“It's not your fault,” she consoled.
“He got sicker and sicker. Nothing I did helped him. We tried to break the venom down a hundred different ways, but we couldn’t reverse the effects.” The powerless feeling that plagued him for weeks came back in a rush. “I had to find the fang. It was too dangerous to let it stay among the public. You can find out almost anything for enough money and I tracked the fang down, but when I got too close, I had a visitor in the night. I was exposed to the venom too.”
He couldn't tell her that he'd shot his attacker, that killing the man made him feel about as loathsome as Christensen.
Her fingers traced the line of the snake image, stopping not on his right collarbone, but in the hollow of his throat.
“This moves, doesn't it? As the venom gets closer and closer to your heart it—it tells you how much time you have left.” Romy put her palm over the snakehead. The heat from her hand reminded him that he wasn't the only person who stood to lose a loved one.
“I wrestled the fang away from him. After the fact, I took a sledgehammer to it, trying to break the thing so it couldn’t hurt anyone else. I damaged it, but it wasn't destroyed. Whatever it's made from, it's strong.” The worst was yet to come. “The only thing I could think of was to contact Maggard Farrington.”
She gasped and her fingers fell still. “Not Papa.”
“He sent a long letter explaining the story of the Horned Serpent. About the lair and how a crazy old Indian brought the fangs to town. Your father has the twin. Maggard’s the greatest explorer in the world and Christensen has enough money to back God on an expedition if the outcome is in his favor.”
Her breath became shallow and fear turned her eyes to ice. “Papa said he had to go. That he didn't have a choice. But where did the fangs come from?”
“Christensen had given it to him. Maggard said he didn't know why or how it came into Christensen's possession, but he'd been hired to find the Diamond. The night of the party, I found a card in Christensen's library where he'd bought them at an auction. God knows how many people they've killed by accident. Romy, if Maggard didn't know they were venomous, if he wasn't careful, he could have exposed himself to the venom.”
Her skin went a faint greenish color and her fingers trembled in his. “He said he wasn't going to be around forever. That he had to provide for my future and . . . he's dying, isn't he? And you. Your uncle. Oh, Abel.”
He slipped his arms around her, pulling her slender form against him and stroked her hair. “I know, darlin’. I promised Patience I'd find the cure for this. And I'm promising you. If I have to fly another thousand miles to find the Diamond, if I have to dive a thousand leagues beneath the sea, I'll find it. I'm not going to let good men die for no reason. It's only because of Caden and your father that I've been able to acquire the information and the map I have.”
She drew back, scanning his face. “You can't leave now. You're still sick.”
“I have to. Remember Elliot? Christensen knows I'm after the Diamond. He hired someone to ruin Caden's lab to retrieve the fang and the information. He hired Elliot to sabotage Van Buren's ship and slow me down.”
Romy was silent for a stretch. She rubbed her forehead and stared at the wall. Abel could almost see her mind working and something harder than sadness churned in her eyes.
“You lied to me, Abel. You let me believe this was about money and personal glory.”
“It was safer for you that way.” He hoped she'd understand his reasons. “It was for your own good.”
“My own good.” Her jaw clenched. “We'll have that conversation another time. My father's life may be at stake. I won't sit here and pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening.” She shook her head, face stricken. “How are we going to get to the lair?”
“You have to wait here. Your daddy's going to need you right now. It's better if you stay with him because if I fail . . . .” He trailed off, imagining the kind of pain it would cause her to be away from Maggard when he died. He was going to miss Caden something fierce. At least until he met his own end. “Christensen is in Bismarck. I saw your father on the docks. He told me to tell you that he loves you. Maybe the two of you can sneak off and wait for me to find the Diamond.”
“You aren't going alone! You'll never make it without me. There are no more lies between us. We have to work together. You need me, Abel Courte.”
Sometimes the truth was the worst thing a person could hear. She wanted the truth; the least he could do was give it to her. “Are you sure? Your father didn't look good, Romy, but I'll wager anything Christensen thinks he's on the right track. For all we know, Maggard might be reaching for the cure right now.”
Romy looked away, swallowed and looked back. She had starch in her spine; he'd give her that. “Either way, I'm going to help you and your uncle. Because Christensen is through hurting people I love. Now tell me about those vials in your pack.”
He wasn’t surprised she’d discovered the box. “I hope to give the Serpent a taste of its own medicine. It’s concentrated venom, a hundred times more powerful than the diluted forms Caden and I were poisoned with. Instant death.”
“And you’re carrying it around in a box filled with sawdust?” Romy’s eyes were round and full of fear. “The slightest bump could puncture one or all of them.”
Abel shook his head. “That’s unlikely. The casing is as safe as any bullet and only one end is made to be punctured so that the poison comes out through the needle. Did I mention Patience comes from a long line of gunsmiths?”
She looked a little dazed. “Your plan is to shoot the Serpent with a bullet containing its own venom. All right. We’ll track it down, shoot it, take the Diamond and cure everyone.”
“Like partners?”
“As long as I get some of the credit for finding the Diamond.”
“Darlin’, work that out with your daddy. As far as I’m concerned the two of you can have all the credit. I want to go home to Texas and pretend I never heard of the damned thing.”
