Chapter 18: The Gold Mine Secrets

Becky's footsteps echoed on the wooden planks as she made her way through High Wind Gulch. The early morning light painted the town in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows from the buildings and the occasional horse and cart that passed by. She clutched a basket of freshly laid eggs to her chest, feeling the comforting weight of the sustenance they represented. It was a small gesture of friendship to Ruby, but it was all she could do to ease the tension that had grown between their families after the events of the night before.

As she approached Darla Dove's restaurant, the aroma of frying bacon and baking bread wafted out, mingling with the scent of Becky's feathers, which still held the faint aroma of the desert night. The screen door creaked as she pushed it open, and the bustle of the kitchen washed over her. Darla looked up from her stove, her beak curving into a smile as she spotted Becky.

"Mornin', Becky," she called out, her apron already stained from the day's cooking. "What's this?"

Becky handed over the basket with a small smile. "Just a little somethin' from our farm to say thank y'all for bein' good neighbors," she said.

Darla took the basket, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the fresh eggs. "Why Becky, you're a doll," she exclaimed. "These will do wonders for the breakfast rush!"

Becky nodded, feeling a sense of pride. Despite the troubles they faced, the Buzzards had always been known for their fertile lands and productive farm. It was one of the few ways they had earned the respect of the townspeople, even if it didn't always shield them from the whispers and stares.

"How's Harmony?" Becky asked Ruby as she took a seat at the counter. The hawk woman had come out from the backroom after doing some dish washing.

Ruby's eyes searched Becky's, reading the unspoken question beneath her words. "She's fine, Becky," she replied, her voice calm and even. "But she's got a world of questions swirlin' 'round in that little head of hers."

Becky nodded solemnly, her heart aching for the young hawk girl. "And what of Clarence?" she asked, her voice low. "What does he think of all this?"

Ruby's expression grew tight. "He's torn, Becky," she admitted, her eyes never leaving Becky's. "He's proud of Harmony for stickin' up for you and Baron, but he's also scared. This town's got a way of swallin' up secrets and spittin' out trouble…. secrets they'd rather forget."

Becky nodded in understanding. "Well, we'll just have to make sure these stay buried," she said, her voice carrying the weight of her words. "For all our sakes."

The two mothers shared a knowing look. The gold mine was a topic that had been whispered about for generations in High Wind Gulch, a place of both wonder and fear. Becky knew that the gold had brought nothing but pain and greed to those who had sought it, and she didn't want that for her son or for Harmony.

"You're right, Becky," Ruby said after a moment of thoughtful silence. "It's one thing not to shield them from the world forever, but we can teach them to be strong, to stand up for what's right, and to never let anyone tell them they're not good enough because of who they are or who their folks are."

Becky nodded, her eyes misting over with a hint of gratitude. "I just don't want Baron to think he's lesser 'cause of the color of his feathers or the name we gave him," she whispered. "He's got a good heart, and I reckon that's all that matters."

Ruby nodded in agreement, her hand covering Becky's. "And Harmony, she's got the heart of a hawk," she said. "Strong and fierce, just like her pa. She'll do right by us, I know it."

Ruby and Becky sat in a comfortable silence, sipping their tea as the early morning light grew brighter outside the restaurant windows. The clatter of dishes and the occasional burst of laughter from the kitchen staff filled the air, a familiar and comforting sound that seemed to push the shadows of the past further away.

Finally, Becky broke the silence. "You know, we had to give Baron a bit of a talkin'-to last night," she began. "He's been punished with extra chores and no fun for a week."

Ruby's eyes widened. "Oh Becky, I'm so sorry," she said, her grip on Becky's hand tightening. "Harmony's got the same. Clarence and I had quite the discussion with her about the risks she took."

Becky managed a small chuckle. "I reckon our young 'uns are more alike than we thought," she said, her voice tinged with both fondness and exasperation. "They're both so full of spirit, always eager to explore the world and make it right. But they ain't ready to know too much so soon."

