn’t live without me? Probably not.
“Please believe me. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8,” she read. Mel looked at me with one eyebrow raised the way she always did when she had an exasperating question. “Do you?”
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