Gordon Pawling had never packed his suitcase faster. He was going to marry Nessa Boyd, and he wasn’t about to let his son or her daughter stand in the way.
Unfortunately, he’d had to delay his flight until Saturday morning. His instinct had been to grab the first available plane out of Toronto, but he’d had several obligations to meet first. He was not a man who shirked his commitments, ever. Besides, he reminded himself, he had the rest of his life to spend with Nessa.
After booking his ticket for Texas, he phoned Miles. “Are you sitting down?” he asked his son.
“Why?” That reserved tone was back, as if Miles had already guessed he wasn’t going to like what he heard.
“I’m getting married.”
Gordon had fully expected Miles to rant and rage. Instead, his announcement was greeted with silence and then a calm “I see.”
“I’m leaving on Saturday morning for Texas.”
“When’s the wedding?” How civil he sounded, how cordial.
“As soon as I can arrange it,” Gordon answered.
“I’d like to fly down with you.”
Gordon debated the merits of that idea. His son’s intentions were questionable at best, but refusing could complicate an already rocky relationship. “All right,” Gordon agreed. “I’ll arrange for a second ticket.”
The flight proved to be rather pleasant. Gordon had half expected Miles to spend the time haranguing him with questions and accusations. But it would have done nothing to dissuade him, and apparently his son had accepted the inevitable.
Nessa was at the gate waiting for him when he stepped out of the jetway in San Antonio. The instant he caught sight of her, he experienced a surge of rightness, of certainty, that left him almost weak with relief. They hurried into each other’s arms.
“You must be Miles,” Nessa said to his son when they’d finished hugging.
Judging by the look on his face, Miles hadn’t expected a woman as lovely and charming as Nessa. Heaven only knew what type of woman his son had expected.
“I have a bit of news myself,” Nessa told him as they walked through the crowded airport toward the baggage claim area. “Sylvia’s arrived.”
“Sylvia is Nessa’s daughter,” Gordon explained to his son.
“She isn’t any more thrilled about this marriage than you are,” Nessa said, teasing Miles.
“There goes the elopement,” Gordon joked. He wrapped his arm around Nessa’s waist. It felt so damn good to be with her. He tightened his hold, signaling to Miles that he wouldn’t allow him or anyone else to interfere with their plans.
As predicted, Nessa’s daughter was waiting at her mother’s house in Promise. She whirled around when the door opened, as if she’d been pacing the living room.
“We’re back,” Nessa said cheerfully. Taking Gordon’s hand and clasping it firmly in her own, she looked directly at Sylvia. “This is Gordon Pawling. Gordon, this is my daughter, Sylvia Munson.”
“And who are you?” Sylvia asked, pointing at Miles.
“Sylvia, I won’t tolerate rudeness,” Nessa warned.
“Miles,” his son answered. “Miles Pawling.”
“My son,” Gordon added.
Sylvia ignored Gordon and crossed her arms defiantly. “I won’t stand for it.”
Unfortunately, Gordon thought, the poor girl had no choice in the matter since he and Nessa weren’t changing their minds.
“I’m no keener on this marriage than you are,” Miles said.
“All your father’s interested in is my mother’s money.”
“Sylvia!” Nessa cried, embarrassed and outraged. “How dare you say such a thing. Either you apologize or I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave my home.”
Sylvia seemed ready to burst into tears.
“I’ll have you know my father is considerably wealthier than your mother. If anyone’s interested in marrying for money, it’s your mother.”
“That’s insulting!” Sylvia cried, her hands on her hips. “Give me one good reason why there was a private detective prying into my mother’s financial records.”
“You made inquiries of your own, didn’t you?” Miles accused Nessa’s daughter. “But it didn’t do you any good, did it?”
“Oh, dear,” Nessa murmured, embarrassed beyond belief. She could only imagine what Sylvia had done. And, she thought with a flash of insight, that explained Gordon’s remark during that terrible phone call—about her having no room to talk.
“Would you two kindly stop sniping at each other?” Gordon had to yell to be heard above their arguing. Nessa was evidently upset and he’d had enough of this nonsense from Sylvia and Miles.
The doorbell rang, diverting everyone’s attention. The air was thick with hostility as Dovie walked in with a man who was obviously her husband. Frank Hennessey, the former sheriff. Dovie glanced from Nessa to Gordon to Sylvia.
“Thank heavens you’re here.” Sylvia threw up her hands. “Please talk some sense into my mother, would you?”
Gordon caught Dovie and Nessa exchanging a look. “I already did,” Dovie said.
Sylvia wore a puzzled frown.
“I advised her to marry Gordon,” Dovie went on.
“Aunt Dovie!” Sylvia wept. “How could you?”
“How could I?” Dovie repeated. “They’re in love.”
“I don’t like this, either,” Miles interjected.
“You’ll get used to it,” Dovie told him. “Just the way Sylvia and her brothers will.”
“You mean to say there are two more like her?” Miles muttered with ill-concealed distaste.
“You’re all about to become one big happy family.” This came from Frank Hennessey.
“You always claimed you didn’t want to be an only child,” Gordon reminded his son, with a light shrug.
