Penny for your thoughts.”
Christy looked up in surprise. Neil was standing in the doorway of the classroom, holding another bouquet of violets.
He handed them to her. “Not wilted this time. I’m improving.”
“Thank you, Neil. They’re lovely.”
He leaned on the edge of her desk. “You looked about a million miles away just now.”
“I was. I let school out half an hour ago, and I’ve been sitting here ever since.”
“No problems with Lundy, I hope,” he said, clearly worried.
“No. He hasn’t shown up for school since the incident at the creek. From what I understand, he’s probably out prospecting. A lot of the children are.”
“What is it, then?” Neil touched her hand tenderly.
“It’s the gold. It’s been stolen. Right out of my trunk.”
“That’s all we need. Any suspects?”
“I’m afraid the most likely one has very red, very curly hair.” Christy rubbed her eyes. “I told Ruby Mae and Bessie and Clara today about the missing gold. Clara and Bessie almost seemed relieved, believe it or not. I think the pressure was getting to them. But Ruby Mae . . . well, she didn’t even blink. She was just a little too calm.”
“Maybe she didn’t take it.”
“Maybe. But I can’t see who else could have.”
“Give her some time. Maybe she’ll ‘’fess up’ all on her own.”
Christy went to the blackboard and started to erase the day’s work. “Who’d have ever dreamed a handful of rocks could be so much trouble?”
“That’s what they said in 1849 in California.”
“Well, we’re having our own Gold Rush of 1912.” She sighed. “What am I going to do, Neil?”
He gave her a hug. “Pass me an eraser,” he said.
“This here,” Clara said that same afternoon, “is the last official meeting of The Princess Club. What with us not being princesses no more.”
Ruby Mae sat on a bale of hay near the stable. The three girls had already fed Prince, Old Theo, Goldie, and Clancy. Now they were watching the animals munch contently on fresh grain and hay.
“Clancy looks to be gettin’ much better,” Ruby Mae said. “I wonder if’n Mr. Halliday will be movin’ on soon. You think?”
“Ruby Mae!” Bessie cried. “You sure are takin’ the news about the gold awful well. We ain’t princesses anymore. Don’t that bother you?”
“Sure it bothers me,” Ruby Mae said quickly. “But ain’t nothin’ we can do about it.”
“Still,” Clara pressed, “don’t you wonder who took it? Right out from under Miz Christy’s nose like that? Who coulda done such a thing?”
Ruby Mae stroked Prince’s warm, silky coat. She could feel her face heating up. Was Clara looking at her funny? Or was Ruby Mae’s guilt getting the better of her?
“Anybody could have sneaked into the mission house,” she said. “Ain’t like it’s locked up or nothin’.”
“Still, they would have had to know where to look,” Clara persisted.
“Easy enough to figure out where it was hidden,” Ruby Mae pointed out. “There’s only one thing with a lock on it in that whole house.”
“But then they had to find the key,” Bessie added.
“What does it matter?” Ruby Mae blurted. “Me, I’m plumb tuckered out, talking about that gold. If’n we ain’t goin’ to be princesses no more, let’s just start actin’ like plain ol’ regular people!”
“Ruby Mae!” Bessie grabbed her by the arm. “Hush! Look, over yonder!”
Bessie pointed a trembling finger at a stand of nearby trees. There stood Lundy Taylor. In the crook of his arm was a long hunting rifle.
Bessie gulped. “H-he’s got himself a gun!”
“Don’t pay him no never mind,” Ruby Mae said. “He’s probably just out huntin’ squirrels.”
Suddenly, as quickly as he’d appeared, Lundy vanished into the woods.
“See?” Ruby Mae said. “Don’t mean nothin’.”
“Still and all,” Bessie said, breathing a sigh of relief, “I’m just as glad to be rid of that gold. I didn’t need the likes of Lundy after me the rest of my days!”
“Yep,” Ruby Mae said, frowning. “I s’pose maybe you’re right about that.”
I thought I’d reached Ruby Mae.
Christy wrote in her diary that night. She paused, pen in hand, when she heard a howl coming from far off on the mountain. The woods were full of noises tonight. Even more than usual.
She turned to a fresh page.
Neil says to give it time, but how much time can I give it? Mr. Halliday will be leaving soon, and I’m more convinced than ever that the gold is his. But if I push Ruby Mae, I’m afraid she’ll deny what I’m all too certain is the truth: she took the gold. I suppose all I can do is pray. Perhaps the answer will come to me if I am patient.
When she finally set her diary aside and tried to sleep, Christy tossed and turned, just as she had the previous night. Every now and then she awoke to a sound from the outside. But eventually, she somehow managed to fall asleep again.
Her dreams were full of flutes made of silver and red-haired angels . . . There was something cold in her dreams, too, something cold, pressed against her temple. There were people with her, but these weren’t red-haired angels anymore. These people were dangerous. These people meant her harm . . .
Something clicked, like the sound of a rifle being cocked.
Christy’s eyes flew open. In the milky moonlight, she could see them plainly— Lundy Taylor and his father, Bird’s-Eye. Each one had a gun.
And they were both pointed straight at her.