“I don’t trust you, Gary. You know too much–the article in the paper and then wanting to go with us. I almost fell for all of it. What else aren’t you telling me?” Did he know about the key? If he didn’t tell me about it, could I have a small glimmer of hope he told me the truth?
“Addie. Please believe me. What else do you want me to say? I did my job. He came in and I helped him. That’s it. Sure, the story sparked my interest. Just because it’s your family story doesn’t mean it hasn’t been talked about around Alvarado for years. You don’t live there. Anything about gold being buried is big news.”
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying. There could be a lot of money. We don’t even know. Do you realize he’s been threatening me?” My voice cracked and trailed off, drowned out by the tires of passing traffic on the pavement. He didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure he’d heard the last question.
“Listen to me, Addie. Let me decide how we can fix this. Give me a chance to explain.” He firmly grasped my arms. “Don’t you know me by now?”
“I thought I did, but I guess not. What do you mean…you decide? The decision isn’t yours, it’s mine. I don’t care if I ever see you again.” Just like Eric.
Going to decide. Going to fix things. Try to run my life.
“I’ll send the rest of your bags to your hotel in the city tomorrow.”
“Addie, I don’t understand. What went wrong? What about tomorrow night?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you and don’t show up in Barnesville. You used your interest in my family’s history to sneak into my heart and win me over. I trusted you. Is the church project you’re working on a lie?” From the glow of the street light, I could see his face, drawn and pale. I had said too much, but I delivered one final blow, “I thought you were a man of God? You’ve betrayed me. I let you draw me into whatever trap you and Donnie were laying. Well, it didn’t work.”
I jerked away from him and yanked open the Mustang's door. When I started the engine, it revved up more than I’d intended. Quickly, I pulled out into traffic and let the tires squeal. With the top down, I was glad I’d put on a sweater. My favorite blue pullover couldn’t change the coldness I felt. I’d thought I’d found the man of my dreams.
What if he had told the truth?
I couldn’t sort out my feelings. Part of me wanted to believe him, but I wouldn’t let myself. I was ready to give him the one little part of me I’d kept for myself. I couldn’t stop until I’d thrown his love of God in his face. I shouldn’t have gone that far. Somewhere deep down inside my soul wept.
A time to love and a time to hate
.
****
August 30 finally arrived. I’d kept the rental car all week. Driving around in a new convertible helped raise my spirits as I tried to keep Gary out of my thoughts. I’d left everything at work in place for the premier, which would be the weekend we were in Dallas. Mollie was at the kennel and I headed for the airport.
I checked my luggage and waited to board the plane. I looked around a couple of times for Gary, praying he wouldn’t take the same flight after our scene at Susan’s.
I’d said too much. I used my final accusation about his relationship with God to get back at him. To cut to the core of what he believed in. I wanted Gary to feel the way I did. I felt guilty. God and I weren’t on the best terms either. If it had been a few years ago, I’d have asked for His guidance. “Seek and ye shall find,” Grandpa always said. But the last time God and I talked, I’d closed the door and shut him out of my life, too.
The attendant called out seat numbers and I joined the jumbled line in front of the doorway to the boarding area. I stole one last glimpse at the lobby, walked up the ramp into the plane and settled in next to the window. I searched the faces of everyone who came in after me. Finally, the big metal door was sealed shut. The seat next to me was empty, but not as empty as my heart.
Chapter Nineteen
As I gripped the armrest, the wheels of the plane met the tarmac. I hated landings, but this one proved to be easier than most. I’d managed to schedule an early flight out of San Jose and noon approached as I gathered my bags and found the Avis counter.
“Would you like a convertible?” The young, college-age clerk quickly filled my rental request. “We have a nice, red one.”
“No. I think a larger car would be better. Four door, please. There will be others in my party.” I had a mission here. The anticipation of the next few days grew and what unfolded would be beyond even my own fruitful imagination.
I’d never been to the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport. When I realized getting onto the freeway could be a nightmare, I happily remembered Mel had agreed to take a shuttle to the hotel. It was near the corner of MacArthur Boulevard and John Carpenter Freeway. Once I found it and checked in, I wanted to go downtown to the library.
The pamphlet I’d received showed the Summerfield in all its glory but the rates were expensive. I’d booked a suite so Mel and I could have a girl’s night before Clay and Susan arrived. I’d be alone for the evening in the pure luxury of the large room. Once I’d made my trip downtown, I wanted to find the day spa and exercise room displayed in the brochure. I’d reserved the suite before my fight with Gary and we had planned on having dinner. But now I wanted the time alone to reflect on what happened and how I’d been so taken in by him.
I parked the car in the entrance breezeway and walked into the main lobby. The soft floral designed tile floors met my gaze and delivered an unexpected coolness. My footsteps echoed on the ceramic squares. Surprised to hear a waterfall, I walked to the south end where a Koi pond, partially hidden from view, sat in the corner. The splashing water was soothing. I made a mental note to check it out later. A small restaurant nestled into the side of the building near the cascade looked interesting. I’d ask the desk clerk to make a dinner reservation for me.
“I have a suite reserved for Addie Brown, please.”
“Ah, yes Ms. Brown, 213.” The desk clerk, probably close to sixty, displayed mannerisms and speech, which sounded as if he’d practiced in the mirror every morning. “Please sign in and the bell captain will help you with your luggage. Credit card?” His brightly polished nametag bore one name, Adams. I’d wanted to ask him questions about finding the library but his stiff, pretensions kept me at bay. I’d use the phone once I reached my room.
If everything else failed, I could use the web to locate the library and anything else I needed. “Is there perhaps Internet connections?”
“Of course.” He nodded to the brightly colored tri-fold leaflet tucked into the side pocket of my tapestry bag. “It’s in the brochure.” He returned coolly.
