Landry followed the young man as he led her down a narrow hall. Dream catchers with feathers moving as they walked past and paintings hung on the walls of the hallway. The strong scent of sage filled the house, wrapping around her like a shawl.
He stopped in front of a closed door and nodded. “The maps are inside. I am not allowed to enter.”
“I understand.” She’d wondered how she was going to get a photo without him seeing. Now she didn’t have to worry about it. She reached for the doorknob, a little surprised to find her palm sweaty. She opened the door and stepped inside.
Landry wasn’t sure what she had expected, but with the mystique the young man and Vanessa had laid out, she expected more than a plain white folding table with a survey map laid out atop. The best she could tell, it was a modernized aerial map but with great details of landmarks written in.
Keeping her back to the door and using her body as a shield, Landry began snapping photos in bursts with her cell. Every angle she could. She was limited with her arm in a sling, but she used that to her advantage to keep her photo taking obscured from the young man’s view from the hall. There, next to what was marked as Weaver’s Needle was a funny figure, then a red mark. This had to be where Tarak figured the warrior Indians were.
Where the gold mine was.
Landry took a few more shots for good measure then pocketed her cell before turning back to the door. The young man stared at her intently. She solemnly nodded then joined him in the hall, shutting the door behind her. “Thank you. That’s all I needed to do.” She quickly led the way back to the front of the house where Nickolai was waiting. The last thing she wanted to do was run into Tarak or Vanessa. She’d have a lot of explaining to do that she wasn’t sure she could talk her way out of.
She thanked the young man again at the front door and hustled Nickolai out to the Jeep. “I got all the photos we’ll need.”
“Does it show where the mine could be?” Even Nickolai sounded excited as he helped her into the Jeep.
She waited until he was behind the wheel with the engine cranked before she replied. “It looks to be right by Weaver’s Needle. Drive a little ways away and look at these shots.”
He turned left at the corner and pulled into an empty lot.
She handed him the cell. “I took several of the whole map then broke them down into sections. I think the red mark indicates where Tarak thinks the mine is.”
“Do we think he might be right?”
Landry raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “All the research I’ve done indicates he could. And what if he’s right? His tribe and his shaman? What if he is supposed to join them? If that’s the case, then he would be able to figure it out, right?”
“Tell me you don’t seriously think that could even be a possibility?” The incredulity in his voice pushed her to fidget, but she refused.
“What if it is? Think about it. People have searched for this mine for generation after generation. What if it has been hidden in plain sight until revealed to the person whose destiny is to join the warriors responsible for guarding it?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not saying I believe that; I’m just saying I’m open to the possibility.” God worked in mysterious ways and often surprised many by the people He chose to work through. “I don’t discount anything.”
“Well, I discount all the shaman and medicine man mumbo jumbo, but I do believe there is a hidden gold mine out there. I think it’s possible that Tarak has believed this destiny gig his whole life so he has made it his life’s work to research the area for possible locations. And if we find it based on his map, then that’s the reason I’ll believe.”
“What if it’s divine intervention?”
Nickolai snorted and put the car back in DRIVE and eased back onto the road.
“You don’t believe in divine intervention, either?”
“I would have to believe in the Great Spirit or God or something to believe in divine intervention, so that would be a no.”
Landry found her words trapped in her mouth, unwilling or unable to escape. What?
He glanced at her. “Oh, I know you’re a Christian. I’ve seen you praying over meals and stuff. Hey, if that’s your crutch, more power to you. It’s just not for me.”
“Crutch? You think Christianity is a crutch?”
“I’m not trying to offend you, Landry. I’m just saying I don’t believe in all that. I think people say and do what they want and there are good and bad consequences for everything. There are actions and reactions. That’s the world going around. I don’t think there’s some all-powerful being orchestrating everything.” He shook his head as he came to a stop sign. “If there is, it’s a cruel being.”
Landry’s stomach hurt. “Oh, Nickolai. I’m so sorry you’ve had such tragedy and grief. Yes, there are actions and reactions…. God gave us free will, so there are consequences for our choices. But God loves us so much. All of us. He wants us to have eternal life with Him.” How raw he had to be to not feel God’s love. Landry wanted to pull him into her arms and hold him tight, just to feel a sliver of the care of the Father.
“I’m not going to debate this. You believe what you want, and I’ll respect your belief. I just ask that you respect I don’t believe.” He let out a long breath. “Now, do you want to head to Weaver’s Needle and look around? See if we can find the man with the map?”
Landry paused. For a really long moment. Nickolai wondered if he had, in fact, offended her. He hadn’t meant to, but he wasn’t going to discuss the possibility of God or how He’s so good and all that. He’d learned the hard way that if there was a superior being, it didn’t play fair.
“Sure. Let’s check it out.” Her voice didn’t sound like she was angry.
He turned the Jeep in the direction of the Superstition Mountains and cracked the windows a bit. The fresh, cool air filled the vehicle. Nickolai breathed deeply. He loved New Orleans, but there was something crisper, cleaner about the air here. And the stars … never in his life had he seen the night sky look so amazing and beautiful.
