He froze. “Tell me what?”
“It’s not something we should discuss in here.” Colt put his arm around Carianne’s waist to guide her forward. They intended to follow him, so Rhyan led the way into the cool evening air.
Apprehension curled around him, though he didn’t know why. That was happening more and more lately, giving him indigestion. He stopped outside where light from the overhanging lanterns spilled on the ground. Turning slowly, he crossed his arms and looked first at Carianne, then to Colt.
“Carianne thinks your grandpa may have hidden some of his gold.”
Rhyan lowered his gaze back to Carianne. She threw her head back in that defiant gesture he knew so well. “I remembered something your grandfather wrote in a book. Something about his gold that led me to think he might not have taken it all to the banks.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“It happened when you and Colt had gone to Laramie.” She threw her hands apart. “So much happened when you returned, I forgot.”
Rhyan remembered Grandpa telling about his gold, how he’d gathered it nugget by nugget, how he’d lugged it half way across the country, dodging hostile Indians. If he’d hidden any of it, he’d have told Rhyan. “Where did Grandpa say he’d left the gold?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what he wrote exactly. We have to find the book.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to look,” Colt said.
“If he hid any gold, it’d be in the house. I’ll check every nook and cranny.” Rhyan ran frustrated fingers through his hair. Foolish to think he’d ever find anything, but he’d seen that look in Carianne’s eyes before. She was never wrong. “There’s a large safe in the cellar, although I’m sure it’s empty.”
“You might be wasting your time,” Carianne said. “We should search for the book first.”
He picked up on the word we. “The book should be easy enough to find. You cataloged everything, so it can be found by title, author, or subject, right?”
“I can’t remember what the title, author, or subject was. I do know it had to have been one of the older books. I could identify the publication date from the card catalog.”
“After she identifies the books, you and I can look through them,” Colt said.
“All right. I’ll get the house searched tomorrow. If we don’t find anything, we’ll meet to look through—how many books are we talking about?”
Carianne’s laughter sounded strained. “I didn’t count them. Possibly two or three thousand, but I can narrow it down, I think.”
The wind blew through his wet clothes, making him shiver. Concern flashed in her eyes. “You need to get home right away and get on some dry clothes.” For the first time tonight she gave him that old look of love. He probably scrutinized her face a bit too long. She bit her lip and glanced to Colt.
Rhyan nodded and turned from them. Could it be possible Grandpa had left some of his gold hidden? Somewhere? He shouldn’t allow that flicker of hope to spring forth. What were the odds that his grandpa would have hidden part of his gold and didn’t tell anyone—not even Rhyan?
A funny thing about faith. Even when you knew something probably wasn’t true, if you wanted it to be true, hope sparked a fire.
Chapter 15
A brilliant sun began its descent in the summer sky the next day when Carianne flicked the reins and got her buggy underway to the Double Bar H. Colt had agreed to go with her to Sollano to search for the book containing Oliver Cason’s cryptic note about hidden gold. They’d set the time for two o’clock.
Was it a fool’s errand? Perhaps, but it was worth the time if they could save Sollano.
Emma was back, though she hadn’t made an appearance at the barn dance, not that she’d have confronted Carianne or Rhyan in public anyway. She’d save up her questions until they were alone.
Her desire to see Emma’s motherly face prompted her to set out early enough for a short visit before she and Colt went to Sollano to search for the book.
Mechanical problems with the train had delayed Emma’s arrival. She’d missed the barn dance and church the next morning. Tom brought Carianne the news Emma’s train pulled in at six o’clock Sunday evening, and she’d gone straight home.
Carianne’s high-heeled boots tapped pleasantly on the wooden porch planks at the ranch house. She balanced Martha’s ten-layer chocolate cake in both hands with a large book tucked under her arm. Realizing she couldn’t knock on the door in the usual way, she kicked it with the toe of her boot.
Emma flung open the door. “Honey chile, come in here.” She took the cake dish.
“Martha sent the cake.”