The two women sipped their tea, lost in their own thoughts. The legend of the gold mine had been a part of their lives for as long as they could remember, whispered around campfires and in hushed tones when the moon was high. Old Man Travis had been the boogeyman of their childhood, a cautionary tale used to scare them into obedience. But as they grew older, the story had taken on a different meaning. It was no longer just a campfire ghost story; it was a reminder of the darkness that could lurk within the hearts of men, even in a town as bright and vibrant as High Wind Gulch.

"I remember when I first heard 'bout Old Man Travis," Becky began, her voice low. "My pa told me the story when I was no older than Baron. He was a greedy man, they say, always lookin' for a shortcut to wealth. And when he found that tunnel, well, he thought he'd struck it rich. But instead, he brought a curse upon himself and those poor souls who followed him."

Ruby nodded, her eyes dark with memory. "The same with me," she said. "Clarence's pa warned him about it when we were courting. Said that gold was never worth the price you pay for it. And after what we've seen, I reckon he was right."

The women shared a knowing look. They had both grown up with the shadow of Old Man Travis's greed hanging over their town, a cautionary tale that had been passed down from parent to child for generations. It was said that he had been a charismatic figure, convincing a whole crew of miners to follow him into the desert in search of untold riches. But he had been the only one to return, and the stories of what had happened in that forsaken place had kept the children of High Wind Gulch in line for years. Whether or not the gold mine was in any way connected to such a place like Phantom Valley, nobody wanted to find out of its rumored and legendary existence. In all the stories told of ghosts, spirits, lost souls, and demons, it was one of those things that folks believed would be better left unknown.

"My grandpa used to say that Old Man Travis was cursed," Becky murmured, her eyes distant. "That he was never right in the head."

Ruby's gaze grew thoughtful. "Mine too," she said. "They all talked about the screams that echoed through the canyon that night, the unearthly howls that made even the toughest of buzzards and hawks tremble in their nests. It was like the valley itself was weepin'."

Becky's feathers stood on end at the memory of the story told. "The townsfolk say that Old Man Travis was never the same after that night," she whispered. "He'd sit in the saloon, mumblin' to himself about shadows and gold-hungry specters that chased him outta the mines."

Ruby nodded solemnly. "My mother said it was because of his greed," she shared. "That he had no respect for the land or the spirits that lived there, and they took his crew as punishment."

Becky shivered. "My pa said the same thing," she replied. "But it ain't just the young'uns, Ruby. Sometimes, I reckon we're all too afraid to face the facts of what went down."

Ruby nodded in agreement. "We'll keep this to ourselves," she decided. "For now, at least. When they're older, we'll tell 'em the truth. But only when they're ready to bear it."

Baron, meanwhile, was already knee-deep in his punishment, his mind racing with thoughts of gold and adventure as he worked under the hot sun. The chores felt endless, but he knew he had to pay for his disobedience. His pa had taught him that actions had consequences, and he had to learn to be more responsible, especially if he was going to be a man of his word in the town someday.

As he scrubbed the chicken coop with a brush and a pail of soapy water, he couldn't help but rub his sore bottom every now and then, wincing at the sting from the strap that Avery had used that morning. It served as a painful reminder of the seriousness of the situation, and the need to keep their family's secret hidden for more than one good reason. The chickens clucked and squawked around him, seemingly amused by his discomfort.

"You think it's funny?" Baron grumbled at them, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. "You're next on the list if ya don't pipe down!" He knew the chickens couldn't understand him, but it made him feel a smidge better to think they were getting a taste of his punishment, too.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on his back as he worked. The water in the pail grew murky with chicken droppings and feathers, and the smell of the soapy mess filled the coop. The chickens, seemingly unfazed by his grumbling, pecked at the ground around him, looking for any stray bits of feed he might have missed. Baron couldn't help but feel a little sorry for them. They had to live in this stinky place all the time. But his pity was quickly overshadowed by the heat and his sore bottom.

