Morgan grabbed his canteen and took a long drink. Then he poured some water onto his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. It failed to cool his body completely, but it did help.
As he tied the canteen onto the saddle, Morgan heard hoof steps coming. Pushing all thoughts of Rilla bathing in the hot springs away, he mounted Condor and waited for her to appear. When she did, Morgan kicked Condor into a canter and preceded her back to the main trail.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MORGAN AND RILLA weren’t speaking when they rode into Cañon City. They’d been arguing for the last hour. Rilla wanted to enter town dressed as herself. Morgan wanted her to stay as Riley. Morgan had finally pulled rank on her, something he’d not done their entire trip. As the lead agent, he ordered her to stay dressed as the boy. On top of that, he’d threatened that he’d leave her in town as he went on and searched. With only two more clues, they were very close to, hopefully, finding the gold.
Morgan slowed and waited for Rilla, dressed as Riley, to move up beside him. She’d been trailing behind, pouting he was sure. It was a side of Rilla he hadn’t seen before. If keeping her safe wasn’t his main concern, Morgan would have thought it funny. There was nothing funny about finding gold and keeping it from the knowledge of others.
Morgan left what looked like a sulking teenage boy sitting on his horse as he went into the hotel and rented a room. They would make it their base of operation while they were in the area.
The livery was their next stop. Once they were taken care of, Morgan headed for the saloon. They could get food there as well as information of the area. His plan was for them to eat, he’d take Rilla back to the hotel, then return to the saloon hoping to get more information.
Rilla probably wasn’t going to like his plan but Morgan didn’t really care. With her along, even dressed as a boy, she was in danger in the saloon. Gunfights sometimes broke out over card or other games of chance. He wasn’t taking any chances by having her stay later in the evening.
“Howdy, partners. What can I get you?” the barkeep asked.
“I’ll have a beer, and the boy’ll have a sarsaparilla. What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Corned beef hash and boiled cabbage.”
“Sounds fine. We’ll have some.”
The barkeep waved a hand at one of the working girls and held up two fingers.
Rilla stood next to Morgan and leaned her elbows on the bar and huffed, “How’s come I can’t have a beer?”
Morgan shot a look at Rilla. She was the epitome of a sour-attitude teen. “You know the answer to that. I promised your ma, I’d not let you drink until you were older. And before you ask, I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
The barkeeper chuckled. “You sure you don’t want him to have a drink? Might put him to sleep and you’d be free of the sullenness for the night.”
“Naw, I promised his ma, before she died. Riley’s not in the best mood today. We’re going to eat and he’s going back to the hotel. Seems he might be needing some extra sleep or he won’t be going exploring with me tomorrow.”
“You going up the gorge?” The drinks were set on the bar in front of them.
“Thought we might. Could use some guidance as to what’s up there.” Morgan sipped his beer.
“Not much until you get to the gorge. It’s a mighty sight.”
“Any other places along the river?” Morgan nodded to the young woman who brought their meals.
“Depends on what you’re looking for.”
“We like to travel upstream on creeks we find,” Rilla interjected, then shoveled another bite of hash into her mouth. “We’ve found a bit of silver sometimes.”
“Hush, young’un,” Morgan said.
“Well, nearest creek is Grape Creek. Empties into the Arkansas River just out of town a ways. Never heard of any silver found in it but you can try.”
“We just might. If we find any, we’ll let you know. Who knows. Could be the next big strike.” Morgan chuckled and tapped Rilla on the shoulder. “You done?”
“Yea, Pa.” Rilla swallowed the last of the sarsaparilla in two big swallows.”
~~~~~
Rilla was still preening from Morgan’s praise of the evening before as they rode out of town in the morning. He hadn’t had to return to the saloon since they’d learned the name of the creek matched that of the clue. Wine water was Grape Creek. Now they just had to search along it until they found the place described in the rest of the clue, ‘Hole above fast four.’
They left Jack at the livery. They could make better time with only the horses. The creek was on the south side of the river, meandering through the low mountains. They crossed the creek several times as the cliffs seemed to alternate where they were close to the shore.
It was slow going as the terrain was rough. There were smaller streams filled with winter snow melt that would probably be dry later in the summer, but had to be crossed to proceed upstream.
Several hours into their ride, Morgan stopped and dismounted. “Let’s let the horses drink.”
Once Biddy was drinking her fill, Rilla looked around. Just upstream were a series of rapids. Scrub brush lined both edges and cliffs rose across the creek. Several dark spots on the cliff face indicated caves.
She looked upstream again and counted. “Morgan, I think we’ve found the place.” Rilla’s heart began beating fast. There were four fast running rapids, falling across rocks in the creek. The dark spots, holes, caves, were higher than the ground where they stood.
Morgan looked around and smiled at her, making her heart clench. “You may be right. Holes above fast four. You stay here, and I’ll go check them out.”
Her heart loosened with disappointment. “What? Why?”
“Well, first, those holes require some climbing.”
“Which I’m dressed for.” She put her hand on her hips.
“Those could be animal dens or be full of rattle snakes.”
“Oh, well, I’ll let you check them out first, just to be sure, but I want to be with you when you dig for the treasure chest.”
