Page 25

S eventeen

The sun was setting on a long, tedious day of fighting their way west along land that Tilda, using her most vivid imagination possible, might be able to see as a riverbed that had dried up hundreds of years ago. She was exhausted and hungry and demoralized, about ready to demand they stop.

And then she saw something that didn’t seem entirely natural.

“What in the world is that?” Tilda pointed at a ... a circle.

A circle just like on the map. It wasn’t a natural formation, for it was hanging from a tree, lashed there about ten feet up. Reddish in a way that...

“Is that thing rusty?” She rode up to it, staying well back but close enough to study it. She’d seen pictures in paintings and books that told her... “Yep, that’s a shield! The kind the conquistadors wielded.”

She tore her eyes away from the shield and looked at Josh, who was riveted on the circle that as good as barred their path.

They could have gone around it, of course.

They weren’t on a trail, but rather following the bed of a long-gone river.

There was a circle drawn on Graham MacKenzie’s map close enough that they had to be in the place he’d marked.

After the circle, the map ended, and the other map, Cord’s map, began.

Then Tilda looked at Lock, whose eyes grew wide, while Thayne studied the landmark through narrow eyes. Cord, who was shaking his head and leaning forward to rest his forearm on the saddle horn, said, “It’s real then. There’s a treasure.” Cord closed his eyes and bowed his head.

Tilda wondered if he was praying.

Josh swung down from the saddle and tied his mount well away from the shield, if that’s really what it was.

Tilda followed suit and only then realized that every muscle in her body ached.

Including some she didn’t know she had. She added it to the renewed aches from jumping out of a train, almost sinking to her knees.

Yet she forced herself to remain standing because she wanted to get a closer look at the shield.

She walked forward, Josh at her side, along with Lock and Thayne, who moved as one toward the iron circle.

She studied a mass of rust. It was badly damaged, but looked like something that was ancient.

In addition to that, it had been hanging between two trees for thirty years . .. or maybe three hundred years.

“I know something about iron,” Josh said.

“It doesn’t rust through easily. My guess is, this was buried, or partly buried, around here somewhere.

And your grandpa Mackenzie found it and hung it up there to mark this spot.

I’d say he found this shield right here.

Or maybe he found something here he wanted to make sure and find again. ”

“That’s a lot of guessing,” Cord said. “I want it to be true, but we need to keep our minds open.”

Lock said, “It’s late. Let’s camp here for the night, then search some more in the morning. Spend a day trying to figure out why that shield is hanging there. Why Grandpa might have wanted us to stop here.”

Josh nodded. “You’re right—let’s set up camp. Maybe we’ll have the energy to hunt more after a meal.”

Tilda turned to her husband, who had been leading them in their painstaking search all day. She knew he said this about hunting with more energy for her benefit. It swept through her mind that she loved him.

It was too soon for her to feel such a thing. And she knew she’d been lonely all of her life. Even after she’d been adopted. Maybe especially after. She wondered at the strength of her feelings, yet she didn’t doubt them.

For now, though, she wouldn’t tell him. It felt pathetic somehow. Desperate. Something a terribly lonely woman would do. Fall in love over the course of a few days with a man just because he’d showed her simple kindness.

Even knowing that, the feeling became like a low-burning fire in her chest. She knew, whatever the future held, she’d cling to that feeling. Cherish it. And know that she’d loved someone. Loved Josh. And what’s more, she knew she’d love him for the rest of her life.

Dismounting, leading her horse after Josh’s, she tied the gentle mare to a tree branch.

“I’ll get our horses settled,” offered Josh.

“Strip the leather, make sure they graze for a bit. You should lie down, Tilda. I know you’re hurting and exhausted.

Anyone would be after what you endured yesterday.

You rode for hours today—go rest now. It would give me great pleasure as your husband to care for you tonight. ”

As the others got busy setting up camp, he walked toward her to remove her mare’s reins from the branch. He then stepped closer, and she didn’t think that was an accident. Shielded from the others by the big bodies of their horses, she kissed him.

Drawing back, she saw the delight in his eyes.

There was no way to tell him of her love. Not now. Not in front of the MacKenzies and Cord. But she met his eyes with her own. This time he bent down and kissed her back. Kissed her deeply.

