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“But she could die. That’s a truth we have to face.”

With a shrug, Maddox started scarfing down his bacon. He could live in denial all he wanted, but I couldn’t ignore the stark reality of our situation. As he continued steadily devouring his plate, I realized he was one of those people who ate their emotions. He punctuated his bites by growling, “How could the news travel so fast? It’s barely been fourteen hours.”

I remained quiet as I pushed my plate away. My impending doom once my parents found out what I had done, coupled with the truckers’ conversations about Maudie, had completely wiped out my appetite. Once Maddox cleaned his plate, he dug some cash out of his wallet to pay for breakfast. I didn’t even bother protesting that he shouldn’t get mine as well as his. I didn’t like the angry gleam in his eyes.

He grimaced when he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Dammit, my cell is dead.”

“Mine’s about to die, too. We’ll probably need the GPS to help us track the gold’s location.” I motioned out the window at the Wal-Mart across the street. “Why don’t I go get a charger while you get the car?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

After buying a cell charger, a book of different Georgia maps, a six-pack of bottled water and a few snacks, I stood outside Wal-Mart waiting for Maddox to pick me up. Bringing my hand to my eyes, I shifted my purchases to one arm and then shielded my gaze from the intense sun. I actually heard him coming long before I saw him. He had bought a big diesel truck like the kind that hauled horse trailers.

Maddox rumbled up to the curb, and I had to step on my tiptoes to poke my head in the window. “This is one huge truck.”

His grin was pure little boy with a brand spanking new toy. “4K on the nose after some intense haggling. It’s built for major off-roading, not to mention the steel enforced body is basically impenetrable. You know, if Jensen and his goons show up for another gun battle.” He smacked the steering wheel. “This baby is fierce!”

I cocked my head at him. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get in there with all the testosterone floating around.”

“This is a
real
man’s truck, babe. Don’t let it scare you.”

“Hmm. What about that old saying about guys needing big trucks to compensate for their lack of manhood?”

He laughed. “Just get your ass in here, Squirt.”

I opened the door and eyed a leather strap hanging from the ceiling. “What’s that?”

“It’s to help you get in. You know, because it’s so far off the ground.”

“Oh, I see.” I grabbed hold of the strap and then hoisted myself into the cab.

“Hold on tight. I’m going to show you what this baby can do.”

He gunned the engine, sending me catapulting back against the seat. “Umph,” I muttered. We careened out of the parking lot and onto the four-lane. “Is all this really necessary?” I called over the roar of the engine.

“Oh hell yeah,” Maddox replied. With a flick of the wrist, he turned on the radio. An AC/DC tune blared out of the speakers and hurt my ears.

“Don’t I get a say in what we listen to?”

He grinned. “Nope.”

I leaned over and smacked his arm playfully. “That’s not fair.”

“All right, all right. Find a station you want. But nothing too girlie and none of that boy-band shit.”

With a giggle, I turned the knob until I found a station playing some 80’s music. “How’s this?” I questioned over Bon Jovi’s
You Give Love a Bad Name.

“Fine with me,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

With Maddox’s lead foot on the accelerator, we made pretty good time. A lot of the trip was across two-lane roads and through rural areas. Realizing we were almost there, I pulled my make-up bag out of my purse. I hated the thought of meeting the Cherokee etymologist looking like something the cat dragged in, and after running like crazy to escape from Eddie and Barbie’s, I imagined I was pretty close. I brought the visor down and gazed in the mirror. Eesh, I was right. I desperately needed some help.

As I started rubbing on foundation, Maddox glanced over at me. “What are you doing?”

“Duh, what does it look like I’m doing?”

“Why do you need make-up anyway?”

I shrugged. “I wanted to freshen up a little. You know, not scare everyone at New Echota looking like my pale ghostly self.”

“You’re too beautiful to scare anyone, Lane.” I stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed to which he grinned.

“Um, thanks.” I then tried to ignore the fluttering of my heart along with the butterflies in my stomach. Darn him. How was he always able to do that to me after everything that had happened between us? Was he serious or just seriously leading me on?

He remained silent after that, watching me out of the corner of his eye as I finished with the powder, blush, and eye shadow. I had just finished applying lip gloss when I saw the sign for New Echota. “Hey, we’re here,” I cried.

“No shit,” Maddox replied, turning on the blinker.

Driving along through the park felt like being transported to another place and time. Rolling green hills stretched as far as you could see along with an old Tavern and the Council House. “Where are the teepees?” Maddox asked.

“They didn’t live in teepees in later years. They lived in cabins like those.” I pointed to one of the few remaining ones still standing.

We pulled into a parking space in front of the Visitor’s Center that also doubled as a museum. I glanced over at Maddox. “Here goes nothing.”

We got out of the truck and were overtaken by a sea of middle-school kids who were clearly on a field trip. Before we could get inside the door, a college-aged tour guide bounded up to us. “Hi. Do you chaperones need your badges?”

“Actually, we’re looking for someone who can read and translate the Cherokee language,” I replied.

The girl’s brows furrowed like I’d been smoking on a peace pipe and wanted to see human scalps on a stick. “Oh, um, I guess you need to ask inside about that.”

“Thanks,” Maddox said.

