Chapter 3

The young woman who had first spoken to me said, “I’m Tara O’Brian, that’s my twin brother Rory, his wife Dove, and their son Patrick.”

As she spoke, I reversed my conclusion that they were Indians. It was obvious that all of them were of mixed blood. Tara was a tall woman of about 5’8” with black hair and green eyes, and an athletic build. Rory was the same except he was about 5’10”, his short wife and son both looked more Mexican than Indian.

Tara continued, “Our father tried mining for several years, but, after he married our mother and she had us, he decided that if he keep looking in Apache lands for gold or silver, those who said that all he would find would be his tombstone were right. He started a trading business between Tucson and our mother’s people, the Tohona O’odham. We grew up spending part of the year in school in Tucson and the rest with mom’s people. We were never really accepted as part of the tribe, so when Mom and dad died from a fever, the elders told us that we were unwelcome. We loaded our stuff on a wagon and set out for Tucson, but we won’t be any more welcome there, as we are looked down on as half-breeds.”

“How did you end up with those two?” I asked; chin pointing to the wooded area where we had dumped the bodies.

“That was my fault”, Rory interjected. “I said we should stop early because of the grass and water. As I was dealing with the mules, those two showed up with guns drawn and we ended up how you found us. Thanks for your help, there’s no way this would have ended well.” As he said this he hugged his wife and son. His eyes started to tear up so I changed the subject to save him embarrassment.

“Obviously, you don’t have the gold they were after, what’s the story.” I asked.

Tara started laughing. As she did, Rory said, “The nugget I wore around my neck was the only gold our father ever found. He kept it for luck and as a last resort if we ever needed money. Those pigs thought that we could lead them to a lot more. As if we would be out here with nothing but two mules and a wagon if we had a gold mine.”

“Well, let’s see what we inherited from those two. A least some good may come out of this little dust up,” I said.

With that, I went to the blanket where we had dumped their belongings and started examining everything. When I finished I said, “Eleven dollars between the two of them, one double barreled muzzle loading 12 gage shotgun, two .36 army revolvers in good shape, two Henry repeaters also in good condition, four decent knives, and plenty of cartridges for the Henrys and power and shot for the revolvers and shotgun. Both horses are good ones with good gear. Judging from what we know of those two, this stuff is far too good to be theirs. I think that you were not their first victims.”

“I think you are right, but what are we going to do with all of this stuff?” asked Tara.

“It’s yours,” I responded. “I have no need for any of it, and you all do.”

We spent the next two days at the location, getting to know each other and resting the animals. Dove, who was shy and said little, became our self appointed cook, and her overnight snares provide us and my dogs plenty of meat. She also fell in love with my supply of dried foods and spices. She proved to be hopeless with the rifles and revolvers. However, she would have slept with the shotgun if Rory would have let her. It was perfect for her, a close up point and shoot weapon. I promised her that when we got to Tucson I would get it cut down to a more manageable size, which earned me a great big smile. Rory and Tara had been well trained by their father to shoot both a revolver and a rifle. So we were well set up to defend ourselves.

By the third day, we decided to move on because four things had happened. I told them about the cave of gold, Tara had moved her sleeping roll alongside mine, the two miscreants had begun to stink, and my new friends had decided to join me on my quest.