Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2)

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Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2) Page 19

by Elaine Manders


  Carianne raised her head, fixing her gaze on him. The candlelight flickered in his eyes. He still had the power to take her breath away by a single glance. It meant a lot that he believed her opinion about the gold had merit. She’d been afraid he’d ridicule the whole thing.

  For a time, nothing but the ping of knives and forks on china broke the silence. She knew Rhyan was running plans through his mind to dig up the soddy. The rest were just enjoying their food.

  She felt confident to bring up the subject of the culture center. “Colt spoke to Molly about my buying the saloon. I inspected it the other day, and it looks perfect for what I need.

  “What are you going to be serving, Carianne, lemonade and sarsaparilla?” Rhyan asked.

  Martha laughed. “Carianne has big plans.”

  Carianne sent Colt a sidelong glance. She sensed tension in him, which was unusual for the normally relaxed rancher, but she’d brought up the subject and couldn’t go back now. “I’m going to partition the front into a public library and restaurant. The back will be a theater where we’ll hold both plays and speaking and musical engagements. The upstairs rooms will be rented to visitors.”

  Rhyan poised his fork in mid-air. “What visitors?”

  “The patrons who’ll want to see the plays, the speakers, and singers.”

  “Where’ll they come from? There’re maybe a dozen people in the area who’d be inclined to see a show.”

  “But I’m going to advertise all over the country.” She turned her attention back to her food.

  “See, I told you she had grand plans,” Martha said.

  Rhyan dropped his fork and reared back in his seat. “Carianne, did it ever occur to you there are already theaters and restaurants and operas in the big cities, and that’s where the people who care about that sort of thing live. Why would they come out here to the most remote place in the country to see what they have in their own backyard?”

  Colt spoke up. “Carianne is going to put on some of those wild-west shows like we had during the spring festival. Plenty of people came in to see our show.”

  “Carianne should know how much those shows cost to put on, week after week. Have you considered how much it’ll cost?” He directed the question to her.

  Before Carianne could respond, Martha broke in. “Would you like some more potatoes, Rhyan? Your plate’s empty.”

  Rhyan didn’t take his gaze off Carianne. “No, thank you, Martha. The meal was delicious, but I’m full.” His look told Carianne he was full of more than the meal.

  Carianne fingered her hair, searching for any stray tendrils to be put back in place while fighting to control her emotions. “People come from all over to see Buffalo Bill.”

  Rhyan lifted his glass in agreement and set it back down with a thud. “They do, but he goes to where it’s convenient to them, not some little prairie town no one’s ever heard of, and he’s made a name for himself. You can’t draw people in with Colt’s wranglers busting a bronco or riding a bull.”

  Colt threw his napkin on his plate. “They might. There was a time nobody heard of Buffalo Bill.”

  A chuckle erupted from Tom. “I suppose some of those big cities were once no bigger than Westerfield.” Apparently Tom was trying to defuse the hostility that tightened between Rhyan and Colt.

  It didn’t work. Rhyan pushed back causing his chair to scrape the floor. “I’ve never heard of such a stupid— You haven’t already bought that saloon, have you?”

  The sting of his words reached into her and squeezed her heart. She averted her eyes and dropped her head. “Yes.” She looked at him from under her lashes and found him staring at her.

  He cut his gaze to Colt. “And you stood by and let her do that?”

  “It’s her money, and I think it’ll work.”

  Rhyan jumped up so suddenly his chair tipped back and hit the floor with a bang, startling everyone. With an exaggerated sigh, he righted the chair. “Martha, Tom, thank you for your hospitality. I have to be going.”

  Carianne lifted her head, fixing her gaze on him and their eyes locked for a split second before he turned and stalked off, muttering something under his breath.

  The backs of her eyes burned, and she pressed her fingers to them to hold back tears. “I think I have something in my eye, please excuse me.” Thankfully, her voice didn’t quiver.

  “Probably dust,” Martha said. “You’d have thought that rain we had would’ve knocked down some of the dust.”