“Nickolai, I don’t want to bring up a subject that is obviously painful for you, but I need to tell you something.”
He gritted his teeth. She would be one of the ones who had to argue and try to get him to become a believer. Why did every Christian feel they needed to “save” everyone else? It was not only annoying, but also a bit arrogant.
“I’m very sorry for what happened to your family. I can’t even begin to understand how heart wrenching and horrible it’s been for you.” She reached over and took his hand, holding it firmly in hers. “But one thing I do know is that your parents dying was not your fault.”
Even though she was so wrong, it lifted Nickolai’s spirits to hear her words, like a salve to his wound.
“Your sister’s illness caused their death. Not you.” She held tight to his hand.
“I discredited Mom and Dad’s concern over Lisbeth’s behavior. If I hadn’t, maybe she would have been diagnosed sooner and the fire could have been prevented. But I thought I knew everything. I thought because of my training that I was smarter than everyone.” If only he could go back in time. He’d been so sure it was just a phase. His sister trying to just fit in with the other teens her age who were acting out.
“Nickolai, you can’t control everything. Sure, you might have discredited their concerns, but you had no reason to think your sister was sick. From what you told me, it seems like most people would’ve come to the same conclusion you did. It’s time to stop beating yourself up over something you had no control over.” She squeezed his hand. Warmth spread all the way up his arm and to his shoulder, warming it more than his PT rubdowns.
Oh, how he wished that were true. “I appreciate your kindness, Landry, I really do.” But he knew the truth.
“Let me ask you this, does mental illness run in your family?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“So was th
ere any reason you or your parents would assume that your sister suffered from any mental disorder?”
“Not really, but still …”
“What were your parents planning that you talked them out of?”
“What?” He withdrew his hand to make a sharp turn. The Superstitions loomed before them, big and majestic. Nickolai suddenly felt very, very small.
“Were they going to take her to a doctor? A therapist? A counselor, maybe?”
“No.”
“So, what did your opinion stop them from doing?”
“I don’t know. I mean, Mom was concerned and talked to Dad, but I don’t think they made any plans.” They’d been discussing Lisbeth’s lack of discipline in the kitchen because she was late for curfew again. Dad had told Mom something needed to be done. “Mom said she didn’t know what had gotten into her lately. Even her grades had taken a dive.”
“And you said what to that?”
He concentrated on remembering. It seemed like he’d fought for so long to block the details. “I told them they were too easy on her. That they needed to ground her. Take her phone and really stick to a punishment.” He shook his head. “My parents were never really great at sticking to any punishment. They were bad at it with me and with Lisbeth … well, they doted on her.”
“I’ve had many friends who were parents of teens. Some of those teens were really rebellious and misbehaved. I don’t know of a single one whose initial thought when their teen started acting out was to take them to a psychiatrist in case they suffered from a mental illness.”
“But she’d been cutting herself. That was a big concern of Mom’s.”
Landry nodded. “I imagine. Did she talk with any of her friends? Any of your sister’s friends’ parents?”
He remembered what Dad told Mom. “Dad said one of the boys Lisbeth used to date had done the same thing for a while. His parents had taken him to a counselor who told them not to worry about it. He said all the kids were trying different ways to belong to a group. To relate to each other.”
“So you made a recommendation that just about anybody else would. A trusted friend. Maybe even a teacher or a counselor.”
Put like that … He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Then it’s time you let go of the guilt. You’re carrying around something you have no business carrying. It’s not yours to have.”
“But—”
“No. You don’t get to keep the guilt. Keep the grief. Hold on to the feeling of loss if you want, but the guilt isn’t yours anymore.”
While she really had no authority over his emotions, just her stating that so matter-of-factly sent a release of heaviness off his chest.
Was it really that easy to let go of the guilt? Just because she said it wasn’t his to have and keep?
She chuckled. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“How?”
Landry smiled. “Because you’ve been carrying it around like a badge you put on every day. You just needed someone to give you the cold hard facts that you giving your parents your opinion didn’t alter their path. You didn’t change their minds about taking her to a doctor or therapist.” She shifted the seat belt over her injured shoulder. “It’s a tragedy. Losing your parents, then having to accept responsibility for your sister and deal with her illness … it’s no wonder you decided to heap a helping of guilt on yourself.”
He didn’t reply because he didn’t know what to say. He would need to process everything she’d said. One thing was certain, though—he did feel as if his load had lightened considerably. And he owed that to Landry Parker.
If only …
“Wow, is that Weaver’s Needle?”
The column of rock formed a very distinctive peak that was visible for miles. History explained that the formation was created when a thick layer of fused volcanic ash was seriously eroded. A large split in the side of the formation gave it the appearance of having two tops instead of one, but this could only be viewed from the side. The peak was named after a mountain man, Weaver.
For decades it’d been rumored that the Needle’s shadow indicates the location of the rich vein of gold.
“I guess we walk from here.” Nickolai turned off the engine. He nodded at Landry’s shoulder. “Are you okay to walk for a bit?”
