Page 17 of Whispers of Fortune (Golden State Treasure Book #1)

S EVENTEEN

These three didn’t know just how big the West was.

Ellie trailed along beside Brody. Josh had thrown in with them because he refused to let Ellie ride out into the wilderness with three greenhorns and a strange map. Ellie thought that was wise. Josh was in the lead, Lock riding beside him, with Thayne just behind on the narrow trail.

They sure as certain didn’t know how big a mountain was. And Ellie didn’t know how to narrow their search.

The MacKenzies were never going to find whatever it was their grandfather had found unless they tripped and fell on top of it. And yet here they were riding east, chasing some clue Ellie found dubious about the mountain ahead. Ellie wished Michelle and Jillian were here. Those two had steel-trap minds; they’d be able to draw information out of the journal that none of the rest of them would recognize as important.

Usually, Michelle and Zane went to the lumber camp owned by Michelle’s family and stayed there about a month. It used to be that the Stiles family would run the lumber camp for about six months of the year. The camp would then close for the cold weather, and the Stiles would move to their home in San Francisco.

But since train tracks had been laid all the way to their mountain, they could extend their time, which meant the Stiles lumber dynasty made more money now than ever before because they were working nine months of the year. Ellie knew Michelle always itched to stay up there. She and Zane had agreed to be gone for a month, yet it was a bit longer every year.

Zane seemed to like it on the mountaintop too, but eventually he dragged Michelle home. Now that they had a baby coming, Zane liked it down here better. He thought ranch life to be superior to lumbering. And Michelle was a great help on the ranch, just because she was full of innovations and ideas. She spent time every day in a shed Zane had built, where she worked on new inventions. The baby would curtail that somewhat for a while, but Michelle did love to invent.

Yet they were needed in San Francisco as well during the winter. The rest of the family lived there and conducted important business that Michelle helped with. That meant another month gone.

They got along here without Zane, but they missed him. He was a skilled rancher and ran the Two Harts wisely. They all did better when he was around, although she sometimes sensed a little resentment in Josh, who’d done a fine job with the ranch but had to let go of the reins when Zane returned.

This winter Michelle’s sister, Jillian, and her husband, Nick, were coming to the Two Harts. They had a few construction projects to do here, such as improving the telegraph wire they’d had strung from Dorada Rio, and Jillian wanted to build a couple of bridges across creeks that tended to flood in the spring. She’d spoken of damming up one of the creeks to create a pond to be stocked with fish. Ellie couldn’t quite imagine that. How did you move fish without them dying when they were out of the water? She wasn’t sure what all they had in mind, but she liked fish and no one was better at creating things than Jillian, so Ellie decided she’d just stay out of the way and watch.

Ellie wondered what those two bright, curious women, and Zane too, would make of MacKenzie’s Treasure and that mysterious journal. No one knew this land better than them.

“What were the landmarks your grandpa mentioned again?” Ellie enjoyed listening to the MacKenzies talk about the journal, and she thought talking it through might kick up a few new ideas. “There was more than just talk of a mountain, right?”

Lock twisted in the saddle, his eyes shining with excitement over the hunt.

She sincerely hoped when they found out there was no treasure, he wouldn’t be too disappointed. Ellie liked to dream of treasure as much as anyone, but she was also a California rancher, which made her a realist. Finding hidden treasure didn’t happen very often, probably because it didn’t exist.

Then again, Graham MacKenzie had definitely found something.

“He mentions a spring that pours out of a crack in the mountain and cascades down into a small pond. He said it was summer, and the pond was as green as Loch Uaine.”

Brody interjected, “They say Loch Uaine is a mystical place. I for certain have never seen it, and I doubt Grandpa had ever seen it either. He was from a little town in the southern Scottish Highlands, while Loch Uaine is in the north. But it’s legendary for its beauty. The MacKenzies are pure Scottish, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”

“A green loch?” Ellie had heard of Scotland and its many lochs and rugged highlands.

“Loch Uaine means ‘Lake Green.’ They say the little people, elves and such, go there to wash their stockings, which has made the lake a turquoise color.”

Ellie laughed at the whimsy of it. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Our pa was born there, the youngest of eight children. His family came here to America when he was just a boy.”

“Eight children? Where were they when your pa ran off? All those aunts and uncles...”

