“Idiot.” Lt Juan de la Gaspar cursed as his hand slipped yet again. He was in a hurry and when he hurried he got nervous.

Around him the old guard was crumbling. In Monterey Governor Alvarado had all but surrendered to Manual Micheltorena and his army. Soon they would figure out where the last of the Old Spanish treasures had disappeared to and would come looking for him. With Micheltorena’s armies reputation of looting and pillaging somebody would find out where he’d run too and would most likely try to beat the information out of him.

In front of him was the one place the soldiers of Micheltorena would never think to search for the information. After all it was just an old wooden box with a tiny secret compartment, not big enough to hide any of the gold coins or jewellery in but small enough to hide a note containing the first of two clues to where he had, on Alvarado’s orders, hidden the fortune. A smaller casket of more or less useless stuff he’d hidden close to Monterey, a diversion more than anything. Better the Mexicans find that rather than the real bootie.

Beside him was a note to his wife and son detailing where the first clue could be found. The padre had promised to have it delivered to them if anything happened to him. Hearing the door to the chapel open he dropped to his knees.

“They are coming my son.” The padre warned him. “You must flee.”

“Bless you Padre.” He rose and faced the monk. “I will see to it that they no nothing about you letting me stop here to rest”

“Go with God my son.” The padre offered the quick prayer

“Padre about the letter.” He offered the paper.

“I will see to it my son.” The padre’s head turned at a sudden noise. “Go. This way.”

Following the pointing finger of the padre he soon found the exit. Checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t been followed he made his way back to where he had left his horse.

From within the Mission grounds he could hear the Mexican soldiers harassing the padre, not doubt asking if the padre had seen him at all. Breaking out of the strand of trees he took off away from the mission, hoping to lead the soldiers away.

“There he goes.” He heard the cry. “ Forget that priest, the one we’re after is getting away.”

With his own mount rested and the soldiers mounts a little on the tired side, the chase lasted for quite some time and put a lot of miles between them and the Mission.

A depression in the ground caused his mount to stumble and allowed the soldiers to catch up with him.

As he suspected the soldiers did take the rough approach to getting the information they were seeking.

“Got it.” One of them waved the map to the smaller cast. “He won’t be needing it anymore.”

The last thing he saw was the barrel of the soldier’s gun.

THE MISSION CHURCH STOCKTON- PRESENT DAY.

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t wait for Jarrod.” Nick Barkley complained as he drove the buggy containing his mother, his younger brother and himself toward the sandstone church.

“Because Jarrod will be stuck in San Fransisco till the end of next week with that Carlen/ Stone case and because we are the main sponsors of the display Father Julio thought we would like to the object before it goes on public display.” Victoria Barkley countered with.

“It’s just some old music box, I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” Nick continued his whinge. “It’s not like we have more important things to do like, fence mending, branding or peach picking.”

“Nicholas!”

“Well it isn’t.”

“Mother, normally I wouldn’t go against you.” Heath Barkley entered the debate between his brother and mother. “But I must agree with Nick on this one. All this for some old wooden music box?”

“Heath!” Victoria exclaimed again. “I’ll make allowances for the fact that you’re new to the valley and are not up with its history, but Nick you should know better. This is no ordinary music box.”

“So what is so special about this box?” Heath inquired.

“The music box belonged to a Franciscan monk Padre Felipe Arroyo de la Cuesta.” Victoria explained. “He made frequent visits trips to the valley during the early part of the century. Now mind you there is no proof that he made it as far as Stockton, or where Stockton now stands. But he did reach as far as Los Banos. He preached Christianity to the local native tribes. From what I’ve been told he spoke about thirteen native dialects and this music box was sort of an icebreaker in the language barrier. That’s why it’s here now on loan to us, it’s a part of this valley’s history.”

“What happened to Padre Arroyo?”

“At the time of his trips into the valley he was based at the Mission San Juan Bautista, he stayed there until 1833 .He spent his last years at Mission Santa Ines until he died in 1840.”