“Treasure chest, huh?” Morgan closed one eye. “Argh, so ye be thinkin’ it’s a pirate treasure, be ye?” The growled words made Rilla laugh.
“Just get yourself up to those holes in the cliff. I want to see if there is a chest of hidden gold coins.”
She watched as Morgan climbed to the first dark depression. His movements were sure, without hesitation. The thought that such a fine figure of a man was her husband flitted through her mind. She pushed it away. She didn’t want a husband. Didn’t want to lose her independence, become property again. She’d had enough of that with her father.
For some reason that made her just a little bit sad. Or maybe more than a little bit.
Morgan had moved to the second hole. There was a narrow ledge between the two. He looked in, crawled in, as it wasn’t very large, and came out waving at her to come. There was a smile on his face a mile wide.
“He must have found it,” Rilla mumbled as she hurried over the rocks to the cliff.
Morgan met her at the bottom. She found herself wrapped in strong arms, being hugged so hard her body lifted off the ground. “It’s there. Just a little ways back. Come, I’ll help you climb up. I didn’t really think we’d find it. I figured someone had found it before or that we never would. I can’t believe we did.”
Morgan’s excitement tickled Rilla. He’d never been so talkative before. At least, not like this.
The climb to the first hole was tricky. Small step ledges that needed her to hold onto other ledges to climb.
“Don’t mess with the first hole. It has a couple of rattlers in it. The day is cool enough that they won’t move if we don’t bother them.”
Rilla leaned away as she passed it. Fortunately, the climb eased then since the path up widened into a trail. Morgan kept his hand on her back, making sure she didn’t fall. When they got to the next hole, Rilla could see it was deeper than the previous one.
/> “This one is empty of critters. I checked that out first,” Morgan said. “There’s enough room for both of us. Crawl in.”
Rilla did as instructed. It truly was a cave. The opening was small, but the space widened and rose as she progressed. It wasn’t very deep, but enough so they could sit beside each other. A mound of rocks sat against the back wall. Several had been moved and revealed a crate.
“I uncovered the box, but knew you would want to be here when it’s opened.” Morgan crawled beside her.
“We need to remove more rocks before we can open it.” Rilla began pulling rocks from around the box. Morgan joined her.
“The lock’s been broken. They must have shot it open to get at the gold. We’ll see soon if it’s all gone,” Morgan said.
“Would they have buried it if it was empty?”
“We’ll see.” Morgan lifted the lid.
They sat speechless. Canvas bags filled the box with $20, $10, and $5 markings. On top were several open bags.
“Seems they took some before they stashed it here,” Morgan lifted one of the open bags. “I haven’t held sacks of coins before, but I’d say this one is a little light.”
“How are we going to get this back to town? It’s too heavy for us to carry. Besides, coming with this box is surely going to attract attention we don’t want.” Rilla picked up one of the full sacks marked with a $20. “Wow, this is heavy.”
“Those will be gold Double Eagles. The tens are Eagles and the fives are Half Eagles.” Morgan rubbed his chin. “Let’s take these open bags and as many as we can fit in our saddlebags. We’ll have to come back and get more tomorrow and each day until we have them all.”
“Sounds good. The ties for the sacks are here.” Rilla secured the three bags. “I’ll carry these down to where the trail is too hard for me to climb without my hands. Can you take them from there?”
“I can use one hand for climbing and one for carrying.”
“Wait. I have an idea,” Rilla said. “You have rope on your saddle. How about I go down and bring it back? You can tie sacks to the rope and lower it to me.”
“That sounds good, but I’ll go down with you. I don’t want you to slip.”
Again, Rilla’s heart clenched. Since she’d been a teen, no man had been so concerned with her safety. She’d been expected to ‘pull her weight’ even if the weight was too heavy for her. Morgan had been since the start of their journey. Her hand itched to cup his cheek and tell him, ‘thank you,’ but she didn’t want to imply more than she intended.
Morgan preceded her down to the cliff base, and soon he was climbing back up with the rope. They’d moved the horses so they could be easily loaded. Rilla filled her duster pockets with the contents of the saddlebags, making way for the bags of gold they were taking with them.
“Heads up.”
Rilla looked up to see Morgan lowering the rope with bags attached. She would never have been able to keep hold of them to send them down.
It wasn’t long before the saddlebags were full, and they were headed back to Cañon City. Both Rilla and Morgan trying to sober up so their joy at finding the gold wasn’t evident by the time they arrived.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“MORGAN,” RILLA SAID the evening of the day they found the cave, “do you have any ideas about how you want to get this to Denver?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t like the idea of riding all the way on the horses. It would take too long, and we’d have to unload Jack every night and load all the heavy gold in the morning. I don’t know if he’d be able to carry all of it as well as our other gear. The horses can carry some, but we’d have the same issue with them.”
“I have an idea, but it involves the train, some concealment on our, or at least, my person, and the use of disguises for both of us.”
Morgan lifted an eyebrow in interest.
“For concealing some of the coins, I can sew some muslin onto a petticoat, up around the hips. I would form little pockets to put coins in. I could make you a money belt to wear under your shirt. They would hold some so that if we run into trouble and some is stolen, at least we’d get some back to Denver.”
