Above the Bridge (13 page)

Chester paused to consider what he’d just said before adding a few more examples of the town’s developing status. 

“But, as I was sayin’,” Chester continued, picking up the topic of conversation again, “Jackson’s Hole is growin’ and it’s gonna continue to grow, I figure.  We’ve already had a ferry crossing the river for six years, thanks to Bill Menor.  And it’s been ten years already since Pap Deloney opened his store.  We even had one of them new-fangled automobiles come through this year, way north of here, trying to go through Yellowstone.  You’re a smart lady, it seems, so I’m bettin’ you know that’s been a national park since 1872.  Anyway, they were fools.  I heard they found out them things ain’t allowed in the park.  Had to take it through on a wagon.  No, Tuttle’s place wouldn’t be hoppin’ the way it is if not for all them folks comin’ into this valley.”

He crossed his arms, clearly satisfied with his portrait of the growing valley.

“Now, look over here,” Chester said, motioning for Paige to turn her head to the far left. “Back there behind us a ways we got ourselves a dude ranch, the JY.  Just set up operations a couple years ago.  People are thinkin’ it’ll bring visitors in, fetch us all some extra dollars.  Sure would help me, more folks needin’ to git around.”

“I thought most people here were cattle ranchers.”  Paige watched as Chester nodded his head in agreement.  “And others grow oats and barley,” she added, trying silently to run through her recent research of Jackson Hole, but coming up short with specific chronology.

“Well, now, they do that,” Chester agreed, nodding his head.  “They grow alfalfa and clover, too, even some wheat.  But it’s not enough for most people to get by. And there’s lots to see around these parts, things more folks ought to see. So they’re hoping visitors will come.”

“I have a hunch they will,” Paige reassured him, holding back a smile.  She wished she could tell Chester what Jackson would look like one hundred years in the future, but knew it would sound unbelievable.

Quietly, they remained on the butte, observing the activity of the townspeople below.   Some rode horses towards the outskirts of town.  Others walked with arms full of supplies.  After some time, Chester picked up the reins and signaled to the horse that it was time to go.  Taking the same bumpy road back down, they returned to the livery barn, where Chester jumped down from his driver’s seat and helped Paige out of the wagon.

She thanked him and then suddenly realized she must owe him a fee for his services.

“Oh, my,” Paige exclaimed. “I’m sure I need to pay you something for the ride.” She felt a sudden panic.  She’d been unable to find any pockets when she’d picked up the Jackson’s Hole Courier.  It was unlikely she had any money.

Chester held his hand up and shook his head.

“No, ma’am,” he replied.  “You did me a favor, letting me take you to my favorite sittin’ place.  I’m the one who owes you a thank you.  I know you’re new to this here town.  I hope you’ll think to stop by again.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Paige replied, not sure if this was a promise she’d be able to keep.  Thanking him again, she crossed the barn, heading for the front door.

Just before she reached the exit, however, her attention was caught by some movement to her left.  Looking over, she saw Jeremiah, from the saloon, working in one of the horse stalls.  Surprised to see him again, she wandered over, causing him to look up as she approached.

“I just wanted to thank you again for your kindness in the saloon,” Paige offered.  “I’m not from around here and I’m afraid I don’t know the local customs.  I’m glad you were there.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jeremiah responded, tossing a slight grin in Paige’s direction, while continuing to sweep up hay with a long-handled rake.

“I take it you work here,” Paige said, wincing at the obvious as soon as the words crossed her lips.

“I help with the chores here a few times a week, cleaning stalls and feeding the horses.” Jeremiah replied, setting the rake aside and lowering his voice.  “Chester’s getting on in years and can use an extra hand.  Don’t tell him I said so, though.  He’s got a hearty portion of pride.”

