The Librarian's Treasure

by Katherine H Brown

  Lord Donovan’s lips tightened as he sneered. Clenched fists raised, he advanced, and Raegan found herself stumbling backward. She bumped into the wire basket of fireplace tools. On instinct, she snatched one up.

  “What do you plan to do with that tiny shovel?” Lord Donovan laughed.

  “Whatever I have to,” Raegan whispered. Another set of footsteps echoed through the stone castle. Raegan’s heart sped up. Conor, she wondered?

  The man who came through the door was neither Conor nor Drake, nor any other soul that she recognized.

  “Is it done?”

  Raegan gulped as the brawny man nodded to Lord Donovan. “He won’t be getting out of that anytime soon.”

  “Make sure no one else is here,” Lord Donovan told the man.

  Relief flooded Raegan as she watched the second man leaving the room. Getting away from Lord Donovan would have been hard enough, but she doubted she had a chance if the odds were two against one. Now, she just needed a plan.

  Of all the days to choose not to wear her hair clip.

  “Now, where we?” the slimy man asked, beady eyes narrowing.

  “You were about to leave my property and never come back.”

  Lord Donovan lifted a finger to his chin as if to consider. “No,” he said. “No, that wasn’t it. Ah! I remember. I was about to tragically discover that you’d fallen and hit your head on the fireplace, bleeding out with no one to help you.”

  He smiled, a sick, twisted smile, looking so pleased with himself. The thought flashed through Raegan’s mind that if she escaped, she would have nightmares of that look for a long time.

  23.

  D rake awoke to a crackling sound. He glanced around blearily and caught sight of a fire glowing in the fireplace. He blinked again, realizing no kindling or wood burned, only the fire itself with an odd green tint at the edges.

  “Rise and shine, sonny.”

  Drake groaned. He knew that flippant voice. Sure enough, he looked over and saw Aiden just behind him. “What are you doing here? And where are the other musketeers?”

  Aiden didn’t even smirk. His face was serious. Even his hair had gone still, Drake noticed with unease, coming swiftly to his feet.

  “The other’s respect the old ways. They do not get involved.” Aiden moved to look out the window.

  “Involved in what?”

  “The lass is in danger,” Aiden spoke. “You must go. Now.”

  Drake didn’t bother with questions or farewells. He rushed from the cabin, headlong into the rain which fell in thick curtains.

  Raegan.

  He had to get to Raegan.

  24.

  R aegan swung the fireplace shovel as hard as she could.

  It glanced off Lord Donovan’s arm as it raised to block it.

  She lifted it again, but Donovan jerked it from her hand mid-swing and flung the shovel into a corner.

  Retreating, Raegan felt a slight shift in the floor as her foot came down on the stone where the fireplace tools had stood not long before. A grating sound echoed through the room, causing both her and Donovan to look over. Before her eyes, the fireplace swung forward to reveal a dark entrance behind it.

  Raegan rushed for it. Pain screamed through her head as Donovan grabbed her ponytail and jerked her backward. She stumbled and fell. Footsteps banged their way into her throbbing head. Bracing for the worst, she turned and nearly sobbed.

  Drake!

  Drake was there.

  25.

  D rake watched Donovan jerk Raegan’s hair, the snap of her head, her crash to the floor. A primal growl ripped from his throat.

  “I’m okay,” she shouted. “But Donovan is getting away.”

  With a curt nod, Drake called on all his willpower to dash past her and after the scum that had just disappeared into what looked like a secret passageway. Blood pumping, adrenaline racing, he took the short flight of stairs two at a time.

  The stairs opened into the mouth of a small, low-ceiling room, and Drake very nearly had to duck.

