by Alice Sharpe
They got off the horses again and walked them partway down the hill. Every twig they trod upon sounded like a thunderclap. Adam finally stopped at a flat spot and tied both horses to a tree. “That looks like an ATV down there. I’m going to check it out. You can stay with the horses.”
“That’s okay.” She fully intended to stay near the gun.
He pulled out the rifle and handled it as though he knew what he was doing. She crept along behind him.
The battered old scooterlike thing sported more rust than paint. It had obviously been parked in an out-of-the-way spot with some attempt at concealment. That kind of shouted nefarious goings-on to Echo, and her spine tingled between her shoulder blades.
He leaned in very close to her, one hand on her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. The juxtaposition of this intimacy and the tension of the situation really set the sparks flying.
“I’m going to see who’s in that cave. I want to catch him red-handed.”
Me, too! she thought but didn’t say. No way am I missing this.
Where was a camera crew when you needed one?
More creeping through the trees until she finally saw where they were headed. Even she could tell the doorlike thing over the mouth of the cave was ajar.
“I’m going in,” he said, turning to her. She’d been plastered to his back so they ended up nose to nose. “You stay here. If you hear shots or see someone come running out of that cave, stay hidden behind these rocks. Don’t try to help me. Don’t try to stop them. Just hide.”
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“Just listen to me, will you?”
“Stop bossing me around.”
“I should have tied you up with the horses.” With that he slunk away.
She lost sight of him for a few minutes, then he emerged next to the cave opening. In an instant, he’d slipped inside.
How could she bear standing outside waiting for something to happen? Besides, he might need help.
She started slinking down the trail. When she heard a muffled sound coming from the cave, she broke into a run.
Chapter Three
The lock was neatly sawed in half.
Adam patted his pockets for his flashlight as he stole through the door, then stopped. Whoever was in here had already lit the wall torches. The light wasn’t great but it was good enough to make his way.
Last March, Pierce had told him that he had found fuel in the torches which he’d assumed Adam or Cody had put there. They hadn’t. After they had proof that the burial chamber had been violated, Adam had made a point of emptying them, but obviously someone had come along after him and filled them again.
Damn. This place was just too remote to adequately safeguard now that someone was intent on robbing it. His father would need to see this for what it was or three generations of Westin stewardship was going to be for nothing. Maybe this thief was going at it slowly, but sooner or later, greed would get the better of him and all this history would disappear forever.
But why now, why after all these years? Who knew about it and how had they found out? Who had told?
Adam paused for a second as a new sound came from the cavern up ahead. It sounded like rocks falling but not enough for an avalanche. Hugging the wall, he waited a few minutes. The sound continued but now he could tell it wasn’t falling rocks. He held the rifle down at his side, ready in case he caught someone unprepared and that someone panicked, but not anticipating he would need to use it.
The cave floor was rocky and sloped toward the large main cavern. Two main tunnels led from this cavern; one traveled on to the burial chamber. The other emptied into one of several prospecting shafts.
He paused for a few seconds near the rocks that would give him cover before turning into the main cavern. Then he slowly and methodically rounded the rocks.
The torches had been lit in this cavern, as well. The floor was covered with stalagmites; stalactites descended from the ceiling. This time of year, they dripped steadily, forming rivulets through the main cavern.
A man was working on the distant side, near the out-cropping that led to the burial chamber tunnel. He wielded a pickax, apparently breaking up the rocks to create a larger and more direct opening. His movements near one of the torches threw giant wild shadows onto the walls.
Adam’s fingers tightened on the rifle. He remembered the metal cart Pierce had discovered in this chamber. They’d talked about what it was used for—neither remembered it being there years before. Now Adam speculated that this man had hauled it here, probably during the winter months when Pierce found the tampered lock on the gate near the BLM lease land. It currently appeared this guy was widening the entrance of the tunnel so he could use the cart for the wholesale looting of the chamber.
Adam swallowed hard. The noise from the man’s activities undoubtedly masked Adam’s infuriated advance across the cave, but Adam almost welcomed a confrontation. He wanted to know who this bozo was, catch him and haul his ass into town for the sheriff to deal with.
Something of his presence must have filtered through the man’s consciousness. The pickax stopped midswing and he turned abruptly. He wore a big tan cowboy hat and a bandana up around his face all the way to his eyes like the old bandits in the television shows wore. Between his getup and the terrible quality of the torch light, it was impossible to tell who he was although he wasn’t a huge guy.
None of the Garvey men were very big. Could this be a brother of the late Lucas and Doyle? Since the Garveys blamed the Westins for their deaths, could they feel justified in robbing this cave? No wait, the looting had started before they died. Still, it was possible Lucas had heard something of its existence and passed it along to his family.
“Stop what you’re doing,” Adam yelled.
The pickax clattered to the rocks, but just as quickly, a shotgun appeared. Adam ducked to the side as a blast whizzed past him. Behind him, he heard a scream.
Adam turned and scanned the cavern as he threw himself behind a forest of stalagmites.