Some of the worry he’d carried with him since leaving San Antonio faded. It was a relief to share his burden. For the first time, he understood why Caden had been so happy to marry Patience. Two minds and two hearts stood a better chance of leveling the odds in difficult situations.
Chapter Sixteen
For the life of her, Romy could never remember a time when all she wanted to do was weep. Not even when her mother died suddenly, had she felt so helpless. Weaklings cried. Adventurers’ daughters did not, but as she watched Abel supervise the crew, she felt the need to give in.
He looked strong, barking orders at Van Buren's men while they hauled his crates of dynamite off of the ship and loaded them in a short cart. Shadows beneath his eyes gave away his exhaustion. If Abel looked so poor, how did his uncle look? If they found Uktena's lair, would they be too late to save Caden? She wanted to meet the man who'd molded Abel into the person he was.
At least he'd agreed to let her come. She couldn't have gone to Boston, waiting and wondering if he'd ever come back.
I love him.
The thought echoed through her mind, vibrated against her soul. His gentle lovemaking was an extra; only part of the reason she cared for him. In spite of his lies, he'd tried to protect her. No cursed fangs or rich gentry were going to stop them from finding the Serpent's Diamond. Even after the lies, she couldn't find it in her heart to be angry with him.
“Romy.” He motioned her over.
She came at his bidding, ready to assist in the slightest detail. The ship seemed confining and she yearned to be off, reading maps or walking hundreds of miles if that was what it took to find the Diamond.
“Keep your gun ready. You may need it.” Abel's face was grim. “Van Buren will be waiting when we get back. We'll have to extract some of the elixir from the Diamond so you can give it to your father immediately. I've got to board the airship and get it to Caden the second we're back in town.”
Her heart plumm
eted. “You'll leave once we’ve returned to Bismarck.”
“For my uncle.” His whiskey-colored eyes looked toward Texas, where his family waited.
Romy struggled to contain her emotions. It was selfish of her to expect him not to think of them. “Of course.”
It was easy to forget he didn't belong by her side. She'd grown accustomed to his quick mind and infuriating remarks, to the soft waves of his hair beneath her fingers, his firm arms holding her close. To touching him whenever she pleased.
What had she expected? That once this adventure was over, they’d settle down together? It would never work because she couldn't leave Papa. And to top it all off, they were always at odds with one another and throwing sparks. One of them would get burned. It would most likely be her.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing. I'm anxious to have this done.”
“Me too. We can't take the Ursula Ann. She's too big, and according to the map there's no place to land her. Animals are too slow. We can travel down the river. A boat will get us there much quicker.”
“A boat? We'll have to row? I should think at a steady trot horses would be faster.”
Abel shook his head. “We've got to go down the Missouri.” He looked like whatever he wanted to say was something he disagreed with entirely. “There are stories about rivers that lead men to gateways. Other worlds. And Uktena is fond of water, so we're going by river. The boat is powered by a combination of steam and machine cogs. All we have to do is take turns steering so we don't run aground.”
The boat, as Abel called it, was twenty-five feet long. Green paint peeled from the exterior. The weathered deck sagged when Romy set foot on it. She frowned at Abel, but he showed no concern. A great boiler weighted down the aft. He explained the main propeller used the boiler as a power source. It belched thick white smoke from a stack. The heat was tremendous. Beside the boiler was a crankshaft which powered the two smaller propellers for extra speed.
To her dismay, Abel looked pleased with the little craft. Romy leaned close to him and shouted above the noise. “You're sure we can't take horses?”
“This little gem will surprise you. Wait and see.”
He threw the line to the dock. The boiler roared again as it consumed the coal in its belly.
“Abel, really. Boats aren't the best idea for a speedy escape.” She tried to ignore the memories of frantic paddling along the Amazon.
“Crank the rod and don't worry about a thing.” He slipped the loop off the wheel spoke, enabling it to turn. “I'll guide us for now and then give you a turn at it. You'll feel more comfortable steering during the day.”
Her chin went up. “I can steer at night.”
A grin was her reward. “I know you can, but let me do it tonight. We'll see how tomorrow goes, all right?”
“Stubborn Yank.” Her jibe was lost in the sound of the propellers churning water.
****
The banks of the river looked the same on both sides; green and full of life, but a sense of dread crowded her mind. She understood Abel’s determination now, but wondered how he’d found the courage to laugh and tease her this last week.
He appeared to be on alert with his back to her. There was a slump to his shoulders that she didn't like, though she didn't dare suggest he take a break. It was a pity Uktena's lair had to remain a secret or they could've hired a river guide. Then he could rest and she wouldn't have to worry about her lack of navigating skills.
The boat moved faster than she expected. It made for a nice breeze and the canopy in the middle with its swinging hammock was a decent place to rest. Much better than the rough bed aboard the airship. Poor Abel would be forced to sleep there all the way back to Texas. Alone. Without companionship and decent food. He was liable to be skin and bones by the time he reached San Antonio.