“And my favorite too. We’ll have a piece later.” Emma hustled to the dining room table and set the cake on the red checkered tablecloth.
Right behind her, Carianne held out her homecoming gift. “That book you asked for came in.”
Emma took the leather book of several Godey issues bound together. “You found that old Godey’s. Thank you, honey chile.” The book went on the table with the cake. “But right now, I want to get ahold of you.”
Carianne fell into the embrace and let Emma squeeze the breath out of her. It felt good though, to be hugged to someone whose friendship transcended age and circumstances. She drew the scent of lemon verbena before straightening and gazing into Emma’s blue eyes. Were there more worry wrinkles creasing her brow?
How much did Emma know? What did she think about Carianne seeing Colt? No need to ask. Emma was the type not to hold anything back. She’d fled the Yankees at the end of the war and, after that, faced droughts, sickness, and loss, including the deaths of her husband and a son. Emma had been through hardships Carianne couldn’t imagine.
“I didn’t get back in time for church yesterday,” Emma said. “How was the service?”
Behind the casual question was a need to know if the rumors had died down. At one time a few in the church had wanted to turn Carianne out. Her friends had stood by her, including Emma.
“It was a nice service. Everyone is as friendly as can be.” She didn’t want to dwell on the past, so she added, “I know you enjoyed your visit with your daughter and grandchildren.”
Emma patted her cheek. “Let me show you the photographs of my new granddaughter.” She scudded off to the mantel and brought back two picture frames.
Carianne took them and gushed over the photographs of a tiny infant and two little boys before handing them to Emma. She noted the light in Emma’s eyes and how the wrinkles in her forehead relaxed. Nothing could satisfy a woman more than seeing her children well married with children of their own.
“They’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss them.” Emma put the frames back in their place. “But those two boys about wore me out.” She chuckled, and the lines around her eyes crisscrossed.
With a soul-penetrating gaze into Carianne’s eyes, Emma twisted her mouth as her smile faded. “Come on over here and let’s talk.”
Carianne sat in the chair at the end of the settee adjacent to Emma’s rocker as a flock of butterflies flew into her stomach. Colt would be in soon. She didn’t have time for small talk.
“I know Rhyan came by St. Louis to see you on his way home, and I was wondering if he said anything to you about—” About what? Why he’d decided he couldn’t marry her? Emma didn’t even know he’d proposed. “How he felt…about me.”
Emma let her head fall back against the rocker’s slatted back and looked off as if gathering her thoughts. “He gave me the impression he loved you as much as any man can love a woman.” Her chin dropped as a little smile played about her mouth. “He seemed anxious to get back home to court you. I got the impression he intended to propose before the summer’s end.”
Carianne could only blink. If she expected Emma to know why Rhyan had changed so much, she didn’t. “Was that before he knew about the anthrax epidemic?”
Emma pushed back a loose strand of silver hair. “No, he’d just s
een his lawyer about that. Naturally, he was worried about the ranch, but that didn’t change his opinion of you. I’m not mistaken, Carianne. He told me he intended to ask you to marry him.”
Carianne leaned over the edge of her seat. “Emma, Rhyan had already asked me to marry him right before his business trip…and he wrote me these beautiful love letters from all the towns where he stopped.” She clenched her hands together on her knees. “I don’t understand what happened between the time he saw you and when he got home.”
“I haven’t got the foggiest.” Emma’s eyes widened as her brows rose. “He had already proposed marriage?”
Carianne dropped her gaze to the creases in her skirt. She rubbed them with suddenly damp palms. “He wanted to keep it secret until he’d had a chance to make the newspapers retract that story about me, then he’d come back and court me properly. He didn’t want anyone to think we…had to get married.”
Emma nodded. “I see. I recollect he mentioned something about that to me.”
Finding it impossible to sit under the older woman’s scrutiny, Carianne shot from her chair to pace about. “Well, I don’t see. I don’t understand what happened.” She’d already betrayed Rhyan’s trust in revealing their secret, so she might as well tell it all. “He told me he wanted to give his heart to me and to God…that he believed everything Jesus said.”
