The small party gathered in front of the hotel and stared at the dilapidated half-fallen building. “Even if the gold’s hidden somewhere on the second floor, that place isn’t safe,” Jeannie remarked. “Besides, there’s no way of reaching it now.”
“Sure there is.” Adam glanced about. “Get me a rope and I’ll give you a short demonstration of my Airborne training.”
“Adam!” Jeannie cried, putting her hand on his forearm. “It’s too dangerous!”
“You love him, don’t you?” Val taunted her.
Jeannie didn’t hesitate. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
It did Travis’s heart good to see her set Val back a step with her honesty. Jeannie, at least, had nothing to be ashamed of in the man she’d chosen to love.
“I’ve got a rope in my truck,” Grady volunteered, and took off at a trot up the path to the limestone bluff where the vehicles were parked.
Grady returned twenty minutes later, sweating from the exertion of his climb, the rope draped over one shoulder. He handed it to Adam and they all stepped back and watched as the sheriff expertly swung the rope to the hotel’s second-story balcony and anchored it on the railing. He tested it carefully, then decided it would support his weight.
Adam hadn’t exaggerated his climbing skills, and Travis watched in amazement as the younger man hauled himself up onto the balcony.
Jeannie stood there, hands covering her mouth. It was obvious she didn’t want to watch Adam in danger, but at the same time couldn’t stop herself. “Be careful,” she called, once Adam had made it safely.
“Don’t take any unnecessary chances,” Travis shouted.
“Just find something,” Grady added.
Val glared at them all and shook her head. “You’re out of your minds, every last one of you.”
Adam disappeared into the hotel and a few minutes later, they heard the sound of wood splintering. Travis felt a jolt of alarm. If anything happened to the sheriff, he’d feel personally responsible.
“Adam,” Jeannie screamed, moving forward.
“It’s okay.” The sheriff’s voice was steady.
“This is crazy,” Val said, directing the comment at Travis.
Much as he hated to admit it, Val was right. Proving his theory wasn’t worth injury to Sheriff Jordan or anyone else. It occurred to him now that if word of a hidden treasure got out, it’d spread through the community like wildfire. Before long, strangers would swarm the countryside in search of lost gold coins. Their community, indeed the entire hill country, would never be the same—and it would be his doing. His fault.
“What’s happening?” Jeannie asked anxiously.
“Adam’s fine,” Grady said confidently.
“How can you say for sure?”
“We’d know.” Travis stood next to Jeannie, who gazed intently at the hotel.
It couldn’t have been any longer than fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours before a triumphant Adam appeared, holding up a leather pouch. “I found it!” he shouted. “He’d hidden it just the way Travis suspected. It was tucked in a cupboard. I might never have stumbled on it if the weight of it hadn’t broken through the rotting wood.”
“What is it?” Grady called up to him.
Adam laughed. “Gold! Pure gold!”
Grady stared back in astonishment, slowly shaking his head.
Travis’s hunch had been correct. The date of the robbery and the date of the hanging in Bitter End—that was the link. How and when the renegades had hidden the gold in Bitter End, and why they never retrieved it, would probably always be a mystery. Travis figured he might never know exactly how Richard had gotten his hands on it, either.
Travis suspected that Grady’s brother must have discovered it while exploring the town during those weeks he spent there. Perhaps One-Eyed Jack had placed it at the bottom of a well or under the boardwalk. The possibilities were endless. Once Richard had located it, he must have secured it in the hotel, knowing few would risk investigating the second floor. But his plan had backfired when the staircase collapsed on him.
Trapped as he was now in a prison cell, Weston must have been frantic that someone would uncover his find. All his supposed concern about people’s safety and not “commercializing” the ghost town had been a futile effort to keep anyone else from finding the gold.
“I don’t believe it,” Val murmured repeatedly. “I just don’t believe it.”
“Believe it, Ms. Langley,” Grady advised. “Now you know the truth about Richard. He planned on dumping you as soon as you got him out of prison. Join the club. We’ve all been used by Richard. You weren’t the first and you surely won’t be the last.”
Val couldn’t wait to leave Texas. The very minute Travis dropped her off at the ranch, she began packing her bags, stuffing her clothes roughly into the suitcase. Dammit, she’d actually believed Richard Weston. Believed in him. The bastard!
The worst of it was she’d fallen for Richard, opened her heart to him. She wouldn’t have traveled to this back-of-beyond town if she hadn’t trusted him. She’d even told that bumpkin of a schoolteacher that she and Richard had no secrets from each other. He’d made a fool of her. An utter fool.
As far as Val could figure, everything Richard had told her was a lie. Everything. Including the way he felt about her, and dammit, that hurt. More than she wanted to admit.
A polite knock sounded on the bunkhouse door.
“Who is it?” Val snapped.
“Nell.”
Oh, great, Ms. Jolly Green Giant. “What do you want?”
“I just need to know if you’re planning on staying much longer.”
Val walked across the room and threw open the door. “Frankly, I can’t get out of this state fast enough.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The last thing Val wanted to deal with was a Merry Sunshine attitude. “Spare me the bull. You’re just as glad to be rid of me.”
