Too Far Down

by Mary Connealy

  “A lot of old ranchers limp, Doc. I’ve got kids at home who need my help.”

  The doctor’s mouth thinned with annoyance. “Well, unless you think of something, you’re stuck here for the week it’ll take me to find nursing care for Mrs. Finn.” He dropped his voice and looked past Ronnie toward the room Bridget was in with her son. “She’s in far more fragile shape than I let on. She’s going to need care for a long while yet in order to regain full health.”

  “She doesn’t need to regain full health, Doc,” Chance said. “And we wouldn’t have to wait a week if she’s up to traveling. I hope she’ll agree to come along with us. We’d like to take her and Finn home with us. If we left now, would she survive the trip?”

  “Not in the shape she’s in now, no. You just can’t put her through it.”

  “I rode up here on a train with my leg broken. I survived it.”

  “And it’s a wonder you did. You were badly injured, yes, but you were a strong man in otherwise good health. She’s just stepped back from the brink of death, and she might still teeter over the edge if we’re not careful.”

  Chance looked at Ronnie. She almost shouted at both of them because the delay was maddening. Instead she clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

  “Good then. Now, Chance, let me examine your leg and see what changes I can make in your exercises to strengthen it.”

  “Before we do that, are you sure no one followed you here?” Chance asked. They’d gone to great lengths to keep their distance from the doctor.

  “You’ve warned me, and Finn especially has warned me and given me advice about watching for someone. I’ve been careful not to invite any undue danger.” The doctor smiled.

  A chill ran up Ronnie’s spine. From his tone, she could tell he wasn’t taking their warnings seriously. They knew for a fact that the people after the Bodens had come this far north before. There was every reason to fear a second attack.

  Ronnie watched them go to the chairs that sat facing the kitchen fireplace. Chance had had his cast off now for a while, with most of the stiffness worked out of his leg. But even though her husband wasn’t one to make a fuss, she could see he was in pain. He tired easily and struggled when he had to stand for long stretches of time.

  Ronnie went to the stove and skimmed some broth off the pot of vegetable beef soup she had prepared for supper. If there was a way he could be better, she wanted that for him. She’d held out and nagged him into staying so the doctor could treat him. If Chance had his way they’d have gone home before the cast came off.

  But reading that garbled note had brought back some bad memories. Though she still didn’t understand all of it, she remembered Don de Val and his wife. Ma and Pa had kept her away from them all her life. She’d met them only a handful of times and always with Ma or Pa close at hand.

  The old Don was a cad with women. Ronnie’s ma was dead and gone before Ronnie was grown, yet her pa had made it clear he didn’t want the Don to see her, let alone be near her or, God forbid, ever for a second be alone with her.

  The Don’s leering eyes had landed on her once when she was sixteen. She hadn’t been in his presence for years when they’d met on the trail, his gaze traveling up and down her body. The look had chilled her to the marrow of her bones.

  If anything, Pa loathed Señora de Val even more. He’d sounded as if he was joking when he spoke of her, but under the humor, Ronnie could see it would be best never to have dealings with Lauressa. In fact, if she ever saw her coming, Ronnie oughta hunt a hole and wait for the woman to pass by.

  Lauressa de Val.

  Ronnie hadn’t thought of her in years until she’d seen her name on the note.

  A stunningly beautiful woman, Ronnie remembered that much. Black hair and dark eyes that flashed with a strange, hard light. She was much younger than her awful husband and spent her life primping and dressing herself in fine gowns. Her daughter had also been lavished with expensive finery.

  When Ronnie saw the name Lauressa, the gnawing need to get home and protect her children, just as her father once protected her, had grown into a battle. Until then, she’d been the only one stopping Chance from ignoring the doctor’s orders and returning home. Now that was in the past. Her wish for her husband’s healing was overridden by her fear for her children. She needed to get home, only now she couldn’t. A woman’s life was at stake.

  She didn’t say anything. She was too busy biting her tongue.

