by Nerys Leigh
Webster frowned. “What do you mean?”
Ben jumped at a touch on his bound hands. Fortunately, neither Webster nor Hall seemed to notice.
Somehow, Kitty had managed to get free. Her fingers felt for the knot binding his wrists and he shifted his hands, trying to make it easier for her to reach.
“I mean,” Hall said, “we kill them right here and bury the bodies. No one will find them out here. I’m sure no one saw me leave with them. We can say they left and we have no idea why they didn’t make it back.”
Webster gaped at him. “I can’t kill anyone.”
“How do you know that? Have you ever tried? It’s not as hard as you’d think.”
He shook his head. “No! We can’t kill them.”
“Why not?”
“It’s wrong, that’s why not,” Webster replied, although he sounded less sure this time.
Ben silently urged Kitty to hurry.
Hall grabbed Webster’s arm and marched him to the wagon. “Is saving your career and what’s in there enough to get over your scruples?”
Webster stared at the crate containing the skull, then he looked at Ben and Kitty. “I can’t do it.”
Hall didn’t even hesitate. “Then I will. You can dig the graves.” He drew his pistol and stalked towards them.
Coward that he was, Webster turned away.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ben said desperately. “This isn’t worth our lives. Just go. We won’t say anything.”
Hall came to a halt in front of them and took aim at Kitty’s head. “Nothing personal, you understand. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. I’ll do her first, so she doesn’t have to watch you die.”
“No!” Ben’s gut clenched as Hall’s finger brushed the trigger. “Please, you don’t…”
The pressure of the rope around his wrists abruptly released.
Whipping his hands from behind him, he grabbed Hall’s extended arm and yanked him off balance. Hall landed on his knees, his wrist still trapped in Ben’s grasp.
He swung a punch with his free hand, grunting in pain when Ben jerked out of the way and his fist hit the wheel behind him instead.
Webster spun round to see the scuffle happening behind him. Uttering a strangled gasp, he fumbled for the gun at his waist.
Kitty scrambled to her feet and launched herself for him as he drew his weapon. Grabbing his hand, she twisted, just like Ben had taught her.
Hall grasped his pistol with his free hand, trying to force it from Ben’s grip, and Kitty disappeared from view as the two of them rolled across the ground, grappling for the gun.
Ben had been in his share of fights, but apparently so had Hall, and he struggled to hold onto the pistol as they traded punches and wrestled for the weapon.
And then somehow Hall managed to pin him to the ground.
He twisted his wrist from Ben’s grasp and thrust the gun into his face, and suddenly Ben was staring at his death.
“GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY HUSBAND!”
Their heads whipped round to see Kitty, breathing heavily, clutching Webster’s pistol with the muzzle aimed at Hall.
Ben had never heard her shout before. He hadn’t been sure she even could.
Webster lay face down on the ground beyond her, his wrists tied behind his back.
“You won’t shoot me,” Hall said, moving his eyes back to Ben.
Kitty took two steps towards them, the gun in her hand pointing squarely at Hall’s head. “Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
It was probably inappropriate, given the circumstances, but Ben had never been more attracted to a woman in his life.
Staring down at him, Hall gritted his teeth, gave a growl of frustration, and released him.
Ben grabbed the gun and pushed to his feet. “Face down on the ground, hands behind you.”
Throwing a glare at them both, Hall obeyed.
Ben untangled the rope he’d been bound with from the wagon wheel and tied Hall’s hands and feet securely.
It was only when he walked over to Kitty that he noticed the slight tremble of the muzzle of the revolver she held.
Placing his hand on the barrel, he slowly pushed it down before kissing her forehead. “Kitten, you are magnificent.”
She raised her eyes to his and a slow smile blossomed on her lips. “I think I’m going to like being a Pinkerton agent.”
He barked a laugh. “And you’re going to be an exceptionally good one.”
He meant every word. In the eight days since they’d met, she’d come a remarkably long way. He would never have guessed, when he first laid eyes on the timid girl cowering in the corner of Archie’s office, that she would so quickly transform into the woman who had now saved his life twice and could best a man in a fight. But he suspected she’d been that woman all along. It just took a little self-confidence for it to show.
They walked over to the wagon and Ben reached for the crate. “How about we find out why this dinosaur skull is so valuable?”
The crate turned out to be heavier than he was anticipating, but he did his best to lift it down without betraying to Kitty how much effort it took. With it on the ground, he prized open the lid to reveal the skull inside, wrapped in sacking and cushioned by wood shavings. Ben lifted it out and together they unwrapped the huge fossilized bone.
“Well, it’s big,” Ben said, staring at the massive, dirt-encrusted skull.
Kitty glanced at Webster. “Why hasn’t it been cleaned up like the other bones?”
He didn’t reply.
“What can you see?” Ben asked her.
She circled the skull slowly, finally crouching beside it to touch the dirt filling what he assumed was an eye socket. “There are finger impressions here, like someone pushed the soil back in.”
He remembered their search of the finds tent several days before. “That pile of dirt that looked like it had been scraped up.”
She nodded, scratching at the dried dirt with her fingernails. “It’s hard. Do you have anything I can get it out with?”
