stealing a Christmas gift from a child.
Sighing, she picked up her carpetbag and headed for the mission. She smiled and nodded when several children who were playing in the dust and mud of the street looked at them with curiosity. They got up and raced ahead of the new arrivals toward the mission.
As Rory walked up the street, she could feel the curious stares from people who were sitting on rickety chairs and porch stoops. Most appeared to be Mexican, with a few Anglo faces among them. They whispered among themselves, but none came forward to greet them.
Upon hearing the sound of voices and strum of a guitar, Paddy’s eyes suddenly sparked with pleasure and he paused in front of the building marked CANTINA .
“Darlin’,” he said, with a grin as Irish as a field of shamrocks, “I’ve a fierce thirst from the trip. You go on an’ I’ll just slip in here to ease the parch of it.”
“I’m thirsty too, Pop, and you’re coming with me. I’m sure the kind father will offer us a cool glass of water to quench our thirsts.”
“You’ve the mercy of yer Grandmother Finn, Rorleen Catherine O’Grady. Black-hearted witch that she was,” he grumbled.
“Pop, shame on you. Mum always told me not to speak evil of the dead. And she always said what a good and kindly Christian woman Grandmother was.”
“Aye, that she did,” Paddy said, with the hint of moistness in his eyes. “Your sainted mother would not speak an evil word about anyone.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Even one as undeserving as Chloe Finn.”
“Then I think you should follow Mum’s example.” She marched ahead, ignoring the continuous grumbling from her father who followed behind.
The children had carried the word to the aging priest, who was waiting to greet them when they reached the mission.
“Welcome, my children,” Father Chavez said. “Come in and rest yourselves.”
Father Chavez was a short man with a thick crop of pure white hair and a smile as wide as the Missouri River. Despite his advanced age, he was neither stooped nor slow of step, and from his greeting, he had a better grasp of the English tongue than did Paddy.
“May I offer you a cooling drink to refresh yourselves?”
“That’s very kind of you, Father,” Rory said.
The priest’s brown eyes were warm with friendliness and curiosity. “What brings you to Tierra de Esperanza?”
Before Rory could answer, a woman carried in a tray with a pitcher, glasses, and a small plate of cookies.
“Gracias, Elena. ¿Quiere ir con nosotros?”
With a shy smile, she shook her head and hurried from the room.
“Forgive me. I hope you are not offended. My sister Elena is very shy and declined my offer to join us.”
“You mean you are brother and sister by birth?” Rory asked.
“Sí, Señorita O’Grady. Elena was just a young girl when my mother came here to be my housekeeper. When our mother died, Elena remained and took over those responsibilities. What is your purpose for coming here to our town, Señorita O’Grady?”
Rory took the map from her purse. They had invested time and money in this venture, and in fear her father would wager the map in a card game, she had taken it from him to make certain of its safekeeping.
“We want to know if this claim has been filed.”
Father Chavez stretched the map out on the table and studied it intently. “Where did you get this, Señor O’Grady?”
“From a friend,” Paddy spoke up quickly.
Rory would have preferred he tell the priest how he got it, but since she considered Garth a friend, she decided to hold her tongue.
“These are very old markings on the map. Gold mining in that area has become nonexistent.”
“Why is that, Father?” Rory asked.
“The Indians either killed the miners or drove them out. When the Indians moved on, the bandidos arrived. Many have made their homes in these mountains. The few miners up there failed to get enough out of their mines to make the risk they were taking
Sighing, she picked up her carpetbag and headed for the mission. She smiled and nodded when several children who were playing in the dust and mud of the street looked at them with curiosity. They got up and raced ahead of the new arrivals toward the mission.
As Rory walked up the street, she could feel the curious stares from people who were sitting on rickety chairs and porch stoops. Most appeared to be Mexican, with a few Anglo faces among them. They whispered among themselves, but none came forward to greet them.
Upon hearing the sound of voices and strum of a guitar, Paddy’s eyes suddenly sparked with pleasure and he paused in front of the building marked CANTINA .
“Darlin’,” he said, with a grin as Irish as a field of shamrocks, “I’ve a fierce thirst from the trip. You go on an’ I’ll just slip in here to ease the parch of it.”
“I’m thirsty too, Pop, and you’re coming with me. I’m sure the kind father will offer us a cool glass of water to quench our thirsts.”
“You’ve the mercy of yer Grandmother Finn, Rorleen Catherine O’Grady. Black-hearted witch that she was,” he grumbled.
“Pop, shame on you. Mum always told me not to speak evil of the dead. And she always said what a good and kindly Christian woman Grandmother was.”
“Aye, that she did,” Paddy said, with the hint of moistness in his eyes. “Your sainted mother would not speak an evil word about anyone.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Even one as undeserving as Chloe Finn.”
“Then I think you should follow Mum’s example.” She marched ahead, ignoring the continuous grumbling from her father who followed behind.
The children had carried the word to the aging priest, who was waiting to greet them when they reached the mission.
“Welcome, my children,” Father Chavez said. “Come in and rest yourselves.”
Father Chavez was a short man with a thick crop of pure white hair and a smile as wide as the Missouri River. Despite his advanced age, he was neither stooped nor slow of step, and from his greeting, he had a better grasp of the English tongue than did Paddy.
“May I offer you a cooling drink to refresh yourselves?”
“That’s very kind of you, Father,” Rory said.
The priest’s brown eyes were warm with friendliness and curiosity. “What brings you to Tierra de Esperanza?”
Before Rory could answer, a woman carried in a tray with a pitcher, glasses, and a small plate of cookies.
“Gracias, Elena. ¿Quiere ir con nosotros?”
With a shy smile, she shook her head and hurried from the room.
“Forgive me. I hope you are not offended. My sister Elena is very shy and declined my offer to join us.”
“You mean you are brother and sister by birth?” Rory asked.
“Sí, Señorita O’Grady. Elena was just a young girl when my mother came here to be my housekeeper. When our mother died, Elena remained and took over those responsibilities. What is your purpose for coming here to our town, Señorita O’Grady?”
Rory took the map from her purse. They had invested time and money in this venture, and in fear her father would wager the map in a card game, she had taken it from him to make certain of its safekeeping.
“We want to know if this claim has been filed.”
Father Chavez stretched the map out on the table and studied it intently. “Where did you get this, Señor O’Grady?”
“From a friend,” Paddy spoke up quickly.
Rory would have preferred he tell the priest how he got it, but since she considered Garth a friend, she decided to hold her tongue.
“These are very old markings on the map. Gold mining in that area has become nonexistent.”
“Why is that, Father?” Rory asked.
“The Indians either killed the miners or drove them out. When the Indians moved on, the bandidos arrived. Many have made their homes in these mountains. The few miners up there failed to get enough out of their mines to make the risk they were taking
Similar Books
