Forgotten Soul (Soul Searchers Series: Book 1)

by Sandra Edwards

  By now, the thought that Rio may know more than she was letting on hadn’t crossed his mind. Maybe he’d been a bit suspicious of her in the beginning, but his father trusted her and that was good enough for him. Besides, now that he’d gotten to know her he felt a certain sort of kinship with her. There was a connection between them. One that ran so much deeper than the treasure they were after. Billy assumed it was because they were cousins.

  In the course of their snipe hunt, they picked out random sights and started digging. The way Billy saw it; if the bad guys didn’t do anything but watch them dig, that’d say a lot about their motives.

  While Turner’s goons watched from afar, Rio found it easy to lead them around at will. Billy chose sites, ones that made it convenient for their friends to watch from afar—which is exactly what they did, and nothing more.

  Billy had started to think that maybe someone had overheard them somewhere along the way, and decided to wait until he and Rio found the treasure before making their move. If that were the case, he was determined to confuse them and guide them in the direction he wanted them to go. He figured it was the least he could do since they were determined to let him do all the dirty work.

  Billy and Rio instigated a well-thought-out plan. They’d picked out a spot, gone up to it and started digging. After awhile he threw the shovel down, she’d reciprocated and they started pointing at each other and waving their hands in the air.

  From a distance, it looked like they were arguing. And for Turner’s goons, Taylor and Biggs, it seemed real. At least through a pair of binoculars.

  But how long could this wild goose chase continue? Sooner or later, even the dumbest of dimwits would eventually catch on. Ultimately, Rio and Billy knew they had to come up with a better plan. For instance, one that would actually lead them to the treasure would be nice.

  If they figured out how to find the treasure though, they’d also have to come up with a plan to deal with their “friends”.

  Billy was going to have to be the brains behind this operation because, these days, Rio had a one-track mind. She was even on the verge of starting to feel guilty about deceiving the Tajan family.

  But Rio had become completely captivated by the story of Maggie and Tajan—she couldn’t help herself. All she wanted to do was learn more about the couple’s ill-fated romance. Then there was that thing with the pictures up in Virginia City, as well as the remarkable incident on the boulder up at Lake Tahoe. And it was all topped off by the way she freaked out at the site where Maggie and Tajan died.

  Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, Rio got that there were strange things happening to her. But she was much too consumed with the tragic love story to let her brain flag the mysterious peculiarities as a problem.

  PART FOUR

  The Reunion

  CHAPTER 22

  MAGGIE AND HER sisters grew up on their grandfather’s farm in central California. Their father had run off when her mother was pregnant with Mary. At the time, Maggie was six and Molly was three. As a result, Maggie was the only one who had any real memories of their father. Their mother died of a fever when Maggie was ten. Being the eldest, it was put upon her to take on part of the responsibilities for her younger sisters, right alongside her grandfather.

  But things had changed. Maggie was all grown up and Molly was dead. Carrying on without Molly was one of the hardest undertakings Maggie and Mary would ever face. They weren’t weak women though, so they mourned their sister and then got on with the business of living.

  The first few weeks back home were pure hell for Maggie. She missed Tajan something fierce. It was hard not talking to him, or seeing his smile, or feeling his touch. Lost and alone, she was sure she was destined to live a lifetime of emptiness.

  Then something wonderful happened. Like a gift from heaven, she discovered she was pregnant. She saw the baby as a gift from God, sent specifically to help ease the pain of her loss.

  In February of 1864, Maggie gave birth to a baby boy whom she named Tajan, after his father. Because her own father had disappeared from her life, not a day went by that she didn’t feel guilty and remorseful for depriving her son of his father.

  She missed Tajan so much that her misery was like a steel weight. But every time she looked into her baby’s eyes, the child did help to ease the sorrow. If only a little bit.