With a sigh, he set the pail down and made his way to Becky's garden. It was always a peaceful place, a small patch of green in the dusty landscape of High Wind Gulch. The flowers and vegetables grew tall and strong under her care, and the sight of them always made him feel a little better about his life. He picked up a small hand trowel and began to dig at the weeds, his mind wandering to the mysteries of the gold mine and the enchanted fabric. It was so much more exciting than the daily grind of chores.

As he worked, Becky watched him from the kitchen window, a proud look on her face. Despite the troubles of the town and the constant struggle against prejudice, she had always managed to keep a garden that was the envy of their neighbors. It was her little piece of home, a reminder of the life she had left behind in Buzzard's Spring. The smell of the fresh earth and the sweetness of the blooming flowers brought her comfort, and she hoped that it would do the same for her son.

Baron knew that the garden was his mother's sanctuary, a place where she could escape from the harsh realities of the world outside. He approached the task with a newfound respect, each weed he pulled a symbol of the negativity that threatened to choke the goodness of their lives. As he worked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the strength that Becky had instilled in him, and the love that had carried them through so much.

But the serenity of the garden was shattered by the glint of something shiny peeking from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw a figure in the distance, partially hidden behind the crest of the hill. It was Edmund Nosedive, the very embodiment of the town's prejudice, peering down at him through a pair of binoculars. The young eagle's beak twisted into a smug smile as he watched Baron toil away, his sharp eyes gleaming with a malicious glint.

Baron's feathers bristled at the sight of the eagle. Despite the warmth of the sun, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He knew Edmund was trouble, the kind that didn't come from ghost stories or forgotten mines, but from the living, breathing creatures that roamed the streets of High Wind Gulch. He had seen the way Edmund and his gang of bullies had picked on the less fortunate, the smaller, the different. It was a cruelty that seemed to come as naturally to them as breathing.

But Becky had taught him that two wrongs didn't make a right, and he had enough on his plate without starting a fight. He bent back to his work, trying to ignore the watching eyes. The dirt beneath his boots was cool and soothing, a stark contrast to the heat of the day. He focused on the task at hand, the rhythm of his breathing and the steady scrape of the trowel. It was a mindless job, but it had a certain calming effect, allowing him to push away the whispers of doubt and fear that seemed to cling to him like the dust on his feathers.

Just as he was starting to feel a bit better, the sound of laughter from the hill sent a chill through him. He looked up again, but this time, Edmund was gone. The sun was directly overhead now, casting harsh shadows across the landscape. Baron squinted, trying to find any sign of the eagle, but there was nothing but the occasional tumbleweed rolling by. Had he only been imagining things lately from all the hard work?

"Baron, what's got you spooked?" Avery's voice echoed from the porch, breaking the silence. Baron took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"It's nothin', Pa," he called back, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just the heat is all."

Avery's gaze lingered on his son for a moment before he nodded and turned to go back inside. But he knew that look. That was the same look Becky had had when she'd first told him about the gold mine. It was the look of someone hiding something important, something that could change everything. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry. What kind of trouble had Baron and Harmony stumbled into this time?

As the afternoon wore on, the tension in the Buzzard household grew thicker than the dust storms that sometimes swept through the gulch. Becky could feel it in the air, a heaviness that seemed to weigh down every feather and furrowed brow. She knew that Avery was thinking the same thing she was. What secrets were their children keeping from them?

Baron, for his part, was trying his best to put on a brave face. He knew that Edmund and his gang were capable of anything, and the thought of them finding out about the gold mine or the enchanted fabric was enough to make his heart race. But he was also aware of the burden that came with knowledge. The adults had their own battles to fight, and he didn't want to add to their worries.

The chickens, seemingly sensing his unease, grew quieter, their clucks turning into low murmurs as they watched him work. It was almost as if they knew that he was carrying the weight of the world on his young shoulders. Baron took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. He had to be strong, not just for himself, but for his family and his friend.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the garden, Becky called out to him. "Supper's almost ready, Baron," she said gently. "Why don't you come on in and wash up?"

