The spot was perfect for a camp. Close to the road, but with enough cover that no one else would be able to see the wagon unless he came looking for it. A rocky shelter for the fire and protection from the wind if it picked up. As Travis climbed from the wagon, he saw the remains of a fire on the ground. Others had used the site in the past.
Travis walked around it slowly, checking it carefully. No rocks for snakes to hide under, no signs of scorpions or tarantulas. The ground was free from debris. The others who had used the spot had cleaned up after themselves, so that there was nothing left to draw insects or scavengers.
“We’ll spend the night here,” said Travis. “I’ll unhitch the horses and get them fed and watered.”
“I could start a fire,” said Crockett.
“Fine. Just not too big.” He grinned. “Though I doubt you’ll find any firewood close by or enough to make a big fire.”
“Why?”
“Somebody else will have already picked it up.”
She shrugged. She moved around the rock and then began walking along, searching for firewood.
Travis unhitched the horses and lead them around behind the wagon. He got them some water and then opened one of the sacks of oats for them. With the horses taken care of, he dropped back to the ground.
Crockett had found a little wood and dropped it at the point where the other fires had been built. “You’re right. That’s all I could find.”
“Wait here,” said Travis. He climbed up over on outcropping of rock and swept the area there. He picked up a couple of logs and dragged them over. He pushed them to the ground below and scrambled down after them. Using the ax, he cut them in pieces and then stacked them over the wood that Crockett had found.
Travis worked to get a fire started as Crockett crouched close to him. She watched him light the wood, shielding the tiny flame with his hands as it began to spread.
“There.”
“What are we going to eat?” she asked.
“Beans,” he said. He stood and moved to the wagon, found a pot and the beans. He prepared them, dumped them into the pot, and carried it to the fire, setting it in the center of it.
Grinning, he said, “Maybe not the tastiest of meals, but it will be filling.”
She sat down on the sand and stared into the flames. She was quiet for a moment and then looked up at Travis. “What are you going to do with your share of the gold?”
Travis shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it.” He glanced at her and said, “When I heard your father talking about it, I didn’t believe it. I’ve heard stories of lost treasures all my life and have never seen anything to prove that there are lost treasures.”
“You’ve never told me exactly what happened to my father,” she said.
“You never asked.”
She nodded slowly and then said, “I’d like to know. Exactly.”
Travis continued to stare into the fire. He was watching the beans. Finally he said, “I don’t know exactly what happened. I found him in an alley.”
“With two other men.”
“With two other men,” repeated Travis. They were trying to get him to give up the map.”
“Which he didn’t have,” said Crockett.
“He told them he had it memorized. There was nothing written down.”
“And you chased them away,” she said.
“Well, when I stepped into the alley, they took off. Your father had been stabbed.” He didn’t tell her that he watched them stab her father, or that he had been wandering the streets without his pistol. If he’d had a weapon, he might have prevented the stabbing. He didn’t want her to know how inept he had been.
He picked up a thin stick and stirred the coals of the fire. If he’d had his pistol, he could have prevented the death of the old man. But he had chosen to leave it because he’d used his pistol too often at Gettysburg. There he had killed men because they were wearing gray uniforms. He’d killed on order and had been sickened by it. He didn’t want to have to kill again, and by leaving his pistol behind, he had managed to avoid having to kill, but someone had still died.
“You couldn’t get a doctor?”
“No time,” said Travis. “He told me to tell you, take his belongings to you, and let you know what had happened. No time to get a doctor. He knew that. Told me that there was no time to get a doctor.”
“Why would they kill him?”
“I don’t know,” said Travis. “Maybe they were just trying to scare him. Learn where the gold was hidden and somehow it got out of hand. Gold does that. It makes people do stupid things.”
She continued to stare at Travis. “Gold didn’t do that to you.”
“Maybe because I still don’t believe it.”
“Then why are you here?”
Travis shrugged again. What could he say. He was there because he had nothing else to do. He was there because he felt he owed the old prospector something because he hadn’t stopped the men from stabbing him. He was there because Emma Crockett was a good-looking young woman who needed his help. He was there as a way of paying back the prospector. He hadn’t been able to save him, but he might be able to save his daughter. There was no good answer to her question. Or at least no answer to her question that he cared to give her.
He reached out and pulled the pot of beans from the fire. He looked down into it and said, “Looks like dinner is ready.” He used a wooden spoon to stir it.
She ignored that and asked, “What was my father saying? I mean, what did he tell the men about the gold?”
