Bluebells on the Hill (11 page)

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Authors: Barbara McMahon

Tags: #romance, #family, #contemporary romance, #rancher

BOOK: Bluebells on the Hill
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'Umm.' She nodded. The ranch in Colorado
where she had grown up was primarily a cattle enterprise. The land
was different, too, from this California mountain area. She'd like
to see over Mackenzie's Horse Ranch one day. See the differences in
the operations. Learn more about how Mac had expanded it from when
his father operated the ranch. Find out plans for the future.

Unlikely.

'Thanks again for the lesson. I'll be back.'
John-Michael slung his guitar over his back and swung himself
lithely up on his horse. Tugging gently on the bridle, he turned
and ambled off towards home.

Amanda watched him leave, then turned slowly
back to her music. Two Mackenzie in one day would be too much to
expect. Slowly she started on her song again.

***

The next day Amanda dressed in shorts and a
sleeveless, loose top. Just because she’d had a run-in with Mr
Mackenzie a few days ago, she was no longer going to put off her
pursuit of fun. She liked panning for gold. The time spent out of
doors was a welcome change from recording studios, airplanes and
hotel rooms. She wanted to spend as much time in the fresh air as
she could while she had the opportunity. The weather was glorious,
her duties minimal while on vacation. She wouldn’t let the
experience of her last outing affect her going again. Today she'd
pan for gold.

She grabbed her hat and the gold pan and was
off. While it was warm in the sun, there were several high, puffy
white clouds dotting the blue expanse. A slight breeze skipped
across the grass; the air in the shade a few degrees cooler than
previous days. A cooling trend coming in, she thought.

Going directly to her usual spot, Amanda
began the now familiar task.

Time slid by. Unaware of passing minutes,
Amanda contentedly washed gravel and grit patiently with pan after
pan of water. Twice she thought she spotted gold flecks, carefully
claiming them from the pan bottom and placing them in the small
vial she carried.

One of the harmless clouds drifted in front
of the sun, shading the patch of creek bed Amanda was working on.
Immediately, she felt cooler. The mountain air itself was not warm;
the sun gave the day the warmth she’d been enjoying. In the shade,
the water also felt colder, turned dark gray.

Glancing up, Amanda was reassured. It was a
brief interlude; already the cloud was moving on, releasing the sun
to resume its warming functions.

A short time later Amanda stood up,
stretching. Her back ached a little, her hands were cold. She
leaped to the shore, wandering a few feet upstream to an area
fairly free of rocks. She sat down, stretching her legs out before
her, leaning back to soak up the sun's rays. She took off her hat,
using it as a pillow, lay back down. The sun was hot on her face,
her arms, her legs. Slowly she relaxed, easing the tight muscles
across her shoulders, easing away tension. The creek played a
gentle music. Amanda dozed.

A shadow covered her face, blocking the sun's
warmth again. She frowned a little. If the cloud blocked all of the
sun, she'd start to get cold. Squinting, she looked up to judge how
large this cloud was, startled to find herself gazing into Mac's
amused face.

'Taking a sun bath?' he asked politely, his
eyes taking in her recumbent figure.

She shook her head, scrambling to sit up,
feeling decidedly at a disadvantage as he squatted down beside her.
She put her hat back on, noticing Mac's horse tethered to a nearby
shrub.

'I didn't hear you come up,' she said,
scooting back a little, away from his overwhelming nearness. This
was twice she had missed his approach. Maybe being by the creek
wasn't all to the good if its noisy gurgles drowned out sounds of
his approach.

'I think you might have been asleep,' he said
gravely.

She nodded. 'I was, I guess. I've been
panning and was a little stiff, so I lay down. The heat put me
out.'

'Any luck?'

'Only flakes. But I don't care. I love it. I
don't really expect to strike it rich.'

'Still a lot of gold in these hills. The
mines around Timber produced over two million dollars in their
prime. It’s estimated the Mother Lode has more than two hundred
million dollars still buried in the hills.'

'Around here?'

'Here to Placerville and north. You're
panning for placer gold; lode gold can be found around here too,
but not as easily.'