Baron nodded, dropping the trowel into the dirt. He had barely made a dent in the weeds, but he knew Becky would understand. He followed the path to the house, the chickens squawking in protest at his departure. The screen door creaked open, and the cool air of the kitchen washed over him like a wave of relief. Becky was at the stove, frying up some fresh-caught fish from the river, and the smell of it made his stomach rumble.

But as he stepped inside, the chill that had settled in his bones didn't dissipate. He couldn't shake the feeling that Edmund's gaze was still on him, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It was a feeling that grew stronger with every step he took away from the garden, hoping that he was only imagining things lately and that it was nothing.

Avery looked up from the newspaper, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of Baron's tense posture. "You okay, son?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

Baron nodded, trying to shake off the feeling. "Just... just the wind," he lied, his heart racing faster than the wild mustangs they sometimes saw galloping across the mesa. He couldn't tell them about Edmund's watching eyes, not yet. They had enough to deal with. But he knew he couldn't keep it to himself forever.

As they sat down to eat, the conversation remained light, but the air was charged with unspoken words. Becky said a quick grace, and they all dug into their plates, the sound of forks scraping against plates echoing in the tense silence. Avery talked about the repairs he'd made to the barn that day, and Becky shared stories about her customers at the hat shop. But the shadow of the gold mine and the haunted valley lingered, a specter at the dinner table.

Baron could feel Edmund's presence even though he couldn't see him. It was a cold, heavy weight that made him feel like he was being watched by something unseen. He tried to focus on his food, but the feeling grew stronger with each passing minute. He had to say something, had to do something to break the tension.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he set down his fork and looked directly at his pa. "Pa, I need to tell you somethin'." Avery looked up from his plate, his eyes meeting Baron's with a mix of curiosity and concern. Becky paused mid-bite, her eyes flicking between her son and her husband. Baron took a deep breath. "Me and Harmony... we've been doin' some explorin'. Found out some stuff about the gold mine... and Old Man Travis's treasure. And... there's more to it than just a ghost story." His voice was steady, but his heart hammered in his chest like a drum at a hoedown.

Avery and Becky exchanged a worried glance before turning their full attention to their son. "What do you mean, 'more to it'?" Becky asked, setting her plate aside.

Baron looked down at his food, his appetite suddenly gone. "Well, we found this diary, Pa. It belonged to Old Man Travis. It's got all these stories about the gold mine and... and how it's all connected to the town's history."

Avery's face grew stern. "Son, I know you're curious, but some things are best left in the past. That gold mines got more troubles than a two-tailed skunk. It ain't no place for young'uns like you and Harmony to be pokin' around in."

Becky's eyes searched her son's, her voice soft but firm. "Your pa's right, Baron. That diary is a relic of a time we've all worked hard to forget. It's filled with pain and heartache that's not meant for you to carry."

Baron felt the weight of their words, but the burden of his secret was too much to keep hidden. "But Pa, Ma, we can't just ignore it. There's something... something important we need to do." His voice trailed off, unsure of what that something was, but knowing it was significant.

Avery's expression grew sterner. "Baron, don't go blabbin' 'bout that gold mine or diary again. Ain't no business of yours. You got plenty on yer plate with school 'round the bend and them chores to tend to." He paused, his gaze softening slightly. "You're a fine young'un, and I reckon I don't want ya stirrin' up trouble that ain't your own." Avery didn't like to be harsh with their son, but he and Becky knew that as parents, it was their responsibility to show who was in charge of everything in the house.

Becky reached over and placed a comforting wing on Baron's shoulder. "Listen to us son," she said gently. "Some burdens out here are too weighty for little wings like yours. You and Harmony are just young'uns, and there's a heap of time to wrangle the tough truths of yesteryear." She squeezed his shoulder lightly before letting her wing drop back to her side. "Fer now, let's rustle up our thoughts on today an' tomorrow. The rest'll hitch a ride when the time's right."