  Like a spider spinning its web, Hattie lifted her hand from the paper, admiring the spider’s scrawl of her coded handwriting. It delighted her to torment those who must obey her.

  Their fear delighted her.

  She folded and sealed the letter, then laid it on a silver salver. Tohu picked it up, careful not to touch it while her hand was near.

  “Send it to Santa Fe as always, Tohu.”

  The man nodded. Her personal guard, her sole trusted servant.

  Hattie eased back in her chair and took a moment to think through all her plans. Some that had been thwarted, others that succeeded well. It was with relish that she enjoyed the freedom, finally, to do all she’d wanted. Finally she could avenge herself.

  “The carriage is ready,” Tohu said, holding open the door.

  At last she could go back home. No one had questioned her heritage after all these years. She’d made the perfect exiled Spanish Countess Lauressa. But she knew it for the lie it was. She’d acted her part well and outlived the foul man she’d married, eager to have his wealth for herself. Then she’d found he’d betrayed her one final time.

  A prickle of fear quickened her regal step. No one need know she wouldn’t return, most especially her creditors. Oh, there would be money enough once she got away from here. But she had no intention of giving any of it to her creditors. She had need of it.

  She paused at a mirror before leaving this office for the last time. It had been simplicity itself to fool everyone. Her coloring was perfect, and no one who knew what she’d done ever denied her talent. She ran a hand under her chin, still quite firm, touched lightly at the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and noted the gray streaks in her hair. She’d aged but had many years left. Of course, she’d been a near child bride to a rich old man.

  She’d spent a lifetime pampering herself, preserving her looks so well there were those who whispered she’d made a deal with the devil for eternal youth and beauty.

  Her age was a mystery, along with everything else about her. While she had fooled people all her life, she’d grown tired of it. She’d rather wield power boldly than use her sly talent. She had far less help than she’d hoped. Word had reached her about Dantalion’s death. Her old friend, gone. Then came the news of Watts, who’d been captured.

  Without Dantalion, well, she would have sent Tohu to take charge, but her need to leave was great. Yes, there was money here, and every time she thought about it, fury nearly overwhelmed her.

  The anger washed through her now. She fought for control, sorry for still looking in the mirror. It made every year show on her face. Her hands fisted until her nails cut into her palms. Her jaw clenched to stop her from screaming. She stood alone in the majestic entryway. She’d called this despicable place home for almost thirty years. Oh yes, there was money, but she couldn’t touch it—her old fool of a husband had been very careful with his legal wrangling. It made her want to tear someone’s heart out.

  Finally the rage eased, leaving her head and heart pounding. But she could move now without reaching for someone’s throat. She could speak without screaming.

  What she had done at least kept anyone else from getting the money, and that gave her satisfaction.

  Time would pass. She’d find a way to get around the secretly written will that was a sop to a horrid man’s legacy of unfaithfulness. Maybe he thought his generosity after death would protect him from everlasting punishment.

  Ha!

  For now, she had to leave the money. She had to finish what she’d started.
>
  That was fine because she was beyond trusting others with her mission. Leaving suited her, even if it was a step ahead of her creditors. She would now handle this herself. Once done, she’d be home where there was vast wealth waiting for her, beyond what she’d cheated out of the Bradfords over the years.

  Then she’d settle into a comfortable home—also something she planned to take for her own. A home she’d always despised for the arrogance and the way the Bodens had flaunted their oh-so-perfect family while Hattie had to endure the unwelcome touch of her betrayer husband.

  20

  “I think the gold is played out.” Mel dropped her pickax in disgust.

  “You’re just spoiled because you found the first batch so quick. Now you think it all oughta be that easy.”

  Mel shrugged. “I wonder what Pa’s doing right now. It’s time to get the cattle to a fresh pasture. I hope he wasn’t too shorthanded to get the herd moved.”

  “No, you can’t go home and spend a day working with your pa.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to do that.”