'Lode gold? I thought gold was gold.'

'Placer gold is loose, gold that's been
worked up and out by nature, tumbling free in the streams and
rivers of the Mother Lode during flood season. Settling out
sometimes miles from the vein that produced it. Lode gold is the
gold still in veins. In this area, gold is usually found in quartz
veins. If you find quartz rocks, examine carefully to see if there
are gold traces. Come on, I'll show you.'

Mac rose to his full height. Amanda slowly
stood up, a little at a loss for his change of attitude. It had
been daggers at dawn before; now, an almost friendly overture.
Warily she followed as he headed briskly upstream, his eyes on the
creek bed. There was no awkwardness, no time to think about how to
react to the man. He appeared to be ignoring their last
confrontation. Far be it from Amanda to drag it up. She hurried to
keep up with him.

'Here.' He stopped and waited for her to
catch up. With long strides, he left the bank, stepping nimbly on
to the large rocks and boulders rising up through the tumbling
water. Pausing on a large, sloping boulder, he reached into the
clear liquid on the lee side of the rock. He drew out two white,
translucent stones, discolored along one side.

'See here,' he pointed along a crack in one
rock. 'This is quartz, lots of it around here. These veins on the
rock are similar to the ones found with gold.'

Amanda peered at the rock, taking it from him
to examine.

'See the rust coloring on the side?'

She nodded, conscious of his hands pointing
out the traces on the rock, conscious of his shoulder close to her
own as he bent to point out the markings on the rock. Concentrate
on what he is telling me, she admonished herself, hoping she could
continue to breathe. Her heart skipped a beat and then raced.

'It’s from the pyrite, fool's gold. It's
often present where gold’s found.'

Amanda looked around the creek, stooping to
scoop up a few other white stones, discarding one immediately when
she saw it was a smooth pebble, not the ragged, semi-translucent
stone she was looking for. The others she examined more closely.
Here and there were black lines which cut into the rocks.

'Sometimes you can crack the rock open,
finding the gold on the outside has been worn away, but a bit of
the vein inside still has some of the ore.'

'Will it be shiny?' She tossed back the
rocks, picked up new ones.

'You'll know it's gold, it looks the same in
sun or shade. Not polished like jewelry, but definitely gold.'

She nodded, examining the rocks, tossing them
away when they did not have what she wanted. Mac also pulled rocks
from the stream bed, returning them to the water more quickly than
Amanda. Silently they dug up white rocks, looking them over, threw
them back. Twice Amanda hesitated, then put the stones in her pan
for later study.

She lost track of the time when Mac turned to
her, hand outstretched to her.

'Here you are, traces of gold.'

She took the rock, white on the one side.
Turning it over, she saw a wide band of gray-black mixed with a
dull metal. Just traces, but he was right, she did know it was
gold. She raised shining eyes to him.

'It's gold!' She held it out for him to take
back.

'It's for you. You can keep it.'

'But you found it. I can't take it.'

He smiled. 'Plenty more where it came from. I
told you, two hundred million dollars worth.' He flicked the rock,
still in her outstretched hand. 'This is probably worth less than
fifty cents if you scraped it off the rock even at today’s
prices.'

'It's still gold,' she defended happily,
looking again at the traces on the side of the stone. All the
flakes and grains of gold painstakingly panned from the creek over
the last few weeks did not equal the amount of ore displayed on
this hunk of quartz.

'Yes,' he said, 'it’s gold.'

She looked closely at the surrounding land.
'Does it come from here, the quartz?' Maybe they could find the
vein, the lode gold.

'Probably not. In the spring, when the snow
melts from the higher elevations, this old creek swells
considerably. It's a raging river then, moving a tremendous amount
of material with it: rocks, stones, logs, debris. Over the years it
washes the stones down from higher elevations, who knows how far.
In the late fall, the water’s so low it's only a small trickle,
scarcely moving at all.'

Amanda looked at the water. 'It's hard to
believe,' she murmured. Where would she be in late autumn, in
October? On tour somewhere? Cutting a new album? No matter, she'd
be sure to spend a few days here. This was her home now and she
wanted to see it in all its different seasons.