Tears threatened, and she paused to swallow them. “When he came back, he said he tried to believe but couldn’t.” She stopped in front of Emma. “That’s what he said, but there may have been another reason.” She sniffed. “Abby Sinclair is getting a divorce. Rhyan had no sooner returned to the ranch than he left with her for Washington.”
Emma’s mouth pursed into a hard line and her nose wrinkled like she smelled something foul. “Abby Sinclair? Hadn’t heard about her in a long time. How do you know?”
“The story about her divorce was in the newspaper.”
“Colt told me Rhyan was back at Sollano. He was at the barn dance.”
“Yes, he didn’t stay long in Washington. That’s the strange part. He must have turned right around when they got there. The only explanation I can think of is he told Abby about possibly losing the ranch, and she refused him because she’s only interested in men with money. That must be why he—” She bit her lip. Did she dare confide in Emma about Rhyan kissing her at the chapel?
“He what?”
“I went out to the chapel to offer to pay for it because Rhyan’s finances are strained.” She clasped her hands to the back and strode the length of the sofa, careful to keep from facing Emma. “He…he kissed me, and after he’d made it clear he no longer wanted to have anything to do with me, I could only surmise he’d reconsidered since he couldn’t have Abby.”
She whipped around, hoping Emma would disabuse her of that notion.
Emma took her hand and nudged her back to the chair. “That might be one explanation. Or, he might have been truthful to you. He can’t bring himself to accept Christian salvation yet. It might have nothing to do with you, or certainly not Abby. Might be a spiritual battle instead of a romantic battle.” Emma lifted one shoulder. “As to kissing you. The flesh is always at war with the Spirit. No, Rhyan’s not that fickle.”
Carianne recalled her dream. The cornfield. The lion. She shivered and hugged herself. “That may be true, but I don’t want him to believe just to please me.”
Emma patted her hand. “Of course you don’t. Just give it time. I’m of the opinion no one can come to God except God calls him in His own time. Recall that Jesus said something like, ‘If you have ears to hear and eyes to see—’ But those who don’t have ears to hear or eyes to see, can’t understand. Rhyan just hasn’t come to the realization you have to accept those teachings based on faith.”
She searched Emma’s features, blinking back persistent tears. Surely that didn’t mean God wouldn’t call Rhyan. That was ridiculous. Whosoever will could be saved. “I hope you’re right, Emma, but Rhyan’s and my relationship isn’t to be, and I can’t trust myself to be alone with him.”
“Honey, however much you know about Rhyan, God knows him better and loves him more.”
“But what should I do? I’ve decided to go on with my life, my plans for the library and theater.” She couldn’t tell Emma about Colt. If he wanted Emma to know, he’d tell her.
“I got a letter from Myra telling me you weren’t having anything more to do with Rhyan.” There was a hint of censure in Emma’s tone. Carianne could only wonder what Myra had told her.
“Now you know it’s more like he doesn’t want to have any more to do with me.” She released a deep sigh and sagged against the cushions.
Emma set the rocker in a gentle sway. “All we can do is pray. I remember the church when we first came here. There was a moaning bench up front.”
Silence dragged for a few moments, then Emma reached a pointed finger to tap Carianne on the arm. “Old Mrs. Statem would hobble up there to the bench every service, and you could hear her wailing all over the church. Her two eldest sons ran with an outlaw gang out west.”
“Did they ever come home?”
“No, but after their ma died, they left the gang and became upstanding citizens. One of them is a mayor of some little town in Wyoming.” Emma laughed. “We all said when Mrs. Statem got to heaven she hung onto God’s robes until He answered her prayers.”
“I do pray, Emma.” But enough?
“I’ve been praying a long spell myself. Sometimes I can’t help thinking Rhyan would benefit by a hard knock on the head with a stiff board. You know, to get his attention.” She shook her head. “Don’t pay me no mind. I blurt out things like an old woman. Colt told me y’all were going to search through the books at Sollano. What’s that all about?”
