“I’ll do mine myself,” Brad said. “Emily?”
“I’ll unpack, but I will need an iron and an ironing board.”
“I’ll take whatever you need ironed down to my suite and do it. I’m sure that’s what Mr. Douglas would want.”
Emily had no idea what it was like to be waited on. She accepted the offer. She didn’t know how busy she and Brad were going to be after their conference with Caleb.
“If there’s anything else you need,” Tess advised them, “just use the intercom. Press the button for room three. If I don’t answer there, dial in the number on the pad by the phone. Just call that and my pager will beep.”
While Emily was trying to absorb that, the housekeeper took another long look at Brad. “Mr. Douglas said that you were a private investigator.”
“Yes, I am.”
Emily thought the housekeeper was going to say more, but then she just gave them a tight smile and repeated, “Like I said, just buzz me if you need me. My rooms are behind the kitchen, so I’m always around.”
Then she left Emily’s room through the door into the hall.
“I’ll get your suitcase for you.” At the bathroom Brad stopped. “Are you sure this setup is fine with you?”
“Yes, it’s fine with me.”
“If you’d feel more comfortable about it, you can lock your door into the bathroom at night.”
Then he went into the other bedroom, leaving Emily to wonder whether he was just being considerate of her feelings or if he was telling her they wouldn’t be sleeping together again.
Chapter Five
Emily sat in Caleb Douglas’s study in a tan leather chair, taking notes on her laptop. Every once in a while when there was a lull in Brad and Caleb’s conversation, she admired the western sculptures sitting about—the cowhand on a horse, the cowboy on a bucking bronc—as well as the charcoal sketches of rodeo scenes hanging on the walls along with elk antlers.
After Brad’s parting comment about keeping her door locked, he’d told her he’d go downstairs until she finished showering and then he’d take his. He’d wanted to get the lay of the land. Later, while she’d dressed, she’d heard him in the shower and remembered his musculature in the light of the fire.
She also remembered his strength and power as he’d made love to her.
“Emily, did you get that?”
Brought back to the present with a jolt, she realized Brad was speaking to her. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat what you said?”
He gave her an odd look. “The gold mine and the mineral rights to it were owned by Amos Douglas, Caleb’s grandfather. He supposedly won the property in a card game.”
“I thought the deed was in my safety-deposit box along with all the other deeds, but it wasn’t,” Caleb explained.
“Could another descendant of Amos Douglas have it?”
“I’m the last one. Riley has checked through all his papers, though he says he’s never seen it.”
“And you hired a lawyer to do a title search?”
“I hired an attorney in town. He found there’s simply no record anywhere. I do have this, though.” Caleb stood, went into the room adjoining the den, which Emily supposed was his study, and returned with an envelope. He handed it to Brad.
As Brad opened the envelope, Caleb warned, “Be careful. It’s old.”
Emily watched while Brad drew out a yellowed half sheet of paper.
“What is it?” she asked, more out of curiosity than for her notes.
“It looks like a promissory note. Someone owed Amos Douglas. Whoever it was agreed to pay Amos back twenty-five dollars a month. If the borrower missed a payment, the deed to this section of land…” He stopped and looked up at Caleb.
“That’s the land where the gold mine’s located,” Caleb offered.
Brad continued, “The deed to this section of land plus the mineral rights would revert to Amos Douglas.”
“Who signed it?” Emily asked.
“That’s the problem.” Brad ran his fingers along the edge of the paper. “I don’t think this is torn, but it looks like the paper separated from the fold. It’s over a hundred years old. No wonder.” Brad looked up at Caleb again. “Do you think your great-grandfather foreclosed on this property?”
“It’s not only possible, but likely. My father told me Amos was a shrewd businessman.”
“Are there rumors about who this person was he foreclosed on? Where I’d have a place to start?”
“No rumors about the note.”
“Searching the archives in town is probably the best place to start,” Brad concluded. “Emily and I will head over there this afternoon.”
“I also heard there’s a reporter who’s been asking questions,” Caleb said.
“About the mine?”
Caleb looked discomfited. “This whole gold-rush thing has gotten bigger than anyone expected. A paper hired this reporter to do a story. I called him yesterday but he said he hasn’t turned up the ownership. He wouldn’t say much else. There was a baby crying in the background so it might have been a bad time. Maybe you can get more out of him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Mark Anderson.”
“I’ll call him today and set up an appointment.” Brad stood and asked Emily, “Can you be ready to go over to the town hall in about ten minutes? I’d like to get there before it closes.”
“Sure. Are you going to call Mr. Anderson?”
“Hopefully I’ll catch him in.”
Caleb handed Brad a scrap of paper. “There’s his number. I hope you can figure out this whole mess. I know that land belongs to our family.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Emily knew if anyone could get to the bottom of it, Brad could. When he was determined, he went after his goal, and heaven help anyone in his path.
From the street, Emily lifted her camera and snapped a photo of the town hall. As she and Brad walked up to the double doors, he said to her, “This could have waited until tomorrow if you’re tired.” She’d been very quiet since their meeting with Caleb.
“I’m fine.”
He opened one of the doors for her. It was wood and heavy and it creaked.
Stepping over the threshold, she almost felt as if she was walking into the past. “This is one of Thunder Canyon’s original buildings,” Brad explained, then glanced at her because she didn’t respond. “Are you thinking about our meeting with Caleb? Or are you thinking about our stay at the cabin?”
As they walked deeper into the reception area, they spotted a woman seated at a rough-hewn wooden desk.
“Both, I guess,” Emily murmured, wishing he hadn’t begun this conversation here. He must have felt the same because his look told her they’d finish later.
Crossing to the desk, he nodded toward the name-plate—Rhonda Culpepper.
