Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) Read Online Free
Author: Mary Tate Engels
were the gamblers and the old miner's Indian lover. And in the center was a vessel containing the old miner's remains.
Tory knew it was the twenty-first century. But she couldn't prove it by looking around her here in Tombstone.
CHAPTER TWO
Tory stared in amazed disgust as Cliff Snyder fortified himself with a stiff shot of Scotch before he began reading the last will and testament of one Sharkey Carsen.
"I, Sharkey Carsen, being of sound mind and body, do request a gathering of my friends for this reading, including my little girl, Tory—something I could never do during my lifetime.
"I was always an aimless sort, following the wind, seeking the sun. Now maybe I can leave a legacy of some worth to those people who stood by me. And those I abandoned." Cliff paused and glanced at Ramona. She dropped her eyes, and he went on. " I'm sure of a treasure hidden in the Dragoon Mountains. I've come mighty close to it. Now it's up to you to find it, my friends. With my help. To my partner, Rex Richardson . . . " Cliff paused to look at Rex.
"Well, go on," Rex urged, impatiently tapping his fingers on the table.
" Rex, you can have my lucky pick. It's a good one, has dug its share of the glitter. Use it to dig for that sparkly stuff, and you'll get rich. You always were a lucky cuss, anyway ."
Rex squirmed in his seat, then swore a hardy oath. "I always thought that old coot was crazy. Now, here's proof! Who the hell would leave anybody a damned rusty pick? If I wanted a pick, I'd go down to the hardware store and buy one for twenty bucks!"
"But, Rex, it wouldn't be a lucky pick," Dodge said, chuckling. "And it wouldn't have come from Sharkey."
Everyone laughed except Rex, who demanded of Cliff, "Is that all? All he left for me?"
Cliff's gaze dropped to the paper. "There'll be more later on. Okay, let's continue here." Cliff took another quick gulp of his drink. " To my partner, Dodge Callahan, I leave all my other mining tools. Use what you can, Dodge, and sell the rest. Or give them to some poor jackass prospector just starting out to seek the sun. You can have the trailer, to sell or use as you see fit. And I want you to keep an eye on the map. " Cliff paused to take another sip of Scotch.
"Map?" Rex asked anxiously. "What map?"
"I'm getting to that, Rex. Just be patient."
"Well, get on with it!"
Cliff started again. " To Ramona, the lovely lady who has provided love and laughter to my empty life, I leave my Jeep. It's free and clear. Now, Ramona, you can hunt those Indian ruins wherever the four-by-four will take you, honey ."
"Oh, my God, Sharkey . . ." Ramona wiped a tear from the corner of each eye.
"You'd think," Rex mumbled, "he'd leave her, of all of us, something valuable instead of that rusty hunk of tin."
Ramona stood quickly and waved her fist across the table. "What do you know of value, Rex Richardson? If it doesn't have a dollar sign on it, you think it's worthless! But you don't know anything about real worth! Or love. Watch what you say about Sharkey or I'll—"
Dodge rose immediately and stretched his arm around Ramona's shoulder. "Come on now, you two, take it easy. Rex, you're being very insensitive here. And, Ramona, you're a little upset today. We all know this is unpleasant, but let's try to make the best of it."
Tory watched the drama unfolding before her, taking note of this odd assortment of her father's acquaintances.
Ramona seemed sincere about her feelings for Sharkey, and Tory felt a natural curiosity about this woman who claimed to love her wayward father. Ramona appeared to be about fifty, was slender and attractive, and carried her Native American traits proudly. Her dark hair was pulled back into a knot, and her hands were unusually large for a woman. Her nails were blunt cut and not polished. This was obviously a woman who worked with her hands and didn't pamper them. She probably appreciated and needed the jeep Sharkey left her.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Cliff said,
Tory knew it was the twenty-first century. But she couldn't prove it by looking around her here in Tombstone.
CHAPTER TWO
Tory stared in amazed disgust as Cliff Snyder fortified himself with a stiff shot of Scotch before he began reading the last will and testament of one Sharkey Carsen.
"I, Sharkey Carsen, being of sound mind and body, do request a gathering of my friends for this reading, including my little girl, Tory—something I could never do during my lifetime.
"I was always an aimless sort, following the wind, seeking the sun. Now maybe I can leave a legacy of some worth to those people who stood by me. And those I abandoned." Cliff paused and glanced at Ramona. She dropped her eyes, and he went on. " I'm sure of a treasure hidden in the Dragoon Mountains. I've come mighty close to it. Now it's up to you to find it, my friends. With my help. To my partner, Rex Richardson . . . " Cliff paused to look at Rex.
"Well, go on," Rex urged, impatiently tapping his fingers on the table.
" Rex, you can have my lucky pick. It's a good one, has dug its share of the glitter. Use it to dig for that sparkly stuff, and you'll get rich. You always were a lucky cuss, anyway ."
Rex squirmed in his seat, then swore a hardy oath. "I always thought that old coot was crazy. Now, here's proof! Who the hell would leave anybody a damned rusty pick? If I wanted a pick, I'd go down to the hardware store and buy one for twenty bucks!"
"But, Rex, it wouldn't be a lucky pick," Dodge said, chuckling. "And it wouldn't have come from Sharkey."
Everyone laughed except Rex, who demanded of Cliff, "Is that all? All he left for me?"
Cliff's gaze dropped to the paper. "There'll be more later on. Okay, let's continue here." Cliff took another quick gulp of his drink. " To my partner, Dodge Callahan, I leave all my other mining tools. Use what you can, Dodge, and sell the rest. Or give them to some poor jackass prospector just starting out to seek the sun. You can have the trailer, to sell or use as you see fit. And I want you to keep an eye on the map. " Cliff paused to take another sip of Scotch.
"Map?" Rex asked anxiously. "What map?"
"I'm getting to that, Rex. Just be patient."
"Well, get on with it!"
Cliff started again. " To Ramona, the lovely lady who has provided love and laughter to my empty life, I leave my Jeep. It's free and clear. Now, Ramona, you can hunt those Indian ruins wherever the four-by-four will take you, honey ."
"Oh, my God, Sharkey . . ." Ramona wiped a tear from the corner of each eye.
"You'd think," Rex mumbled, "he'd leave her, of all of us, something valuable instead of that rusty hunk of tin."
Ramona stood quickly and waved her fist across the table. "What do you know of value, Rex Richardson? If it doesn't have a dollar sign on it, you think it's worthless! But you don't know anything about real worth! Or love. Watch what you say about Sharkey or I'll—"
Dodge rose immediately and stretched his arm around Ramona's shoulder. "Come on now, you two, take it easy. Rex, you're being very insensitive here. And, Ramona, you're a little upset today. We all know this is unpleasant, but let's try to make the best of it."
Tory watched the drama unfolding before her, taking note of this odd assortment of her father's acquaintances.
Ramona seemed sincere about her feelings for Sharkey, and Tory felt a natural curiosity about this woman who claimed to love her wayward father. Ramona appeared to be about fifty, was slender and attractive, and carried her Native American traits proudly. Her dark hair was pulled back into a knot, and her hands were unusually large for a woman. Her nails were blunt cut and not polished. This was obviously a woman who worked with her hands and didn't pamper them. She probably appreciated and needed the jeep Sharkey left her.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Cliff said,
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