Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3)

by Mary Tate Engels

  Dodge lifted her off the ground, his arms wrapped securely around her. He repeatedly murmured, "Oh, God ... Oh, God! Tory . . . Tory!"

  Finally, they tore apart and included Ramona in a clumsy, three-way embrace. In their emotional release, the women were laughing and crying and nearly hysterical with happiness and relief. Then Dodge hugged Tory again and kissed her briefly on the lips.

  Ramona watched unembarrassed with a grateful smile on her face. Their love was obvious but beautiful, and her heart swelled with joy that something good had come from all the tragedy surrounding Sharkey's death.

  Tory refused to completely release Dodge and stood next to him with her arm curled around his ribcage. It was a good, secure feeling to know they were both safe in each other's arms. With Dodge close, she remembered to ask about the others. "Where is Yazzie? And Rex? Is anybody hurt? Tell us what happened."

  Dodge shook his big shaggy head. "Everybody's fine. Except for Yazzie."

  "Did you shoot him?" Ramona asked, a vicious gleam in her dark eyes. Her absolute hatred for Yazzie was obvious. "He deserves the worst."

  "He's injured slightly, Ramona. In the shoulder."

  "Where is he now?" Tory asked.

  "In jail."

  "Jail? Already?" She gave him a curious, unbelieving look. "How? Did the sheriffs patrol arrive already?"

  "Nope. We did it. The self-appointed sheriff of Pyramid and his self-appointed deputy." Dodge patted his chest mockingly. "The town jail still works, so we locked Yazzie inside one of the cells. Deputy Rex Richardson is the official jailer until we head back down the mountain."

  "In jail?" Tory repeated, laughing with hysterical relief. "How did you lock the door?"

  Dodge shrugged his broad shoulders. "The walls are solid and iron bars block the windows. We just wired the locks together. Of course, the deputy is there, keeping watch with a gun on his knee."

  "Rex?" Ramona smiled, in spite of herself. "I can't believe it."

  "He's in his element." Dodge grinned and shook his head. "You should see him perched on the jail steps with a six- shooter in his one good hand and the other arm in a sling."

  They all shared a good chuckle as Dodge finished the story. Then he gazed around the room for the first time. "What have you two found here? Looks like Indian ruins."

  "Yes," Ramona said, smiling proudly. "It's grand, isn't it?" She showed him around the room, briefly explaining a few of the rare items. "Of course, Yazzie knew the value of all this. That's why he wanted us out of the picture. So he could sell it off for profit. His exclusive profit."

  "He wanted more than the gold. He wanted it all," Dodge said bitterly.

  Ramona nodded. Her voice grew hoarse as she continued. "We also found out that Yazzie killed Sharkey."

  "I'll be damned," Dodge muttered through his teeth. "If I'd known that, I might have aimed lower than his shoulder. The bastard! All for this! Sharkey lost his life for this—and we lost Sharkey!" He tore from Tory's grasp and stalked around the room, venting his anger in loud expletives.

  That's when she noticed the blood on his jeans, just above his left knee. "Dodge! What's that?"

  He shrugged off her concern. "It's just a nick."

  "Yazzie shot you?" Her voice rose shrilly.

  "I told you, it's nothing. Just a graze."

  She folded her arms. "What happened?"

  "He shot at me. I shot back."

  Tory glared at him. "I thought he had your gun?"

  "I bought another before we left town. You can't travel in this country without some sort of weapon. There're snakes and mountain lions and . . . you never know what! Thank God I had it."

  She glared at him for a moment longer, then sighed. Where would they all be right now if Dodge hadn't been able to defend himself? If he hadn't been alert and able to use a gun? It was just like in the old West days when the six-shooter was the law of the land. She didn't like it, but she had to admit its value right now. "I guess so."

  "How did you find us here, Dodge?" Ramona asked.

  "Yazzie said something about you being locked in a cave. I just started searching for it. The most likely place seemed to be up around these rocks. Come on. It'll be dark soon and I think we'd better go see how the deputy is doing with his prisoner."

  "We have something else to show you, Dodge," Ramona said, leading the way to the hidden room. "Sharkey's gold."