He straightened up and attempted to brush his clothing down, though without much success.  Loose strands of hay clung to his pant legs and smudges of dirt decorated his wrinkled shirtsleeves.  Paige realized with a start how familiar his features were.  He’d been wearing a hat inside the saloon and, sitting at the end of the bar, she hadn’t noticed the resemblance at that time.  But now, though his hair style and clothing were different, there was no question he looked very much like Jake.

Realizing she was staring, she stopped and offered an apology.

“I’m sorry to stare, it’s just…”  Paige paused.  “It’s just that you look very much like someone I know.”

Jeremiah smiled, gathering his rake and other work supplies and heading across the barn to set them against the side wall.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, after a pause.  “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but I’ll take it as a compliment.  At least I sure hope it is.  It was a pleasure seein’ you again, but I must be gittin’ along now.”  He took his hat off a hook on the wall, tipped it towards Paige and turned away, crossing to the front of the barn.

Just before Jeremiah disappeared through the door, Paige saw something fall from his rear pocket.  She walked quickly over to the spot to retrieve the item, intending to catch up with him to give it back.  But when she came within several feet of the object, she stopped suddenly and stared.  There, caught in a glimmer of light shining down from the barn’s rafters, was the same skeleton key she had seen through the antler arch before.  For a second she caught her breath and froze.  Was it the arch that had brought her here, or the key itself?  A fleeting quiver of fear ran through her as she realized there had been no antler arches around the dusty center block of town.  There had to be a way to make sense out of what clearly seemed beyond reason.  She just needed to find out what it was.  Without even having to think twice, she stepped forward, reached down and grasped the key.

CHAPTER TEN

Jake didn’t trust Frank.  He didn’t trust him at all, not at this point.  For all he knew, Frank might have just given him another useless piece of paper.  After downing the rest of his beer, he grabbed his hat and stood up.  He ducked around a wayward cue stick, nodded a quick goodbye to Billy and stepped out onto the wooden slat sidewalk.  Without wasting any time, he made his way back to his truck and headed towards the outskirts of town, slowing down just once to let late-season tourists saunter across the road.

Driving north through park territory, he hit the brakes sharply at one point to allow an elk to cross the highway and again, another mile later, to wait for a trio of deer to move off the road.  He’d learned long ago to drive with extra caution, especially during twilight and evening hours.  It was common for wildlife to cross the roads unexpectedly, often causing damage to vehicles, humans and wildlife alike.  As eager as he was to look over the paper Frank had just given him, it wasn’t worth the consequences of driving too quickly.

Turning east, he thought over the various interactions he’d had with Frank, from the first time he had been contacted by the old man right up to that evening’s meeting at The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar.  Was there any reason Frank might be feeding him false information?  Is that what he’d been doing from the start?  Maybe the map was a fake, the paper processed to appear old.  Or maybe it was truly an original map, but had been altered somehow to throw him off track.

No, it didn’t make sense.  What would the motivation be?  If the treasure didn’t exist, Frank would’ve had no reason to bring him to Jackson.  Was the buried gold real, but Frank was diverting him from the actual location with a map that wasn’t authentic?  That didn’t make sense, either.  Frank had clearly grown too old to search the mountains himself.  And if he’d had someone else to do it, he wouldn’t have come all the way up to Cody to plead for help.

Jake took a sharp left into the ranch driveway, screeching to a stop just long enough to let himself through the front gate.  With a heavy foot on the gas pedal, gravel scattered sideways and clouds of dust billowed up behind him as he headed for the ranch house.  Parking the truck abruptly, he jumped out, kicked the door shut and walked quickly inside, slamming the front door of the ranch house in the same manner.  Whatever Frank was up to, he wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

Grabbing the familiar book off the shelf, he pulled the first map out and unfolded it.  He then took the new portion of the map out of his pocket and sat down in his chair, bringing the two together and studying them.

What had looked like a map on its own before had obviously just been part of a whole, as he had suspected.  Together, the two pieces seemed to tell more of a story, though there was still much to figure out.