She loved him and, if God was merciful, would have the rest of a long life to show him just how much.

He drew back and pointed. “Rest there for a bit while I build us a fire. I’ve got the makings of a stew.

We’ve got plenty of water, too.” He nodded to his left, and her gaze was drawn to a small spate of water gushing from a stone.

She hadn’t noticed it. She was sadly lacking in the knowledge a body needed to survive in the wilderness.

But she had Josh. He’d take care of them both.

But right now, his eyes were on her. His words were for her. She closed her eyes as if she could capture the kindness in his gaze and keep it inside her. Nodding, she said, “Thank you, Josh. I feel near collapse.”

“Sitting in the saddle for hours is different from sitting on a soft blanket in front of a warm fire. Trust me on that.”

She did trust him. She laid her hand against his cheek for just a moment. “Thank you,” she said again.

Tilda then moved to the place he’d indicated to rest for a while. And that was the last thing she remembered before Josh woke her up, holding a bowl of hot stew in the twilight.

* * * *

Once Josh and the others had finished setting up camp, he gathered wood for the fire. He was careful to clean out an area where the woods wouldn’t catch fire. Soon he had a blaze going, and he’d done it all quietly while his sweet wife slept.

Lock brought a bucket of water from the nearby spring, Thayne just behind him with a coffeepot.

Josh started dicing up strips of jerky, then added an onion and potatoes he’d hauled along. Minutes later, the stew was steaming over the fire, though the vegetables needed a little more time to get tender as the jerky released its flavor into the stew.

The boys were walking around the campsite, studying the ground, talking quietly to each other.

Then everyone gathered to eat, all of them famished. They ate quickly, then went right back to their searching.

Cord studied the shield, if that’s what it was. It was hanging rather high, at eye level, yet Cord was a tall man. “Tilda, come and look at this.” Cord reached for the shield, but then stopped before touching it, his finger moving back and forth an inch away as if tracing something.

Josh couldn’t resist going to see what Cord was looking at.

Tilda had been helping them search the area. Josh saw lines of fatigue etched on her face, and he had to clamp his mouth shut to keep himself from fussing over her and urging her to lie down again. In truth, she’d been walking more to stretch her legs than to do any searching.

Josh focused on the circular shield, and when Tilda came close, it was high enough she couldn’t get much of a look at whatever Cord wanted her to see.

Josh eyed a good-sized rock, but not so big he couldn’t move it, off to one side of the shield. He went and pushed it over so that Tilda could step on it and get high enough to look at the shield.

He knelt on another stone. When he sat back on his heels to ease his weight off the rock, he saw something that was not a stone. “Everyone, over here.” His tone snapped their attention to him. He wasn’t watching the MacKenzies, but he heard them coming.

Tilda rounded the shield and gasped. “That’s a helmet. Again, the kind the conquistadors wore.” Tilda knelt beside Josh. Cord was only a second behind her, dropping to look at the object, which was metal and curved and blackened with age. It was definitely iron.

“A Spanish helmet from that time had a unique crest on top that went from side to side.” Tilda bent low and brushed at the dirt on its front.

“Some of them had a face mask with openings for the eyes and mouth. Some had a T between the eyes to cover the nose and mouth.” She leaned back and pointed. “This has that T shape.”

Josh felt his heart speed up. “This is the place, then?”

Cord said, “Not for the treasure. We haven’t even begun traveling the stretch of trail on my half of the map. But it does look like a promising find.”

Josh looked at Cord, then at Thayne, then Lock. “We’ve got it, or a good part of it. Your grandpa called this a treasure. He sent us right to it.”

Tilda nodded. “No doubt he’s the one who hung the shield here. He found that and the helmet, and almost certainly something else or he wouldn’t have drawn two maps. He hung the shield to mark the spot, then dragged that stone over at least part of what he’d found.”

As she reached for the helmet, Josh saw her hands trembling. He laid a hand on her wrist. “Is it too delicate to move?”

She pulled back her hand, then looked around their tight little group.

“I think it’s strong enough to be moved.

It doesn’t look as worn and rusted as the shield, which has been hanging in the open air for at least thirty years.

Yes, I think we can move it. Thayne, Lock, you do it. This is your treasure hunt.”

Thayne and Lock exchanged looks, then the two of them reached forward.