Disclaimer: I don't own the situations or characters portrayed herein. I'm just playing with them for a while.


Mission of Gold Part 3

Despite Dotty's assurance that Amanda had never given up on anything important, she almost died, again. They waited in the little room he had occupied before, holding onto each other, taking comfort from the only other person in the state who knew Amanda and loved her. When she was stable again, the boneless relief almost did him in.

He hadn't slept properly for days. There had been no time, between a house fire at Gus's cabin, a trip to the bank where the doubloons were being kept, a disastrous detour to Brockett's boat, and an attempt on Gus's life.

Amanda's most recent brush with death gave him the impetus he needed to do yet more investigation, now with Waterhouse's cooperation now that he knew Lee was a federal agent. They contacted the Archivo de Indias in Seville, where all the documents of the Spanish conquest of the Americas were preserved. They found out conclusively that the treasure Brockett had "found" was nothing but a money laundering scheme.

He wanted to talk to that man.


"Waterhouse has heard from the hospital."

He came back to himself suddenly, with Barney's hands on his arms. He had been in the process of killing Scott, of killing this miserable excuse of a man with his bare hands, in vengeance for shooting Amanda.

He stopped, mid-blow, and looked at the old man who had always been a father figure to him. Barney had never lied to him.

"You hear me? Waterhouse has heard from the hospital!"

He was panting now, and all he could make himself say was "What? How's Amanda?"

"He didn't say," Barney said, still trying to make him look in his eyes, instead of Scott's feebly stirring body. "Just they want you there right away."

"You watch him, Barney," he ordered. "You hear me? You watch him!"

As he ran from the garage, intent on just getting to the hospital at all costs, he felt Barney's eyes following him. He had never lost his composure so thoroughly before, and certainly not in front of Barney. He would apologize later.


She lay still, too still, but the heart monitor beeped steadily and the oxygen tent was gone.

He sank down beside the bed, feeling weak with relief and suddenly removed stress. She groaned a little and opened her eyes just enough to see him.

"Hi," he said, glad to have a reason for happiness for the first time in what felt like years.

Her smile was weak, and her words came out in a halting whisper, but she was aware and alive, and she knew him. "Hi. What happened?"

"I'll tell you all about it when you get better, okay?" He could not tell her now.

"Did you get the number of that truck?" she asked, her voice high-pitched but not quite the old squeaky tone.

"You bet I did," he said, knowing that being shot did really feel like getting hit by a truck, and glad that she had some of her humor still.

She laughed and tilted her head, asking him wordlessly for a kiss. He was happy to oblige, and he kissed her more gently than he ever had.

"No honeymoon tonight, pal," she said, trying to joke, but disappointment clouding her eyes a little.

To her it must still feel like the day after their wedding. She had been unconscious for so long.

"Aw, shucks," he replied, unable to stop smiling.

She was still stilted, but clearly she wanted to ask a very important question. "If I go to sleep, will you sit with me for a minute?"

She didn't need to wait for an answer. He would stay here for the rest of his life if he needed to.

He watched her drift slowly back into sleep for a moment, hardly daring to believe that she was really alive and that she would really be okay.

"I love you, Mrs. Stetson," he whispered, almost reverently, as he bent over to kiss her one more time.

They might not get the honeymoon they had planned, but they would have a marriage and a life together. That was far, far more important.