by Janet Dailey
Tori gazed at the man across the table, grateful that, without being asked, he’d avoided all mention of the upcoming trial. He was, at all times, tactful, soft-spoken, and kind. And he was handsome enough to break hearts in his tweed blazer, dark shirt, and tie—not a bolo, but a real silk tie. With the candlelight sharpening the planes of his face, he could have stepped out of a PBS Edwardian drama.
She found herself imagining Will in this upscale dinner club—his big, rugged presence overpowering the intimate space, his restless nature demanding that they finish the meal and get back to the ranch to check on the cattle. He’d be more at home at a barbecue, where he could fill his plate and grab a beer, eat at his own pace, socialize or not, and leave when he was good and ready, with no apologies.
But why was she thinking about Will tonight?
“A penny for your thoughts.” Drew’s hand slid across the table to capture hers.
“I was thinking how much I needed this break tonight.” It wasn’t quite true, but close enough. “Thank you, Drew.”
“My pleasure. I know how much you must have on your mind.”
That’s the right thing to say, at the right time, she thought. “What I’ve got on my mind right now is you,” she said.
“I hope you mean that.” His hand tightened on hers, smooth palm, no calluses; but then, he was an educator, not a rancher. “I know I agreed to keep things platonic till the trial’s over. But if I’m going to wait, I need to know what I’m waiting for.” He cleared his throat. “Not to get too personal, but for a woman who’s been divorced eight years, you’re pretty involved with your ex.”
“It’s because of Erin. She loves her father and she loves the ranch. My staying involved gives her a sense of family.”
“So what if things were to come together for us, and I was in the picture full-time? Would that mean a sort of ménage à trois, with you running back and forth between two men?”
It wasn’t so much his question that surprised Tori as his timing. “Certainly not! Things would have to change. Erin’s growing up. She could handle a different arrangement.”
“But could Will? Why hasn’t he remarried? Is he still in love with you?”
His question rocked her, but only for the instant it took to come up with an answer. “Will is married. He’s married to his ranch. No woman on earth could compete with that.”
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I think I’m beginning to get the picture. Not that I want to pry, but I could be more understanding if I knew what split you apart.”
Tori gave him the Reader’s Digest condensed version of her story—how Will had put his father and the ranch ahead of his marriage, how Bull had disapproved of her working, and how things had gone from bad to worse after her miscarriage and partial hysterectomy.
“So you can’t have more children?”
“Not the regular way.” Will that be a problem for him? Tori wondered. However Drew might feel about having a family, it couldn’t be helped. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about telling him later. “My father-in-law wanted a houseful of strapping grandsons. He never forgave me for not being able to produce them.”
“And Will?”
“Will adored Erin from the first moment he saw her. He’d wanted more children, of course, but when they didn’t come, he lavished all his love on her. She was enough.” Tori realized her voice had gone tender.
“So what finally happened between you?” Drew asked.
“That’s another story. We could be here awhile.”
“I’m listening.” His thumb stroked the back of her hand, raising a tingle of awareness.
“First off, you have to know that I grew up in Blanco Springs. My father was a county judge.”
“So the law’s in your blood.” He gave her a smile.
“Something like that. While I was away at law school, he retired and moved with my mother to Florida. I came home to Blanco and married Will. Five years later, with the marriage already crumbling, my father died of a heart attack.
“When I got the word, I took Erin and caught the next flight to Florida. Will was too busy with his father and the ranch to leave right then, but he promised to be there in time for the funeral.” Tori paused. She’d told him enough. The rest was better left alone.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Will didn’t show up for your father’s funeral.”
“That’s right. I stayed two weeks to settle things and be with my mother. He never showed up, and I never lived with him again.”
And never slept with him—until the night of the blizzard. But that lapse in judgment was best buried and forgotten.