“It’s a little late, don’t you think?” Miles shot back.
“It’s not too late,” Gordon said, smiling in Nessa’s direction. “Not too late at all.”
It seemed everyone in the room had an opinion—and they all chose to express them at once. Gordon found it impossible to listen anymore. He took Nessa by the hand and the two of them escaped into the kitchen and closed the door. Apparently no one noticed them leaving.
“It’s a miracle you’re willing to marry me,” he whispered, urging her into his arms.
She hugged him close, and Gordon experienced the full wonder of her love.
The doorbell rang a second time. “Let someone else answer that,” he said as his lips met hers.
They were deeply involved in the kiss when the kitchen door creaked open and Frank Hennessey entered the room. The arguing continued, voices growing increasingly louder.
“It’s Pastor McMillen,” Frank said. He extended his hand to Gordon. “I’m Frank Hennessey.”
“Gordon Pawling. Good to meet you.”
“Yeah, you, too. Want me to ask Wade to come back at a more convenient time?” Frank asked.
“Send him in,” Nessa said, glancing at Gordon for approval.
“By all means, send him in.”
The door opened again and Miles stuck his head into the kitchen. He began to say something, but Gordon cut him off. “Just remember that woman you’re arguing with is about to become your stepsister.”
Miles swallowed and closed his eyes. “God help us all.”
“He does young man, that He does,” Wade said, stepping around Miles.
Nessa introduced Gordon.
“I understand you two are interested in having me perform a wedding ceremony. Is that right?”
“Yes,” Nessa answered.
“Most definitely,” Gordon concurred. “And right now would be just fine.”
CHAPTER 23
Travis grinned at the people assembled before him, nachos and drinks forgotten. Ever since Val had sent word of her impending visit, something had been niggling at the back of his mind. Especially when he discovered that Richard was responsible for Val’s sudde
n interest in Promise and the ghost town.
Nell shared his suspicions, but it wasn’t until after they’d run into Jeannie and Adam at Bitter End that everything had started to come together. Travis wasn’t sure even now if his conclusions were correct, but he certainly had everyone’s attention. Either he was about to be labeled a hero a second time—or a world-class fool.
“You know something about that gold?” the sheriff asked, studying him from the other end of the booth.
“As soon as I heard about Richard’s interest in the town, I suspected it had to be for one of two reasons. He left something of value in Promise or he found something he doesn’t want anyone else to know about. Otherwise he wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn about Bitter End.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, except Val, who gave an unladylike snicker. “I sincerely doubt that.”
“So you think Richard found the gold?” Jeannie asked. “What gave you that idea?”
“When you told us the story of One-Eyed Jack, I decided to do a bit of research.”
“Hold on,” Val, said, raising both hands. “As far as I’m concerned, this is utterly ridiculous.”
“If you’d hear me out—”
“You people are so quick to blame Richard Weston for every crime that’s ever been committed around here, you’re willing to charge him with a robbery that happened well over a century ago?” She rolled her eyes.
“No,” Travis said patiently. “I’m just saying I believe Richard found the stash when he was rooting around the town—and that’s what he wants now. It’s why he sent you to snoop, Val.”
“Oh, for…” she sputtered. “This is so ridiculous.”
“You don’t know Richard,” Grady insisted, his voice dark.
“If this wasn’t so crazy, it’d be sad,” Val said under her breath.
“Is anyone interested in hearing what I found out?”
“I am,” Jeannie told him.
“Me, too,” Adam said.
“Okay,” Travis began. “Do you know if anyone ever learned the name of the man who hanged the preacher’s son?”
“The preacher’s what?” Val demanded.
“That’s what the mystery was all about,” Jeannie explained. “At one time Bitter End had a thriving population, and then a group of rowdy drunken men hanged the preacher’s son because he defended a saloon girl. When his father returned and found his son murdered, he stood at the end of the street by the church, opened his Bible and swore that God would bring vengeance upon the town.”
“After that,” Travis said, “Bitter End was cursed with a variety of plagues.”
Val was laughing at them. “In Biblical proportions, no doubt. Cecil B. DeMille all over again, right?”
“Whatever happened—and why—we can’t say for sure,” Grady told her, undaunted by Val’s sarcasm. “We do know that shortly afterward, grasshoppers came through the area and destroyed the crops.”
“Something happened to the water supply, as well,” Travis said. “We know all of this from pieces of a story quilt that several of Promise’s founding families passed down from one generation to the next.”
“It was Travis and Nell who managed to figure out what those quilt squares meant.”
Val turned to him. “You’re basing all this on a quilt?” She sounded incredulous. “Travis, your imagination is more creative than I’d realized.”
He ignored her insulting words. “It was what Nell and I discovered in the graveyard that made everything clear,” he said.
“And what, pray tell, was that?” Val asked in a long-suffering tone.
“The grave markers revealed that a number of children had all died within a short time span. Whether or not the curse was real, we’re not here to say, but the citizens of Bitter End began to believe they were cursed. They’d remained in the town, withstood one hardship after another. Hung on no matter what until…”
“Until what?” Val asked.
“Until the children started to die,” Jeannie said quietly.