  They crawled through the narrow passageway, and Dodge examined the discolored vein in the wall. "Well, I'll be damned. A treasure to cherish." He beamed at them, his dark eyes aglow. "Ole' Sharkey knew what he was talking about, after all."

  Around the campfire that night, they discussed everything fully with Rex. The four of them were partners, shareholders in a bizarre and dangerous search for gold. And now, for the first time since the journey began, the four looked at each other with complete trust.

  Rex surprised them by pulling out a bottle of chardonnay. "I'd say this occasion deserves a little celebration," he said, pouring the wine into plastic cups and distributing them.

  "Thanks, Rex." Ramona accepted her cup. "How thoughtful of you."

  "My pleasure," he said, handing the next one to Tory.

  She smiled. "Ever the gentleman, even in the wilderness and with your arm hurt."

  "Someone has to keep us from becoming complete barbarians," he answered, winking. He handed Dodge a cup. "Here you go, partner. No more doubts about who our real friends are."

  "You bet," Dodge agreed. Lifting his cup high, he said, "I'd like to propose a toast. To Sharkey's real friends, the remaining sun seekers who are gathered tonight around this campfire."

  "To the sun seekers," they all chorused, touching cups.

  "Now," Dodge sighed, settling down on a crude log bench, "what we have to decide is what to do about the gold."

  "It's what we came after," Rex said. "Why don't we take an extra day or so and load it up."

  "Well, it won't be quite that easy," Dodge told him. "In fact, it'll be real tough hauling it down from that cave."

  "I'm willing, if the rest of you are," Ramona said. "How do you feel, Rex? Do you think you could wait a few more days before getting medical care?"

  "It isn't so bad that I couldn't wait a little longer." He grinned devilishly. "Anyway, with the golden opportunity at hand, how could I refuse?"

  Tory sat beside Dodge. "What about Yazzie's injury? Can he wait?"

  "I think he'll be okay, especially if we douse his wound with plenty of antiseptic," Dodge said. "I don't think a day or two will hurt him."

  "Then let's try," Tory responded with a little smile.

  "Everybody in agreement?" Dodge asked.

  They nodded, their eager faces glowing in the firelight.

  "All right, sun seekers"—Dodge stood up— "we're going for it!"

  Everyone shook hands and clapped each other on the back and ended up hugging each other.

  "It'll be a long, hard day tomorrow. We'd better hit the sack," Dodge advised.

  Ramona touched his arm. "Rex and I will sleep here, close to the fire. You two go on over there by yourselves."

  Dodge smiled gratefully. "I think you'll be safe now, with Yazzie in jail." Wrapping an arm around Tory, they ambled over to the makeshift room they had cleared for themselves the first night they arrived. For the first time, they were alone. Sort of.

  As they snuggled down into the sleeping bag together, Dodge pulled Tory to him with a fierceness he couldn't hide. Kissing her long and hard, he finally lifted his face to murmur, "I can't believe I almost lost you today."

  "I had the same feelings, Dodge. It was so scary to be locked up there and hear gunshots. And not know what happened."

  "I was frantic to find you, Tory."

  "Dodge, did it matter that much to you?"

  He framed her face and kissed it all over. "You matter that much to me. More than any woman ever has. More than anything."

  "Oh, Dodge . . ." She succumbed to the delight of being in his arms.

/>   And he held her close to his lean, hard body and allowed their natural responses to take over, capturing them both. Desire slipped in, creating a beautiful magic between them, leading them to love. Love . . . implied and sensitive. Love . . . seeking and touching. Love . . . encircling and encompassing and . . . overwhelming.

  She lay very still beside him, not wanting to lose a moment with him. The message their touches communicated were loud and clear. I love you . . . love you completely. Tory had never been so filled with love . . .

  The sun seekers took an extra day to mine the small placer vein the women had found in the Indian ruins cave. No one could be sure about its value until it was assayed, but it was definitely gold. Sharkey's gold. And they decided to take as much as they could and still leave the Indian ruins intact.

  As Dodge had predicted, it was quite a difficult job hauling the diggings down from the cliff cave. But the four of them managed. When sunset colored the surrounding mountains deep purple that evening, they had loaded the saddlebags as full as possible.