Travis set the pot on the ground. He rocked back so that he was sitting there, looking at her. “He was in a saloon getting the men to buy him drinks by telling them about the Spanish gold. He’d tell a little bit of it and stop until someone bought a drink. He told them everything including the fact that he had seen the gold himself.”
“Did you see the two men there? Listening to his stories?”
“I saw them.”
“Then you could recognize them,” she said.
“If I saw them again, I would recognize them,” he said.
She nodded and said, “Then we should find them and see that they are hanged. They murdered my father.”
“Well,” said Travis.
There was now steel in her voice. “They should be hunted down and jailed. They murdered a man.”
“You don’t want to let revenge color your thinking,” said Travis. “It could turn you into a bitter woman.”
“All I want is justice. Once we have the gold, we’ll have the money to search for them.” She looked up at him and said, “That’s what I’m going to buy with my gold. Justice for my father.”
Travis wiped a hand over his face. He reached out for the pot with the beans. They were still bubbling slowly. “That’s a job for the marshal.”
“My father was a gentle man. He might have told tales for free drinks, but what’s the harm in that? It’s no reason for two men to kill him.”
“Those men could be anywhere now. A couple days ride and they’re into desolate country. It would be impossible to find them,” said Travis.
“So we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re suggesting here?”
Travis could tell that she was becoming angry. He said, “We’ll try, but it shouldn’t become a life’s work.”
“What else is there?” she asked. “Now?”
“There’s getting married and raising a family.”
“That an offer?” she asked suddenly.
Travis felt his stomach flip over. He didn’t know if it was excitement at the prospect. Or the fear of it. “No. Just an alternative.” He looked into the pot of beans again, suddenly not very hungry. He turned toward her and said, “I’m only suggesting that people who allow themselves to be consumed with a mission, no matter how right that mission might be, become something less than human.” The image of the dead men at Gettysburg flashed through his mind.
“I don’t need you to teach me about being human,” she said. “You’re little more than an opportunist, hanging on because I might be able to lead you to the gold.”
“The gold isn’t that important,” said Travis, wondering if she would believe him. He kept his eyes on the beans, wondering if what she said was true. Was he there because of the gold, or was he there because he felt guilty about letting the old man get killed?
She laughed. “That’s what everyone says. They don’t believe the story and the gold isn’t important, but the next thing you know, they’re out there searching. Just like those men you saw in El Paso. Didn’t believe Dad’s story, but they were there just the same.”
Travis sat quietly for a moment and then said, “I’m only here because you asked for my help. I still don’t believe we’ll find anything of value, even after seeing that diary. Just because it’s a diary, it doesn’t follow that it has to be true. Everyone assumes that what was written a hundred years ago, two hundred years ago, has to be true, but that man might have had a dozen other reasons for lying. Maybe he wanted people to settle in this region. Tales of gold would certainly spark the interest.”
“Why would he want that?” asked Crockett.
“I don’t know. Maybe the Spanish king had given him large tracts of land here and the only way he could make any money on it would be to get people to move into Texas so that the Spanish wouldn’t try to take the territory back. Maybe he thought that getting people into the region would keep it all out of the hands of foreigners.”
‘Tomorrow,” she said, looking right at him, “you can return to El Paso if you want. You’re not required to follow me into the desert. I’ll take care of this myself.”
“And just how long will you survive out here by yourself?”
“I can take care of myself,” she said. “I’ve been doing it since I was twelve years old.”
“Living in a cabin at the edge of a town is different than surviving in the desert. If you don’t know what you’re doing, the desert will kill you. And if it doesn’t, there are Apaches out there.”
“The Indians are not hostile.”
“The hell,” said Travis. “If they want to do something, they’re going to do it. They don’t even need a reason.”
“I said you’re free to go.”
Travis stirred the beans and lifted a spoonful to his lips to see how hot they were. Ignoring her last statement, he said, “We can eat now.”
“Fine.” She didn’t speak for a moment and then asked, “What are you planning to do in the morning?”
Travis glanced at her and thought it would be very easy to leave her alone in the desert. He could ride into El Paso and have a good time. A little whiskey, a willing woman, and then out on the trail again.
But he just couldn’t leave Crockett. He still felt he owed it to the old prospector to stick it out. He had to protect the old man’s daughter. A week, ten days would be all that it would take before she was tired of the desert. It didn’t take the desert long to sap the strength of the unwary. It had chased strong men out in less than a week. It had killed strong men in a day.
“If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’ll stay with you until we either find the gold or abandon the search.”
“The gold is there,” she said. “Sure,” said Travis.
“Sure it is.”