My, my, I never dreamed when I happened upon your mission house that I’d be met with such a welcoming committee!” Mr. Halliday exclaimed as he settled into a chair in the parlor two hours later. “And I must say again, that was the finest piece of apple pie I’ve ever had the pleasure of devouring!”
Miss Ida, David’s sister, handed him a cup of tea. “It’s an honor to have you as a visitor, Mr. Halliday.”
“Miss Ida’s right,” Christy said. “Imagine us hosting a man who’s photographed the Wright brothers and Ty Cobb and even President Taft himself!”
“No longer, Christy. My professional days are past. I met many interesting folks along the way. A few scoundrels, too, come to think of it. I worked hard and made plenty of money. Now I take the photographs I want to take. Mountains are much more interesting subjects than people. Sit still longer, too.”
“How long can you stay, Mr. Halliday?” Miss Alice asked.
“Oh, I can’t impose. Just until Clancy heals up.”
“You should know that the road to El Pano is blocked,” David said. “Rockslide. Happens all the time in these parts.”
“I’m headed in that general direction,” Mr. Halliday said. “But I don’t mind a detour or two. I enjoy stopping here and there to say hello. People around these parts strike me as the salt of the earth. Decent, kind. If a little shy.”
“They are fine people,” Miss Alice agreed, “despite their hard lives.”
Mr. Halliday nodded sympathetically. There was a kindness about him that had made Christy instantly like him. Everyone seemed to like him, in fact—except, perhaps, Ruby Mae and her friends, who hardly said a word during supper. And now they seemed to have vanished from the house.
“I’ve encountered such poverty in these hills,” Mr. Halliday said. “You have your work cut out for you.”
“Poverty, but dignity, too,” Christy said. “When I first came here, the hunger and ignorance and pain really frightened me. But then I started to see the goodness in these people.”
“I’m sure life here can be very trying,” Mr. Halliday said. “Living without hope is a hard thing indeed.”
“Of course, hope can turn up in unlikely places,” Christy said. “For example, the bottom of a creek.”
“A creek, you say?”
“It seems Ruby Mae and the other girls you met came upon some gold nuggets the other day.”
Mr. Halliday went very still. He cast a sharp glance at Christy. “Some . . . gold?” he repeated softly.
“We’d hoped to keep it quiet, but of course the whole Cove’s abuzz with the news,” Christy said.
“The prospect of that kind of wealth,” Miss Alice added, “in a place like Cutter Gap—well, you can imagine the excitement it’s kindled.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Halliday said.
David grinned. “Ruby Mae told me she hopes to buy a companion for our horse Prince.”
“A friend for Prince?” Mr. Halliday echoed.
“She’s quite the horse buff, you see.”
“And Clara’s even talking about going to medical school,” Christy said. “Of course, their parents will have their own plans for the money.”
Mr. Halliday set down his teacup. The china rattled slightly. “Yes,” he said, “I imagine they would.”
“Naturally, we’re all curious as to where the gold came from,” Miss Alice said. “After all, Tennessee isn’t exactly known for its gold mining. And the nuggets had to come from somewhere.”
Mr. Halliday nodded slowly. “Well,” he said, “you know what the Bible says—‘With God all things are possible.’” His voice trailed off.
“It’s quite possible someone will still show up to claim the gold,” David said. Then he shook his head. “But I’d certainly hate to be the one to deliver that news to Ruby Mae and her friends.”
Mr. Halliday stared out the window, stroking his beard. For the first time since his arrival, he’d fallen silent.
“Mr. Halliday?” Christy asked.
“Hmm?”
“Are you feeling all right?”
Mr. Halliday waved his hand. “Of course. Just a little tired, after all my wandering.”
For a moment, Christy wondered if she should have mentioned anything to Mr. Halliday about the gold. Something about the sharp way he’d looked at her made her uneasy . . . especially since the nuggets were hidden right here in the mission house.
On the other hand, he was bound to hear about them, anyway. If he was going to be staying here at the mission, Ruby Mae would tell him soon enough.
One thing was certain. Christy was going to feel much better when the gold was safely locked in that bank safe in El Pano.
She was a teacher, after all, not a banker.
From her perch on the stairs, Ruby Mae listened to the grownups talking in the parlor. Bessie and Clara sat on the stair below her. They’d been eavesdropping for what seemed like hours. And the more they listened, the more Ruby Mae wished they hadn’t.
She had a bad feeling growing in her stomach faster than a spring weed. She didn’t like bad feelings. And she didn’t like feeling confused.
Mr. Halliday had been looking for something, he’d said.
Mr. Halliday had been near a rocky creek when Clancy had gone lame.
Mr. Halliday was the kind of man who might have lots of cash-money. Maybe even gold.
Clara sighed loudly. “It just don’t make any sense, Ruby Mae. If’n the gold belongs to Mr. Halliday, why didn’t he just up and say something when Miz Christy told him about it just now?”
“Come to think of it, he did sound a little funny when she brought it up,” Bessie said. Her eyes went wide. “I have an idea. . . .”
“Uh-oh,” Ruby Mae said.
“Maybe he stole the gold, and that’s why he can’t own up to it!”
“Or maybe we’re just imagining things,” Ruby Mae said. “Maybe it ain’t his gold at all.”
“Still,” Clara continued, “he could have been up near Dead Man’s Creek. And he was lookin’ for somethin’. It is kind of a . . . what’s the word Miz Christy taught us? A coincidence.”
“He had his chance to claim the gold just now,” Ruby Mae argued. She hated it when Clara got to thinking too much.
“Maybe you’re right,” Clara said, chewing on a fingernail thoughtfully.
“’Course I’m right.”
“So then where did the gold come from?” Clara asked.
“You heard Mr. Halliday. Maybe God put it there for us to find. Like a miracle. You don’t go askin’ questions about miracles, Clara. You just say ‘Thank you kindly’ and feel mighty grateful.”
“How come you happen to know so much about miracles?” Bessie asked.
“Because I been prayin’ for one my whole life, that’s how come.” Ruby Mae stood, brushing off her dress. “Besides, it don’t matter who the gold used to belong to. It’s ours now. Finders, keepers. That’s the rule.”
“Finders, keepers,” Clara repeated, as if she were trying to convince herself.
“Trust me,” Ruby Mae said. “That gold was meant for us to have.”