“That’s where the music box came from?”

“No it’s on loan to us from the Mission San Juan Bautista and we are grateful that they are letting borrow it.” Victoria finished as the carriage pulled up outside the Church.

Nick muttered something under his breath that neither Victoria nor Heath was able to catch, but they both got the meaning. Nick wasn’t impressed.

Victoria shot her second born a raised eyebrow as she allowed Heath to help her out of the carriage and up the steps to the church door.

They both turned and watched as Nick bounded up the steps to join them.

BOOM!

The church crashed outwards at the sound of the explosion echoed around the churchyard.

Nick turned his face away.

When the dust finally settled he turned back to what as the front of the Stockton Mission Church and saw nothing but dust, debris and a gapping hole that once was the front door.

“MOTHER! HEATH!”

“Blow it.” Fernando Gaspard yelled to his four companions “We’ve got what we came for.” He tapped the music box under his arm.

By the entrance door of the Mission church his swarthy Spanish companions began their task Two lit the fuses to the sticks of dynamite the other two held, and then tossed them at the door before joining their boss.

“You’ve got what you come for.” Padre Julio del Toro argued, “Must you destroy the place as well?”

“Diversion Padre. With everybody concentrating on the front door we slip at the back.” Gaspard called running for the cellar and the exit there. “Nothing personal. Oh and Padre take cover.”

By the cellar door two more of his men were waiting with the horses.

“Well done amigos.” He called to his band as they mounted the horses “We are closer now to being the richest men in this whole valley. Richer than the Barkley’s.”

At 36 he was not what many would call a young or a successful man. The years since he and his mother had come here on the run and with virtually nothing had been hard Scratching and scrapping a living, The hard endless cycle of work had killed his mother, his father killed when he was only five. There were times he couldn’t even remember what his father looked like. All he had from his father was a note. A note promising wealth if he was cleaver enough to find it.

He had just taken the first step. Now to head back to his hiding spot. His ranch wouldn’t be the safest place at the moment.

The cave would be and there he could decipher the clue.

“MOTHER, HEATH.” Nick tore across from where he’d parked the Barkley carriage to the area that was, up until a few moments ago, the front steps and doors of the Church.

Large chunks of rock covered the doors that now lay on the ground.

From under the debris of rock and door he heard the faint sound of a woman coughing.

“MOTHER.” He called again. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Merciful heavens.” A voice sound from behind him.

It was Padre Julio.

“Padre. Help me please.” Nick called to the monk “My mother, my brother.”

“Mrs Barkley and Jarrod?” The monk got down on his knees and began to help with the removal of the stone chunks.

“No my younger brother Heath.”

“Ahh the young man Mrs Barkley has mentioned recently.”

The cough was now becoming louder.

“Nick.” The voice of Victoria Barkley called.

“Mother?”

“Over here.” The monk called. “Under the door.”

Together they lifted the heavy wooden squares that once served as the church entrances.

What they saw both amazed them and filled their hearts with joy. Victoria and Heath were still alive, the fallen bricks had created a small barrier; the heavy doors had come to rest on that barrier and had not crushed the pair.

“I’m fine.” Victoria reassured her son. “Heath shielded me and ended up catching the worst of it.”

Victoria was shaky, her hands and arms were covered with cuts and scrapes, but apart from them she appeared to have escaped without any major damage.

“See to Heath.” She requested as the Padre led her to the undamaged section of the building and a seat.

“Heath?” Nick asked cautiously as he gathered his younger brother into his arms. “Heath can you hear me?”

Slowly Heath regained consciousness.

“What happened? Feels like the whole building came down on top of me.” Heath groaned

“Just about little brother.” Nick’s voice held a tone of relief. “Think you can sit up?’

“I’ll try.”

Nick eased Heath into a sitting position. Never once taking his eyes off his younger brother.

“Okay?”

“Yeah thanks Nick.” Heath smiled at the man who up until a few weeks ago viewed him with nothing but loathing and mistrust. “Mother? Where’s Mother?”

