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I grab a couple of cold beers another performer offers me, sauntering toward Esmeralda and offering her one. I stand next to her, soaking up the shade from the tent as my shoulders finally relax. Thank you, God, for this blessed turn of events!

“So, what are you two out here doing? And why does the lady have a ring, and you don’t?” Manuel asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Treasure hunting. We’re newlyweds. Like yesterday, so I don’t have a ring yet.”

“No wedding band? Well, did you at least find the treasure?”

“We did,” Esmeralda says, eyeing me. I’m shocked at her willingness to admit this. “But I’m afraid it’s cursed.”

“Me, too,” I add.

Manuel furrows his brows, a disbelieving look on his face.

She explains, “It’s Aztec gold stolen by a Spanish conquistador way back in colonial times. Ever since we’ve gone looking for it, there’s been no end to our bad luck.”

“That’s right,” I add. “Although, in all honesty, I was on an unlucky streak before my angel showed up.”

“Aztec gold?” Manuel exclaims, eyeing the bag in my hand. “I would be careful with something like that. A curse is almost inevitable.”

“Yeah, and I think it’s the reason behind my ranch’s century-long curse, too. But what should we do with it?”

“My cousin is a curator at the National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City. I could ask him?”

Reese eyes me quizzically. “Angel, would you be okay with that?”

“Yes.”

I sigh with relief, the vision of the Cadillac disappearing into the ground still fresh in my mind, along with the awareness that if Mariachi Sol hadn’t showed up, this could very well have been the end for us. As much as Nevada’s always been my home, I don’t want to decorate the Silver State with my skeleton.

A thousand thoughts race through my head as Manuel gets on the phone with his brother in Mexico City, and Esmeralda speaks with a few of the mariachi performers. She looks relaxed,her face no longer beet-red, though there’s still enough sun glow that she’ll be happy for the Aloe Vera gel I keep in the fridge.

Manuel waves me over. “Would you like to speak with my brother? Get his recommendation for what to do with the gold?”

I nod, taking the phone and speaking with a man who introduces himself as Emiliano. His English is flawless as we go over the details of the find. To my amazement, he recognizes the El Cortez treasure almost immediately. His voice fills with awe as I fill in the details, striding over to Esmeralda and putting the call on speaker so that we can all talk.

Emiliano says, “I’m an academic, a university professor, so I can’t say that I believe in superstitions or curses. It’s hard to collect empirical data on such matters, and yet the anecdotal evidence is also difficult to deny. With Aztec artifacts, not unlike Egyptian ones, curses are highly likely. Especially if, like the El Cortez treasure, it was originally acquired through nefarious means.”

Esmeralda’s face hardens, and I wonder what my beauty’s thinking. Speaking into the phone, she asks, “If it were you, Emiliano, what would you do?”

Without hesitation, the professor and curator answers, “Repatriate it back to Mexico as fast as I can. I know you may think I’m saying this because of my nationality and position at the museum. But that is the only way I’ve seen curses related to treasure end. I would also contact a local shaman to cleanse the ranch of any bad energies.”

This all sounds woo-woo as fuck. But I’m determined to do whatever makes Esmeralda feel better and ensures a happy future together. She’s my only priority, and I want to give her everything wonderful, abundant, and plentiful. I want to be the good luck charm for her that she’s been for me despite everything.

“Then, that’s what we’ll do,” she says, her face relaxing into a smile.

“I will help you in any way that I can with the process, and obviously, you can trust my brother, Manuel, with the treasure. I will confirm with a communication from the museum when it is safely in our care.”

“Wait. What?” Manuel exclaims. “You want me to travel with a cursed Aztec treasure all the way from northern Nevada to Mexico City? Have you lost your mind?”

His protest both assures me that we’re not getting scammed and makes me feel sorry for the guy. After all, a quick trip around the ranch in pursuit of the El Cortez treasure nearly got Esmeralda and I spectacularly killed twice.

“It will be fine. As long as you’re returning it, you shouldn’t experience any trouble.”

“Shouldn’t,” Manuel mutters under his breath.

I contemplate Esmeralda’s lovely expression, crouching carefully next to her chair to keep from exacerbating my bum knee. “What are you thinking, wife?”

“Ruminating on our wild treasure hunt and what it nearly cost us. I mean, you had your hand on the driver’s side door handle. How did you not get sucked into the sinkhole?”