Brody shrugged one shoulder. “Pa was a straggler, and several of his older brothers and sisters died back in Scotland. That was part of what drove Grandma and Grandpa to travel to America. They brought five children with them. One didn’t survive the crossing but died aboard the ship they sailed on. One was a daughter who was nearly an adult by the time Pa came along. She married and headed west on a wagon train with her husband, and one of my uncles went with them. The other one died fighting in the Civil War. I never knew him. They were all gone before I was born. And Pa was barely old enough to remember them leaving. I think that was part of what lured Grandpa west. He hoped to find some sign of his kids. I’m just imagining that, though. I never heard Grandpa speak of it.”

“We never knew our grandparents,” Thayne said. “Ma’s folks died before she married Pa, and Pa’s folks died before we came along.”

“I heard Grandma and Grandpa tell stories of the old country.” Brody shifted in his saddle. “They missed their home, but it was a hard life there and America beckoned them.”

“So your grandpa said there was a spring that poured into a little pond as green as Loch Uaine.” Ellie looked at Josh. “Does that sound familiar?”

“No,” Josh replied. “Lock, what else is in there?”

“He said to take on the mountain but watch for a broken monster tree. Not sure what that means.”

Josh nodded. “There are some huge trees out here. Sequoias mainly and redwoods, but usually they’re closer to the ocean. I suppose those would seem like monster trees to a man from New York.”

Ellie didn’t bother to mention the range of redwood trees along the western slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Anyway, it wasn’t much of a clue, as trees broke off all the time in storms and such.

“Well, we’re taking on the mountain. What are we to do when we see this broken monster tree?”

“He said there’s a trail there, rugged and narrow, that turns left at that tree. I wonder if that tree blocked the trail, or maybe his horse ran away with him. Grandpa was no more of a rider than we are. There are other clues as well.”

“Let’s hold off on them for now and instead keep an eye out for a tree that could be described as a monster.”

“The trouble with Grandpa’s clues is we’re mostly adding up little hints,” Brody said. “But it’s an arithmetic problem that doesn’t give enough information. We may be coming up with nothing but wrong answers.”

Thayne looked behind him at Ellie. “Thank you for letting us take your horses, Miss Ellie. We appreciate it. When we ran off before, the mountain seemed as though it was right in front of us. We had no idea how far away it really was.”

“You’re welcome, Thayne,” Ellie said. “You know, you’re getting to the age when you need to be thinking about what you want to do with your life. You’ve had a chance to work on the ranch. Do you like riding? Or we can focus on continuing your studies. You could become a doctor like Brody. We can get books on just about any subject, whatever interests you. Michelle and Jilly could work with you if you want to study arithmetic or science at a higher level. Laura is a chemist if you wanted to study that area of science.”

“All right,” said Thayne. “I’ll think about it.”

Ellie made them stop for the noon meal. The MacKenzies were going to be saddlesore after today, and a break from such a long ride was necessary, even if the men wanted to push onward.

Loyal strode into the Sacramento Straten, the finest restaurant in town, and shook hands firmly with the man Sonny had told him was the key, a man who’d expect his dinner companion to be well-dressed. For although he was a stranger, Loyal knew the type. “Mr. Westbrook, good to meet you.”

“Mr. Kelton. I’ve heard of your father over in San Francisco but never had the pleasure of meeting him.” Mayhew Westbrook had steely-gray hair with a bald dome. He stood up straight, unlike Father who was bent these days. He was dressed elegantly, so Loyal was glad he’d picked his best suit, even if it was uncomfortably tight.

Westbrook moved slowly as he led the way to the dinner table as two waiters, dressed in finery, held their chairs for them.

The clinking of silver utensils against china plates set the backdrop of the hushed room. Loyal quickly scanned the place, looking for anyone who might know Father.

Father likely hadn’t spoken of being punched. He’d always done his best to keep the family name out of any scandal. But men who knew Father might mention Loyal’s presence here with Westbrook, and Father might make it his business to reach out to Westbrook to spoil any business the man had with Loyal.

Loyal recognized no one, but he didn’t dare study the room overtly. Because he wasn’t sure how far gossip about his dismissal from the bank had traveled, he began with, “I’m on my own these days. Banking didn’t suit me. But I saw my father not too long ago. He’s doing well.” Not counting a bruised stomach.

“My grandson is working with me at my bank. It’s a fine profession. Maybe you’ll return to it one day.” Westbrook was old. Older than Father. And he had those same sharp eyes. The man was smart, but then no one could rise in the competitive banking world of California and not have a keen mind. Loyal didn’t underestimate the man.

