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The third trip they’d ridden straight to Graham’s green pond and proceeded on at a snail’s pace, following their half of the map.

Of course, they hadn’t known it was only half at the time.

That’s when they found the cave where Grandpa MacKenzie had died.

They’d intended to spend another day hunting because they hadn’t reached the end of their map.

Then Loyal Kelton, Ellie’s miserably dis loyal former fiancé, had tried to steal the map and kill Brody.

This trip, Josh felt a strong need to keep up the hunt until they reached the end point of the MacKenzie map, then on through to the end point of the Westbrook map.

Today they’d ride straight to Grandpa MacKenzie’s final resting place and ride on from there. Josh, once he knew where he was going, found a much easier trail to ride directly there. They’d press on to the end of their map and the beginning of the map Grandpa MacKenzie had sent to Mayhew Westbrook.

Josh looked at Tilda riding beside him and reached for her. “You let me know when you need a rest.”

“I will, but so far I’m fine.” She caught his hand and smiled.

He studied her face for signs of pain or exhaustion. She still had scrapes on her cheek, but she looked sturdy and interested in the treasure hunt.

Josh had never ridden a horse and held someone’s hand before.

“The first day on a trail ride can put a lot of aches and pains in your body. And you’ve already taken a beating.”

“I’ll let you know. So far I think moving and the fresh air are making me feel better.”

He suspected she’d feel different by the end of the day. He planned to watch over his brand-new wife.

The MacKenzie brothers were paired up behind him, Cord bringing up the rear. He rode as if he’d spent time regularly in a saddle, so beyond glancing back every so often, Josh didn’t worry about him overly.

Later, as the trail widened, Cord came up beside the MacKenzies. Josh heard them talking quietly, Thayne and Loch no doubt filling Cord in on all that had happened.

Josh hoped their love of the treasure didn’t make the stories too fanciful. Yet he heard enough to know Brody and Ellie had told Cord a lot, so the man was getting a fair version. Josh even filled in gaps in the story, with Tilda occasionally adding tidbits of historical background.

* * * *

They reached Grandpa MacKenzie’s cave within half a day. But since it had taken them about three days over two trips to get this far before, Josh felt encouraged by that.

Josh looked at Tilda, then at Cord. “Graham MacKenzie died in that cave. That’s where we found Mayhew’s name and the gold coins.

There was writing left by Graham with a few notes that must’ve been part of what he’d found because they were much older and in Spanish.

Michelle is still translating them, but we decided, their historical value aside, they don’t explain where they’re located.

Graham’s notes tell us that. So we didn’t wait for her to finish.

Do you boys want to go in and pay respects to your grandpa again? ”

“I think we should keep moving, Uncle Josh.” Thayne sounded mature and reasonable. But the kid wanted to hunt treasure, not spend a moment of silence over the grandpa he’d never met.

“Tilda? Cord? I don’t think we missed anything important last time.” Josh looked between the two.

“We heard Brody ask to visit his grandpa here.” Tilda looked solemnly at the cave. “We can leave our visit for another day, for when Brody can join us.”

“Okay then, let’s keep moving.” Cord seemed deep in thought.

“So much of my grandpa’s life was wasted being angry at a man dead now for thirty years.

I think I’ll have a word with him about laying up treasures in heaven.

Again. And forgiveness. And thinking on things that are true and honest and just and pure and lovely and so on. ”

Josh knew that verse, for it had been one of Ma’s favorites.

He quoted it solemnly: “‘Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.’”

He considered it good advice.

Tilda said quietly, “Why does that make me think of Ben?”

“Probably because he was thinking on things that are false and dishonest, unjust and impure. Oh, all sorts of reasons it made you think of him.”

She gave Josh a wry smile. “I wonder if he really believes I’m his sister. Or was it all a lie? And if it was, what’s the point of it? I wonder about so much.” She touched the faint scar on her forehead. “If he made up that story about this scar, he’s a very talented liar.”

“The sheriff is looking into it. And the railroad will get the telegraph lines up and running. He can’t walk away from that fancy train of his. I mean, he can, but wherever he finally parks it, folks are gonna know who owns it and be able to track him down.”

Tilda met Josh’s eyes. “Let’s ride on.”

He nodded. “What are we looking for now, Lock?” Josh dug into his saddlebags and handed out jerky and biscuits he’d packed for the journey, several days’ worth.

“That arch of rocks, or some kind of arch.” Lock pointed west. “It’s said to be on west of here, but ‘on west’ is mighty vague.”

“We thought it was on a ... what did Ellie call it?” Thayne grabbed the food Josh handed back, then passed it on to Lock, who handed some to Cord. “She thought a river might’ve once run past this cave.” Thayne studied the copy of the map.

None of them had the originals since the paper Graham had drawn them on was too brittle.

But they’d replicated them. Brody had worked on the map he’d found at Mayhew’s house, glued beneath the inside front cover of an old leather book Graham had mailed the man who’d loaned him money thirty years ago.

Graham’s map was thirty years old, but if that journal was left by someone who sailed with Captain Cabrillo, it was closer to three hundred years old.