  In a blur, Carianne made her way to the kitchen and braced herself over the dry sink. Now he thought her stupid. Maybe she was. At least he agreed to look for the gold. If he didn’t find it— No, he would, and if he did, maybe he’d believe, and if he believed, maybe he’d care for her as he had once before.

  She’d made up her mind to forget the past, forget him.

  But she couldn’t.

  She stared out the window. Rhyan had mounted his roan stallion and was twisting the animal around with more force than necessary. Hooves pawed the air and the horse galloped in a cloud of dust. A display of Rhyan’s anger, and his desire to get away from her.

  The tears she’d been holding back gushed, flooding her cheeks. Oh, Rhyan, why must you do this to me?”

  Chapter 19

  Rhyan finally managed to wedge himself down into the cellar of the soddy. He darted a strained gaze around the enclosure, taking in the rotten timbers—all that held the structure up. A clump of dirt fell in his face.

  Ducking his head, he swiped his eyes. Broken shelves, old jars and tin cans scattered across the floor. Nothing visible that could contain any sizeable amount of gold.

  Two walls had caved in, and his muscles ached at the prospect of digging them out.

  “Boss.” Jake’s shout from above jarred the intense silence like the blast of a train’s whistle. “See anything?”

  “I see we can’t do this job by ourselves. Carlos is rounding up some men and horses. We’ll have to wait on them.” Rhyan grabbed hold of the rope ladder and scrambled up through the narrow hole. The breeze hit his sweating brow like a refreshing shower.

  He’d already inspected the soddy’s main rooms, even the two lean-tos. It was incredible to think that his queenly grandmother had actually lived in this dump. He and Jake had been working since dawn, and the sun was already at the ten o’clock position. Considering the care they’d have to take in removing the structure and sifting through the dirt, it would take an army of men all day.

  Wasted time? Logic tried to nip away every shred of hope they’d actually find anything. Yet, deep inside him he knew the gold was here. He’d seen that assurance in Carianne’s eyes and recalled where he’d seen it before. Out by an abandoned apple orchard when he’d lain pinned to the ground by a man holding a gun to his head. She’d been praying for him when a miraculous surge of strength saved him.

  She was praying for him now, and if she was convinced the gold was here, he was too. They’d find it if it took all week.

  A lone horseman raced across the waving grass. Jake caught sight of him at the same time. “Wonder who that is?”

  “We’ll wait and see.” Rhyan began picking up pieces of rotten wood and carrying them to the pile they’d started. It would take at least ten minutes for the man to reach them. Off to the south he spotted a group of horses and wagons traveling at a slower pace. Obviously, Carlos and his crew.

  He paid no attention to any of them until he heard thundering hoof beats. After brushing off his jeans, he looked up to where Deputy U. S. Marshal Vaughn was reining in his horse. Nothing in the lawman’s face told Rhyan whether he carried good news or bad.

  Marshal Vaughn didn’t intend to stay long because he dragged his horse behind him as he walked up. “Mr. Cason, just wanted to let you know the outcome of Hawk and his accomplices.”

  Vaughn referred to the gunslinger who’d orchestrated the anthrax epidemic. “And?”

  “Hawk’s getting twenty years, and I’m sorry to say, the other two were rel
eased in exchange for their testimony.”

  “I know. They came by trying to bribe me into testifying for me in the civil trial.”

  “How’d they do that?” The question blasted like a gunshot, coming from a man used to interrogation.

  “They wanted their jobs back and their back pay. In exchange for that, they’d testify.”

  The Marshal wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not that I condone bribery, but it don’t sound like a bad deal. When you think of it, they didn’t even ask as much of you than they demanded of the state in the criminal trial.”

  Rhyan didn’t try to keep the anger out of his voice. “Those two were responsible for two men dying before their time, one of them, even before he grew up. They’re lucky I didn’t blast them to kingdom come instead of running them off.”

  “Sure glad you didn’t, Mr. Cason. I’d of hated my last job to be hauling you in.”

  “Last job?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been reassigned. Tomorrow’s my last day.” Vaughn stuck out his hand. “Good luck with your case.”