He cast about for something she could use, finally settling on a small rock narrowed and sharpened at one end by the elements.
“Be careful!” Webster cried as she began to scrape the dried soil from the eye socket.
She glanced at Ben and they exchanged a smile before she set about clearing out the dirt with renewed vigor. There was no doubt now that they were onto something.
When the last of the dirt dropped out in a lump, Kitty sat back, her eyes wide. “Is that what I think it is?”
Ben tilted the skull so the sun could shine into the hole she’d uncovered. Even though he was looking right at it, he still couldn’t believe it. “I think so.”
Clustered deep inside the eye socket were crystals. Green crystals.
“Emeralds,” Kitty breathed.
She was right. He’d seen emeralds in jewelry and these were the exact same color, but in their raw state. There must have been tens of thousands of dollars worth, and that was just what he could see. If they extended inside the skull itself, that amount could be hundreds of thousands.
No wonder Webster and Hall had been so intent on keeping the skull hidden.
She pushed at the crystalline growths with one finger. “I think they’re joined to the bone. Somehow they’ve become attached. I wonder how far down they go.”
Ben looked at Webster. “Why didn’t you just take them out? Why leave them in there? They would have been much easier to hide on their own.”
“My question exactly,” Hall grumbled, shooting Webster a glare.
“They’re fused with the skull,” Webster said. “It probably happened during the fossilization process. To get them out while leaving the skull intact I would have needed the right tools and a lot of time undisturbed, neither of which I had in the camp.”
“You could have just broken the skull open,” Ben pointed out.
“That’s what I told him,” Hall said, throwing Webster another glare.
“Broken the skull open?” Webster looked horrified. “This is the most complete Trachodon found anywhere in the world, and you want me to destroy the skull? Are you out of your mind?”
“So you truly do care about the bones?” Kitty said.
“Of course I care! I have dedicated my life to the wealth of knowledge to be gained from these discoveries.” His indignation faded. “But funding these digs is not easy. Fink agreed to put up half of the money in exchange for the finds he wanted, but I was still left having to provide the other half, and I am only a moderately wealthy man. At least, I was. Now I’m broke and my debtors are many.” His eyes went to the skull. “Those emeralds were the answer to all my problems.”
“And what about you?” Ben said to Hall.
Hall scowled at him and said nothing.
Fortunately, Webster seemed to want to purge his conscience. “It was late at night when I discovered the emeralds, so no one else was in the finds tent with me. I was eager to clean up the skull and I didn’t want to wait until the following day, so I was alone when I found the emerald crystals. I knew right away I needed to hide the skull until I could extract them, but Edwin walked in while I was covering them over.” He glanced at Hall. “He threatened to tell Fink unless I agreed to give him a quarter of what I got for the emeralds. It was his idea to drug Cyrus the next night so I could get the skull out. But then Mr. Miles wired Fink about the missing skull, and he hired you.”
“Why don’t you just tell them your entire life’s story?” Hall muttered. He looked at Ben and Kitty. “You know, those emeralds are going to be worth a lot of money. There’s plenty to go around, if you’d just forget finding us.”
“Pinkerton agents don’t accept bribes,” Ben replied, “so don’t waste your breath.”
It wasn’t the first time since he’d become a Pinkerton agent that Ben had been offered a bribe. He always enjoyed the look of disappointment on their faces when they failed, but this time even better was the pride shining in Kitty’s eyes as she smiled at him.
No amount of money in the world could ever match that.
Chapter Sixteen
It was adorable how Ben attempted to disguise how heavy the skull was as he lifted it back into the crate and then into the wagon. Adorable and a little bit funny, although Kitty was careful not to smile. If he wanted to impress her, she certainly wasn’t going to discourage him.
They got Mr. Webster and Mr. Hall into the back of the buckboard, hands and feet securely bound and tied back to back. Mr. Webster seemed to have given up, but Mr. Hall grumbled the entire time. Although he didn’t try anything, not with Kitty’s gun aimed at him.
Afterwards, she and Ben stood looking at the two vehicles with their horses.
“Can you drive a wagon?” Ben asked her.
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”
He smiled. “Good answer. Looks like you are about to get your first lesson in driving a wagon.”
At first she was a little nervous in the driver’s seat, all too aware that the wagon was very big and very heavy, and if she lost control of the two very big and very heavy horses pulling it, she could be in very big and very serious trouble. But Ben was a good teacher, and after a while spent showing her how to hold the reins, turn, start, stop, slow down, and speed up, which was hopefully all she’d need to know, she was fairly confident that she could get the rest of the way to Evanston without killing anyone.
And so they set off, Ben leading in the buckboard with their two prisoners and Kitty following in the wagon with the skull, and made it to the town in one piece, to her relief. Although, concentrating as hard as she was, she had a headache by the time they arrived.
They took Mr. Webster and Mr. Hall to the local sheriff and explained to him everything that had happened, then they found a livery nearby to leave the buckboard and spare horse until someone could return the next day to fetch them. Incident-free as her first experience with driving a wagon had been, Kitty didn’t want to drive all the way back to the camp.