  While Maggie had spent the entire winter preparing for the birth of her child, Tajan had spent it trying to get over losing her. He hadn’t had much success. The thing that had made it so hard was he was trapped. During the winter months the mountainous terrain was harsh on the tribe. Every year, as the fall brought on cooler weather, the people began their preparations for the unforgiving snowbound winter to come. The entire camp would pack up, disperse and move down into the valley areas along the Nevada side of the lake. Trekking over that mountain wasn’t an option during the winter.

  By the time spring broke, the snow had eased up in the hills and Tajan talked himself into going after Maggie. He’d made up his mind. He was either going to bring her back here to live with him among his people, or they would strike out on their own. But either way they’d be together, and she’d be back where she belonged. With him.

  On a spring day in April, when baby Tajan was about two months old, Maggie was outside tending to the task of hanging the freshly washed laundry out in the warm California sun. Several rows of clothing, including baby articles and sheets, swayed in the wind.

  Maggie was among the rows of laundry hanging clothes and such on the line. Baby Tajan cooed in the basket on the ground next to her. She looked at him and smiled. “Hi sweetie…” she crooned, “are you having a good time outside with Momma?”

  The baby had been Maggie’s saving-grace. If God hadn’t seen fit to bless her with this beautiful baby boy, she would’ve never been able to get over the heartbreak of losing Tajan.

  Her sister Mary had been out in the garden gathering vegetables. Heading back toward the house, she was the first to see the Indian on horseback riding their way.

  She did a quick scan of the horizon and felt a measure of relief that he appeared to be alone. “Maggie…” She kept her voice low and calm.

  Maggie peered out over the line of laundry and gasped at the sight of the figure off in the distance. She knew it was Tajan. She looked down at the baby and said with a smile, “Your Daddy’s here.”

  Emerging from the clothesline maze, she headed out to meet him. At first she took casual steps, but that didn’t last long as her need to be in his arms got the better of her. Tossing her pride aside, she ran to him.

  Tajan slid off his horse and rushed toward her, swinging her into the circle of his arms. He was overcome with a long-awaited sense of relief. When her tears fell, he kissed them away.

  “You’re here…” she whispered, caressing the length of his hair. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  Maggie’s cheeks warmed as he pressed his lips against hers. But before giving in to her powerful need to get lost in him, she managed to break the spell. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She contained her enthusiasm as she tugged at his hand, leading him back toward the house.

  They strolled together, arm in arm, not seeing or caring about anything but each other. Approaching the clotheslines, she clutched his hand tighter and led him into the maze. The baby was still resting quietly in the basket where she’d left him. She picked him up and turned to Tajan. “This is your son.”

  “My son?” Tajan’s words were in English and they came weaker than he’d anticipated. But that didn’t stop him from taking the baby and embracing him within the security of his arms. “My son.” He peered down at him. “You and my son will return with me,” he said to Maggie while still gazing at the baby.

  “Yes.” Maggie’s answer was delivered quickly and with certainty. “We’ll go with you. But I want to wait until my grandfather returns. Will you stay here with me until he gets back?”

  Tajan’s smile seemed to reach
out and caress her cheek. He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers with a sweet, gentle kiss. “You give him name?”

  “Like his father,” she said. “His name is Tajan.”

  That didn’t make much sense to Tajan. As far as he could see, the child needed his own identity. It wasn’t his custom to label a child as an extension of oneself. Even so, he agreed because that’s what Maggie wanted. If naming their son after him made her happy, then he was more than willing to accommodate her. He simply chalked the naming practice up to another one of the white man’s crazy ways.

  Maggie’s eyes flew open. There was nothing but complete silence and darkness. Emerging from her slumber, she realized that she was in her bed. Her next lucid insight was that Tajan wasn’t in the bed with her. She sprang up, trying to recall some little something to prove that his arrival hadn’t been a dream. Scanning the room, she saw him sleeping peacefully on the floor.

  She pulled a couple of blankets down onto the floor and made herself a pallet. Pulling another quilt off the bed, she snuggled up next to him and spread the cover over them.

