Page 33 of The Last Mile


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“Yes, ma’am, that’s about it.” Dobbie led the way back to his front door. “I wish y’all good luck in your travels. But you best be careful. Lots of folks go in and don’t never come back out.”

The ominous words stayed with Abby as she climbed into the Ford Explorer.

The engine started, and Gage pulled onto the road. “You heard what the man said. Lots of people go in and never come out. It’s not too late for you to change your mind.”

Abby just laughed. “Not on your life. I didn’t come all this way to turn around and go home.”

Gage shook his head, but she caught his smile.

“It was worth a try.” He increased his speed, pushing the Explorer faster down Apache Trail toward the ranch. “Mateo is also digging around today. We’ll talk after supper, make our final plans. If everything falls in line, we’ll head into the mountains first thing tomorrow morning.”

A thrill shot through her. Her dreams of adventure and finding treasure were getting closer.

Then she thought of the ruthless men they had left in Denver. Could their attackers have followed them?

Just how far would they be willing to go to find the Devil’s Gold?

* * *

There was a new car in the parking lot when they arrived at the ranch, a white Chevy Suburban with Arizona rental plates. Walt was showing the latest guests, two men in jeans and bill caps, to the cabin formerly occupied by the middle-aged couple celebrating their anniversary.

When it was time for supper, Gage walked Abby to the ranch house, but the men weren’t among the group seated at the long wooden dining table.

“I don’t see the new arrivals,” Abby said to him as he sat down beside her, their plates overflowing with baked potatoes and rib-eye steaks cooked outside on the grill. “You don’t think they could have come from Denver and followed us down here?”

Gage sliced into his meat, cooked nice and rare. “It wouldn’t be easy to track us, but it’s possible.”

“I didn’t get a good look at them when we pulled in, but even if I had, I don’t think I’d be able to recognize them as the men from Denver.”

“I talked to Walt. He said they came up from Phoenix. Since they’re driving a rental, that probably means they flew into Sky Harbor.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I know what you mean.” He swallowed another tender bite of steak. “We’ll keep an eye on them, at least until we leave.”

They finished their meat and potatoes, and a piece of Mae’s chocolate cake for dessert. Afterward, Gage walked Abby to his cabin, and Mateo joined them there.

“A couple of new guests arrived today,” Gage said to his friend as they sat down in front of the old iron stove. “I don’t like the timing, or the fact they didn’t show up for supper, but it doesn’t mean they’re here because of us. We’ll be gone first thing in the morning. Walt and Kyle know we’re heading into the mountains from the east, but the wrangler won’t know until we leave in the morning, and none of them know where we’re going once we leave the main trail.”

They hadn’t yet met the wrangler, Kyle’s helper, a guy named Smiley Wilcox. Wilcox didn’t live on the ranch and only worked part-time, which suited Gage just fine. The fewer people who knew their intentions, the better.

Gage continued, filling Mateo in on what they had learned at the museum that day and from the old prospector, Dobbie Gill.

“Gill’s reference to Bluff Spring Mountain matches what’s written in King’s notes,” Gage said. “It’s also on the map. We need to follow each of King’s markers, which means we’ll be heading up the route that leads to the flat area on the side of the mountain, just as he did.”

Mateo nodded. “I spoke to some people. They gave me the name of an old Apache who lives up in the hills. He liked to talk, said the trail we’ll be following was once an old road used many years ago. He said it used to be wide enough for a wagon, but after much time, the weather has made it nearly impassable. He says it is very steep and zigzags dangerously back and forth to the summit.”

“That’s good intel, Mateo.”

“Kyle Jenkins knows the old wagon road,” Mateo said, shoving his shoulder-length black hair back from his face. “He says once we reach it, the first five miles are very difficult. After that, it will be impossible to go farther on horseback.”

Gage nodded. “We knew that was likely.” King’s notes and his map had shown the spot where he and his party had given up their horses and gone ahead on foot.

“What’s our timing?” Gage asked. “We on schedule for tomorrow morning?”

“Everything is ready,” Mateo said. “Kyle will have our horses saddled at first light. As soon as the mules are loaded, we will be ready to leave.”

They were taking two mules, one for provisions, including water, food, and pellets to feed the livestock; the other for outdoor gear and equipment: a metal detector, maps, digging tools, a shovel, and a pick. At some point, their lightweight sleeping bags would be transferred from behind the horses’ saddles to the bottom of their backpacks, along with their personal gear—not to exceed twenty-five percent of their body weight.