Baron nodded reluctantly, his eyes dropping to his plate. He knew his parents meant well, but he couldn't shake the feeling that their words were like a dam holding back a flood of important information. Yet, he also understood the unspoken message beneath their words—the adults had their own battles to fight, and they were trying to shield him from the storm that was brewing in High Wind Gulch.

"Yes, Pa. Yes, Ma," he murmured, pushing his food around with his fork. The fried fish Becky had prepared looked delicious, but now it just tasted like the bitter truth of secrets and responsibilities he wasn't quite ready to digest.

Avery took a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Baron's face. "Now, eat up," he said firmly. "You got chores to do tomorrow, and I don't want to hear no nonsense 'bout you bein' too tired to pay attention."

"I know it ain't our place, Pa," Baron mumbled, his voice barely above the sound of the chickens outside. "But what if there's somethin' in that diary that could help us? Maybe it could tell us why folks are still so hateful towards us buzzards."

Avery sighed heavily, setting down his coffee cup. "Baron, you know I ain't got no love for them Nosedives or the prejudiced coyotes that come with 'em. But some fights are best left to the mayor and the sheriff. They got the badges and the backing to deal with the likes of 'em. You just focus on growin' up strong and smart, and maybe one day, you'll be the one with the answers we all need."

Baron nodded, pushing his plate away. "I know, Pa. But it's just... it feels like it's all connected, somehow. Like if we could just figure out what's goin' on, maybe everyone would see us for who we are." Becky reached over and took his wing in her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You're right, son. Maybe one day you'll be the one to make a difference," she said, her voice filled with hope. "But for now, you gotta trust that Clarence and the mayor are doin' all they can to keep the peace and make sure everyone's treated right."

Baron nodded, though his thoughts remained troubled. He knew that Harmony was going through her own struggles, her mother, Ruby, worried about her getting involved in the dangerous secrets of the town. He had promised to keep her safe, to be the friend she needed when the shadows of discrimination and fear grew too dark.

After dinner, as the night air grew cooler, Baron found solace in the quiet company of his mother in the garden. The scent of the night-blooming flowers filled the air, and the distant sound of a lone coyote's howl reminded him of the vast, mysterious world beyond their fence. Becky noticed his restlessness and took a seat beside him on the porch swing.

"What's on your mind, little buzzard?" she asked, her voice a soft drawl that could soothe even the wildest of critters.

Baron took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs. "Ma, I can't shake the feeling that there's something big coming, something we gotta be ready for."

Becky looked at him with a knowing smile. "Son, you got the instincts of an old buzzard. But remember, sometimes the biggest battles are fought in the quiet moments before the storm. You and Harmony, you keep your heads low and your eyes open. There's more to life than gold and power, and I reckon that's what makes you two special." She paused, plucking a petal from a moonflower. "But when the time does come, I know you'll be ready. You got the heart of a lion, Baron. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Baron leaned into his mother's warm embrace, feeling the comfort of her feathers against his skin. "Thanks, Ma," he murmured. "I'll remember that."

Becky pulled back and looked into her son's eyes, her own filled with a mix of pride and sorrow. "Baron, life's like a wild horse," she said, her voice taking on the lilt of a storyteller. "It bucks and it bolts, but if ya hang on tight and keep your wits about ya, you'll ride it out to the end of the trail."

Baron nodded, the metaphor sticking in his mind. His mother always had a way with words, a way of making the harshness of the world seem a little more manageable. Becky knew that her son was destined for great things, but she also knew that the path ahead was fraught with challenges that no youngling should have to face too soon right away.

With the comfort of Becky's embrace still surrounding him, Baron felt a slight shift in the weight on his shoulders. He knew that she had faced her own battles in the past, and if she had come out of them standing tall, then surely, he could too. Her strength was a beacon that guided him through the fog of uncertainty that clouded his young mind.

The following days passed with a mix of unease and normalcy. Baron went about his chores, trying to push the whispers of the gold mine and the town's secrets to the back of his thoughts. Yet, every time he saw the townsfolk interacting with his family, the way they looked at them, talked to them—or worse, talked about them when they thought no one was listening—he couldn't help but feel a simmering anger. He knew that High Wind Gulch had a way of keeping its secrets, but he was determined that he and Harmony would unearth the truth and show everyone what the vultures of their town were truly made of. But following the advice of his parents, he decided to give it a rest and let the other adults take care of it for now.