There was more to the story—like the reason why Will hadn’t come to Florida, or so much as called her during the two weeks she was away. But even after eight years, that memory was a raw wound. And the truth—that the deathblow to the marriage had been struck by Will’s jealousy and distrust—was too painful to share.
She gave Drew an easy laugh. “Next time we’ll talk about you,” she said.
“There’s not much to talk about.” He signed the bill the waiter had left on the table and rose to help her with her chair. “I grew up in Omaha, one older sister. Graduated from college with a master’s in educational administration. Worked here and there. Came to Blanco for a change of scene—or maybe to find the right woman. What do you think? Have I found her?”
“That remains to be seen.” She snuggled into her coat as he settled it around her shoulders and offered her his arm as they walked to the car. She was tired and she’d drunk a little too much wine. But she had to credit Drew for a pleasant, relaxing date.
It was almost eleven when he pulled up to her house and walked her to her door and gave her a long, slow good-night kiss. “I won’t invite myself to come in,” he said. “But not because I don’t want to. You must look lovely in your sleep.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she said. “I need to start work on Will’s case tomorrow, and I’m going to need a clear head. Besides, you’ve got school, Mr. Middleton.”
“Sleep tight, Tori.” He feathered a second kiss across her lips and turned away. As she opened her door, he trotted out to his car and climbed inside.
Tori watched him drive away. Their date had been rewarding, she thought. They’d gotten to know each other without crossing any lines. Maybe she’d revealed too much of herself, but Drew had been a good listener and a perfect gentleman. She wanted the chance to know the man better. But preparing for Will’s trial had to come first. For the next few weeks, nothing else could be allowed to matter.
She could only hope Drew would have the patience to wait.
* * *
By ten the next morning, the weather had warmed enough to feel comfortable. Wearing hats and jackets and packing a lunch, a flashlight, and a small shovel, Lauren and Erin mounted up and took the trail that wound through the foothills into the deep canyons. The turquoise sky was winter-bright, dazzling above the time-sculpted towers of the escarpment. A quail, perched atop a stunted cedar, scolded them as they rode past. The earth smelled rich and clean.
They rode side by side, laughing and chatting. Lauren was glad she’d decided to take the girl exploring today. After Will’s night in jail, Erin had become more and more worried about her father. A day of treasure hunting in the canyon would provide a welcome diversion.
Lauren, too, had felt the need to explore the sliver of land that had caused so much contention between the Prescotts and the Tylers. She’d been there with Sky when they’d freed up the spring and taken out the barbed-wire fence. But he’d been in a hurry that day so they hadn’t stayed long. Today she wasn’t expecting to find Spanish treasure; but before selling the land back to the Rimrock, she wanted to at least take a closer look. With winter coming, this brief warm spell might be her last chance.
By the time they reached the petroglyph canyon, they were both hungry. They tethered the horses near the canyon mouth, where the animals could graze and drink from the spring.
Then they spread a cloth on the sand at the foot of the decorated cliff and feasted on Bernice’s homemade bacon sandwiches, topped off with oatmeal cookies and canned root beer.
“Jasper says we won’t find any treasure because it’s just a story,” Erin said. “But what if it’s really there? Do you think it might be?”
“My grandfather never found it,” Lauren said. “But what do you think?”
Erin nibbled her oatmeal cookie. “Sky always tells me the best way to handle a horse is to think like the horse. Maybe if we want to find the Spanish gold, we should think like the Spaniards. You know, pretend we’re trapped in the canyon and the Comanches are closing in, and we have to hide our treasure fast.”
“That’s a very clever idea,” Lauren said. “What do you say we clean up our picnic and try it? You’re in charge.”
They packed the remains of their lunch, put on work gloves, and gathered up the tools they’d brought. Erin led the way up the box canyon’s narrow, steep entrance to the small clearing on higher, more level ground.