It had to be Echo. He couldn’t see her at first because she wasn’t at the entrance. She’d traveled halfway around the perimeter of the cavern and was close now to the mine shaft. The thief saw her too and let off a blast in her direction. Echo screamed again and disappeared from sight. The man charged the exit, leaving Adam with a split second to make a decision—he either found out if Echo was hurt or he followed the thief.
He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he had to do. With a sinking heart, he kept low but he needn’t have bothered—the thief’s footsteps rumbled against the earth as he ran up the tunnel toward freedom. Hopefully he’d be so hell-bent on escape that he wouldn’t take time to look for their horses. Otherwise, Echo—and he—were in for a long walk home.
ECHO LAY ON HER BACK IN THE pitch-black. Thoroughly winded, she wasn’t sure what had happened except she’d fallen, hard, landing on her back, and now was working just to catch her breath.
There wasn’t a single inch of her that didn’t throb in pain.
And she’d seen Adam so she knew he knew she was there and if she could have heard anything over her own pounding heart and sharp intakes of breath, she imagined it would be him coming to scold her.
That roused her enough to pat the damp ground around her. Rocks, gravel, dirt, some mud…
“Echo?”
Adam. “Did he get away?” Her voice was a croak.
“What do you think?”
A light flashed over her face and she winced. It appeared to originate about ten feet over her head and now that her eyes grew accustomed, she could see she’d fallen down a shaft. To make matters more humiliating, a ladder descended right next to her. Well, if she ever moved again, she could at least climb out of this hole by herself.
Except it wasn’t a hole. It was a tunnel. Narrow and shored up with boards, it disappeared into blackness after a few feet. It felt deep and dank and she was sure it was full of unimaginable horrors.
“Are
you okay?”
Wasn’t that the second time he’d asked her that since they met again? “No,” she snapped, but found her breath came a little easier. “I’m fine, really. I’ll move in a minute.”
“I’ll come down—”
“No, please don’t. Throw me the flashlight—go after the bad guy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The light spun toward her and she caught it with one hand by flexing her wrist. Not bad.
“I’ll be back very soon,” he called but she could already hear his rapid steps leading away from the hole. That was fine with her.
She stayed still for several more minutes, then wiggled various limbs and appendages to make sure everything still worked. Nothing appeared to be broken. Using the sides of the shaft and the ladder, she drew herself to her feet. A quick inspection with the flashlight revealed cuts and scrapes acquired on the way down, rips in her clothing, a little blood and swelling. She took a breath that hurt her ribs, but not as though they were fractured.
Now to climb the ladder.
That took a while, but eventually, she hauled herself out of the shaft and crawled onto the cave floor. Just in time, too, because a tall, dark shape was approaching and she was pretty sure it was Adam.
She sure as hell hoped it was Adam.
“Is that quivering mass of womanhood lying on the floor my little cousin Echo?” he said.
She made herself sit up. “Very funny.”
He bent at the knees next to her. “The bad news is he got away. The good news is he didn’t have time to scatter the horses so you don’t have to walk home.”
Instead, she got to ride Bagels the wonder horse who would probably lay back his ears and take off like the wind.
“You’re kind of quiet. Hurt anything?”
“Everything. I’m fine, though.”
“Good. While you contemplate standing and walking, I’m going to go see what damage that jerk did and figure out a way to keep this place safe tonight.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“No.” He stood and walked off in the direction the man had been attacking with a pick. She closed her eyes, tried her first actual deep breath and lived through it.
By the time he returned, she’d managed to get to her feet and hobble a ways toward the lighter oval that represented the way out of this cave. “Find anything?”
He held out his hand. Two charred red shotgun shells rested in his palm. “Aren’t you a little glad you fell when you did?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes. Did he take anything?”
Adam extinguished each torch as they left the cave. “The burial chamber looks relatively unchanged from a few weeks ago, but judging from what he was up to today, I think he’s getting ready for a major haul.”
Limping alongside him, she did what she knew she had to do. “Adam, I’m sorry. If I had stayed outside the cave like you asked me to, you might have found out who he is.”
“Hmm,” he said, looking down at her. “That thought crossed my mind, too.”
“On the other hand if you’d just let me come with you, none of this would have happened.”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you always have to do everything yourself?”
“Echo, I swear—”
“But it’s also possible,” she interrupted, “that if I hadn’t diverted his attention and drawn his fire, he might have shot at you again. I might have saved your life.”
“Honestly. If we weren’t related—”
“We’re not. Not in any way.”
“Well, maybe not technically…”
“Not in any way,” she repeated. “If we were, would I do this?” And with that she grabbed his arm, turned him to face her and kissed him.
He backed away at once. “What are you doing?”
“Just what you’ve been wanting to do since you ogled me in your driveway.”
His eyes grew wide, the whites glistening in the poor light. “You are certifiable, do you know that?”
“Maybe I’m just honest.”
He shook his head again and clutched her elbow with an iron grip. She would have liked shaking him off, but the support helped. After dousing the last torch in the cavern he spoke again. “So, did you strike gold on your little prospecting tour of the mine shaft?”