  Uncle Walt snorted. “You’re the one who wanted to be a miner.” He barely missed a swing with his ax as he goaded her. “Well, you’re here now, so get to mining.”

  Mel tried to think of some other excuse to get them out of here. They’d been chiseling for days, and she was more than bored, fed up with spending hours in this dark hole.

  She leaned her shoulder against the wall of the stupid pit. The rock shifted beneath her weight. She quickly jerked away, staring at the wall. “What . . . ?”

  “What happened?” Walt asked.

  Mel aimed her head lamp at the rock. She was a long time studying it. Was it another boulder all ready to come down? At least finding gold was more fun than chiseling and hacking with the ax for nothing.

  She stepped right up to the rock wall. “See that?” She pointed to a crack, then let her finger slide down all the way to the floor of the pit, then back up to about the level of her neck and across. “Looks like a . . . a door of some kind.”

  Walt walked around Mel, and she saw his eyes follow the crack all the way to the floor in a rough but straight line.

  “What could it be?” she asked while using her ax to pry at the jagged crack in the rock.

  Walt pressed on the slab in a different place from where Mel had leaned but with no result. “It’s not moving. The slab or door, or whatever it is, is too heavy.” He turned to her. “I’ve never been much interested in gold, but I love a mystery. And this here is a good one. Climb up and fetch Cole, Heath, or Justin, but no one else. We’re gonna need their help with this.”

  “That means the man who owned the lease on this mine needed help too, doesn’t it?”

  After a moment of silence, Walt said, “I wonder who all was involved . . . because those men who died, someone’s behind the killin’ of ’em. And I really wonder what’s behind this door?”

  “Maybe it’s a tunnel we can follow that’ll help us figure out who the killer is.” Mel rushed over to the ladder and started climbing.

  Cole looked up, startled, when Mel burst into his office building. He and Murray had settled back in to regular work, most of the time. Cole still kept a few things from his assistant, and he still had some questions that’d never been answered.

  “What is it?” He rose from his desk. He’d been working in his shirtsleeves. Tugging on his suit coat and straightening his tie, he came around the desk toward her. “Something scared you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just found something and want to show you.”

  Cole glanced at Murray, who was watching them through the door of Cole’s office that Mel had left wide open. He didn’t hesitate in getting away from the man before Mel told him any more. He moved to follow her outside. “Keep at it until you’re beat, Murray. Whatever’s left we can finish later.” Cole went without giving his assistant a backward glance.

  “Is Heath here? Or Justin?” Mel was striding toward the slope that led to the mines.

  Cole picked up his pace to catch up with her. Looking around to make sure no one could hear them, he caught her by the arm. “Heath is. He’s helping clear out the collapsed mine. Do we need him?”

  “Maybe you’d better just come for now. We might need more help, but we can decide that later.”

  “What’s going on? Did you strike it rich again?”

  Mel finally looked at him but without slowing her walking. She smiled. “Nope. I doubt it’s that easy or more folks would do it. We found . . .” She glanced behind them, to her left and right, and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “We found a door, I reckon. That’s my best guess. A hidden door at the bottom of the mine I leased.”

  “A door?”

  “Yep, or some such thing, down in the pit. Uncle Walt and I couldn’t open it or even budge it. The wall’s all chiseled up, but still I noticed a crack that follows the outline of a door. I found it by chance mostly. So my uncle and I need your help to see if we can maybe open it. We think what’s behind there could lead us to a few answers.”

  Cole nodded, and soon he and Mel were climbing down the ladder into an unusually bright light below.

  It turned out that Walt had found some extra lanterns and was working on a section of the wall. After filling in Cole on the progress he’d made, Walt said, “I got the door to move a little.” He stopped and pointed. “You see this fine crack right here?”

  Cole stepped over to get a better look. Mel came up close behind him . . . too close. Suddenly he was having trouble paying attention to Walt. Giving his head a mental shake, he focused once more on the tiny crack. “That might not mean a thing. If the rock got loosened, it’ll give a bit. Maybe it’s just another slab like what broke off last time.”