Putting down their tools, they surveyed the spot. On the left, a wall of broken rock rose fifty feet above their heads. Fallen boulders and scree lay thick along its base. Willows, on their right, overhung the spring that trickled down into the lower canyon; behind the spring a high bank of crumbling earth sloped upward, then crested and dipped toward pastureland now owned by the syndicate that had bought out the Prescott Ranch.
The ground under their feet was hard-packed sand and gravel, dotted with tussocks of weedy grass. Almost thirty years had passed since Ferg Prescott had dug for buried treasure here and left empty-handed. The canyon looked as if it hadn’t been touched since.
Glancing around her, Lauren experienced a strange unease. She’d never known herself to have psychic gifts, but instinct whispered that something dark had happened here—something evil, best left alone.
Erin, however, was all grins and excitement. Asking her to leave, based on a whim of imagination, would be cruel, Lauren decided. For now, she would play along. But she’d keep an eye out for the first sign of trouble.
Erin’s gaze traveled up the crumbling cliff. “This is cool!” she exclaimed. “If there’s treasure here, maybe the two of us together will be smart enough to find it! Now let’s think. We’re Spaniards, we’ve got a chest full of treasure, and the Comanches are coming after us. What do we do?”
“We need to get away.” Lauren joined in the game. “But gold is heavy and hard to carry. We’ll have a better chance of escape if we hide it now and come back for it later.”
“Right.” Erin glanced around. “So what do we do with it?”
“We could bury it,” Lauren suggested.
Erin thought a moment, then shook her head. “We’re in a hurry. Digging a hole in hard ground takes time. And we might not even have a shovel. Besides, we’d have to camouflage the hole when we were finished. That would take time, too. What else could we do?”
“Drop it into the spring?”
“Too easy to see. And if the treasure’s in a wooden chest or a leather bag of some kind, the water could ruin it and scatter the gold. What else?”
“Let’s look around.” Lauren was enjoying the harmless fun. Maybe the unease she’d felt earlier had been nothing more than her imagination. “If the Spaniards were here at all, it would’ve been two or three hundred years ago, maybe even longer. Any hiding place would have changed on the surface.”
“Maybe.” Erin made a slow visual circle of the clearing, muttering half to herself. “We’re on the run. We have to hide the treasure someplace fast, someplace safe and dry, where nobody will see it.”
A curious raven launched itself from the cliff top, circled, and glided down to perch on a nearby boulder. Unafraid, it studied the visitors with intelligent black eyes. Erin froze, staring at it. “The rocks,” she said. “We’d hide the treasure in the rocks. It’s the only place that makes sense.”
The idea made sense to Lauren, too. But over the years tons of rock would have broken loose and crashed down the cliff to shatter at the bottom. The layer of scree piled along the cliff base was at least five feet thick. If any treasure had been buried in the rocks, it would be buried deep.
“Can you imagine how much rock must’ve fallen down here since the time of the Spaniards?” Lauren asked. “You and I could never dig through it all. If there’s more loose rock up on that high wall, it could even be dangerous. Maybe we should just take Jasper at his word and go home.”
“Not yet.” As the raven flapped away, Erin stood her ground, gazing at the fallen scree. “I read this in a detective book once. When a lot of rocks fall by themselves, they usually land together—you can see it if you know what to look for. And when you look up, the rocks should match where they came from, and match each other. If not, that’s a sign the rocks have been moved. I’m looking for a place where the rocks have been moved.”
Lauren suppressed the urge to argue. She’d never seen this stubborn side of Erin before. The girl was definitely her father’s daughter. And she was so excited, so determined to find what she was looking for. As long as it made her happy, it wouldn’t hurt to play the game a little longer.
“There.” Erin pointed. “Right there. Look.”
Not far from the steep trail that led down into the petroglyph canyon, rocks were piled against the foot of the cliff. Lauren wouldn’t have noticed on her own, but the rocks did indeed look as if they’d been moved there. The way they were stacked wasn’t how they’d have landed if they’d fallen naturally. And not only did they not match each other, they didn’t match the cliff face above them, where they would have broken off.