  By the fireside that night, the four partners agreed it was time to leave.

  At the next dawn, the sun seekers gathered on the side of the triangular hill overlooking the lost city of Pyramid. Streaks of pink and pale orange heralded a glorious sunrise, another sun-filled day. In the distance loomed the ripple of mountains they must cross before returning to civilization. Their journey was not yet ended.

  But now they had to finish the unpleasant task that brought them there.

  The group was serious. Rex cradled his injured arm against his chest. Dodge held the brightly painted Indian pot. For the first time, he looked uncomfortable holding the container. Ramona was tight-lipped and somber, staring with sad dark eyes at the horizon. Tory stood back a little, the years of hating a father she never knew finally erased from her expression.

  Dodge stumbled over his words. "I, uh, I'm not sure how to do this. I've never conducted a funeral before."

  "Well, neither have we," Rex assured him. "Just say a little something."

  "Like a eulogy?" he asked dubiously.

  "Like a message," Ramona said softly. "To him."

  "Oh." Dodge looked around at the others, then took a step forward. "Well . . . hey, Sharkey, if you're listening, I want to thank you. For introducing me to this beautiful territory and for the privilege of knowing you. For the friends around us. For your little girl, Tory." His voice grew thick and raspy. "For giving us the chance to be sun seekers with you for a brief time. And for, uh, the touch of gold we have with us."

  Rex stepped forward. "You were right all along, Sharkey. Thanks to you, we're all going to make it. Thanks for the treasures."

  Tears coursed down Ramona's cheeks. "Thanks for everything, Sharkey . . . the laughter, the fun . . . and the love."

  Tory cleared her throat. "Thanks Sharkey. I wish I'd known you better." She unashamedly wiped away a tear, but her eyes filled with tears again and spilled over her cheeks when Dodge cracked the colorful Indian pot on a rock. The ashes spilled over the rocks and caught the wind and drifted over Pyramid.

  Tory knew that because of this trip, and because of Sharkey Carsen, her life would be forever changed. She certainly thought of her father differently now, and that was better than carrying hatred around for the rest of her life. She gazed at Dodge Callahan's broad shoulders and knew he would make the biggest difference of all. Without him, what would her life be? How empty.

  And suddenly, she knew she couldn't bear leaving Dodge. She wanted to be with him, to follow him, to love him the rest of her life.

  She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. "You gave him a very nice tribute, Dodge."

  He squeezed her hand back and brought it up to his lips for a lingering kiss. "You, too." Hand in hand, they followed Ramona and Rex down the mountain. Tory was filled with complete contentment. She would be forever grateful to Sharkey for sending her to Dodge so they could meet. And love.

  The two men arranged the injured Yazzie on one of the mules. His shoulder and one arm were wrapped rather crudely, and one foot was tied to the stirrup. If he should attempt escape, he would be dangling by one foot.

  "I know this sounds strange coming from me, but I'm almost sorry to leave," Tory said as they lined up the mules for the long trek back.

  Ramona's gaze swept across the ghost town. "Maybe we can return someday."

  "Not me," Rex said with a groan as he swung a leg over his mule.

  "Nope," Dodge muttered, "I don't think we'll ever ride this way again." He paused for one last look over the tiny valley, then motioned with one arm. "Let's head 'em out."

  They rode silently, Dodge in the lead, followed by Yazzie, then Rex. Tory and Ramona plodded behind, sharing control of the three pack animals loaded with their gold. They had all been changed by the journey into the Dragoons. They were linked by a bond of shared secrets and struggles for life. From these, relationships had been sealed.

  And perhaps . . . they were a little wealthier.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  On the afternoon they arrived back in Tombstone, it poured rain, transforming the desert into a cool, fragrant haven.

  Ramona transported Rex to the nearest hospital and took their precious gold treasure to the assayer's office. Dodge and Tory delivered Yazzie to the authorities, filed their complaints ranging from assault with a deadly weapon to Sharkey's murder, and made their statements to the district attorney. Then they headed for the trailer, mentally and physically exhausted—and soaking wet.

  "This isn't a rain," Tory complained as they watched the moisture sheet the Blazer's windshield. "It's a torrent, a cloudburst, a gully washer!"

