Chapter 5
Lana
Together, we fed the animals, and when that was done, we gathered our supplies and settled into the UTV with Caleb at the wheel. He started the engine, and the noise filled the shed.
“Have you ever driven one of these?” I shouted over the rumble.
He grinned at me and shook his head. “Nope, but it can’t be that hard.”
I called Scout to jump in, and he settled at my feet.
“Put your seatbelt on,” Caleb said, reaching for his. “Don’t want to go flying out of this thing if someone decided to chase us.”
The UTV lurched forward, sending me grabbing for the roll bar in one hand and Scout’s collar in the other. Caleb’s grin widened as he guided us out of the shed and into the snow-covered field.
“I thought you’d never driven one of these before,” I yelled over the engine, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I haven’t driven this specific model,” he shouted, navigating around a fallen branch with surprising ease. “But the principle is the same for most off-road vehicles.”
Scout seemed to be enjoying the ride, his nose lifted to catch the wind, ears flapping. I checked the map coordinates on my phone and directed Caleb toward the creek.
“Head east about two hundred yards,” I said, pointing. “The first marker should be just beyond that stand of pines.”
The UTV handled the snow better than I expected, the tracks cutting through the white blanket with minimal resistance, so well that Caleb hadn’t engaged the snowblower. Still, I noticed him wincing each time we hit a bump, his injured leg jostling despite his efforts to brace himself.
“You okay?” I asked when a particularly rough patch made him inhale sharply.
“Never better,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Just focus on those coordinates.”
The creek came into view, partially frozen over, its banks lined with snow-dusted rocks. According to the map, the first X was located near a distinctive bend in the water.
“Stop here,” I said as we approached the area. “It should be close by.”
Caleb killed the engine, and the silence of the winter landscape enveloped us immediately. No birds sang; even the wind had momentarily stilled. The only sound was our breath and Scout’s panting.
“Let’s start with the metal detector,” Caleb suggested, reaching for the device. “If there’s anything metallic buried here, it should pick it up.”
I nodded, grabbing the shovel while he awkwardly maneuvered out of the UTV. His face was pale from the ride, but determination kept him moving. Scout jumped out and immediately began sniffing around the area, his tail wagging a mile a minute.
Caleb powered up the metal detector and began sweeping it over the ground near the creek bank. I followed behind him, ready with the shovel. We worked methodically, moving in a grid pattern away from the water.
“Nothing yet,” he muttered after ten minutes of searching. “Let’s try closer to that large rock formation. If I were hiding something, that’s where I’d put it—somewhere with a natural marker.”
We shifted our search to the area around a jutting outcrop of granite, only it wasn’t just a bunch of rocks. Within its circle was a small cave. Scout had wandered a bit farther upstream but remained within sight, occasionally glancing back to check on us.
“Should we go in there?” I asked, hesitantly. “What if it’s a bear den?”
He shone the flashlight inside and swept the area. “Nah, too small. I’ll go first.”
Only three steps inside, and the detector started to go off, emitting high-pitched beeps. Caleb froze, then passed the wand over the same spot again. Another beep, stronger this time.
“We’ve got something,” he said, his voice tight with excitement. “About two feet down, I’d guess.”
I moved to stand beside him and positioned the shovel. “Do you think the ground is too frozen?” I asked, poking it with the shovel.
He shook his head. “It’s surprisingly warm in here. Look, you can’t see our breath.” He puckered his lips like he was going to kiss the air and slowly breathed out. “See?” he grinned.
Truth be told, all I saw was his lips, but instead of admitting it, I started to dig.
Carefully, hoping not to damage whatever might be buried.
The ground was partially frozen, making progress slow and difficult.
Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the cold as I excavated a hole about eighteen inches wide.
“Let me check again,” Caleb said, passing the detector over the hole. The beeping intensified. “It’s close. Maybe another six inches. Give me the shovel.”
I started to protest, but then he shot me a look. One that zinged up my spine and had me clamping my mouth shut.
“I hit something,” he announced, as Scout popped his head between my legs.
I pushed him aside and dropped to my knees to brush away the remaining dirt with my gloved hands.