Carianne glanced at the clock sitting in the middle of the mantel. “Colt said he’d meet me here at two o’clock, and he’d go with me to the ranch. I remembered a message Oliver Cason wrote in one of the books about his hidden gold.”
She scooted to the edge of her seat. Emma might know something about it. “You knew Oliver Cason well. Did he ever mention hiding some of his gold?”
“Not a thing. He was kind of closed-mouth about his money.”
“When I first found the note in that book I thought surely Rhyan would have been told.”
“Rhyan was little more than a boy when Oliver died. He probably wouldn’t have said anything to Rhyan, and from what I hear, Oliver didn’t leave a will.”
“Was Oliver the type of man who would have done such a thing? Hidden his gold, I mean?”
Emma rubbed her chin for a moment then chuckled. “You know, he was. Oliver enjoyed pulling a joke on people and did often. Nothing as serious as hiding gold, but yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him.” She laughed again. “Wouldn’t it be something if y’all found something?”
“I don’t want to get Rhyan’s hopes up, but deep inside, I know we’ll find something. Do you ever feel that way, Emma? That you just know something without any reason?”
“It’s what I call conviction of the Spirit, and I’ll be praying you’re right. It’s a shame Rhyan can’t believe like that. I just wish—”
Whatever Emma meant to say was cut off when Colt came into the room. He strode across the room to Carianne and pulled the ribbon in her hat. “Hello, Carianne.”
It was an innocent gesture, like a brother would give a sister, but Emma’s brows lifted the slightest bit.
Colt took Carianne by the hand and pulled her up. “I’m ready to go over to Sollano to look through those books when you’re ready.”
“I take it their search of the house didn’t yield anything.”
“No, and I’m sure Rhyan had everyone looking from the attic to the cellars.”
Emma coughed not so subtly. “Colt, would you give Carianne and me a little more time?”
Colt looked from his mother to Carianne. “All right. I’ll wait for you out on the porch.” He’d obviously neglected to tell Emm
a he’d asked to call on Carianne.
Emma grunted as she got to her feet. Carianne stayed where she was as Emma grasped both her hands holding them in strong grip. “You haven’t gotten over your feelings for Rhyan no matter what anyone says. I know you and I know him.”
“I thought we agreed there’s nothing I can do about that except pray.” The words came out defiantly, as if she dared Emma to question her.
“What about Colt?”
What did she mean by that? “Colt knows Rhyan as well as anyone.”
“Yes, he knows Rhyan…but does he know you?”
“I think he does.”
Emma smiled widely enough that deep tracks creased her cheeks. “Then I’m satisfied. However it turns out between you and Rhyan, I just don’t want my son to get his heart broken in the process.”
Heat rushed up Carianne’s neck, and she didn’t know exactly what to say. “I’d never do that. Colt and I understand each other.” She hoped he did understand.
Emma kissed her cheek. “Then that’s all that matters. You run along, but come on back for supper tonight. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Chapter 16
Rhyan holed up in his office, leaving Maria in charge of the crew looking through the library books. The transom above the door to the office made it possible for him to hear what went on in the library. Though the voices were muffled, he easily picked out Carianne’s mellow soprano. Her tone was lithe, sometimes musical, with a touch of laughter in her voice, even when she wasn’t laughing.
She was the reason he refused to come out.
Not that he didn’t want to see her, but she was there with Colt. Rhyan couldn’t take those playful overtures between the two. Not in his own house. For as long as it was his house.
Jealousy had never bothered him before, even though he and Colt had vied for the same women in the past. That had been just a game. He didn’t care then.
He’d fallen in love a dozen times before and never had any trouble falling out of love. These feelings were hanging on far too long.
After reading the same sentence of the correspondence before him half a dozen times, he gave up trying to concentrate. The commotion on the other side of the door rose and fell. Tension grew as the minutes ticked off, and when the door opened, he jumped.
Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2) Page 16
