Mountain Moonlight - By Jane Toombs Page 0,3

booth. Or even the cafe. Despite being pleased that Davis had taken to Bram, it miffed her a little to be so totally ignored.

"Mom said I ought to make a paper copy of the map on account of the deer skin's so old and cracked and all," Davis said, "so I did." He pulled the copy from his pack and handed it to Bram.

After comparing the copy to the original, Bram nodded. "Good job."

"I tried to be careful." Davis's pleasure at the praise showed in his voice.

It occurred to Vala that she had never once, in the years before or after their divorce, heard Neal praise his son. Quite the opposite. Neal always seemed to be pointing up Davis's flaws. Two left feet. All thumbs. A snail could run faster. Couldn't throw a ball straight if your life depended on it. The name of the game is to hit the ball. Neal blamed her. She couldn't count the times he'd said so, not caring whether Davis heard or not. Look at him-- short and skinny, takes after your side of the family, even to the glasses, just like your old man.

It was true her father wore glasses. Unfortunately for Davis, her bookish father was also disappointed in the boy because he wasn't much of a reader.

"So, are you going to help us find the treasure, Mr. Hunter?" Davis asked, startling Vala. "Are you going to be our guide?"

She hadn't thought to caution her son not to mention guiding because she hadn't dreamed Davis would come far enough out of his shell to say any more than he had to-- certainly not to a stranger. She tensed, waiting for Bram's terse refusal--after all, he had crossed his name off the list.

Bram didn't reply immediately. Instead, he helped Davis roll up the deer skin. "I don't know if I can," he said at last, speaking to the boy rather than to Vala. "I've made plans that I'm not sure I can change."

He pulled a couple of bills from his pocket and jerked his head toward the electronic game at the back of the cafe. "Why don't you try your luck at zapping space monsters--my treat--while I discuss things with your mother?"

Davis hesitated but when Vala didn't say anything, he took the money Bram offered, saying, "Okay. Thanks."

Both she and Bram watched him until he got the bills changed, reached the machine and fed in the money. When the beeps and whizzes and other exotic noises began, Bram abruptly faced her.

"What in hell are you thinking of, letting your son believe in that map?" he demanded. "Or do you believe it in, too?" His tone implied that only a child or a fool would. Startled at his attack, Vala sat back and crossed her arms over her breasts. "I'm not saying the map will lead to treasure. But you must admit it is old. Like John Mokesh-- he was in his nineties. And he was also an Apache. If anyone knew Superstition Mountain in the past, the Apache did."

Bram scowled. "I don't doubt this Mokesh was old but that doesn't mean the map is. Faking age with deer skin or paper isn't difficult. Do you have any idea how many different bogus maps of the Old Dutchman Mine are in circulation? I've personally seen at least twenty variations and God only knows how many copies of each variation have been circulated since Jacob Walz died in 1891. Walz was the old Dutchman, in case you don't remember."

"I never heard of Jacob Walz. Or the Old Dutchman Mine," she said indignantly. "What does that have to do with the map Mr. Mokesh gave my son?"

"Maps purporting to lead the way to treasure somewhere in the Superstitions are a dime a dozen. And not one of them worth a damn. Apparently people never ask themselves why, if the map leads to a gold mine, the person who sold it to them didn't use the map to find the gold himself. You're setting Davis up for a mighty big disappointment. Do you think that's fair?"

She glared at him. "You have no right to criticize what I'm doing. Especially when you haven't a clue as to the circumstances."

He glared right back at her. "What are the circumstances that would lead a mother to promise her son something she can't deliver?"

"I'm not promising Davis anything!" she cried, so furious at Bram's presumption that she forgot to be careful about what she said. "All I want is for him