A metal edge appeared—rectangular, rusted, but unmistakably man-made. Working together, we cleared enough soil to reveal what appeared to be an old military-style ammunition box.
“Can you lift it out?” he asked, balancing precariously on his good leg.
The box was heavier than it looked. I strained, finally managing to hoist it from the dirt. Setting it on level ground, I examined the rusted latch.
“It’s locked,” I said, tugging at the corroded mechanism. “But the metal’s so degraded, I think—” With a snap, the latch broke off in my hand. “Never mind.”
Caleb lowered himself to sit on a nearby rock, leaning forward intently as I lifted the lid.
Inside, protected by a weathered oilcloth, lay several items: a leather-bound journal, yellowed with age; a small canvas pouch; and what appeared to be mining documents, old from the looks of them, as the papers were brittle and discolored.
“Careful,” Caleb warned as I reached for the journal. “Those pages could disintegrate if handled roughly.”
I gently lifted the journal, opening it to reveal faded, handwritten entries. The ink had browned with age, but the flowing script remained legible.
“Property of Thomas Wolf, 1897,” I read aloud. “Account of discoveries.”
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Wolf? As in Wolf Creek? This could be the original settler.”
I turned a few pages, scanning the entries. “April 18, 1897—Located promising vein in shaft three. Estimate yield at twenty ounces per ton. Must keep location secure from company men.”
“He was one of the independent prospectors,” Caleb said, excitement coloring his voice. “The ones fighting against the mining company.”
I reached for the canvas pouch next, carefully untying the drawstring. It contained several rough stones, dull at first glance but with veins of something metallic running through them.
“Are these—?” I began.
“Gold ore samples,” Caleb confirmed, taking one to examine more closely. “Not refined, but definitely valuable to someone who knows what they’re looking at.”
A sudden bark from Scout drew our attention. The dog stood rigid, staring into the tree line, hackles raised.
“What is it, boy?” I called, instantly alert.
Scout barked again, more urgently this time. Through the trees, I caught a flash of movement—too large to be wildlife.
“Someone’s watching us,” Caleb whispered, reaching for his gun.
I quickly gathered the items, shoving them back into the ammunition box. “We need to go. Now.”
Caleb nodded, struggling to his feet. “Get to the UTV. I’ll cover you.”
“I’m not leaving you behind,” I hissed, grabbing his arm to support him.
“I didn’t say leave me. I said, ‘Go first.’” His eyes never left the tree line. “Scout, come!”
“We go together,” I said as the dog reluctantly backed toward us, still growling at whatever—or whoever lurked among the trees. I helped Caleb to the UTV, the ammunition box tucked awkwardly under my arm.
I helped him into the UTV before skirting around to the passenger side, tossing the ammunition box onto the floor as he started the engine, his gun still in his hand.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I scanned the trees for further movement.
Scout jumped in beside the box, his attention still fixed on the forest.
The UTV roared to life just as the underbrush at the edge of the clearing parted. I tensed, expecting to see Margret or some unknown threat emerging with weapons drawn.
Instead, a doe stepped cautiously into the open, followed by two more, then several others—an entire herd materializing from the shadows like ghosts. Their ears twitched nervously as they regarded us with liquid brown eyes.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, sagging against the seat.
Caleb lowered his gun, a shaky laugh escaping him. “Well, that’s... not what I expected.”
We exchanged glances, the tension draining from our bodies so suddenly that I felt light-headed. Scout’s barking subsided to curious whines as he watched the deer, his earlier alarm giving way to typical canine interest.
“Just deer,” I said, unable to keep the relief from my voice. “All that panic over some deer.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Caleb replied, holstering his weapon. “But we should still get back. It’ll be dark soon, and I don’t want to be out here when that storm hits.”
I nodded, glancing at the sky, where heavy clouds had gathered, which looked as if it would open up at any moment and dump a foot of snow on us. The temperature was dropping rapidly as the afternoon waned, and the wind had picked up again, whistling through the pines.
Caleb put the UTV in gear, and we started back toward the house, the ammunition box secured between my feet.
Despite our deer-induced false alarm, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d crossed some invisible line today—that by digging up this box, we’d set something in motion that couldn’t be stopped.
The ride back seemed longer, the shadows stretching across the snow as the sun descended behind the mountains.