  Tajan stirred. His eyes remained closed as a smile curled on the tips of his mouth. He slid his arm around her. “I am sorry.” He opened his eyes. “The white man’s bed is much soft.”

  Maggie laid her finger against his lips. “Shh…it doesn’t matter. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” She kissed him with a hunger that contradicted her outward calm.

  “I could not stay away,” The caress of his lips sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. “You promise me—” His voice hardened. “—you do not leave again.”

  Maggie giggled. “You may live to regret that some day.” Her head fit perfectly in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. “Death is the only thing that will ever take me away from you again.”

  CHAPTER 23

  BRADFORD FULLER returned the next day. Maggie and Mary greeted him on the back porch and coaxed him with a gentle reverence to get him into the living room.

  As soon as his gaze fell upon Tajan, anxiety flickered on his face like a candle’s flame sputtering in the wind. Maggie fidgeted. Her grandfather was going to object to her returning to the tribe with Tajan. She didn’t want to go against him, but she hadn’t the strength to leave Tajan again.

  Bradford didn’t have anything against Tajan personally. As a matter of fact, he liked him very well. The issue was not Tajan’s heritage.

  He couldn’t get past the feeling that Maggie would be found out up there, being so close to the scene of the crime and Molly’s death. If a trader got a look at her, he’d associate her with the woman killed during the bank robbery because Maggie and Molly looked so much alike. Therefore, she’d be deemed one of Molly’s accomplices who’d gotten away.

  “Tajan…” Bradford made sure his tone kept to an even keel. “How are your parents?”

  “They are good,” Tajan said in English.

  “I must say…” Bradford paused to rein in his concern, which could easily end up sounding like intolerance if he wasn’t careful. “I’m rather surprised to see you here.”

  Tajan straightened his stature. “I come for my wife.”

  “Look, Tajan… I got nothing against you.” An anguished tone accompanied Bradford’s words. “Under different circumstances I’d be honored to have you as my grandson-in-law. But being anywhere near her—” He pointed to Maggie. “—puts you in great danger. And I think too much of you and your parents to let that happen.”

  “If I die tomorrow…it will be worth it.” He looked at Maggie and a smile touched his mouth. “Just to be with her today.”

  Maggie had been silent up until now. “With all due respect, Grandfather…Tajan and I have discussed the consequences of our actions,” she said. “And in the end, we’d rather risk discovery than to live apart. And I won’t keep him away from his son any longer.”

  “All right.” Bradford sensed that further argument was useless. He gave in, although against his better judgment. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your minds.” He glanced back and forth between them. “I won’t stand in your way.” He gave them a smile that was backed by misgivings. “You have my blessings.”

  In truth, Bradford had a lot of objections. But his eldest granddaughter had inherited a great deal of the Fuller stubbornness. She’d made up her mind, and there’d be no talking her out of what she was hell-bent on doing.

  And now there was the baby involved. Every child deserved to have both a mother and a father. Bradford had seen firsthand what his son’s running off had done to Maggie and her sisters. So, with a bit of reluctance, he wished the couple well.

  Bradford sat at the head of the table, with Mary and Maggie on either side of him and Tajan beside Maggie. Tajan found the white man’s chair to be as unnerving as their bed.

  “My big regret is that we weren’t able to recover Molly’s body and give her a proper burial.” Maggie’s eyes moistened with tears.

  The white man’s burial practices—another custom that Tajan didn’t understand. But it was important to Maggie. She’d expressed concern over it just last night, wondering what her mother and her sister would think of the lack of a funeral for her sister.

  “Is there no way to find out what happened to her?”

  “We made inquiries, but nothing’s ever come of it.” Bradford shook his head. “My guess is that she was buried at the back of the cemetery in Carson City…or maybe they took her out to Chinatown. That wouldn’t surprise me.”