“Safe and with Padre Julio. Don’t worry she’s fine. You blocked her from it. Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Mr Barkley.” Padre Julio called. “Is every thing all right there, do you need anything?”

With Nick’s attention on the Padre, Heath tried to stand. The minute he tried to put any pressure on his right wrist he felt pain. Looking down at the joint he could see that it had swollen to twice its normal size. This wasn’t a twist; this was a sprain and a bad one.

“Damn.” He muttered.

“Something wrong?” Nick swung back to face him.

“Nope every things fine.”

“Well come on Mother’s rather anxious to see for herself that you’re okay.”

“Do you know why or who Padre?” Nick asked after he and Heath had joined Victoria and the Padre.

“Fernando Gaspard and his Spanish workers.” Julio replied. “They were after the music box. For what reason I don’t know.”

“And the door?”

“Diversion Gaspard said. Keep everybody busy at the front while he and his men slip out the cellar.”

“Why would he want an old music box? There’s no monetary value to it. I know that he and his mother have struggled for money in the past. But I thought that was long over.”

“Mrs Barkley, although the box is of little money value it is of great importance to both the Missions and this valley.” Julio looked at Victoria

“I know Padre and was our responsibility since we arranged for it to come here.” Victoria replied. “Don’t worry Nick and Heath will find it and bring it back. Right boys?”

“Yes Mother.” Nick almost scowled, but due to the padre’s presence managed to control himself. “Come on Heath let’s get back, get the horses and begin.”

“Mother?” Heath asked.

“You two go on I’ll stay here and help Padre Julio clean up a bit. The noise will soon have others coming to investigate.” She reached up and kissed her sons. “Now both of you are careful.”

“This won’t take long.” Nick said confidently. “A quick trip to Gaspard’s ranch, a few words, bring him back for Madden and the box for the padre.”

“Just how far is the Gaspard place?” Heath inquired as he and Nick rode along the road. Up until this morning he hadn’t even heard of the Gaspards.

“It’s the other side of Stockton from us.” Nick explained. “Only ever been there once myself. Fernando Gaspard owns and runs it. Not a big spread just a few head of cattle. He and his mother, Maria, came to the valley before our parents. She was a widow who had to take on whatever work she could to support herself and her son. Fernando worked just about every where until he got together enough money to buy his land.”

“Is Maria Gaspard still alive?”

“No, died some time back. Exhaustion so I heard.”

“And her husband?”

“Never knew what happened there some say he was a solider for the Old Spanish Governor and died in the fighting back in ‘42, other more vicious people say he left her for another woman.”

“Any of it true?

“Don’t know.” Nick abruptly turned Coco to the east. “This is it.”

The Ranch Gaspard was certainly in the more undesirable part of the district. Where the Barkley land was rich. Lush and green, here was brown dusty and semi arid. A few cattle grazed were grazing in the paddock that they pasted. A thin and almost sorry looking cattle grazing on what little sorry looking grass was about.

“Heard rumours about the state of the Gaspard land never believed them.” Nick pushed his Stetson back and surveyed the scene before him.

“And he thinks stealing that old music box is going to change this?” Heath too survyed the land. “Just don’t see it myself.”

“Let’s go the sooner we done here the better.”

“Hey Nick you get the feeling that maybe we’re not seeing the whole picture here like maybe there’s more to this ?”

“Like what?”

“Just a feeling that’s all.”

Nick paused for a moment and reflected on what Heath had just said. He still didn’t know Heath that well. Hell this was the first time Heath had been out since that incident with those rustlers. Victoria had kept him on a tight leash since then making sure he didn’t wander too far or overdo things to much and boy didn’t Heath hate it. They had just started to relax around each other and Nick had given him hell over it. Heath took it in his stride and was now starting to give him cheek back,

“Well spit it out what kind of feeling?”

The sound of branches being crunched and leaves rustling turned both of their attentions to the dry strand of trees to their right.