  “Donovan, it’s over. I found Conor. He’s calling the Garda. Come out with your hands up.” His training pulsed through him, forsaken but not forgotten. He listened in the stillness and heard heavy breathing just in time. Dodging, he spun around and caught Donovan’s wrist, shaking loose the wine bottle that had been about to crash into his head. One quick twist and he had the man’s arm pinned behind his back. He shoved him against the wall, perhaps with a little more force than necessary, and growled a whisper of warning into the man’s ear that he wouldn’t have been free to say if he were still in uniform. Donovan stilled at the threat, and Drake allowed himself a satisfied grin.

  “Raegan,” he hollered up the stairs. “Find me something to tie him with.”

  “This should do it.” Conor limped down the stairs with Raegan’s help, his voice a bit scratchier than normal. He spit on Lord Donovan’s shoe and let out a string of Irish so eloquently vile that Drake found himself concealing a laugh. Conor ended with a quick, “Pardon me, lass,” to Raegan before handing over the rope and hobbling back up the stairs by himself. “I’ll keep an eye out for the Garda,” he called over his shoulder.

  “What about the second man?” Raegan asked Drake after Donovan was bound, hands and ankles together, and stuffed against the wall to wait. For good measure, she’d sacrificed her socks to make a gag to silence the sputtering rage spewing from the terrible man’s mouth.

  “He is locked in Conor’s gatehouse. He tried to escape, but Conor shoved a wheelbarrow in front of him. Tripped and hit his head, so we wheeled him into the house and blocked the door from the outside.” Drake spoke quietly, all the while drawing closer to Raegan. She hadn’t said much, but he’d seen her trembling before he chased after Lord Donovan. He took her hand and looked into her eyes, brushing a red curl behind her ear.

  If he’d been one moment later…

  Drake closed his eyes and pulled her into a fierce kiss, trying to banish the thought, the fear.

  26.

  R aegan walked barefoot on the earthen floor, hands trailing across dusty shelves, most empty, a few boasting bottles of wine, bags of potatoes, or kegs.

  She asked one of several questions on her mind and turned as Drake explained how he and Conor had restrained Lord Donovan’s thug. He walked slowly to her, eyes never leaving her own as he talked. She found it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. All she could think was how happy she was that he was there, how relived that he had come to her rescue, how she wanted to keep him all to herself.

  So immersed in her own thoughts was she that Raegan didn’t even realize Drake was pulling her closer until suddenly his lips met hers. She was lost. Relief, passion, fear, joy, they all mingled together until she was dizzy.

  A throat clearing severed the moment, and Raegan pulled away. She looked up the stairs and saw Conor grinning ear to ear.

  “The Garda are here,” he informed them.

  Sure enough, two officers soon appeared at the top of the stairs and made their way down. Drake and Raegan gave brief statements, agreeing to make the journey to the station the next day to go over all of the details and sign them.

  Shauna, having noted all of the activity from her cottage, appeared as the men were hauling Lord Donovan and his man away. With eagle eyes, she took note of Conor’s limp and swooped in to fuss over him, even as she chastised him for being up and about.

  “You are not doing one more thing today,” Shauna scolded. “You are going inside to rest and eat something besides a potato. I’ll make sure of it myself.”

  As Shauna led him away, Conor peeked over his shoulder at Raegan and Drake and gave a wink. It was all Raegan could do to smother a laugh.

  Alone with Drake again, Raegan grew nervous. To cover it, she asked about the pub and his trip.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” Drake shrugged. “I’d rather talk about you. You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know.”

  “Excuse me!” Raegan said, stri
king an offended pose. “It isn’t like I invited that vile man here to attack me. I can’t help it if you leave right before all of the visitors begin to drop in around here.”

  “Visitors?” Drake ran a hand through his dark, messy hair. “I’m afraid to even ask who else could have possibly come by.”

  “I’ll give you one guess,” Raegan smiled. “No, make that four little guesses.”

  “The League of Leprechauns showed up? When?”

  Raegan explained about the appearance of the men and then showed Drake the paper with the ballad and the riddle. “I’ve been searching and searching,” she admitted. “But I haven’t found a thing. I don’t even know what I’m searching for. Seriously, do I think a pot of gold is just going to be waiting somewhere?” She rubbed her neck, shrugging. “It was silly.”