  “Watch this.” Walt pressed on a spot at about shoulder level and the crack widened. It narrowed again when he pulled back.

  Cole took a half step back. “The crack goes all the way up?”

  “Yep, about neck-high; then it crosses over and back down. I don’t know how we open it up, but I got a strong feeling we need to. Someone went to a lot of trouble to conceal something, and I have to ask: what did they need to hide so badly?”

  Cole looked at Walt Blake, who had fire in his eyes. Which made Cole mighty curious, too. “And you hoped I could help you open this wall?”

  “I’ll bet my best pair of boots it’s a real door and it opens somehow. There’s probably a trick to it, might even swing on a hinge based on how the crack got wider when I leaned against it. If we can’t find an easy way to open it, then we’ll just have to do it the hard way—swinging a pickax.”

  “Considering the gold I found,” Mel said, “I wonder if there’d been a bigger strike down here, and the man you had leasing it went to great lengths to keep it a secret. We talked about him slipping out with a saddlebag of gold from time to time, which maybe he took to Denver to stow in a bank. Or he could’ve buried it in the mountains somewhere. But what if he found a way to hide it right down here?”

  Cole turned back to the door, or whatever it was. “I have a hard time believing someone built a hiding place with a stone door, with a secret hidden lever or something.”

  “That certainly would take time and a fair amount of skill.” Walt crouched and studied the crack near the bottom, focusing his head lamp on it and holding his lantern close at the same time. “But that rock came off clean in a slab the other day. Some rock cracks all the way through, and this reminds me of that slab.”

  Mel ran her fingers down the seam. She stood on Cole’s right, with Walt hunkered down on his left. They were packed together, examining the door inch by inch.

  Mel was pressing with her fingertips when suddenly she flattened her hand and held it just off the stone’s surface. “I think there’s a tiny stream of air coming through here.”

  Cole extended his hand next to hers. “I feel it, too.”

  Walt stood and leaned his back against the secret door. “What wo
uld be behind this wall, Cole?”

  He shook his head slowly. “All I can think of is more rock. This pit wasn’t even here when we started mining here. No one struck an old burial or ancient cavern or secret tunnel because there was no one around—no holes, no digging, nothing before the gold strike began. Pa and Justin and I used to ride over here. This place marks the far reaches of Pa’s land grant, and he knew every bit of it like he knew his own face. I’m telling you, there was nothing.”

  Walt was silent for a while, not paying much attention to their door. Finally he said, “I’ll bet you’d’ve sworn there was nothing on top of Skull Mesa neither, and yet there was an ancient village up there. I’ve heard of native folks who lived on cliff sides as well, who built their homes into caves that they could get to only by climbing ladders. Who knows what’s hidden in these mountains.”

  “What do you suspect, then?” Cole asked.

  “I’m wondering if your miner didn’t break through into a whole other cave down here, a chamber of some kind.”

  Cole scanned the mine’s walls. “Well, it’s been chiseled plenty, that’s for sure.” He ran his hand over the numerous gouge marks, the exact kind of marks that covered all the walls in these caves, marks left by the pickax. They helped to conceal the seam in the wall with the so-called secret door.

  “So far we can’t find any kind of lever,” Walt said, “so instead let’s turn this wall into a pile of rubble until we can see what’s behind it.”

  With arched brows and a smile, Cole said, “Sounds like the most commonsense idea any of us have had yet. And if it’s really just a slab of rock, we won’t have to chisel long to break through it.” He grabbed an ax and approached the wall. “Now stay back. I’m not going easy here to tease out a fine vein of gold.”

  Mel and Walt both stepped back. Cole noticed Mel went to a wall a few yards away, well out of distance, and picked up her own ax. She began chipping away at a different section. Maybe that was where she’d found her gold, or maybe she was just a hardworking woman who couldn’t stand being idle for too long.