  Rhyan took the marshal’s beefy hand. “Good luck with your new job.” He stood back as the lawman saddled up. Luck didn’t have anything to do with his case. He’d reach a settlement with the ranchers as soon as he found the gold.

  He pushed his hat lower on his head to shade his eyes. Carlos and the other men were almost here. A team of four mules pulled the wagon. They’d be used to drag the heavy timbers out of the cellar area—and he hoped—a treasure chest. He’d chased enough ideas down rabbit holes to know better than to pin all your hopes on one thing, but this was different somehow. It felt right.

  Men and horses worked hard all day, but they didn’t find a treasure chest or anything but a sewing box with a few rusted needles and an assortment of buttons. He hadn’t told the men exactly what he was looking for, just mementos of his grandparents, something to remember them by if he had to sell the land.

  To keep up the façade, he made a fuss over the sewing box and told them to sift through everything carefully as they hauled the dirt off to the side. Every square inch must be searched. If necessary, they’d dig up the area where an old barn had once stood.

  That wouldn’t happen today. The sun had sunk half way over the horizon, and twilight threatened within a half hour. Rhyan dismissed Carlos and his crew, but he was wont to leave, so he and Jake continued digging in the hole. Only one lantern lit the dusky environs.

  He glanced up to find darkness had fallen. “All right, that’s enough for tonight. We’ll get back on it at daybreak.”

  Jake let out a huff. “Not gonna argue with that.” He raised the pick he’d been yielding and slammed it into the earth in the corner. A sharp twang rent the air. “Did you hear that, boss?”

  Rhyan pushed him aside and started digging with his shovel until the top of something was revealed, something made of steel or iron, a flat rectangle maybe two feet long. Out of breath, he let Jake take over. They took turns until a large metal box took shape, looking for all the world like a safe.

  His pulse kicked up as he shucked his shirt and used it to clean away the dirt from the front. Jake lowered the lantern so they could get a better look. “I’ll be dogged. Looks like we found it. Recon there’s anything inside?”

  That was the question. It was a safe, identical to the one bolted into the basement wall at the ranch house. Would Grandpa have left anything out here? Any sane man would’ve removed valuables and stored them in the new safe. But Grandpa did have an odd streak in him.

  He gazed into the star-studded sky and rendered thanks. Sure, he’d resolved to put as much distance between himself and God as he could, but at this moment, he knew from whence came his help.

  “That was what you were looking for, wasn’t it?” Jake asked, leaning against what was left of the soddy’s wall.

  He hadn’t given Jake many details and had sworn him to secrecy. Every outlaw for a hundred miles would swoop down on them if they thought a pile of gold lay buried here. “I didn’t know what I was looking for, but it is a safe and locked.” Actually, it was rusted shut.

  “It’ll take a team to haul it out.” Jake walked off towards his horse.

  Rhyan followed. “Don’t think we’ll need to pull it out. In the morning I’ll go see Tom Amerson. He’ll be able to blast the door off with dynamite.” He slapped Jake on the back. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve missed supper, but Soulee can rustle up something.”

  Their horses pawed the ground, ready for supper too, and being fresh, ate up the ground to get home.

  The bracing night air set Rhyan to planning. If the safe contained gold, he’d settle with the ranchers, pay off all the bills, and maybe even—reexamine his faith. His thoughts flew to Carianne. It might work out after all. One miracle might lead to another.

  ***

  With nerves as tight as a violin’s strings, Carianne prepared baskets for Martha to take to the sick tomorrow. She’d asked Dorcas to let her know if there was any news from Sollano. As assistant to the postmaster, Dorcas knew what went on before anyone else.

  Carianne hadn’t expected to hear anything yesterday, but surely by today, if gold was to be found in the old soddy, it would have been. Unless Rhyan wanted to keep it secret. She could understand why he’d keep quiet. A decent amount of gold would even require armed guards during transportation.

  She ached to go straight to the ranch and find out for sure. Or to the Double Bar H. Colt and Emma would hear something before she would. Colt might even be helping dig up the soddy. Impatience surged. She wouldn’t see Colt until tomorrow night.