“This is all extremely interesting, but I still don’t know how it’s supposed to tie in with Richard.” Val folded her arms defensively. “I realize he hid from the law up in Bitter End, but this seems a stretch even for you, Travis. You haven’t established a link between the town and that stolen gold shipment, let alone between Richard and the gold.”
“Tell us what you found out,” Jeannie said.
“I will in a moment,” Travis replied without emotion, “but I’ll repeat my earlier question first. What was the name of the man responsible for the hanging?”
“I don’t follow you,” Grady said.
“All this time we’ve assumed a few men in town had too much to drink and got carried away.” Travis looked around the table and saw Adam, Grady and Jeannie nod their heads in agreement.
“Are you suggesting it wasn’t the locals?” Jeannie asked.
Travis shrugged. “Oh, I think a few men from Promise were involved. When I researched Jeannie’s story about One-Eyed Jack and that Union payroll, I discovered that the date of the robbery was only a week or so before the hanging.” He paused, glancing around. “The men and women who settled the town were hardworking decent folks, not unlike the people here today. From what I could learn, there hadn’t been a lot of trouble in Bitter End. My guess is that One-Eyed Jack and his band of renegades were on the run and stopped in the town.”
“You can’t prove that!” Val cried.
“True, but it all adds up.” He grinned. “Perhaps it’s my creative imagination, Val. I’m a writer, so I tend to look for endings. I want to see how the story comes out.”
“I think you’re right about something else, too,” Adam added as though thinking out loud. “The people in Bitter End weren’t murderers. Someone must have driven them into a frenzy to hang that innocent young man.”
“If it was One-Eyed Jack’s men, you think they had the gold with them?” Grady asked.
“I’m guessing they did.”
Val shook her head. “And now you’re suggesting Richard Weston found the gold and hid it somewhere in the town?”
“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Travis said.
Grady nodded. “And I know for a fact that Richard came to Promise with nothing.”
Travis remembered that when he’d first met Richard, the man had fed him a crazy story about the town and its background to pique his interest. He’d relayed only a few details—all of which proved to be untrue—in an effort to get Travis to pay him for more information. Travis had refused, and the two men hadn’t been in touch since. In an effort to discover whether there was any truth to Richard’s outrageous claims, Travis had flown to Texas…and met Nell.
“This is beyond belief!” Val shouted.
“But where could he have hidden it?” Travis continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“There are no gold coins in Bitter End,” Val said, “and if there were, don’t you think Richard would have mentioned them to me?”
“Why should he?” Travis asked.
“Well…because. I’ve befriended him. For the past couple of years I’ve put countless hours into his defense without a penny’s compensation. Trust me, if he had access to that kind of money, he would have told me about it.”
Grady’s eyes went cold. “It’s time you woke up and realized the truth about Richard. You don’t know what he’s like.”
“You’re the one who doesn’t know Richard,” Val snapped at Grady.
He shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid you’re about to learn a painful lesson.”
“Fine,” Val said defiantly. “If you actually believe such a preposterous idea, then I suggest we all go out to Bitter End and look for this gold ourselves.”
Travis watched as everyone around the table nodded in turn. While Adam paid the bill, Grady, Travis and Val headed outside and got into Grady’s truck. Adam and Jeannie followed them in the patrol car.
Travis admitted that the idea of Richard’s havi
ng found something in Bitter End was mere speculation, but the more he thought about it, the more he believed he was right. And even if it wasn’t One-Eyed Jack’s stolen gold, Travis was absolutely certain that Weston’s interest in the ghost town wasn’t altruistic.
Once they’d parked on the hill above Bitter End, they all made the arduous trek down the steep grade that led into the old town. They stopped at the outskirts, unsure where to start the search.
“Well,” Val challenged, hands on her hips, “show me the gold.” She rolled her eyes as though she found this entire episode ludicrous.
“You’re in love with Richard, aren’t you?” Jeannie asked suddenly.
Val ignored the question for a moment, meeting the other woman’s look defiantly. “Let’s put it like this,” she finally said. “I believe that if Richard had found a strongbox of gold, he would have said something. He wouldn’t keep it from me. You see, Richard and I trust each other. We’ve come through a lot together. There are no secrets between us.”
“Not unless he plans to dump you the minute he’s free,” Grady suggested without malice.
“I’ve heard enough of this craziness.” Val started to walk away. “Tell me when you’re finished with this wild-goose chase.” Having said that, she stalked over to the rocking chair outside the boarded-up hotel.
“The hotel,” Grady said triumphantly, pointing at it. “That’s where Jane and Cal found Richard. The stairway collapsed on him and he’d been trapped for nearly three days.”
“You’ve got the story all wrong, but I’m not going to argue with you,” Val told them.
“But he wasn’t sleeping there,” Grady said, paying no attention to Val.
“That’s true.” Travis remembered that Richard had set up house in one of the other buildings, a stone structure that wasn’t likely to topple in a strong wind.
“Yet he risked his life to climb those rickety old stairs,” Grady said thoughtfully. “At the time I wondered what could have possessed him to take such a foolish chance. He had to know just by looking at them how dangerous they were.”
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