By that time it was nearing midday, so they found a restaurant for lunch and began the journey back in the wagon in the afternoon.
After half an hour of traveling in near silence, Ben took Kitty’s hand and turned it over to reveal the developing bruise on the inside of her forearm that she’d sustained during her brief struggle to take the gun from Mr. Webster.
It wasn’t a very large bruise and it didn’t hurt at all, but he nevertheless frowned as if it was a huge, gaping wound. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
She touched her fingertips to his cheek where his own bruise was forming. She suspected it wasn’t the only one. “I don’t like seeing you hurt either.”
The hint of a smile appeared. “You were outstanding today. I only taught you a few things and yet you disarmed Webster like you’d been doing it your entire life.”
Much as she adored his praise, she couldn’t pretend she’d done more than she had. “To be honest, he didn’t put up much of a fight. He seemed scared more than anything.”
He shook his head. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You did exactly the right thing after barely any training. Not many people could have done that. The agency is lucky to have you.”
Feeling brave, she slipped her arm around his. And since he didn’t object, she left it there for the rest of the trip.
They were met by Abel Miles when they reached the camp.
His eyes fixed on the crate behind them. “I’m guessing something has happened that I should know about.”
Ben jumped down from his seat and walked around to help Kitty to the ground. “You guess right.”
They told Mr. Miles the whole story of how Mr. Webster had discovered the gemstones fused to the skull, and how Mr. Hall had found out and suggested they steal it. How they’d hidden the skull in the abandoned mine but moved it back to Mr. Webster’s tent after Kitty and Ben arrived, planning to send it to Mr. Hall’s residence in Philadelphia where Mr. Webster would have the time to remove the crystals and then return the skull anonymously so it could be reunited with the rest of the skeleton.
At the mention of emeralds, Mr. Miles appeared skeptical, until Ben opened the crate to show him. At which point his mouth fell open and he took a good half minute to regain his voice.
“I can honestly say that, in all my fifty-two years, I have never seen anything like it,” he finally managed. “I think it’s safe to say that Mr. Fink is going to be very pleased with what you’ve done here.”
“Who will this belong to now?” Kitty asked, indicating the skull.
“I really don’t know, but he has lawyers to deal with all that. I prefer to just do my job and keep things simple.” He glanced around. “And to that end, I’d be grateful if you didn’t say anything about the emeralds to anyone in the camp. I’d rather not have to deal with anyone else trying to make off with this thing.”
“I don’t blame you,” Ben said with a smile.
“When will you be leaving?” Mr. Miles asked as he rewrapped the skull and placed the lid back onto the crate.
He looked up at the darkening sky. “We’ll go tomorrow morning, if you can spare someone to drive us to Evanston. They’ll need to pick up the buckboard and horse too.”
“Not a problem. After what you’ve done, I can spare the entire camp.”
At the mention of leaving, Kitty’s heart sank. In two days they’d be back in Denver and she’d no longer be Mrs. Kitty Riley.
She didn’t want her old name back. She didn’t want anything about her old life back.
She looked up at Ben standing beside her. He’d taught her to be strong and assertive, to stand up for herself and fight. He’d taught her what it was like to feel safe and cared for and happy.
After a lifetime of not belonging, he’d given her his name and made her feel like it was really hers. And in return, she’d given him her heart.
Even though he’d never know it.
Chapter Seventeen
&n
bsp; The next morning, Kitty opened her eyes to see Ben shrugging on his shirt.
An uncharacteristic melancholia seemed to hold him in its grip, evident in the tension of his shoulders and his downcast gaze. But then he noticed her watching and donned a comically overwrought expression, and she wondered if she’d just imagined his previous gloom.
“I am so sorry!” he exclaimed, pressing a palm to his chest in mock distress. “I almost forgot.” Turning to face her, he held his shirt open wide. “Let me know when you’re done.”
Her first instinct was to blush and hide her face, but instead she made a show of drifting her eyes over his bare torso before waving her hand magnanimously. “All right, you may button up now.”
He burst into laughter. “I do believe you are well and truly out of your shell.”
He was right, and no one could have been more shocked than she was. Until meeting Ben, doing something so brazen would have felt unthinkable. “I guess I couldn’t be a snail all my life.”
Buttoning his shirt, he walked over to crouch in front of her. His fingertips brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Kitten, you are very far from being a snail.”
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, hesitated for a moment, and moved his lips to her mouth instead.
The kiss was brief, light, and over in only a few seconds, but it set her heart racing and her head spinning and she could have sworn she heard a chorus of angels somewhere.
He drew back, smiled a little, and pressed his lips to her forehead before rising and walking from the tent.
She gasped in what felt like her first breath for hours.
He’d kissed her.
Ben had kissed her.
On the lips.
And the sad thing was, it had likely been a kiss goodbye.
~ ~ ~
It seemed that the entire camp came to bid Kitty and Ben farewell, although she suspected, by the way the men spoke to her and barely acknowledged him, that she was really the one they were there for. Maybe there was a small amount of truth in what Ben had said about them thinking her pretty, but she couldn’t help wishing he felt the same way.