Meanwhile, in the shadows of the distant hills, Edmund Nosedive had been watching the Buzzard family through a pair of binoculars that belonged to his father. His curiosity had been piqued by Baron's sudden interest in the gold mine, and he knew that information was power. If the Buzzards had stumbled upon something that could threaten his family's status, he had to know about it. He'd seen the way Becky had handled that piece of enchanted fabric he heard about, and the whispers of her family's past with the gold mine had reached his ears. There was something there, something that could be exploited.

Edmund's beady eyes followed Baron as he worked alongside Becky in the garden. He watched as they spoke in hushed tones, their gestures animated, and his heart raced at the thought of what secrets they might be sharing. He scribbled notes into a small booklet, trying to piece together the puzzle that was the Buzzard family. Every little detail could be a clue to their ultimate downfall.

When the Buzzards weren't looking, Edmund signaled to his gang, and they retreated back to the safety of the Nosedive mansion. The grandeur of the building stood tall against the horizon, a stark contrast to the modest homes of High Wind Gulch. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of Edna's latest potion-brewing experiments, a constant reminder of the power they sought to wield.

Edmund gathered his band of bullies, eager to share the juicy tidbits he'd overheard. They huddled around a large, ornate table in the library, where they often concocted their schemes. The flickering candlelight danced in their eyes as they listened intently, their feathers bristling with excitement at the prospect of bringing down the Buzzards.

"Baron's been actin' mighty strange," Edmund began, his voice low and menacing. "He's been pokin' around the gold mine, talkin' 'bout some diary he found. I reckon it's gotta be somethin' important, somethin' that could ruin our chances of takin' over this town."

Billy Bob Fork-Tongue, Raveena, and Orville, all with the same sneering expressions as their leader, leaned in closer, eager for the juicy details. "What's in the diary, Edmund?" Billy Bob, the lizard boy asked him.

"I don't know yet, but it's gotta be somethin' big," Edmund replied, his voice full of smugness. "But I got a feelin' it's got somethin' to do with the house on the hill, and maybe even the gold mine."

Raveena, the sly crow, tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The gold mine's been closed off for ages, ain't it? What could they possibly know that we don't?"

Orville, the owl, squinted his eyes in contemplation. "Maybe it's got somethin' to do with Becky's enchanted hat fabric. Remember how she handled it like it was made of gold?"

Raveena would then argue in protest to that. "How? Last we heard of that thing, it was all returned back to that strange pigeon lady, and nobody has seen it since."

"Well, maybe Becky has some of it," Orville suggested, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of finding something of value. "We should keep an eye on 'em, especially that hawk girl, Harmony. She's always with him."

Edmund nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You're onto something, Orville. Harmony might be our way in. After all, she's the sheriff's daughter. If she knows something, she'll likely tell Baron. And if he knows something..." He let the sentence hang in the air, a sinister smile spreading across his beak.

"But how do we get close to her without tippin' our hand?" Billy Bob spoke up, his tongue flicking nervously over his teeth.

"Leave that to me," Edmund said with a smirk. "We'll start by befriending her. Make her think we're just regular joes lookin' to make amends for our past transgressions. Once she lets her guard down, we'll strike."

The gang nodded in agreement, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Billy Bob spoke up, his tongue flicking nervously. "But what if she sees through us?"

Edmund scoffed, his confidence unshaken. "She's just a hawk girl. What's she gonna do, read our minds?" The room filled with cruel laughter, echoing off the high ceilings of the Nosedive mansion. Just as the laughter began to die down, the sound of footsteps approached from the hallway. Edna Nosedive swept into the room, her feathers brushing against the ornate furniture as she walked.