  Anxiety didn’t suit her. Everything in her wanted to light out and do something. She ought to be going with Martha, but had begged off. Why? So she could fidget like Henry the cat when he wanted to get outside to roam.

  No, she had a vested interest in Oliver Cason’s gold being found. In a way, she’d put her faith on the line, but that didn’t bother her. Her faith might be less than a mustard seed, but it held firm. The Spirit gave her perfect peace on that score. Still, she didn’t know what Rhyan would do when he found it, or even if he would find enough to save the ranch.

  A knock at the door startled her. Must be Martha come for the baskets. The post office had closed over an hour ago, and if Dorcas was going to stop by, she’d have already done so.

  As soon as she opened the door, Rachel fell in on her. “Carianne, you won’t believe what happened. You know what they found out on Sollano’s old soddy?”

  “Oliver Cason’s gold.”

  Rachel drew back, jaw dropping. “How did you know? Did that Dorcas get here before me?”

  Carianne laughed. “No. I had a hunch.” She grabbed Rachel and they danced around in a circle as if the gold belonged to them. But everybody in this town had a vested interest in saving Sollano. Every business and every farmer would suffer economically without the ranch.

  Out of breath, Carianne dragged Rachel to the sofa, though neither one of them sat. “Tell me. How much was found? What’s Rhyan going to do?”

  “I don’t know how much, but there were gold nuggets and coins. They say he’s going to settle with those ranchers, so there must be enough for that.”

  Carianne closed her eyes and sent thanks to the Lord. She held onto Rachel’s arms, wanting to jump into another jig.

  Rachel squeezed her arms and stepped back. “I better go. Luke’s waiting for me. But I had to stop and tell you. I know how much you love that ranch. Can you imagine that old curmudgeon doing something like that and not telling a soul?”

  Yes, she could imagine that. Had seen it in her mind’s eye.

  After Rachel left, Carianne took the baskets over to Martha’s and was promptly invited to dinner. She dined with the Amersons so often an invitation was hardly necessary. Colt would be joining them tomorrow for supper since he’d be helping Tom at the livery. She ought to cook for them one night, just to show Colt she could cook, but not tomorrow.

  Mart
ha told her Tom had gone out to the soddy and helped open the safe. She wanted to hear what Tom had to say.

  He had a lot to say as they sat around the table. Finding the gold had everyone excited. It was the biggest event to hit Westerfield since Senator Timmons’s murder.

  Tom waved a drumstick of Martha’s baked chicken at them. “Would you believe when that dynamite went off, it blasted so hard, one fellow who was holding a shovel slammed it into Rhyan chest.” He chuckled before sinking his teeth into the chicken leg.

  Both Carianne and Martha stared, waiting for him to chew and swallow. He laughed again. “I don’t think Rhyan even felt it. As soon as the door flew off we could see the gold.”

  “Oh, my heavens.” Martha got up to refresh their coffee cups. “I hope the poor boy’s all right.”

  Carianne clenched her cup a little tighter, listening intently to Tom’s reply.

  “Bound to be bruised, but he’s not letting that stop him. He sent the nuggets off under armed guards and deposited the coins in the bank. Got the accountant settling accounts and the lawyer working out details for the court settlement.”

  She relaxed. He wasn’t hurt badly, but she still wanted to go to him. See for herself. That wouldn’t be seemly, of course. But maybe he’d come to her, just to thank her for finding the book that led him to his grandfather’s gold. Again, she’d have to wait. The Lord was going out of His way teaching her patience.

  After helping Martha clean up after supper, she bid the Amersons good-night and covered the little path back to her house.

  Henry was waiting, ready to be let out. He darted through the door, and she closed it behind him. Silly cat could stay out all night. She wanted to study her Bible some before going to sleep. Besides, she had a very long prayer of thanks to deliver. Communing with God always calmed her nerves.

  After an hour of pouring over the Scriptures and prayer, her eyes grew heavy. Within ten minutes she was ready for bed, and sleep overtook her as soon as her head hit the pillow.

 

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