Page 26 of Whispers of Fortune (Golden State Treasure Book #1)
T WENTY -S IX
Lock was so giddy, so full of excitement, he was practically bouncing from one landmark to the next. Brody kept his eye on the kid for signs of pain but couldn’t detect a single flinch. The kid had to be hurting, though. Brody still hurt, and he hadn’t been nearly as battered as Lock.
They’d planned to camp out tonight and search all day tomorrow. Brody hoped Lock had energy to spare for a second day of hunting.
“This has to be the rock formation Grandpa drew,” Lock said. He and Thayne rushed toward a strangely shaped stone about half as tall as them.
Ellie came up beside Brody, and they followed after the boys, all of them on foot. “Whether we find any treasure or not, the boys are enjoying every second of this.” He held up the map he’d drawn. “Does that look like this picture? Is it a rock formation?”
Ellie studied it. “Things change with the passage of time out here. Rocks get broken up by ice freezing and thawing. There are avalanches and rockslides. Up this high, a heavy snow can move massive stones, break off trees.”
Josh approached the rock the boys were dancing around. “If this is right, then what’s next? How far does the map take us?”
Brody shrugged a shoulder. “The dotted line winds north and then east from the green pond. This is the second picture Grandpa drew, and we’ve been walking and searching for a long time now.”
Josh clapped him on the back. “Let’s agree for now that this is the formation your grandpa saw and go on. If it doesn’t lead us anywhere, we’ll go back to the pond and try again. We’ve got two days. You’re thinking too hard.”
Brody arched a brow at Josh. “Thinking isn’t a bad idea, Josh. You should try it sometime.”
Josh laughed. Not an easy man to insult, it seemed. “Only as a last resort, MacKenzie. Now let’s head on from here.”
Lock pulled his own copy of the map out of his pocket. Brody had made two because he wanted to get the drawing more precise. In the end he decided to bring both copies along, even though they were very similar.
“Next we head along this stream.”
“Didn’t you say earthquakes could reroute the path of a stream?” He looked at Ellie.
“I did indeed. I’ve done some studying of dry creek beds. Lock has too for his cartography classes. We’ll follow this for now. I think I’d recognize an old creek if I looked closely. With thirty years’ worth of falling leaves and branches, it might be hidden.”
“This lowland we’re on is carved out by the San Joachin River, isn’t it? This little creek must flow into it.” Lock was thinking like a mapmaker.
Josh said, “The San Joachin is a little too far south for us. The Sacramento flows out of the state capital and heads to the ocean. It flows west and north, I think.” He looked at Ellie. “Do you know?”
“The American River flows west of Sacramento.” Ellie eyed the map. “It’s more likely this is the American River drainage region. And this little stream is too small to be the American, so yes, it’s a stream that drains into it or some other river. But nothing on this map looks like it leads to a big river. For now, let’s not worry about which river we’re dealing with.”
Lock said, “There are hundreds of streams that flow all over these mountains. It would be a good idea to spend time mapping this whole area. Or we can search through the maps you’ve got back at the house. See if such maps already exist.”
“We’ve got a lot of maps at the house,” Ellie said, “but I’m not sure what we’ve got for this area. We should have looked around to see what all we’ve got.”
“Too late for that now,” said Lock. “C’mon, everyone. Let’s follow the stream. If Grandpa drew the proportions true from one turning point to the next, we’ll be following this stream for a while. We’re searching for a clump of trees growing out of some boulders. We should be able to spot that.”
Lock and Thayne were off again. Brody exchanged a look with Ellie, then Josh. “I’m half exasperated and half thrilled. Let’s go.”
Cord smiled to think of how annoyed Grandpa Westbrook would be if he found out Cord wasn’t rushing to track down information about that stupid fable of MacKenzie’s Treasure.
He thought of that cranky old man and how alone he was and felt guilty. Whatever his temperament, the man loved Cord. And Cord knew it and returned that love. He never let a day pass, not even an hour, without praying that Grandpa would find some kind of peace in life.
Cord knew peace came from God. That was what Grandpa needed. And no one near him even tried anymore to reach the old man.
No one except Cord. And right now, this task might bring the old man some happiness, and maybe that would ease his mind enough to think of bigger things. Eternal things. Yes, it was time to go.
Even so, even knowing he should hurry, he walked leisurely to the water trough and dunked his head, enjoying everything about life on the farm.
As he lifted his head and flung water away, he saw his ma at the backdoor with a furrowed brow.
“Cord, come in here. We’ve got a telegraph from Grandpa Westbrook. He wants you back in Sacramento. It sounds urgent.”