  “It isn’t silly.” Drake held her hand and led her back into the castle. “You should have waited for help, though. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave you alone in this place again.”

  “I don’t think I want you to,” Raegan admitted with a small smile. She blushed as Drake gave her a firm peck on the cheek.

  “What have you got to eat in this place?” Drake asked. “Being the dashing hero is hard work on a man’s appetite, you know.”

  After a snack of corned beef sandwiches, Drake cleared the table, and Raegan washed the dishes. “Do you have any other ideas about the riddle?” he asked her.

  Raegan, drying her hands on a towel, leaned against the cabinet. She tilted her head and considered the words again, repeating them in her head.

  A treasure of the heart is a treasure in the hands, blessed by the leprechaun king only to be found by one who wields the magic for the lands.

  “I guess it would help if I knew something more about my mom’s past, something she treasured…” Raegan sprang forward. “Wait, there is one more place that I didn’t think to look. It’s a long shot, but heck, so were all the others.”

  “Lead the way,” Drake said.

  ***

  Raegan lay one of the shovels they’d found in the tool shed aside and sagged against the stone wall, staring out at the sunset reflecting on the dark sea.

  Her heart skipped a beat as Drake’s shovel clanged against something hard. They kneeled and moved aside more dirt by hand.

  “Ugh!” Raegan groaned. “Another rock.” She tossed it in the growing pile nearby. “I really thought I’d figured it out this time,” she sighed. “Conor showed me this place and said it was one of my mother’s special, secret places to come. If she kept it private, surely she treasured it. Oh well, I guess I should give up.”

  “You don’t seem the giving up sort,” Drake said. “But I think taking a break is okay.”

  Raegan nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Let’s get these rosebushes back in the ground before we do some real harm.”

  Together, they carefully unwrapped the roots and replanted the bushes against the outer wall. Drake moved to collect the shovels. Raegan was smoothing the last of the dirt in place when he tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Hmm?” she asked without looking up.

  “I think you should see this.”

  Raegan wiped her dirty hands on her jeans and rose, her head turning to follow Drake’s pointing finger. She gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Is that what I think it is?”

  Just above the shoreline, two pieces of the cliff stuck out, creating a heart-shaped overhang only visible as the sun’s last rays shined perfectly through its center.

  Drake held out a shovel. “What do you say? One more treasure hunt?”

  Raegan grinned, scrambling over the dirt and rocks like a kid. “I’ll race you,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Blasted woman,” Drake growled. “You’re going to hurt your ankle again. Slow down!”

  “That sounds like someone who is losing trying to stop the winner,” Raegan teased.

  Slipping and sliding, they made it to the beach without injury. Raegan slowed to catch her breath. Her gaze lit on two tiny carvings as she came abreast of the rocks.

  Initials.

  She traced over them, tears springing to her eyes.

  “This is it,” she whispered.

  Drake placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is?”

  “These are my parents initials.” She pointed. “This is it. The treasure of the heart. Each other. This place. This land.”

  “After you.” Drake inclined his head to the soft earth beneath their feet, damp but shielded from the waves by all of the rocks.

  Raegan barely heard him. She laid her shovel down, moving along the rocks, past the initials. There, beneath the moss, she caught site of another carving. A shamrock.

  “Look!” She squealed.

  Drake stooped. “Is that another one?”

  Sure enough, a trail of mostly hidden, lightly-carved shamrocks led to a large boulder. Drake tried to move it; the rock didn’t budge.

  Raegan nudged him aside. “I think I need to get behind it.” She pointed to a small crevice, too small for Drake, but if she turned just right, Raegan could fit.

  “I don’t know,” Drake frowned.

  Raegan was already squeezing through the opening, heedless of anything but the possibility of finding her father’s treasure.