Erin was beside herself. “There’s got to be something behind those rocks! Come on! Let’s get them out of the way!”
“Wait!” Lauren held her back. “Let me make sure it’s safe.” She scanned the cliff face where it rose above the rock pile. It looked solid enough. To make doubly sure, she flung a fist-sized rock at the cliff. The rock bounced off and clattered to the ground, but nothing else moved. “All right, we’ll try it,” she said, wishing they’d brought hard hats. “But if you hear something break loose, jump back fast.”
The sandstone rocks were heavy, but not massive. None of them would have been too large for a strong man to lift into place. Lauren and Erin, however, had to struggle. They started at the top of the pile, loosening the rocks and rolling them off to one side or the other. It was slow going, but Erin’s enthusiasm kept them at it.
“I told you we’d find it,” she said. “The treasure’s got to be here. It’s just got to be!”
Lauren kept her silence. By now, she was certain the girl would be disappointed. If these rocks had been piled up centuries ago by treasure-hiding Spaniards, the exposed surfaces would be uniformly weathered, dotted with lichens and overgrown by native plants. These rocks were still clean, meaning they probably hadn’t been here more than a few decades. Whatever lay behind them would likely have been hidden, not by Spaniards, but by Lauren’s own grandfather Ferguson Prescott.
* * *
Beau got the phone call as he and Will were riding back to the ranch in Will’s pickup. They’d spent much of the morning checking the pasturelands. The past summer’s fire had burned most of the grass to the ground. By early fall new grass had sprouted, painting the land with promise. But the ice storm had left it brittle, brown, and stunted. There was no way the cattle would survive the winter without extra feed.
After lunch they’d driven up onto the caprock to buy hay from a farmer they knew. The man was fair and honest, but the price of hay had skyrocketed all over Texas. Will’s stomach had clenched as he heard the final amount. But, knowing it had to be done, he’d taken out his pen and scrawled the check. The huge, rolled hay bales would be delivered two days from now.
They were headed back down the winding road to the ranch when Beau’s phone rang. Mired in his own gloom, Will didn’t pay the call much attention at first. Only when he heard Beau ar
guing did he start to listen.
“This can’t be your final decision,” Beau was saying. “Look, we’ve always paid our bills. I can bring in some collateral. Just a few more months, that’s all we’re asking—”
He broke off with a curse as the call ended. “The bank’s declined to extend our loan,” he said. “I tried, but they know you’ll be going to trial, and they don’t want to take a chance. Damn them!”
Will felt surprisingly calm, but maybe he was just numb. “I was expecting something like this,” he said. “Getting arrested doesn’t exactly raise a man’s standing with the bank.”
“So what can we do about it?” Beau demanded.
“For now, not much. We’ve already cut expenses to the bone. When the loan comes due, if we can’t pay, we’ll have no choice except to lose the land. The only alternative would be to sell it first. The syndicate’s got money, and I’m guessing they’d be happy to add some Rimrock land to their spread, especially if they could pin us to the wall and get it for a bargain.”
“The syndicate!” Beau swore. “They’d gobble up the whole damned county if they could. Dad would turn over in his grave.”
“He’d turn a lot faster if we went under and lost the ranch. This is about survival—especially if I end up doing prison time.”
“Don’t even think about that,” Beau said.
“I have to think about it. If it happens, I want to leave the Rimrock in manageable shape.”
“You think I can’t handle the ranch alone?”
“Let’s not even go there.”
They drove in tense silence for a mile before Beau spoke again. “Hey, maybe Erin and Lauren will find the Spanish treasure and share enough money to bail us out. Wouldn’t that be something?”
“Dream on, little brother.” With a bitter chuckle Will rounded the last bend in the road and set a straight course for home.
* * *
Erin and Lauren had cleared about three feet off the top of the rock pile. Lauren was getting tired. Her back and shoulders ached. She was going to be sore for a week.