Unsure of just what was coming out of the trees Nick drew his gun. On instinct Heath did the same. Except his damaged wrist wouldn’t let him, the gun dropped out of his hand and he grabbed his right wrist cursing, which caused him even more pain.

In front of Coco and Charger a ranch worker stumble out of the trees and fell to the ground, bleeding heavily from a belly wound.

The sight of a stranger charging at them combined with the scent of blood caused Charger and the even more experienced Coco to rear up in protest. Nick was able to bring Coco back under control, but Heath, already hampered by a damaged wrist and with his good left hand nowhere near the reins, wasn’t so lucky and ended up on the ground doing even more damage.

“Go on.” He called to his brother as Nick dismounted Coco and ran to his side. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Nick threw the question to the ranch hand.

“Senor…Gaspard…did…” The man gasped

“Why?”

“Didn’t ….trust….anymore….gold”

“Where’s Gaspard now?” Nick pressed on, not knowing how much more time the man in front of him had.

“On….way San ….Bautista.”

“What does he want with that old box?” Heath now joined Nick.

“Inside…..clue…..old…Spanish..”

“Old Spanish what?” Nick continued

“Fortune……coins…..gold..”

“How did he know?”

“De la….Gaspar…..hid…..Fernando’s…” With that the hand breathed his last breath.

“So know we now.” Nick rose. “A fortune in old Spanish treasure, and a clue hidden in that old box.”

“That explains why.” Heath put in “But how did he know? And who is this de la Gaspar?”

“Maybe the answer’s at the house, we’ll take him with us and then search the place.”

The house wasn’t that far from where they’d found the dying man.

If the brothers had thought the land was bad, the main ranch house was worse. Dusty, in despite need of a paint, doors off or coming off their hinges, windows with either no glass or broken glass.

“Hello anybody around?” Nick sang out as they approached

It was like a ghost ranch, not a soul around.

“In the house itself?” Heath suggested

The interior was as bad as the exterior. Broken furniture, floor unswept and other indications that it hadn’t seen a woman’s touch in a long time.

“Sure he wouldn’t be that stupid as to leave anything around do you?” Nick asked.

“We can hope can’t we?” Heath replied.

“That’s what I like about you little brother, always the optimist.” Nick said as he gripped Heaths right wrist causing him to yelp in pain. “And just when were you planning to tell me about that wrist?”

“When it healed.” Heath replied defiantly.

“What did you think I was going to do? Shot you and put you out of your misery? Heath I’m your brother. I could’ve helped.” Nick studied the offending joint. “That swelling could’ve been reduced.” He looked around, grabbed Heath by his good arm and led him to the table. “Sit, and don’t move.”

The only redeeming quality that the Gaspard ranch had was a deep water well close to the back door. Drawing the bucket up Nick was delighted to discover that the water was still on the coldish side.

“Okay little brother dip your hand and wrist in there.” Nick ordered “It may help reduce that swelling, but then again because you didn’t think to mention it earlier while it was still swelling, maybe not.”

With a weary look on his face Heath did as he was told. His wrist went into the cold water and came straight back out.

“Dammit Nick that’s cold.”

“That’s the point. It’ll help reduce that swelling. Now GET IT BACK IN THERE.”

“Nick, remember that ‘little conversation’ we had about taking orders?” Heath said still eyeing the bucket wearily.

Nick smiled. He did remember that time. His jaw was sore for a week after that ‘little conversation’.

“Boy, you’re going to have to learn the difference between the boss given orders and the older brother given orders.” He said as he reached for the swollen joint and plunged it into the bucket. “ The boss gives orders cause there’s a job that needs doing and he wants to make sure it’s done. The older brother gives orders cause he’s worried or concerned for his little brother, he ‘s only trying to protect the little brother and want’s to make sure the younger brother is safe and stays that way and if injured help him.”

Heath considered all that Nick had just said, smiled and gave a nod.

Nick returned both the nod and the smile.

Another filament in the web of brotherhood had just been strengthened.

...Continued