In the center of the map, where the two sides came together, it was now clear that the zigzag line continued into several sharp peaks of differing heights.  These were almost identical to the shape of the Tetons.  A winding line followed just to the right of the jagged lines, possibly a trail or stream or the boundary of a section of land.  Several groupings of arrows were clustered in different areas.  There appeared to be a plus sign in the center of the page, just to the right of the area where the two halves of the map connected.  Perhaps it indicated that the map’s sides should connect at that point.  Or maybe it meant clues on both sides needed to be connected in order to determine the location.

There were no other markings to the left of the large zigzag and there was nothing to give any hints as to what the smudge on the right might mean.  Jake still felt there must be something that tied the circular spot in with the rest of the marks.  He had hoped to figure it out by piecing the map together, but so far it didn’t make any more sense than before.

Additional lines and figures stretched across the bottom of the connected papers, but not in any way that clarified other parts of the map.  Arrows, oval shapes, more zigzags and a set of short, parallel lines all seemed arbitrary.  The haphazard smattering of shapes didn’t appear to correspond with the other markings.

Jake set the two halves of the map aside.  He considered taping them together, but thought better of it.  The paper was yellowed and fragile and there were additional tears on both the left and right sides.  No, it was best to keep them in two pieces and just bring them together whenever he needed to analyze them further.

Jake sat back and mulled over the chronology of his search.  He’d been in the area for almost six months now.  It had taken that long to settle in, blend in with the other townsfolk and to buy the ranch, so that he could be situated in the area where his great-grandfather had lived.  He would be able to come and go with more privacy.  The rest of his time had been devoted to searching for clues and scouting around to rule out some of the mountain areas as possible hiding places.  He’d also spent endless hours researching the history of gold prospecting in Jackson Hole, knowing any knowledge could lead him a step closer to his goal. 

What he hadn’t had a chance to do was to get out and physically explore the area as much as he wanted to.  He knew that knowledge of the trails, especially those that led into the Tetons, was crucial to his being able to discover the location of the gold.  And now he had the map to provide clues.  With this in mind, he returned both sections of the map to the hiding place in the bookcase and turned in for an early night’s sleep, in order to be prepared for a day of trail exploration.

*   *   *   *

It was clear and sunny when Jake stepped out into the crisp air the next morning.  Travel mug of coffee in hand, he cranked up the truck and left the ranch, heading west toward the main highway.  There were very few clouds in the sky, setting the valley dramatically against a stunning backdrop of blue.  Three bison grazed along the north side of the road as Jake headed west to the main highway.  A massive bull elk stood regally off to the left near Gros Ventre Junction, about fifty yards from the road.  A six pointer, Jake surmised, noting the impressive rack of antlers.

Jake turned right on the highway and drove north to Moose, a tiny town consisting of a post office, a few stores off a side road and an impressive visitor center for Grand Teton National Park.  He’d been to the visitor center many times since arriving in Jackson Hole, asking rangers questions about specific trails and analyzing the massive topographical map displayed in the lobby.  This time he passed the visitor center without stopping and pulled up to the park’s entrance gate, showing his annual pass to the ranger on duty.  He smiled as he replaced the pass in his wallet.  He’d been wise to cough up the fee for the annual pass when he first left Cody.  It would be money well spent for the return he expected.

Continuing northbound through the park, he took in the flat, open fields on his right and the majestic Grand Tetons on his left.  To the many people who visited the park each year, these mountains represented the strong, powerful forces of nature. To Jake, they represented much more.

He turned left at the south junction to Jenny Lake, a glacier-formed body of water estimated to date back 9,000 years.  The road curved alongside low brush until it dropped off into the south parking area for the lake.  Already into the off-season, it wasn’t hard to find a parking space.  He chose one near the front of the lot and pulled in, setting the parking brake and jumping out of the truck.  He checked his small knapsack, which held a water bottle, trail mix, a pad of paper and a pen. He’d known better than to have brought the original map sections along, but had made a rough, handmade copy which contained all the major markings on the original papers.