Caleb drove more carefully now, mindful of his injured leg and the precious cargo we carried.
Scout had settled beside my leg, occasionally sniffing at the box as if trying to decode its secrets.
“What do you think is in the journal?” I asked, raising my voice over the engine’s rumble.
“If we’re lucky, maps to the rest of whatever Mr. Wolf was hiding,” Caleb replied, eyes fixed on the path ahead. “Mining operations back then were often kept secret—especially if they were as valuable as the note suggests.”
“And someone else knows about it,” I added. “Someone who sent you that note.”
“Someone who’s not Margret,” Caleb pointed out. “She seemed genuinely surprised to see us at Jake’s place. If she’d sent the note, she would have expected us.”
I considered this as the farmhouse came into view, windows dark against the gathering dusk. “So, we have at least two parties interested in whatever’s buried on this land. Margret and our mysterious note-writer.”
“And possibly more. The question is, which one is the ‘friend’, and which one wants to make sure we never find the rest of the treasure?”
The shed door was just as we’d left it, but that didn’t stop Caleb from drawing his gun. “I’m going to lock this up and park the UTV at Ella’s. From now on, no more walking to do the chores.”
“Your leg is getting worse. I’ll lock it up.”
“Just stiff from sitting,” he insisted, though the tightness around his eyes told me differently.
“Yeah, well, I’m still doing it,” I said, jumping onto the ground and walking over to the door.
“Well now, you’re just showing off,” he said with a grin.
I laughed. “Should we check on the barn animals?”
He shook his head. “We fed them extra and watered them; they’ll be fine till morning.”
In no time, I was back in the seat sitting beside him, and we were on our way. By the time we reached Ella’s porch, darkness had fully descended, and the first fat snowflakes were beginning to fall. I fumbled in my pocket for the keys as I handed him the box, then bounded up the wooden steps.
The warmth inside was a blessed relief, but the cold had settled in my bones. “Tea or coffee?” I asked, then filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil.
“Coffee. We should check all the windows and doors,” he said, shrugging off his coat. “Make sure everything’s locked up tight before this storm hits.”
I nodded, already moving toward the back of the house. The windows were all secure, curtains drawn against the gathering night. When I returned to the kitchen, Caleb had managed to stoke the fire in the living room and was sitting at the table, the contents of the ammunition box spread before him.
“Find anything interesting?” I asked, hanging my coat by the door.
“This journal is a goldmine—possibly literally.” He looked up, excitement in his eyes despite the exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. “Thomas Wolf wasn’t just any prospector. According to this, he was a geologist who discovered a rich vein that the mining company had overlooked.”
I pulled up a chair beside him, peering at the yellowed pages. “And he hid the location?”
“Better than that. According to this, he extracted a significant amount of ore before the dispute with the company turned violent.” He pointed to an entry dated October 1897. “He writes about hiding his ‘security’ in multiple locations across his property—including a cache of processed gold.”
My eyes widened. “Like… Actual gold bars? That’s what we’re looking for?”
“Seems like it.” He turned another page carefully. “And according to this, he created a cipher—a code that, when deciphered, would lead to the main cache.”
“Is it in there? The cipher?”
Caleb shook his head. “Not directly. But there are references to markings on trees and rocks—natural features that would have meant something to him but would look ordinary to anyone else.”
I sat back, processing this. Outside, the wind had picked up, sending snow swirling against the windows. “So we need to find the other boxes. The coordinates in the notebook...”
“Are likely the locations of additional clues,” Caleb finished. “But we won’t be doing any more treasure hunting tonight.” He gestured toward the window over the sink, the only one that didn’t have a curtain on it, where the storm was now in full force, snow accumulating rapidly on the sill.
“No,” I agreed, rubbing my arms against a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. “But someone else might be. Someone who knows exactly what they’re looking for.”
Caleb’s expression sobered. “All the more reason to secure what we’ve found and get some rest. We’ll need clear heads to figure out this cipher.”
I gathered the items and returned them to the ammunition box. “Where should we hide it?”
“Somewhere not obvious,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it started to ring. “It’s Jake,” he said, looking at the screen. “Hey brother, please tell me you have good news.”