Her eyes fell upon the group of young predators huddled around the table, and she couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. "Ah, I see the young minds of High Wind Gulch are already plotting the future," she said, her voice like velvet over a knife's edge. "What treasures of wisdom have you uncovered today, my dear?"

Edmund stepped forward, his chest puffing out slightly. "We've just been discussing the town's history, Ma. You know, the parts that don't get taught in school."

Edna's eyes narrowed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Ah, the parts that involve the greatness of the Nosedive family, no doubt." She strode over to the table, her long, flowing dress whispering against the floorboards.

The young predators grew silent, their smirks fading away as they looked up at her. "Ma'am," they murmured in unison, trying to appear innocent.

Edna's eyes swept over them, her gaze sharp as a hawk's. "I trust you're not planning any mischief, my dear children?" Her voice was like a serpent coiling around their hearts, but she couldn't completely hide the twinkle of amusement in her gaze.

Edmund shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Oh, no, ma'am," he said, trying to sound as innocent as a cobra in a field of mice. "We were just...talkin' about the old gold mine, is all. And that ol' legend of Old Man Travis."

Edna's eyes lit up like a pair of polished diamonds. "Ah, yes," she said, her voice taking on a faraway quality. "The gold mine. I've heard the whispers of that legend since I was a young chick. It's said that Old Man Travis discovered it, but it was cursed, you know. Filled with treasure that could make or break a family."

Her gaze grew distant, lost in the shadows of the past. "Travis was a vulture, like Becky," she murmured. "He had the gift of the land, could speak to the spirits. But when he found the gold, greed took hold. He tried to keep it all for himself, didn't care who he hurt along the way." Her words hung heavy in the air, each one a dark stone sinking into the murky waters of High Wind Gulch's history. "The land took vengeance," she continued, her voice a whisper of the wind that had carried the tale through generations. "It swallowed up the mine and everything he held dear. The gold was never seen again."

Edmund's feathers stood on end as he realized the gravity of Becky's connection to the legend. If Old Man Travis was indeed a vulture, and the gold mine was truly cursed, then Becky could be the key to it all. The room grew still as they all digested the information, the candle flickering as if in agreement with the gravity of the story.

"So, Becky's family is the same as Old Man Travis?" Billy Bob spoke up, his voice shakier than usual. The thought of being associated with something so powerful and cursed was unsettling.

"It's just a legend," Orville scoffed, trying to dispel the tension. "But still, if there's even a grain of truth to it, we might be onto something big."

Edmund's thoughts raced. If Becky was related to Old Man Travis, then maybe she had inherited some of his "gifts." Perhaps the enchanted fabric was just the tip of the iceberg, a gateway to the wealth and power that could be hidden in the gold mine. His heart raced at the thought of the gold, the power, the prestige that could be theirs if they could only get their talons on it.

"But wait," Raveena said, her eyes wide with excitement. "What if the legend's true? What if there's really a Phantom Valley that leads to the gold mine?"

The room was silent for a moment with only sound the crackling of the fireplace. Then, one by one, Edmund's friends began to murmur, their imaginations running wild with the possibilities.

Edna's gaze sharpened, snapping the group out of their reverie. "Now, now," she chided, her voice firm but not unkind. "Young minds should not be bothered with such fanciful notions. We have more pressing matters to attend to, like getting your father back and ensuring that Callahan Condor never darkens our doors again." The children looked at each other, a mix of disappointment and guilt washing over them. They knew they weren't supposed to be talking about the gold mine or the cursed Phantom Valley, but the allure of the legend was too strong to resist. With a wave of her hand, Edna dismissed them, her smile fading into a stern look. "Go on, now. Your schoolwork won't do itself."

AN: Looks like the Nosedive family refuses to give up so soon when they are this close to getting what they are after but try hard not to expose themselves too soon and ruin everything, which is what she is seeing that Edmund does not do when he is sent to spy on the Buzzard family and everything, knowing his enemies would squeal on him if spotted. And is Old Man Travis really related to Becky's family bloodline or is that just a suspicion that the Nosedive family has? Who knows. Guess we'll find out much later.