Nell shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“Whatever.” Val searched for her purse, buried beneath the clothes flung across the bed. “How much do I owe you?” she asked once she’d found her wallet. She begrudged every cent she’d wasted on this trip. Richard had been after her for weeks, urging her to meet his family, to see Bitter End for herself. His biggest concern had been the ghost town—and now she understood why.
“Listen, Val, your stay is on the house.”
Val stiffened. “I don’t need your charity.”
“It isn’t charity,” Nell said. “I was grateful for the opportunity to get to know you. You might not think so, but we actually have something in common. We both love or have loved the same man.”
“I’ll pay you what I agreed.”
“If you insist,” Nell said with a certain sadness. “But I do want you to know I’m sorry Richard hurt you.”
It would have been easier for Val to deal with ridicule from Travis’s wife than her kindness. The tears that sprang to her eyes felt like acid. It’d been years, literally years, since she’d broken down and cried. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she covered her face with both hands.
“Oh, Val.”
“Just leave me alone,” she said angrily, and not having a tissue handy, she reached for her purse and scrambled through it.
“Here,” Nell said, handing her a tissue from her apron pocket.
Val blew her nose and still the tears came. “I was such a fool,” she sobbed, “such an idiot.”
“It’s all right,” Nell said in a soft comforting tone. “We’re all fools at one time or another.”
The compassion, the understanding, was more than Val could take and she shocked herself by turning toward Nell.
The woman she’d considered the Jolly Green Giant, Miss Merry Sunshine, an unsophisticated hick, gently placed her arms around Val and patted her back.
“Richard’s going to pay for this.” Val was sobbing openly.
“Life has a way of setting things straight,” Nell said.
Val pulled herself together a little. “I’m going to make sure it does.” She didn’t intend to waste a minute, either. She was going to set the wheels of vengeance turning as fast as she could. She’d begin working on it during the flight home. Before she was through, Val would ensure that Richard Weston spent a very long time in prison. No one was more familiar with his case than she was. In all the months she’d spent studying the legal aspects, she’d seen a number of points of law she could get him on. He’d been fortunate to have several charges slip through the cracks. It would be easy to shine a light on those areas.
That wasn’t all. She was well aware of the activities Richard participated in behind bars. Little things most prisoners did to make life easier. Smuggling and trading contraband, turning snitch, stealing. Nothing really serious. But perhaps it was time someone let the parole review board know about Richard’s prison involvements. He was going to pay, by heaven. Richard Weston would rue the day he’d used and abused Valerie Langley.
“How about a nice hot cup of tea?” Nell asked.
Val sniffled and nodded. “That sounds great.”
Together the two women headed toward the main house, talking as they went. With tea and womanly conversation, it wasn’t long before Val’s spirits lifted. This had all been a valuable lesson and one she wouldn’t soon forget. Neither would Richard by the time she was finished with him. The bastard.
With her bags packed and her airline ticket in hand, Val bade farewell to Travis and Nell the next morning.
“Thanks for putting up with me,” she said, and meant it. If the situation had been reversed, she wasn’t sure she would have been nearly this gracious.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Nell said.
Travis had his arm around Nell’s shoulders. They were a handsome couple, Val admitted. Nell was a much better match for Travis than she’d ever been.
“Goodbye, Val,” Travis said.
But it was Nell who hugged her, and Val returned the hug. The unspoken communication between them was clear.
Who’d ever think her ex-husband’s wife would turn out to be the most understanding woman Val had ever met?
EPILOGUE
Annie gently rocked her sleepy child, cradling him in her arms and humming softly. She’d lived in Promise nearly two years now, and the town was everything Jane had said. Everything and more. She’d left California looking for a new life and she’d found it—new work, a new home, and most important, a husband and family.
The bookstore was doing well financially, although Annie was working only part-time these days. Louise Powell had always been one of her most regular customers, and soon after Annie discovered she was pregnant, she’d approached the older woman about accepting a part-time position. Louise had been thrilled and said yes almost immediately. As the pregnancy progressed, they’d reversed roles, with Louise working full-time and acting as the store’s manager. Annie took on even fewer hours to stay with her newborn son. The arrangement suited them both. Annie loved her time at home. And, busy at the store, Louise had less time to spread gossip; as a result, she’d formed several close friendships with women her age.
“Is he asleep?” Lucas asked, tiptoeing into the baby’s room.
Annie smiled lovingly at her husband and nodded. Gently she brushed the dark curls from little Luke’s brow, then stood and placed him in his crib. Lucas joined her and tucked the blanket about his sleeping son’s shoulders.
As noiselessly as possible, they moved out of the room and closed the door.
“I just got an emergency call,” Lucas told her, regretfully.
“Go,” she told him, wondering at his hesitation.
“But I was looking forward to spending a Saturday afternoon with my wife.”
Annie never tired of hearing him refer to her as his wife. It was a word she loved, and a role she loved. Just as wonderful as the other role she’d accepted when she agreed to marry Lucas: mother.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie told him, walking him to the front door.
