Page 25 of Whispers of Fortune (Golden State Treasure Book #1)
T WENTY -F IVE
Brody rode beside Ellie with Thayne and Lock ahead of them. Josh led the way.
The sun wasn’t quite up yet, but the sky was no longer black, and this first part of the trail was familiar. They were making good time.
“I hope when we get there,” Brody said, “that the map makes more sense.”
Ellie turned to give him an encouraging grin. “We’ll figure it out. We’ve got the whole weekend, and the weather is warm.”
“Down here it is. You said yourself it starts snowing in the highlands by September. And we’re there.”
It had been two weeks since they’d found the map. Lock had fussed plenty but had needed the time to heal, a fact he’d finally admitted. Even now the boy limped. His knee was slow to improve. But his ribs had quit hurting mostly, and his shoulder was functioning with only minimal pain. All the scrapes and bruises had faded to a sickly yellow.
“Josh hopes we’ll get to the green pond before noon,” Ellie said. “Now that we know where we’re headed, he won’t need to study the trail or second-guess himself. Then we’ll have all day today and tomorrow to find what your grandpa wanted us to find.”
“That journal dug into Pa like a thorn, and he couldn’t get it out of his skin. He held off for three years or so. He tried to convince Ma he should go, search for Grandpa, but we all thought he must be dead or he’d’ve written again or sent for us.”
“Did he consider taking you all west with him? The whole world was heading west on wagon trains by then.”
“I don’t remember that. I just remember Pa getting more and more fascinated by the journal. He read it over and over. Finally, one day he just up and left.”
Brody saw his brothers glancing back at him. Had they heard all this before? They’d certainly heard a lot of it.
“I was seven by then, and Theresa was four. Just before Pa ran off, he told Ma he’d find Grandpa or MacKenzie’s Treasure and come back for us. Five years later he came back. Theresa had died. Pa was a defeated, broken man. Skin and bones. His temper was ... uncertain.”
Brody thought that was a nice way of saying his pa had snapped, was shouting at everything, complaining and grumbling, and he’d started drinking.
“Even with his being a different man, things were better with him there. At least there was food and coal in the winter once he settled in and went back to work. He’d given up on the journal. Ma cared about him, and despite her anger at being abandoned and his short temper, things were better for a while. I reckon Ma and Pa were getting along well enough because Thayne and Lock were born. We got by for a few years, but then he started reading the journal again and muttering to himself about treasure. Before long, Pa rode off again. I was old enough to work by then. Ma found a better job than taking in washing. She cooked at a hotel. The boys were old enough for school, so she didn’t have to leave them alone when she went to work. That was one of the reasons she’d taken in washing. Theresa and I were too young to leave, and no one would let her bring me or Theresa along. The rest you know—medical school, Ma dying, Pa kicking the boys out, the orphan train, Pa dying.”
Josh called out, “I can see the trail that leads down to the green pond. We’re almost there.”
Lock grinned and wriggled in the saddle.
“And then I came hammering on your door, and you’ve been witness to all the rest of our MacKenzie madness,” Brody finished.
Minutes later, they reached the bottom of the trail and rode straight to the green pond.
“Let’s put up our horses, everyone.” Josh dismounted, and the rest of them followed suit. “We can then spend some time with the map and figure out where to go next.”
Lock laughed and rubbed his hands together. “We’re gonna find that treasure—I can feel it!”
“I really have to go, Rosa Linda.”
Rosa Linda Rycoff’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “Not now. Please, just a little longer.”
“I can’t stay much longer.” But hadn’t the Lord called her to care for orphans?
Maybe, but these weren’t the right orphans.
She recognized the hypocrisy as it flitted through her mind.
“I’ve got the meal going now. I’ll take over the babies. You tend to the lessons.”
Tilda smelled cabbage soup, again. She hadn’t figured out if cabbage was all they had? Or was it all Rosa Linda knew how to prepare?
Tilda fought down the urge to offer to make the next meal. Already she was a nanny and a teacher. She did laundry and cleaned up after the meals. She wiped faces and mended clothes. Everything was badly needed. Honestly, she was bringing order to the Child of God Mission.
“How could your friend have abandoned you like this? I’m sure her mother needs her.” In fact, Tilda had begun to doubt there was a mother. Rosa Linda’s helper had run away, and Tilda couldn’t blame her. At the same time, she’d’ve liked to hunt that faithless “helper” down and give her a sound thrashing.
“To leave you with twenty children, four of them babies? It’s unconscionable.” There were two equally fussy baby girls in Rosa Linda’s room.
Rosa Linda’s shoulders slumped. “I haven’t been here that long. I think she knew I couldn’t manage, but she was so desperate to get away.”
“Do you think she’s coming back? I mean, honestly?”
Rosa Linda’s eyes darted to Tilda. “What? Of course Sister Agatha is coming back.”
“Sister? She’s a nun?” Tilda abandoned her plans to thrash a nun. For now. “And she abandoned you? Isn’t this mission affiliated with a church? Nuns usually have a church that helps oversee missions. Can we check and see if they’ve got any spare nuns?”
“I suppose the church we’re connected to sends over the food. I just walk out the back door each morning, and the food’s waiting there. I never see who brings it.”
“Well, I’m going to rise early tomorrow and keep watch. We need to get someone else in here.”
“Miss Tilda, can you help me?” Little Bobby, who didn’t know what his last name was but could spell his first, waved his pencil at her.
Rosa Linda called him Bobby Smith. Tilda hated the ordinariness of that, but she went along with it, having no idea what else to do.
“Let’s see what you’re working on, Bobby.” There were two tables in the small room—eight girls around one table, eight boys around the other. None of the children was older than ten. And they were small and hungry looking and given to squabbling.
Which probably described Tilda and Rosa Linda, too.
Rosa Linda had thrown a blanket on the floor, and all four babies sat there or crawled under the tables. Two of them could pull themselves to their feet. A door led to the kitchen, which was kept firmly closed so that, except for maybe getting stepped on, the babies were reasonably safe.
Rosa Linda was after the babies while Tilda helped children she didn’t know with education levels she had no idea about, while cabbage soup simmered in the kitchen. Tilda was hungry enough it smelled pretty good.
She’d learned during her hard, lean growing-up years that hunger made the finest seasoning.
While she helped Bobby, who was struggling to shape his letters correctly, Tilda watched Rosa Linda wrangle the babies and help the girls study and check the soup a few times in addition to everything else.
Tilda’s hand crept up to her throat as she thought of all that could have happened to Lock and Thayne.