“Okay, what about the disguises?” Morgan wasn’t thrilled with any idea concerning disguises.
“I’d say, we go as someone totally different than who we are, even Riley. We’d be an older couple, wrinkles and gray hair. Maybe even an accent.”
Morgan thought about Rilla’s suggestion. Taking the train to Denver would be faster and safer. They’d have to change trains in Pueblo, but that was doable. Or they could ride to Pueblo and Rilla could change from Riley on the way. It was only about 20 miles. Even with the horses loaded with gold, they should be able to make it in a day. Two at the most.
There were also a few small stations along the way where they could catch the train. They could put on their disguises and board at any of those along the way. Especially, if he thought they were being followed.
“I’m not agreeing, but what would you need to make the money belt and pockets on your petticoat?”
“Just some muslin. I have needles and thread.”
“Let’s think about it overnight. We still have several days of bringing the gold to town.”
Rilla nodded, though he could tell she wanted him to agree. He’d work on other options on the way to Grape Creek tomorrow. Morgan really didn’t want to wear a disguise.
~~~~~
“Rilla, when we get back to town, you head over to the mercantile and get the muslin. We’ve talked about every way we can think of to get the gold back to Denver. It all boils down to either ride the horses and risk discovery along the trail, as well has hefting the gold on and off the horses everyday, or taking the train. The train seems like the better notion.”
“That’s what I thought too. I know you don’t like the thought of being in disguise, but it won’t be that bad. It won’t be that long either.”
They had just finished loading the horses on the second day. By the time they returned to Cañon City it would be early afternoon. They’d get some lunch at the café and Morgan planned to spend the rest of the afternoon grooming the horses. Rilla would get the muslin and begin stitching the money belts.
That Morgan agreed with her that the best way to get back to Denver was by train gave Rilla a confidence she hadn’t ever had before. She knew he wasn’t looking forward to wearing a costume, or rather be made up to look like an old man. That alone told her he respected her opinion. Few men had ever done so before.
Though she was tired from lifting bags of gold into saddlebags, Rilla sat just a little taller in the saddle.
~~~~~
Morgan and Rilla sat across from each other eating at the saloon the evening they had brought the last of the gold into town. Tomorrow they would ride out again just to keep up the pattern they’d established. Rilla was spending the afternoons and evenings, until it got too dark to sew, stitching.
Her petticoat was now lined with a length of muslin to mid-thigh. Row after row of tiny pockets were stitched with one coin in each. They’d decided to place the Eagles in her petticoat. In Morgan’s money belt, she sewed the Double Eagles. The garments were heavy, but tied and worn around the waist it would be easy to carry them.
The plan was to spend two more days, then ride from Cañon City to Pueblo. If they felt the need to they could catch the Atchison, Topeka, and Sante Fe railroad on the way to the Denver and Rio Grande line that went from Pueblo.
They were eating when a couple of men came to their table and sat down without asking. “Hear you’ve been spending a lot of time riding the gorge. Care to tell me why?”
The speaker had a grizzled red mustache that covered his entire mouth and a beard that reached down to his chest. The other man had about three days growth of scruffy black beard. Both men were dressed in grubby clothing that most likely hadn’t seen a wash tub in weeks if not months.
“Don’t see that it’s any of your business, but we’re just enjoying t
he natural wonders of the area.” Morgan set his fork down on his plate and leaned back in his chair. Rilla just kept eating. She didn’t even look at the men.
“I’m not entirely sure that’s all you’re doing.” Red Beard leaned forward with a scowl on his face. “I’m thinking you’re looking for something.”
Morgan saw Rilla’s eyes shift from one man to the other, keeping her head down as if focused on her food. Her right hand held her fork. Her left dropped under the table to where he knew she carried her Derringer.
“Have you seen us bringing anything back with us?” Morgan asked. He dropped his right hand, settling it on the grip of his Colt, releasing the hammer thong. If this situation went downhill, he wanted to be ready.
He knew Rilla was a good shot, at least close up. They’d done some shooting for practice along the way. Her Derringer was most effective at close range, and this was certainly close range.
“You only gone a few hours then come back. Pretty strange for roaming the countryside.” This time it was Scruffy speaking.
“Still no business of yours,” Morgan’s tone was flat.
Silence settled on the table as no one spoke. Morgan locked gazes with Red Beard. The chatter in the saloon died down as men became aware of the tension. The piano player stopped playing. Everyone came to a standstill.
Rilla broke the quiet by stabbing a piece of meat, sliding her fork across the plate, making a squeal of metal against china. The screech caused everyone to jerk. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking at Morgan then down at her plate.
Broken from the seeming paralysis of the moment, the piano player began a lively tune. The girls carrying plates and drinks began serving again. Everyone still kept an eye on the table where Morgan and Rilla sat.
“Don’t suppose it is. Just know, we’ve noticed your comings and goings. Looks pretty suspicious.” The men stood and walked to the bar, leaning their backs against it and staring at Morgan and Rilla.
“You finished eating, Riley?” Morgan asked.
An Agent for Rilla (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 32) Page 10