We were met with an icy blast of air when we stepped in the building. Native American flutes and drums played softly over the speaker system. We glanced around the lobby before walking up to the front desk.

“How many tickets?” a man asked.

“Actually we need to speak with someone who can translate Cherokee,” I replied.

“That would be Dr. Bretsky. His office is at the back of the exhibition hall.” When we started to turn away, he said, “Excuse me, but you need tickets to go through there.”

Maddox frowned. ‘But we’re not here for all the museum stuff. We told you—”

“Yes, I know, and like I said before, you’ll need two tickets.”

With a growl of frustration, Maddox dug out his wallet. He tossed a ten at the man who gave a tight smile in return before handing us two tickets. “Everything has to be a pain in the ass!”

I couldn’t help giggling. “I think it’s safe to say that nothing else is going to be easy for us.”

We wove our way through a maze of Cherokee artifacts preserved behind glass cases until we reached a long hallway. I read the gold-plated nameplates before stopping at the one that read, “Dr. Paul Bretsky”.

I rapped lightly on the door.

“Yeah?” a voice demanded.

Maddox arched his eyebrows before twisting the doorknob. The mammoth desk in front of us was buried under books and files. I could barely see the man sitting behind it. He was surprisingly younger than I imagined. I wondered if he was much older than thirty, even with his slightly balding hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He stared expectantly at us.

“Excuse us, but are you Dr. Bretsky?” Maddox said.

He heaved a massive sigh. “Yes, I am.”

I stepped in front of Maddox. “Oh wonderful. I’m Lane Montgomery, and this is Maddox Diaz. You can’t begin to imagine how excited we are to have found you.” I thrust my hand out to shake Dr. Bretsky’s.

He eyed it before giving me a half-hearted handshake. “I wasn’t aware I had a fan club.”

I dug the map out of my purse. “You see we really, really need someone who can translate this. You know, from the Cherokee syllabary into English.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Maddox and I exchanged a look at Dr. Bretsky’s exasperated tone. “Yes, we are,” Maddox replied.

“We think it might be a very important part of Cherokee history,” I added.

Dr. Bretsky continued to stare at us without responding. Maddox cleared his throat. “We’re willing to pay for your time.”

“Oh really. How kind of you,” he said, icily.

Maddox leaned over Dr. Bretsky’s desk. “Dude, what’s your problem? You’re a freakin’
Cherokee
language expert working at a freakin’
Cherokee
historical park. Don’t you even care about the potential history surrounding this document?”

Narrowing his eyes, Dr. Bretsky replied, “Of course I care about the history. It’s my life’s work.”

“Then how can you just sit there and not be totally in awe about something like this?” I asked.

A contemptuous snort escaped Dr. Bretsky’s lips. “Don’t tell me you think you’re the first people to ever burst through my door with what they thought was an
authentic
Cherokee historic artifact?” When Maddox and I didn’t reply, Dr. Bretsky rolled his eyes. “At least once a month, I get some crackpot with a parchment or pottery or arrowhead that they think the park will pay them big money for. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it turns out to be garbage, and they’ve wasted both my time and theirs.”

I shifted on my feet, refusing to take no for an answer. “But what if our map might be tied to the legends of hidden Cherokee gold?”

“Like I haven’t heard that one before.” Maddox and I opened our mouths to protest, but Dr. Bretsky held his hand up to silence us. “Do you see this?” he asked, gesturing wildly towards a mound of paperwork on his desk. Maddox and I nodded. “I have to get through all that for a grant the park desperately needs. And when do I have to have it done by?
Tomorrow.
So, I’m sorry if I don’t have time to play along with your little map decoding and quest.”

“But if you could—”

Dr. Bretsky popped out of his seat like a jack in the box. “Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. I live in the real world—with a job, deadlines, and so much stress that I have an ulcer. Yes, there were legends of hidden gold, but that’s all that they were:
legends
. Whatever gold there might’ve been hidden was confiscated by the US Government or claimed by family members years and years ago.”

“But this is a matter of life and death,” I cried, my voice raising an octave with desperation.

Dr. Bretsky grunted. “I’m going to the bathroom now. When I get back, you two better be gone.” He then stomped out of the room.

At the sound of the bathroom door slamming, I asked, “Great. Now what?”

Maddox rubbed his chin. “Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“I don’t know what other measures there could possibly be. We’ve appealed to everything that would interest him—Cherokee history, the treasure itself. You even offered him money, and he’s still not interested.”

“Yeah, well, we haven’t appealed to everything.” His gaze trailed over me before he wagged his eyebrows up and down. “I think you’re going to have to show a little skin. Maybe give him a little first base action.”

My eyes widened. “Are you insane? I’m not going to flash my barely there chest at him!”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with him or anything. Just a little harmless flirting. The dude is wound tight as hell and could use a little distraction.” I opened my mouth to protest more, but Maddox grabbed me by the shoulders. “Lane, must I remind you what a screwed up situation we’re in? The map
has
to be translated, and this asshole is the only person in a thousand mile radius who can possibly do it.”

Even though I hated to admit it, Maddox was right. I was about to accept defeat when something on the bookcase caught my eye and made me laugh out loud. The more I thought of it, the funnier it was, and the more I laughed hysterically.