Hoping one of the other employees wasn’t so rigid, I turned around to see a smiling face. The smile was accompanied by his gold plated nametag, “Jeff.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Brown. My name is Jeffrey Barton. I’m the bell captain. Shall we find your room?”
Relieved by his warm ways and smile, I continued, “I have a few questions about the county library.”
“Surely you didn’t come all this way to read a book. Your baggage tag is marked California.” He escorted me to the elevator and continued his welcoming banter.
“No. I need to find out some information on local history.”
“The central library is only about ten miles from here. I spend a lot of evenings there myself. I’m a student at the university. Let me make you a quick map. It is just off the 356. It won’t be any trouble at all to find. Just remember not to get on the loop. I guess you’re comfortable with California freeway driving, Dallas isn’t much different”
“No. Not really. I do appreciate the help. I was afraid everyone here was going to be as stiff as the guy at the counter.”
“Oh, Adams isn’t so bad once you get used to him. He’s English and reminds us of it daily. He can be a regular guy when he’s not behind the front desk.
I slipped Jeff a tip and nestled into the overstuffed chair in front of the window, cozy and comfortable. I felt strangely at home. This could be my return to the place where my family had begun. Or at least had made a name for themselves. They’d been in Georgia and England before they called Texas home. It was where they’d planted roots and grown. My condo in San Jose was like a terra cotta pot, a temporary holding vessel. Maybe I needed to plant some real roots somewhere, too. I could have sat there for hours but I reminded myself, I had work to do.
****
I found the library as easily as Jeff suggested. I asked about local history and Barnesville only to be returned blank stares. Everyone at the reference desk told me they’d lived in the area most of their lives and hadn’t heard of the place.
“From what I’ve found out on my own, it is near County Road 208. On Chamber’s Creek?” I gave them what little information I’d received from the numerous phone calls I’d made but they couldn’t find anything.
“Chambers Creek is in Johnson County. Have you tried the Cleburne Library?” The reference librarian tried to be of assistance.
“I made a few phone calls, but no one seems to know what I’m talking about. Is there a history room? Anything like that?”
A young, thin blonde came from behind one of the stacks. “Barnesville? I helped someone with a request for that yesterday. Were you two together?”
I felt a knot develop in my stomach and the gooseflesh rose on the nape of my neck.
Donnie. He was here.
I managed to ask her, “Did you find anything?”
“Actually, we did. It took me quite a while to find the information, but he was persistent. You’re not together then?”
“No.” I hesitated to ask. “Did you get his name?”
“I’m sorry. He was in a hurry. Unless we’re looking up further information and the patron has to return, we don’t usually ask their names.” She motioned for me to follow her through the stacks of reference material. “Here it is. It’s in an old local history book on several of the towns in Johnson County and how they were founded. There is a nice chapter on Barnesville. Let me get it for you.” The young woman handed me the book which I began to page through. “You know, I think there’s a presentation by a Native American storyteller this afternoon downstairs in the children’s room. He’s a Jumano Chief. He’s from Johnson County, maybe he can help you, too.”
The book by Viola Block interested me. “The History of Johnson County and Surrounding Area” written in 1970 answered several questions about the family. One entire page was devoted to the cattle drive. Our great-great-great-grandfather, John, the first postmaster, had given several acres of his land for the cemetery. I asked the clerk to make copies of the pages for me, paid her, and made my way down the old, highly polished, mahogany staircase. The children’s room was near the entrance. I found it easily and sat in one of the small chairs in the back of the room as the chief told his story.
Attired in his full native dress, the old man sat talking to the children. His long black hair, threaded with silver, lay in a single braid down his back. His brown, craggy face broadened into a wide smile as he talked.
The chief vibrantly told the story of a young hunter who married a female buffalo in the form of a woman. I’d become familiar with the shape-shifting he spoke of when I studied Egyptology and hieroglyphics.
The old man continued with his story, “When his people rejected her, she returned to the buffalo with their son. The young hunter followed, but needed to pass many tests to become a buffalo. In a cave just south of Cleburne he honed his skills.” He winked at the children seated at his feet.
One pudgy, eight-year-old boy shot up his hand and asked where the cave was located.
“The actual location of the cave is near a cemetery in Barnesville. The town is no longer there. Once the railroad came to Texas, the town was bypassed.”
I’d been looking over the copied pages and wasn’t listening to the chief until he mentioned Barnesville. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. The cave Gary told me about. The old chief knew about the cave.
After the children made their way out of the area, I approached the elderly gentleman. “I’m interested in your story and the land surrounding the cave. Do you know where it is?”
“It is east of Cleburne, about twelve miles. Are you planning to go there?” A look of concern clouded his deep, brown eyes. “It isn’t safe.”
“I’m a descendant of the founders. I just want to look around, that’s all,” I hedged.
A warm smile covered his face. “You’re a Barnes?”
“My mother was.” I waited anxiously to hear what he had to say. “Do you know my family?”
“Not directly. My ancestors knew the three Barnes brothers, the founders of the town. My great-grandfather, Running Bear, was close to the one named John.”
“I’m a direct descendant of John. He had wonderful plans for the town, but died before they could all be laid out.”
“Yes. He’s buried near the cave.” He reached for my arm and drew me close. “Be careful.” Again he cautioned me, “It isn’t safe.”
I wanted to ask him what he knew. Why wasn’t it safe? Had he talked to Donnie? But a younger man came to escort the elderly man to a waiting car.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Grandfather is old. He must go now.” The young man dressed in stylish clothes, wore his hair in a similar braid as that of the old man.
‘Where can I find you?” I didn’t want to let the opportunity get away. “Can I talk to him again?”