  "A squall, a real toad strangler," Dodge added, pulling to a stop in the driveway. "But that's the way we get our moisture around here. All or nothing."

  "That's the way of many things in life, I guess," Tory said sadly, thinking that "all or nothing" related to more than she cared to admit. Like her relationship with Dodge. What would happen now?

  "I'll go unlock the door," he said, getting his key out. "And you follow."

  "How gallant of you, sir, now that I'm already soaked to the bone."

  "Can't help it. Justice must be served. I must admit, I'll rest better knowing Yazzie is behind bars in a real jail, not a hundred-fifty-year-old ruin."

  "I'll bet Yazzie is already dry and has had supper by now."

  "But he can't run out and play in the rain if he wants to. And we can."

  She eyed him closely. "I do not want to run out and play in the rain. I'm wet and tired. And anyway, this rain's cold. I want to take a shower and get warm."

  "Hmm, I should be able to manage that," he assured her with a devilish smile.

  She nodded and smiled graciously. "And I'm hungry!"

  "Hungry, huh? Why, I think we may have a few cans of dried beef or chicken chunks left."

  "No! No! Please, not canned chicken chunks!" she exclaimed, beating him on the shoulder with a teasing fist. "And if I never—ever—see another stringy slab of dried beef, I'll be content! Now, go! And have my shower running when I get there!"

  "Ah, yes, your highness!" Dodge said laughingly, and dashed through the rain.

  Tory followed closely, and soon they were scrubbing each other's backs in a hot shower. And still later, sipping hot tea and eating Ritz crackers and peanut butter in bed. In the nude.

  "So this is your idea of an instant meal?" She teased and poked a peanut-buttered cracker into his mouth for a bite. Then she popped the remaining cracker into her own mouth.

  He chewed and rolled his eyes as if it were the best meal in the world. "Why not? Peanut butter has held me together, body and soul, through all my bachelor years. It's life sustaining. Great on toast and English muffins and even, may my Jewish uncle forgive me, on bagels. And for those watching their lovely waistlines"—he paused to caress her slender bare arm— "spread it on celery. It does everything!"

  "Everything?" She gasped just before his lips claimed hers
in a demanding, long kiss.

  "Ah, yes, my favorite fragrance—peanut butter breath!" And he kissed her again to prove he wasn't lying.

  "Hmm, everything . . ." she murmured happily. "Just like you, Dodge. You do everything for me." She turned her face up to his as they scooted down between the cracker box and peanut butter jar.

  Gray clouds shrouded the small trailer, giving its occupants the illusion of darkness. And they sought comfort from each other.

  His lean tanned body was a brown shadow in the bed beside her, and she ran her hand over every masculine inch, luxuriating in the feel of him. She felt the contours of his face, stroking his cheeks and nose. Her tongue edged his lips, teasing and tasting. "Hmm," she murmured softly, letting her hands move over the muscles of his chest.

  Her head moved over his chest, her tongue tasting the beadlike nipples and making a hot, moist trail down his middle. She followed the tanned hair trail, dipping her tongue into his navel, and caressing his hips with curious hands. Daring, probing fingers slid over him, down to his thighs, then up again. Tormenting and teasing, the passion in her body was expressed by her hands as she showed him how much she wanted him.

  Lightning streaked across the sky, blazing jagged electrical currents from the storm-darkened clouds to the earth, sending flashes of light on the enraptured couple in the small trailer.

  Tory watched Dodge's body react to her every touch and felt her own blazing response to his closeness. She knew that she loved him. She wanted him inside her, branding her with his own fire, giving her all his strength. And she wanted him now and always.

  Instinctively, as she continued spreading her fingers over him, she felt this would be the last time they made love. She would make it good. Better than good—fantastic, bells ringing, wonderful, greater than great! She would make him want her love forever. She would love him like he'd never been loved. It was quite a challenge—but the thought of leaving Dodge after knowing him like this was torturous.

  Thunderous explosions rumbled continually overhead, sounding like a never-ending freight train. The noise was so abrupt and ominous that instinctively she ducked her head as if the roof were about to fall in on them.