He kissed her. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Don’t forget to pick up Heather and Hollie at two from the movie theater.”
As if she would. “I won’t forget.” She giggled. “Now go. Scoot. Be gone with you.”
“I really do love you, Annie.”
“I know.”
And she did.
Nessa Pawling sat in her kitchen with brochures from a number of different cruise lines spread across the table. She just couldn’t decide.
The back door opened and Gordon walked into the room, setting his golf clubs aside. “The Panama Canal,” Gordon whispered enticingly from behind her. Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “Frank and I talked it over, and since you women can’t seem to make up your minds, we’re doing it for you.”
“But there’s no shopping in Panama,” Nessa argued.
“You and Dovie have a dozen or more Caribbean islands where you can spend your money, and every store on every one of them takes Visa and American Express.” Gordon opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of iced tea.
“I married you for your money, you know,” she teased.
Gordon laughed. “That’s all right because I married you for yours.”
“Sylvia believes it to this day.” Actually, Gordon and Sylvia had called a truce soon after the wedding, just as Nessa had with Miles. Gordon’s son had given their marriage three months. Nessa wanted to laugh every time she thought about it. They’d been married for a year and a half now, and the honeymoon didn’t show any signs of ending.
“The kids are just worried we’re going to squander their inheritance,” Gordon said, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to her.
“We are, aren’t we? Every last penny of it.”
“It might take some real effort, but I’m willing to try if you are.”
It went without saying that she was.
“The Panama Canal, then?” Gordon asked, flipping through the colorful pages of the brochure.
“Looks like that’s the general consensus.” Nessa knew she’d enjoy the cruise, especially since Dovie and Frank would be joining them. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered if Gordon had decided to circumnavigate the globe; Nessa would have gone along for nothing more than the pleasure of his company.
Gordon kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I’d better give Dovie a call,” Nessa said, standing up. “We’ll have to plan our wardrobes. Oh, Gordon, this is going to be such fun.”
Her husband reached for a second brochure. “What would you think of a trip down the Amazon?”
“Next year, darling, next year.” She wondered if anyone in Brazil took American Express.
Cal Patterson drove the pickup through the stone gate and down the one-lane road that wound its way through Promise Cemetery. The older grave sites with their ornate markers dominated the front half, those of more recent years were situated in the back.
It’d been a month since he’d been to see his mother’s grave. Mary’s dying had been a long goodbye. But although they’d all expected it, known it was coming, Cal hadn’t been ready. Glen, neither, and certainly not their father.
Once his parents had sold the bed-and-breakfast and moved into the retirement center in San Antonio, his mother’s health had quickly deteriorated. Within a year she was gone.
Cal parked the truck and walked across the freshly cut lawn to his mother’s grave.
“Hello, Mom,” he whispered as he laid a bouquet of bluebonnets next to her headstone. “It’s been a while since I last stopped by.” He could see that his father had paid a recent visit. Whenever he came, he brought a rose.
“I have some news,” he continued in a whisper. “Jane’s pregnant again. We’re really happy. Ellie’s pregnant, too, but I imagine Glen’s already told you that.” He swallowed tightly and looked toward the sky. For years his mother h
ad wanted him to give her grandchildren. Now she’d never know them, but Cal chose to think of her watching and loving them all from heaven.
“If we have a girl this time, Jane said she wanted to name her after you.” They’d call her Mary Ann, after his mother and Jane’s closest friend, Annie Porter.
“Dad’s adjusting. It isn’t easy, but he’s managing.” Phil had returned to Promise and was living in a brand-new retirement complex. The seniors’ center in Promise had helped. Frank Hennessey had taken him under his wing and gotten Phil involved in various activities. He was trying to talk him into learning golf. Gordon Pawling was keen on it and had organized a group of retired businessmen to investigate the possibility of building a golf course right outside town. Cal had to smile every time he thought about a golf course in Promise. Those men were serious about it, though, and it wasn’t uncommon to find one or more of them practicing putting techniques in the town park.
“It’s Dad’s birthday next week, and I wanted you to know I’m getting him a set of clubs.” If Gordon, Frank and the others got their way, Phil would soon be joining them on a golf course, and Cal wanted to encourage that.
He stood with his hat in his hand for several minutes, communicating silently with his mother, struggling with the fact that their long goodbye hadn’t been long enough.
The diamond on Jeannie French’s left hand sparkled in the light of her first-grade classroom.
Adam stood in front of the children as he did every year, discussing safety and talking about a sheriff’s work, ending his talk with a demonstration involving his handcuffs. It was this part her six-year-olds always enjoyed the most.
After class, Adam lingered and helped her clean up for the day.
“I’d like a pair of those handcuffs myself,” Jeannie told him once the classroom had emptied.
“Any particular reason?” he asked with more than a hint of suggestion.
“I have a few ideas, Sheriff Jordan,” she said, doing her best to make her voice deep and sexy.
“Ms. French, you shock me.”
“Do I now?”