Page 19 of Roughing It with the Rancher (Love Along Route 14 #11)
REESE
As some of the mariachi musicians tour the ghost town site while others work on beer and food, I straggle out a way to send a couple of texts. It occurs to me that my lovely bride has yet to enjoy a reception, cake, dancing, or any of the usual nuptial norms.
Enlisting everyone in town that I can think of, from the baker to the UFO hunters, ghost hunters, and my few remaining ranch hands, I come up with an action plan that should align perfectly with our arrival back on the ranch after lunch and whatever the bandmates would like to do in High Water.
As the vans open and more men pile out in their flashy costumes, they work quickly to put up a couple of shade tents before pulling out foldable chairs and turning up the booming music.
“Please have a seat,” the jovial man offers, gesturing to Esmeralda.
“Thank you, Manuel.”
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?”
I chuckle, still not ready to reflect too much on it.
“Well, I did let go of the handle, which I imagine was fairly helpful. But yeah, a close call for sure. All I can say is things have been looking up ever since my guardian angel and good luck charm arrived. Although I’m personally ready to be done tempting fate.
Instead, it’s time to focus on healing the land and starting a life together with lots of gorgeous babies and the woman I’ve been in love with since the second time I laid eyes on her. ”
Esmeralda’s eyes pool as she regards my face, whispering, “I love you, too, Reese.”
I raise my hand, palming her face and staring deeply into her turquoise eyes. “Something’s still not sitting right with you. Tell me what it is.”
She shrugs, looking a little defeated. “My grandpa. This was really more his dream than mine. How am I going to tell him I gave it away? “
“I understand how you feel, the weight of trying to please family even when it’s impossible.
But I truly believe this is for the best for you and me, this ranch, and your grandpa.
No telling what that treasure might do if it traveled back east. How about we take a bunch of photos to prove it’s real and send them his way? ”
I have something else in the works, too. My thoughts going to one last thing I need to negotiate with Manuel and his brother, Emiliano—a trip to Mexico City later for Esmeralda and her grandpa to see the treasure safe and secure in an exhibit.
The moment we turn down the long driveway to the ranch, Esmeralda realizes something’s up. “What are all these people doing at Gunner Ridge, Beefcake?” She eyes me curiously.
“Beefcake?”
“Yes,” she says innocently, fluttering her eyelashes at me. “I finally figured it out. Your customized nickname.”
“But why Beefcake?”
“Because you’re a cattle rancher with muscles for days, and all I can think about is eating you whole,” she whispers against the shell of my ear, filling my body with delicious waves of anticipation.
“Can’t argue with that.” My cheeks glow as the air-conditioned caravan parks, and we get out. People crowd around us, and Esmeralda’s jaw hits the ground. We make the rounds, and I introduce her to everyone, explaining my recent change in good fortune and marital status.
My wife’s eyes fill with tears when she sees the kitchen table decorated with a large cake and cupcakes, along with flowers, cards, and small gifts. Foxfire Valley outdid itself again, a community I can be proud of. One that wholeheartedly welcomes my new bride.
As the mariachi music rolls late into the evening and people dance outside, I savor the sensation of my wife snuggling in my arms, swaying gently to the music.
“I don’t know where you came from, Angel, although I have my suspicions.
But you’re without a doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to me. ”
“Despite the barn?”
“Blame that on the treasure.”
“And the hurt and bruised back?”
I nod.
“Despite the Caddy?”
“The only thing I miss about it was our radio station.”
“You’re a goner for me, Reese. That’s obvious.”
Drawing her tightly against me and whispering in her ear, I promise, “And you’re going to be a goner for me after everyone leaves.”
“Oh, yeah? What happens then?”
“I’m going to spread you out on the kitchen table like that fancy cake and devour you whole. Every naughty inch of you—especially the frosting—because you’re the luckiest flavor I’ve ever tasted, wife, and I can’t get enough.”
“I like the sound of that, husband.”