Tara's Gold

Author:Lisa Harris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

Tara swallowed hard and forced her horse to sprint faster. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but she refused to give in to fear. Fear was the enemy, and time was running out. It had taken two weeks, but she’d finally managed to unravel the majority of the clues in her aunt’s journal. She’d also discovered that there were others searching for the gold. Others who would do anything to get their hands on the journal she possessed.

But that was something she’d never allow.

The house loomed before her in the distance. The shabby saltbox structure her aunt had written of was the key to the gold. That she knew for sure. All she needed was to unlock the last few paragraphs and her service to her country would be complete. If her assumptions were correct, she’d be able to secure the gold before the others.

“The masked bullion my comrade holds, remains forever secluded beneath the ring of woody perennials, there to be confined until the adversary is trounced.”

She repeated aloud the phrase from the journal. Masked meant hidden. Bullion referred to the gold. My comrade—

A gunshot ripped through the morning air. She slid to the ground, bringing the horse to an abrupt halt. Then she clutched the journal beneath her arm as she ran to the side of the house for cover. Another shot pierced the morning stillness. The enemy had arrived before her. She caught sight of his black Stetson as he rounded the corner, and her breath caught in her throat.

It wasn’t the adversary from Aunt Rachel’s journal.

It was Mr. Jefferson.

Tara sat up with a start, then lay back down too quickly, whacking her head against the headboard. A rooster crowed outside. The sun had yet to wrap its warm fingers across the acres of farmland and prairies, but already she could hear Mrs. Carpenter bustling downstairs. In a few moments, she’d knock on Tara’s door and announce the start of yet another day.

Tara let out a long sigh. For two weeks now, she’d risen before dawn. Today, she wanted to sleep in. Between morning Bible readings, farm chores, and evening prayers, they’d spent the time cleaning every nook and cranny of the house, an undertaking Tara was convinced hadn’t transpired for at least half a decade. And while she hadn’t been able to talk Mrs. Carpenter into making any major changes in the antiquated furnishings, she had to admit that she was amazed at the transformation that had occurred.

Mrs. Carpenter continued to sing her praises, claiming that she’d never have had the energy to accomplish such a feat without Tara’s help. But for a city girl who’d never placed one foot on a farm before arriving in Iowa, the housework hadn’t been the only challenge. From milking the cows to collecting the eggs to ensuring the new lambs didn’t escape from their pen, she’d fallen into bed exhausted at night. Even the last of the pickles had been sealed in mason jars yesterday afternoon and lined up in neat rows in the cellar until the next church social.

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