“As long as we aren’t going for a full hiking trip.”
“I thought we’d just look around. See if anything on that map matches up. See if we discover any signs of the old man. Maybe find where he’s camping out and talk to him.”
“You mean get the map.” She smiled and waited on him to come open her door and help her out.
“Well, of course, we’d get the map.” He couldn’t explain why her waiting gave him such a burst of happiness. Maybe because he’d been talking about emotional things that he normally didn’t talk about. Either way, he was happy for the moment as he led her toward the well-walked path.
She opened the picture on her cell. “Looks like it’d be this way. But, where is that ridge?”
He compared the picture with the actual landscape. “Is it possible it’s behind the formation? That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“It’s a long way to hike there, but what if we got up there?” She nodded to a plateau about fifteen feet above them. “Maybe if we got up there, we could see over the formation and see if this ridge is visible.”
Because that would put them closer to the mine, and closer to the map.
He glanced up at the ledge then back to her sling. “I’ll climb up there and have a look-see. You stay here.”
She opened her mouth, to argue Nickolai was sure, but then she adjusted her sling. “Be careful.” It must be aching for her not to argue. “I’ll be back in a flash.” He smiled as he started climbing.
It was harder than it looked. Several times his foot or hand slipped and sent small, loose pebbles clattering down.
The sun beat down on the formations—the rocks radiated heat.
“Be careful.” If Landry said it once, she said it at least five times.
“Almost there.” He reached for the top and gripped with his right hand. He pulled, hoisting himself up. He could just about see—
A sharp jab stuck in the fatty part of his hand between his thumb and forefinger.
He sucked in air. Gulped it. Then he couldn’t hold on. His hand released. His heart tightened in his chest.
He fell backward, down.
Nickolai heard Landry scream his name.
Down. Down.
Darkness, nothing but warm darkness.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dear Lord, please let him be okay.
Landry raced over to where Nickolai had fallen. He lay on his back, his arms and legs flung out. He didn’t move.
She dropped to her knees beside him. “Nickolai.”
He moaned and tried to sit up.
“You should not sit up. You had a pretty bad fall.” She ran her hands along his legs, feeling for any obvious breaks.
“Maa taagumm feels weerrd.” He sat.
Landry turned back to his face. “Oh my goodness.” Hives broke out all over his face and neck. She checked his arms. His wrists had welts, too. “I’d swear you’re having an allergic reaction.” Her own allergy to tree nuts caused this reaction, but Nickolai hadn’t eaten anything. “Caan’t bweathe.”
She could hear the wheezing in his chest.
Fear gripped her as she watched his eyes widen sporadically. He swayed, as if he’d had too much to drink or had been caught on a fast-spinning amusement park ride.
The wheezing grew louder.
She reached for her phone. No, even if she got through to emergency services, there wasn’t time. He wouldn’t make it.
Landry grabbed her EpiPen instead. He might not have eaten something, but he was sure enough having an allergic reaction. She knew the symptoms all too well.
She withdrew the medication injector from its case, aimed for his thigh, and stabbed him with the Epi.
> The resulting reaction was almost immediate. She breathed a sigh. “Come on, we have to get you to the Jeep. Now.”
He let her help him to his feet. He wobbled a little. “What happened to me?”
“I don’t know, but I know you had an allergic reaction. I gave you a shot of epi, but we need to get you to an ER immediately. If we don’t know what happened, they might need to give you a second injection, and I have no idea how far away we are from a hospital.”
“I can look it up on my cell while you drive.” He steadied himself. “Can you drive with that sling?”
“Yeah. The pain’s almost gone anyway. It’s just a precaution to make sure I didn’t hurt myself worse.” She grabbed his elbow and led him down the trail. “But I won’t be able to carry you if you pass out or anything, so at least get in the Jeep.”
She helped him into the passenger seat then rushed around the vehicle. Thank You, Lord, for keeping him alive. And for letting me have the allergy I’ve resented all my life because it probably saved his life.
Landry slipped behind the wheel. “Did you find a hospital?”
He held up his phone. “Yeah. Banner Goldfield Medical Center. According to the app, we should get there in fifteen minutes or so.” He set the phone to give voice directions.
She buckled her seat belt then roared the Jeep down the road.
“Whoa, I’m not dying.”
She cut her eyes at him. “Not funny. You could’ve.”
“An allergic reaction, huh?”
“That’s exactly what it looked like. As soon as I gave you the injection, you improved.” She paused as the cell’s voice gave her directions.
She turned on the next right. “What happened up there?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned his head back against the leather of the seat. “I was almost to the top and I grabbed the next rock. All of a sudden it was like a piece of hard straw jabbed into my hand; then it burned. Next thing I knew, I was flat out on my back on the ground with my tongue feeling twenty times too big for my mouth.”
“Show me your hand. Where it hurts.”
He held out his hand, palm up. Right between his thumb and forefinger inflammation and swelling spread from a darker red area. He touched it and cringed. “It’s hot and sore.”
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