Mayhew’s book was a match for the journal Graham had mailed home to New York City before he’d died.

“A dry riverbed?” Josh asked, looking around.

“Over hun dreds of years a river can change course. I’ve heard their routes can be changed by floods, earthquakes, and landslides.

The ground is low here. I can imagine a river once running through here.

I think we should follow this westward for a while. ”

As they rode on, Tilda said, “If sailors found a river that led them inland, and they sailed along it, they may have come along this very path.”

“As a sailor, if I came upon a bay or got blown by a storm into one no one had ever heard of, and a river led inland ... I might’ve been tempted to follow the river.

I’d figure to turn around at some point, even if I had to sail alone all the way back to Mexico.

I’d see myself as a great explorer. That’s what Cabrillo and his men were, right?

Explorers? I’d imagine being named a hero even.

Especially if the land was as beautiful as California.

Yep, I can see letting my sails take me onward. ”

“Think of the history we might find. That’s where my imagination takes flight.”

“Think of the gold,” Lock said from behind. “Mountains of it.”

Josh glanced back. The trail had narrowed, and the boys now rode two abreast with Cord following behind.

“My grandpa Westbrook has spent his life daydreaming about a mountain of gold. It seems to me dreaming of it, thinking of it being kept from him, has soured him about most of what is a wonderful life. You boys see this as an adventure, one that’s fun and real interesting.

But don’t let it take over your life. Remember what’s important.

Faith and the people who love you and taking every opportunity to do good for others. ”

Josh looked back and saw Thayne nodding, and he noticed Lock roll his eyes.

Josh said a prayer for the boy with his wild desire to find treasure.

Finding it might well ruin him. Not finding it, if he couldn’t put it aside and get on with his life, that might ruin him as well.

It’d ruined Lock’s father, and it sounded like it had grated on Mayhew Westbrook too, with all his years of anger toward Graham MacKenzie.

As Josh followed a riverbed that took every ounce of his imagination to see, he wondered what the right thing was to say to Lock. And then he saw the arch. “Will you look at that.”

He felt everyone around him buzz with tension. Lock gasped.

A stone arch. A pretty thing about twice as high as Josh’s head as he sat on horseback.

“I’ve never seen such a thing,” Cord said. All three of the men riding behind Josh and Tilda caught up and stared at the arch.

“There are arches down the coast of California. I’ve seen a few of them with my own eyes.

But I thought they needed water to erode a hole in the rock.

Does this prove a river ran through here?

Or was it just wind and rain and soft rock that made it look this way?

That’s red sandstone, which would wear away over time if the conditions are right. Look, we can ride right through it.”

They all paused to marvel at the beautiful formation. Josh could imagine it long ago as a narrow wing of a rock wall. The west edge of it was solid rock, then the narrow stone arch curved down.

Finally, Josh said, “What next, Lock?”

Josh had studied the map too, but none of them knew it as well as Lock. Josh figured he’d defer to the expert.

“It looks like we ride through it, then on west.” Lock looked forward doubtfully. “Along this dry riverbed, if that’s what it is. And the next landmark is right by theX. Then we’ll reach the end of our map and, Cord, we’ll need to pick up with yours.”

Cord nodded in silence, his attention still on the pretty red arch.

“What’s the next landmark?”

“It’s never made much sense to me. It looks to be just a flat circle. So maybe a flat, round rock? It appears to block the trail.” Lock studied the map, then shook his head in frustration. “I hope it makes sense when we see it.”

“You said your grandpa was a sailor?” Josh asked.

“When he was young,” Lock said. “When he was a boy really, he sailed the oceans out of Scotland. I heard tales of it from my ma and Brody mainly. Pa once in a while. Now I wish I knew more.”

“So do I,” Thayne said, then added, “Maybe Brody can tell us stories. Let’s get on with our search. It doesn’t look like it goes on much farther.”

Josh led the way single file through the arch, ducking his head even though he thought he would have made it through without doing so.

Yet it was narrow enough he could have brushed the sides if he’d held his arms out straight on both sides.

He had to ride about ten steps in shadow before he came out the other side into the sunlight.

Once he was through, he looked back. Tilda didn’t duck.

Instead, she looked over her head and then side to side, as if to see every bit of the inner part of the arch.

As she emerged, Josh realized the day was wearing on, the sun getting low in the sky.

This time he was determined to stay with the search until they reached the end of both maps. He’d abandoned his ranch. Tilda had abandoned her teaching. The boys had abandoned their education, and Cord had abandoned his grandfather.

Not one of them felt any regret, except Josh suddenly had a twinge. He’d wanted to get away from the ranch to ensure Tilda’s safety, but now he felt guilty for not waiting for Brody to heal up. He was a part of this search for his family’s treasure, too.

He was honestly starting to believe in all of this.

Of course, he’d believed for a while now that Graham MacKenzie had found something .

The maps and the old journals and those fourteen gold doubloons were proof of that.

But Josh had decided Graham had found all the gold there was and brought it out.

Josh had decided they might find some old trace of the remnants of an ancient expedition.

But now ... that arch was such a marvel, it stirred a strange hope deep inside Josh.

He had to wonder what it was the old man had found.