  Drake’s voice grew muffled. The sounds of the waves softened. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she realized she was in a cave of sorts. It was so short that she had to crawl. The floor was damp stone and rough on her hands and knees. Nessa, the rotten kitten, rubbed against her shin and made her jump. She prayed under her breath not to find any snakes or other creepy, crawly creatures taking refuge in the place.

  As she felt along the floor and walls for anything loose, a dim glow began in the corner, only five or six feet back. Rather than frightened, Raegan grew excited. That glow looked suspiciously similar to the green smoke that had come from the leprechaun’s pipe.

  Raegan crawled toward it, wincing at the gravel bits digging into her skin, eager to discover what her father had hidden away that the League felt so certain would help her save the village.

  27.

  R aegan? Raegan can you hear me?” Drake called again. He knelt in the wet sand, peering into the hole through which Raegan had disappeared.

  “I’m here,” Raegan answered, her face appearing before him at last.

  Drake scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why is it you’re determined to give me a heart attack?” he asked ruefully.

  Raegan grinned and then sobered. “I have a question for you.”

  “Okay?”

  “How much money is a pound of gold worth?”

  Drake thought. “Not sure, but I’d say around fifteen hundred euros would be close based on the last time I saw a currency table.”

  As he watched Raegan chew thoughtfully on her lower lip, he reached a hand into the cave and tilted her chin up. “Come on. It’s okay if the treasure isn’t much. You already helped the people of the village by getting rid of Donovan.”

  “Oh! It isn’t that,” Raegan laughed. She scooted aside and pointed to the back corner of the cave.

  Drake followed her finger, eyes widening in shock at the mound of gold blocks surrounded by a faint green glow.

  “I was trying to do the math on maybe one or two hundred pounds to euros.” Lying on her elbows, she clapped her hands together, her face radiant with glee. “I think the League was right. I’ll be able to save this village not just from Donovan, but from anyone who wants to uproot the people for financial gain ever again.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Plus, I’d say there will be enough left over for a very special project that I have in mind.”

  Drake tried to ferret the information out of her, but Raegan insisted on keeping her project a secret until she was certain she would be able to do it. The onery woman not only refused to tell him, but she extracted a promise that he would help her with whatever in the world she had planned.

  Drake smiled. Not that it had been a difficult p
romise to make, he thought, as he slipped his hand into hers. They hurried back to the castle to retrieve bags to carry the gold out with. Dark was fast approaching, and though the gold had been fine for decades, Raegan was like a little kid at Christmas. She couldn’t wait a second longer to put her plans for the village into action. They would leave at first light with the gold and head to a solicitor in the village that could assist them with the legal side of things.

  28.

  R aegan thrummed her fingers nervously in her lap, afraid that at any minute the solicitor would demand to know where the gold came from, accuse her of stealing, tell her that the Wyndham’s Land Purchase Acts didn’t apply there, or really any number of things, none of which happened.

  Two hours after she and Drake entered the small office rooms above the post office, they walked out with Raegan holding the deeds to every property within a two-hundred-mile radius of Dún Castle. She’d bought out Donovan’s leases as he sat in a holding cell, awaiting trial where bail was rumored to be set at an astronomical amount. Apparently, any money looked like good money, and he hadn’t put up a fight.

  Of course, the fact that Raegan insisted the solicitor keep her name as facilitator of the purchase anonymous had probably helped smooth the way.

  She practically floated down the sidewalk. Only one thing provided a dim spot in her bright plan. Spotting a pay phone, she asked Drake to give her a moment.

  “Evie?” she said with relief when her friend answered on the second ring. “It’s Raegan.”

  “God bless you, child! I’m so happy to hear from you. How has your trip been?”

  Raegan took a deep breath. That part wasn’t going to be easy. “It’s so beautiful here. The trip has been wonderful. The castle is like nothing I imagined. It has all been rather better than I ever expected, except for one or two small incidents.”

  “I knew it. I knew you would be getting into trouble over there.” Evie’s worry carried clearly through the line. “Are you okay? What’s happened?”