Chapter 8

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of purple and red, they approached a lake that shimmered in the fading light. The water was a mirage in the midst of the dusty landscape, a beacon of life in the desolate wasteland. The group, weary from their emotional and physical exertions, agreed to make camp for the night.

They dismounted from the carriage, their legs wobbly from the long ride. Erick and Mrs. Stephens set to work, unpacking the supplies and setting up the tent with a sense of practiced ease. Sue’s eyes were drawn to the serene water, the gentle ripples whispering a promise of rest and peace. Smokes noticed her gaze and gave her a knowing look. “We’ll be okay,” he said, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

The campfire crackled to life, the flames licking the dry wood greedily. Smokes, ever the resourceful one, had managed to procure a small bag of coffee beans and a metal grinder. The rich aroma filled the air as he crushed the beans into a fine powder, mixing them with water in a blackened pot that hung over the fire. Erick, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar smell, hovered nearby, eager to taste this “magic water” that seemed to bring a spark to the adults’ eyes.

Mrs. Stephens, her emerald dress traded for a sensible set of traveler’s clothes, rummaged through the supplies they had brought from the mansion. She pulled out a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese, along with a few tins of beans and a small jar of preserved peaches. The sight of food brought a collective sigh of relief, their stomachs growling in protest after the long day of discovery and exertion.

While the fire crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows across their faces, they worked together to set up camp. The tent was a small oasis of shelter, its canvas a stark contrast to the surrounding ruins. The smell of coffee filled the air as Smokes tended to the pot, the dark liquid bubbling and steaming. The rich aroma mingled with the scent of sizzling meat and the sweetness of the peaches, creating a tantalizing bouquet that promised comfort and warmth.

They gathered around the fire, the flames casting a warm glow over their faces, the shadows playing across their expressions. Sue took the first sip of coffee, her eyes closing in bliss as the bitter warmth spread through her, chasing away the dust of the day. Mrs. Stephens broke the bread, passing slices around the circle, and Erick’s eyes widened in delight as he tasted the sweetness of the peaches. The simple meal was a feast after their days of hardship, each bite a celebration of life and camaraderie.

The fire crackled and spat, the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. They sat in a companionable silence, the weight of their find and the town’s haunting history momentarily forgotten. The warmth of the fire, the smell of roasting meat, and the richness of the coffee created a bubble of comfort around them. The gold lay in the carriage, a silent testament to their good fortune, but for now, their focus was on the present, the shared meal a symbol of their unity.

As the night grew darker, Erick’s eyes grew heavier. He yawned, stretching his arms wide, and with a nod from Mrs. Stephens, he crawled into the tent. The canvas fluttered gently in the breeze, a soft cocoon of protection against the desert night. Smokes watched him disappear into the tent, his heart swelling with a paternal pride that surprised him. He had never had a child of his own, but the bond that had formed between them was stronger than any blood tie.

Turning to Sue, he saw the question in her eyes before she even spoke. “What do we do with all this gold, Smokes?” she asked, her voice low and tentative. The sack lay at her feet, the weight of their decision almost palpable.

Mrs. Stephens, her eyes reflecting the flickering firelight, looked up from her coffee. “We could use it to start over,” she suggested, her voice filled with hope. “A fresh start, far from the troubles.”

“But where?” Sue’s voice was tinged with doubt. “There’s nowhere that’s safe from the likes of the Four Horsemen.”

Mrs. Stephens looked into the fire, her expression contemplative. “Before those bandits took everything, I had a plan,” she said slowly. “A place called Freedom Worth. It’s a town where folks can start anew, where the law’s got some teeth.”

Smoke’s eyes lit up at the mention of Freedom Worth. It was a place he had heard of in whispers, a mythical haven for the downtrodden and the hopeful. “You reckon we can make it there?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

Mrs. Stephens nodded, a steely determination in her gaze. “With the gold, we can buy supplies, horses, and anything else we need. We’ll be set for a fresh start, and with the gold, we’ll be able to build something more than just a new life. We can build a legacy, one that doesn’t involve peeping through keyholes or hiding from the law.”

Smoke looked at Sue, her eyes shimmering with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What do you say, darling?” he asked, his voice gruff but gentle. “Are you with us on this?”

Sue took a deep breath, the warmth of the fire and the promise of a new life in Freedom Worth washing over her. “I’ve got nothing left here,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the crackling flames. “I’m with you.”

With that, they clinked their coffee cups together, a toast to their newfound fortune and the journey ahead. The night grew colder as they sat in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts of what their futures might hold. The gold, once a symbol of greed and despair, now represented a chance at redemption and a better life.

Smoke felt a warmth in his chest, a feeling foreign to him for years. He looked around the campfire, taking in the faces of his newfound family. Sue, her eyes reflecting the fire’s glow, had transformed from a beaten soul into a woman with a spark of hope. Mrs. Stephens, whose strength and resilience had seen them through, had become a beacon of wisdom and guidance. And Erick, the innocent boy who had been thrust into this harsh world too soon, had found refuge in their makeshift family.

With a firmness in his voice that had been missing for decades, Smoke spoke. “I promise, as long as there’s breath in my body, I’ll look after you all,” he said, his gaze meeting each of theirs in turn. “We’ll get to Freedom Worth, and we’ll build something good, something that’ll make us proud.”