Yesterday Loyal had contacted Westbrook and said, “I heard you’re on the trail of an old treasure, one I’ve also taken interest in. I love talking about the fables that fill the Rocky Mountains. Come and join me for lunch.”

Mayhew Westbrook had done his best to sound casual, as if buried treasure and lost mines were a simple pleasure. Even so, Loyal had read the change in his voice and knew the old man cared.

That’s why Loyal was here. Sonny had found just enough details to lead them to Westbrook.

As they settled in, a waiter served them coffee and took their orders. The two of them exchanged pleasantries, mostly about the weather. Loyal got the impression Westbrook didn’t give much away.

After their meals were served and they’d both had a few bites of tender roast beef, Loyal said, “I’ve come across rumors of an old mine claim registered to Graham MacKenzie. Included was your name, saying you were a stakeholder.”

Westbrook sat forward. “I did stake MacKenzie to a claim years ago, but then I never heard from the man again.”

Loyal didn’t believe the old man. He wasn’t telling the full truth. He remembered punching his father and wondered what more information there was to glean from Westbrook if a little force was applied.

“Can you tell me where this claim is?” Westbrook licked his lips in a way that indicated thirst to Loyal ... or was it hunger? “I’ve also heard a rumor or two, namely that MacKenzie had found something, but it’s not clear what exactly. Then only silence for years. I figured he headed back east or died. But he has family—they’d own that claim now. And that family owes me money.”

“I don’t have much information, Mr. Westbrook, just enough to believe such a claim exists.” The rumors had come to Sonny through Westbrook’s investigator. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised the whole thing has even a shred of truth. But I was in Sacramento, so I thought I’d look you up.”

“I wonder if the old prospector actually found something.” Westbrook seemed to look back through the years, probably remembering promises that had been made.

“Can I call on you again?” Loyal asked. “I can’t think of any way to get to the truth short of going from town to town and digging through old claim records. This is from thirty years ago. I suspect some of those towns with land offices no longer exist. It’s been interesting to go exploring, although I’m sure it’s pure folly. But if I find anything, I’ll remember your claim to it and bring what I find back to you.”

Westbrook’s eyes flickered with indecision for a moment. Then he answered, “My grandson, Cordell, is out following a clue I recently received about the MacKenzie family. I wish we could get this information to him; it might change the course he’s following.”

“Where is he? I’ve got some traveling ahead. If we happen to be in the same area, perhaps...” Loyal let his voice fade, hoping to have said enough but not too much.

“He’s south of here. Close to Lodi, I believe.”

“Lodi?” Loyal remembered the last time he’d been in Lodi. He’d run across his worthless fiancée ... former fiancée by then. Loyal had tried to win her back, hoping to restore himself in his father’s eyes.

Instead, he’d ended up running afoul of Beth Ellen’s brother Zane Hart—and her brother Josh too, though it was Zane who’d punched him. Loyal had found himself writhing on the ground below the train station platform. Ever since then, he’d longed to exact revenge on the whole family, especially Beth Ellen.

Westbrook nodded. “I got word that one of the MacKenzies, a grandson of the first MacKenzie, had been seen at the Two Harts Ranch.”

A wave of fury swept over Loyal.

Westbrook had been leaning forward in his urgency, but as his eyes sharpened on Loyal, the old man straightened in his seat.

Loyal felt the need to come up with some excuse and quick. He skirted close to the truth for simplicity’s sake. “I-I used to know Beth Ellen Hart. She lives on the Two Harts, or I should say she lived there a few years ago. I’ve lost track of her. I used to ... to have hopes for the two of us. I’m sorry to say she broke my heart. Ah, to be so young again.” Loyal laughed to dismiss it as if just a childhood romance. Unimportant now. That his interest in revenge and Sonny’s interest in treasure would intersect gave him a savage satisfaction.

Westbrook seemed to relax some. “Well, I won’t expect you then to go down there. I’m sure you don’t want to see her. If you find the location of that mining claim, I’d appreciate it if you’d wire me the information. I certainly don’t expect you to make another trip to see me. A telegram would be welcome, though.”

“I’ll most certainly do that,” Loyal promised.

“Now,” said Westbrook, grinning, “we can’t eat at the Sacramento Straten without trying their apple dumplings. They’re famous for them. They even make their own ice cream.”