“I didn’t have time,” she grumbled, thoroughly self-conscious now that she’d given in to the impulse to kiss him. She wasn’t used to men backing away from her. He was acting like nothing had happened. She knew she should act the same but her pride was a little wounded.
It took a while, but eventually they made it to daylight. It was like being reborn, this coming out of the dark into the light through a small opening, and it felt pretty wonderful. Echo took the deepest breath she’d managed yet.
“How are you going to keep him out?” she asked as he looped the chain through the door.
“I reinforced the burial chamber exit but who knows how long that will work. First things first. You need a medic. Your backside is a bloody mess.”
“If I were him, I’d come back tonight while you’re all asleep.”
“He’s not ready yet,” Adam grumbled, and she let it drop.
The reality of her backside occupied almost every moment of the long return ride. Thankfully, Bagels plodded along as though bored with the whole thing until he smelled the other horses or recognized the trees—hard to say how he knew they were home, but he did. His pace picked up, she bounced around harder and through it all, clenched her teeth and didn’t utter a single sound. By the time she slithered out of the saddle in the ranch yard, she was pretty sure she deserved a Purple Heart.
Pauline appeared on the large porch with a yellow Lab wagging its tail by her legs. Maybe the intervening years had grayed the housekeeper’s red curls, but Echo thought she would have recognized her kind face and compassionate eyes anywhere.
Pauline opened her arms as she hurried down the stairs. “Echo De Gris, I heard you were here. Just look at you. You’re all grown-up and looking more like your mother, God rest her soul, than ever. Stay down, Bonnie,” she added, directing her comment to the dog. To Echo, she added, “Come here, honey.”
Echo cautiously shied away from Pauline’s hug and the dog’s enthusiastic greeting with an apologetic smile punctuated by a wince or two.
“What happened to you?” Pauline demanded, eyes narrowing as she took a good look at Echo’s hair and clothes and the smudges and scratches and dirt. “Turn around. Merciful heavens. You’re home a few hours and you get yourself all banged up just like you always did. Or did Adam have something to do with this?”
Adam held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. Echo still has a flair for the dramatic. After I unsaddle the horses, I need to talk to Dad. Where is he?”
“Still out working on the mowers with Jamie and Pete and Cody.” Pauline waved Adam away and turned her attention back to Echo. “Come along, young lady, we need to get you cleaned up and bandaged before supper, though Lord knows what time of the night those men will actually come in to eat it.”
ADAM STOOD AT THE WINDOW and looked out at the moon-drenched silvery landscape. His stomach felt like it was full of snakes and he had his father’s obstinacy to blame for it.
He’d moved into his new house when the weather got warm although there was no time to work on fine-tuning the interior and wouldn’t be for several months. Nevertheless, he’d hauled in furniture and made himself a home, anxious to be on his own.
Ranching had cycles, all geared to market day in October when the season’s calves would be sold. Everything else worked up to and around that. After market, there would still be a million things to do as the winter progressed—fences and machinery maintenance and all the rest required constant vigil. Then they’d move the herd closer to the ranch as calving season approached—the actual grueling weeks of hundreds of cows giving birth, many of them first-time mothers or heifers who needed more help than the experien
ced animals—followed by moving the herd up to the high pastures for the summer, while mowing the organic grass and hay they would need to feed the cattle when the pastures froze during the winter. Buying good feed because you ran out of your own could eat up profit like crazy.
On and on it went. Since the beef was certified organic, each animal needed to be cared for in a more hands-on approach; scour and other maladies that befell newborn calves needed monitoring without massive or hit-and-miss doses of antibiotics. It all took extra time.
And his father had agreed to give it an all-out effort, respecting Adam’s research and passion about the direction to take with the herd. Adam deeply appreciated this sign of faith.
On the other hand, the old man wouldn’t give on the cave. He was stubbornly holding on to the idea that bigger, stronger locks would solve everything and the Westin men could safeguard an extinct peoples’ earthly remains forever.
Adam pushed himself away from the windowsill and tried lying down on his new mattress. He was usually comfortable being alone, although tonight he kept thinking about what Echo had said about him resembling a damn Bowerbird. He’d looked it up on the computer after supper—she was right, those birds really went to the extreme. Built elaborate nests for the sole purpose of attracting a sexual mate. Wham, bam, his job was over, the female went her merry way and he waited until the next female bird took a fancy to his nest.
But Adam Westin was not a bird. He was a man and if she couldn’t tell the difference—
But he thought she could. There had been a few moments today when he’d felt the overwhelming femininity of her colliding against him; he’d had to force himself to remember this wasn’t another pretty girl, this was his uncle’s stepdaughter. Worse, she was a television producer. What in the hell did a cowboy and television producer have in common?
How about that kiss?
No, she hadn’t meant that. She was just toying with him. She liked to make him squirm, that’s all that was.
He was soon back at the window, fidgeting with the blinds he’d installed, thinking maybe if the room was darker—