From her place under the canopy, she watched his backside. The subtle movements of his hands on the wheel, the way the wind lifted his blond hair. Closing her eyes, she felt the sway of the hammock and the gentle bouncing of the boat against the current. It was easy to imagine Abel coming back to her after he'd been to see his uncle. She'd meet him in Boston, throw her arms around him and squeeze him until her hands went numb. Follow that up with a passionate kiss straight out of a romance novel. She couldn't help smiling.
“Hey!”
Her eyes popped open and she nearly tumbled from the hammock as she sat up. Abel turned to look at her.
“See there, on shore?”
He nodded to the starboard side where a mob of wild ponies galloped along the water. Their pelts were all colors, gleaming in the sunlight. Long ears and manes whipped in the wind. It looked like they were racing the boat. A beautiful sight, but nothing like the picture Abel made. He flashed a grin and warmth curled through her veins.
If only she could convince him to come back to her.
****
A bed fit for a queen. Romy slept in the hammock, her braid hanging over the edge like the story of Rapunzel. All she needed was a handsome prince to carry her away. But then, Abel guessed the prince was waiting back in Boston. She'd never be happy there. They both knew it.
The goal was to get up river. Find the lair. Get the Diamond and get back to Bismarck. Whatever happened to her after that wouldn't be his concern.
He felt split down the middle. Part of him needed to find the Diamond. The other part wanted to shut out the rest of the world and focus solely on Romy. The wretched tiredness wore at him like the Missouri River against the ancient banks. The venom corroded his body, twisting through the way the Horned Serpent slipped through waterways in the legends.
He worried that Farrington and Christensen might have found a faster way to get to the lair. Farrington could be there right now, figuring out how to get the Diamond to work and saving himself. All the better for Romy, but Abel couldn't show up in San Antonio empty-handed. Whatever the shaman in Bismarck said, Abel knew he had time. He might be dying, but he wasn't as bad off as Caden.
No one was going to steal away his chance to save the uncle who’d loved him like a father. Locking the wheel, he headed to the aft and shoveled more coal into the boiler. The effort left him sweating then shivering as the river breeze penetrated his clothes.
Damn Christensen for his greedy, selfish desires. None of this would have happened if not for that bastard.
You'd never have met Romy.
I can't have her, he argued.
An attitude like that could never do anything.
“Shut up,” he told the voice. It sounded suspiciously like his uncle.
Cranking the shaft again, the boat picked up some of the speed it had lost over the last couple of hours as the gears wound down. He turned to face Romy again. The two things he wanted most in the world—to find happiness with her and to save his uncle. He’d have to fight harder than he ever had in his life. Without a doubt, the fight was worth it.
****
The boat rolled against the current, sun bright and river swift. Romy wasn't sure, but she thought they'd traveled a fair distance during the night. In the shade of the canopy, she traced the riverbanks on the topographical map with her finger.
“Are you sure we're on the right track? This is impossible.” She squinted at the map.
“You're holding it upside down. We're here.” Abel tapped a spot. “You see? We're a good ways down river. No need to worry.”
She stared doubtfully at the slopping hills, then the map. “I thought the Serpent is supposed to live under water?”
“Have a little faith.”
She frowned at his back. “It seems too easy. If I were a giant serpent, I shouldn't want my hiding place to be so easy to find.”
Abel faced her again, eyes light with amusement. “You didn't think it was so easy when the map was turned the other way.”
“You're the clever one, aren't you?”
A lazy grin spread across his face. “It appears so. I'm going to sleep a while. Have you g
ot this? Should be a straight shot through here. We only have a few more bends to get through. If you run into any problems wake me.”
“Do you feel all right?” She stared up at him, searching his face for signs of illness.
A tan hand ran through the golden hair. “I'm not dead yet. Just tired from staying up all night. Remember to wake me if you run into trouble.”
“Trouble,” she muttered. “Aside from a dodgy map and a derelict boat, what trouble could there be?”
The sun made brilliant sparkling diamonds across the water. The Missouri River was named for the Indians who travelled the waterway using canoes. She hoped they didn't run into any of them.
As she took in the scenery, she longed to get her fingers on a sketchpad and some watercolors. Beautiful and strange things haunted the green shores of the Missouri. Huge, smooth rocks lined the river.
“Stone, stone,” she muttered, trying to dredge up a memory of something she'd read not so long ago. A poem, perhaps. Like the flare of light inside a lamp, it came to her.
“Abel, wake up!” Romy shook his shoulder, shivering with excitement. Abel blinked her owlishly.
“What?”
“A river with an old name! This is it,” she said.
He stared at her like she'd gone out of her mind. “It's pretty old, darlin', but I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
She shook her head and recited the poem that she hadn't thought about since he let her read the legends.
“On a river with an old name,
A stone's throw if you've fine aim,
Where silence falls,
'Tween broken walls,
There's a canyon where you'll find things.
Within golden eye,
The truth doth lie,
Be careful what your heart brings.”
“You think it's some kind of riddle?” he asked, sitting up in the hammock.
She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes! The river is the Missouri, where tribes have lived for hundreds of years. The lair can't be far. Plenty of reptiles hide among rocks. It must be the canyon the poem speaks of.”
The Treasure Hunter's Lady Page 15