  The uncertainty of Molly’s plight seemed to slice through Mary, rattling her shoulders. She let out a muffling sound that faded away before she asked, “What do you want to do about the gold and silver we buried?”

  “Get me a pencil and some paper,” Maggie said.

  Mary reached for the bureau behind her and came back to the table with the items Maggie had requested.

  Maggie scribbled on one side of the paper under the dim glow of an oil lamp. She stopped and looked at her handiwork and then folded the paper over and over and drew a likeness of the area where she and her sisters had buried the treasure. She unfolded the paper and ripped it in half. Glancing up with a smile, she handed half to Mary.

  The map was Maggie’s token of assurance that she wouldn’t make an attempt to reclaim the treasure without her sister.

  “Next summer,” Maggie said to Mary. “I want you to come to the lake…Grandfather will show you where. And we’ll go get the treasure.”

  “Better yet,” Mary said. “Why don’t you dig it up and bring me my half? If I never step foot in that place again, it won’t bother me a bit.”

  Maggie looked at Tajan and he nodded his approval. She turned back to Mary. “All right. Next summer we’ll bring you your half.”

  CHAPTER 24

  TAJAN AND MAGGIE approached the tribal campsite on horseback. She carried the baby in a cradleboard on her back. Chatter quickly buzzed through the encampment, bringing everyone out to greet the couple.

  Timeko and Lela appeared from inside their lodge. Upon seeing Tajan and Maggie, Timeko flashed a concerned look at his son. Lela’s face spread into a genuine smile.

  Tajan slid off his horse easily and helped Maggie down. He unstrapped the baby from the cradleboard on Maggie’s back. Scooping the baby into his arms, he moved toward his parents. “Father, mother…” he spoke in the Washoe’s native language. “this is my son.”

  Lela took the baby and cradled him in her arms. Looking down at her grandson, she smiled and then let her gaze travel back to her husband’s. “You see it, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Timeko nodded.

  She looked at Maggie. “He look like Tajan…as baby.”

  Timeko focused on Maggie. “You stay,” he said in English. “Leave no more.”

  “Sir…” Maggie swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I’ll never go anywhere without Tajan…ever again.”

  Things would have been fine if it hadn’t been for that trapper Trader John happe
ning upon the Washoe camp on a fine summer’s day a couple of months later.

  Maggie had adapted easily and quickly to wearing the Indian garb once again. Still, the white man’s scenic drawings enticed her. She wasn’t alone. The stranger’s pictures had drawn the attention of several tribe members, including Tajan.

  “Are you the artist?” Maggie asked the trader.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said. “I am.”

  “Do you paint too?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Could you paint me?” She pointed to herself and then Tajan. “And my husband?”

  “Yes, I can.” He nodded. “If the price is right.”

  Maggie smiled to herself. There was no way the trader’s price was going to be more than she had. She had the money from the bank robbery in Carson City.

  Even though Tajan had been against the idea of having his and Maggie’s paintings done—he’d thought it would somehow capture his soul and lock it inside his likeness on the canvas—but Maggie had wanted it and he found it difficult saying ‘no’ to her. The couple ended up with two fine-looking portraits.

  Maggie surveyed the paintings with extreme pleasure. Once she was able to tear her gaze away from Tajan’s portrait, she turned to the trader. “Sir, I cannot thank you enough.” She fanned her hand in front of the paintings. “They’re beautiful.”

  Trader John stared at Maggie with a curious eye. “Payment of the agreed upon fee will be thanks enough.”

  Maggie offered him a pouch containing gold coins.

  He snatched up the small bag and dumped the contents into his hand. Coins spilled into his palm. He glanced back at her and grinned. “Thank you kindly.”

  After collecting his bounty, Trader John wasted no time in heading for Carson City. He was looking for a poker game and a good, stiff drink. It’d been a long time since he’d had enough money to back both his obsessions. Finally, he was certain he’d have the luck he thought he so richly deserved.