'Are we below the snowline here?' she asked,
trying to envisage snow on the trees, piled on the boulders.

Mac stared at her for a moment. 'Didn't you
ask about that before buying?'

She shook her head.

'Depends on the winter. Usually we get a few
storms through that dump on us. If it's a mild winter, then none.'
He moved back to the bank. 'I've got things to do. You keep on with
your search, if you like.'

'No, I'm hungry. I'll stop for today.'
Tightly clutching her precious rock, she gained the bank, turning
for another look at the spot so she'd recognize it when she came
again. As they started back, she looked around again, puzzled.

'Mac, is this my land?'

'No, your property ends a few yards from
where you were napping.'

'Then I can't come tomorrow.' Disappointment
coursed through her, was evident in her voice.

'As long as you don't set up dredging
operations, you can search for gold anywhere on the creek,' he
replied.

Amanda considered this, further puzzled. She
glanced at him from under the brim on her hat as he moved casually
along. Was this the same man she had met before? The one so adamant
to get rid of her, to regain the property he coveted? This the same
man who considered her a hippie, a jobless freeloader who should go
out and look for work? Whatever had wrought such a change?

Suddenly Amanda recalled their meeting before
Dave had come. Mac had said perhaps he could accomplish his goal
with kindness. Was he trying that tack? Being kind to her, becoming
a friend in hopes of talking her into letting him have the
property? She felt a wave of disappointment. She wished they’d met
under different circumstances.

They reached his horse, dozing in the sun.
Mac untethered him, turning back to Amanda. He regarded her for a
long moment, looking at her mouth, reminding her vividly of their
last meeting by the creek, of the harsh kiss; and the one filled
with delight. Nervously she licked her lips. Would he kiss her
again?

'Look for your treasure, Mandy. What you find
you may keep. No strings.'

She was startled at his largess. Had she
misjudged the man? 'Thank you. I'll ... I'll let you know if I find
the big strike.'

'You do that.'

As he rode away, Amanda felt a small loss.
Slowly she headed homeward, her spirits rising a little as she
realized she and Mac had spent well over an hour together with no
altercations. She examined her rock, rubbing gently against the
gold embedded on the stone. He had found it and given it to her. It
might not be worth much, as he had said, but she'd never know
because she didn't plan to take it anywhere to be valued. It was
worth a great deal to her just as it was.

She dwelt on the pleasant companionship
shared as they both had searched for gold in the cold waters of the
creek. Whenever she looked at her 'golden rock' in the future,
she'd remember the pleasure of the day. And Mac Mackenzie.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Shopping was becoming a minor irritation. As
Amanda prepared another list of things she wanted, she pondered on
how she was going to get to town and, more importantly, how she'd
get back with the groceries she was picking up. She'd have to give
serious thought to obtaining some type of vehicle for
transportation. She could not depend on the constant largess of
others for her transportation needs. The lack of taxi service made
having a car almost a necessity here. She'd look into it further
when she returned from Nashville. Dave would give her some advice,
she was sure. In the meantime, she frowned, she still had to get to
town today.

A horn sounded in the front. Amanda crossed
to the window to peer out. Mac's big gray truck was in her yard,
John-Michael at the wheel. He blew the horn again.

Amanda opened her door. 'Hi,' she called.
'What are you up to?'

'Hi. Dad's let me take the truck into town to
get a few supplies. Want anything?'

'I sure do. In fact, I could use a lift. Is
that okay?'

'Sure, come on.'

'I didn't know you drove,' Amanda said a few
minutes later as she climbed in and John-Michael carefully
negotiated the turn from the driveway to the highway. She was
surprised he was old enough, but she wasn't particularly good at
judging people's ages.

'Just got my license a couple of months ago,'
he said proudly. 'Dad doesn't let me go too often myself yet, but
he's too busy today and we need some antiseptic ointment for one of
the horses. He got a bad scratch on something and Dad wants to make
sure he’s attended quickly.'

'Well, you're a lifesaver for me. I need a
few groceries,' Amanda replied, settling back in the seat. 'Are you
in a hurry? I won't be long.'

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