“Are you Ms. Culpepper?”
“Sure am. Can I help you?” she asked in a chipper tone.
“I hope you can help us,” Brad returned with a smile. “I’m looking for the archives room.”
Rhonda’s face took on a perplexed look. “Why ever would you want to go down there?”
“It’s in the basement?” Emily asked.
“Sure is, and everything smells musty. It’s much older than I am,” she added with a little laugh, then went on, “but I’m afraid you can’t go down there. The room’s always locked. There are original documents, you understand. We can’t have people just poking in them. Our last archivist was making sure all the information was put into computers.”
“Your last archivist?”
“Yes, Saul Rindos. He went to college to be a historian, then couldn’t find a job. So we hired him. But fortunately for him and unfortunately for us, a few weeks ago he found a position in a museum—on the East Coast, mind you.”
“Who’s in charge of the room now?” Emily asked.
“Well, nobody exactly. I guess Mayor Brookhurst, if it comes right down to it. He has the key
. He won’t let anyone in there until we have an archivist. We have a new one coming—Harvey Watson. He’s due in about mid-June.”
“I think the mayor will let us in,” Brad said to Emily.
“Oh, no,” Rhonda protested. “I’m afraid he won’t. Not right now, anyway. First of all, he won’t let anybody in that room without an archivist present, not even just to look. He’s paranoid about it and the history of this town. But on top of all that, he’s taking his vacation. Went somewhere in Wyoming to see a friend, I think. Anyway, he’s got the key and won’t be back until the middle of the month. He has to be back for Caleb Douglas’s groundbreaking ceremony for his ski resort.”
“When’s that?” Emily asked.
“May twenty-third, I believe. We have quite a reception planned afterward. Maybe you two can come?”
“I’m hoping we’ll be finished our work here by then,” Brad remarked. “Did the mayor leave a number where he could be reached?”
“He and his friend are doing some traveling. From what I understand, he wants nothing to do with phones or contact from us until he returns. Said he gets hassled enough here. Doesn’t want to contend with it on his vacation. You can’t blame him.”
“You said the archivist was entering information into the computer. Any idea if he did it in a particular order?”
“Well, that’s another of our problems,” she confided. “The archives have always been stored in the basement. Years ago, back in the late eighteen hundreds I think, there was a fire. We lost many of the ledgers. Just a while back, when we didn’t have an archivist, we had flooding. Boxes were emptied, material was shifted around. So to answer your question, I doubt if anything is in much order. That’s why we need another archivist to continue the work of the last one.”
Moving his hand across his forehead, Brad said patiently, “Thank you for your help. Who might the mayor report to if he does call in?”
“He has a sister, Elma Rogers. Her number’s in the phone book.”
“Do you mind if I mention your name to her?”
“Of course not, go ahead. In fact, I’ll give her a call tonight to tell her you’ll be talking to her. That way she’ll know you’re not trying to sell her something.”
With the reassurance that the mayor’s sister was indeed a very nice lady, Rhonda bid them a good evening.
Outside, Brad and Emily looked at each other and smiled.
“She was helpful,” Emily insisted.
“As far as it went. I could use some real help. I made an appointment with Mark Anderson for tomorrow afternoon. He said he and his wife have a new baby and she usually sleeps in the afternoons.”
At the mention of the word baby, Emily’s face clouded. It seemed there were so many land mines where they were concerned.
Instead of dwelling on that, Brad suggested, “Let’s walk down to that western-wear shop. I want to buy you a coat so you won’t freeze while we’re here.”
“I’m not going to let you buy me a coat.”
If he said she should consider it part of her bonus, he had a feeling he’d be in trouble. If he said he wouldn’t miss the money, he knew he’d be in just as much trouble. So he said, “I want you to charge it to my expense account. If you hadn’t come to Montana, you wouldn’t need it.”
Her nose wrinkled as she thought about the logic in that. “What about you?” she asked.
He was wearing his denim jacket. “I brought a couple of flannel shirts, so I’ll be fine. Emily, let me do this, all right?”
She took a terribly long time to answer but finally she agreed. “All right. But just something warm. Nothing elaborate.”
“It’s up to you to decide whatever you want.” He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss that frown right off her face. He wanted to hold her again as he’d held her through the night. But he knew that might not happen, not ever again.
After they stopped at the car and locked Emily’s camera inside, they crossed to the western-wear store. The scent of leather was strong as they entered. But Emily didn’t head toward the leather goods and jackets. Rather, she aimed for a rack that held the sign Women’s Fleece.
Choosing a jacket from the rack, she tried it on. It was royal blue with black horses edging the zipper and armbands.
“You look pretty in that color,” he said before he thought better of it.
Her gaze locked to his and she seemed to be asking him if he was giving her idle flattery.
After he stepped closer to her, he adjusted the stand-up collar on the jacket, his fingers brushing her hair. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
He couldn’t keep from pushing a few strands away from her cheek. He couldn’t help inhaling her sweet scent. He couldn’t hold his libido in check anymore where she was concerned, and that annoyed him.
Backing away, he said offhandedly, “It’s practical.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll be able to wear it in Chicago next winter.” She looked at the tag on the sleeve. “And it’s even on sale.”
Her pleasure in that made him laugh. This was the first woman he’d ever taken shopping who considered a lower price to be better than a higher one.
Instead of taking Emily into his arms and giving her a hug and a kiss right then, he checked his watch. “We’d better be heading back if we want to get ready for dinner. Is there anything else you want to look at?”
Her gaze fell on a rack of western-style blouses. “I’ll just be a minute.” Moments later she was rifling through them. When she found a white one with a cowboy hat and lariat embroidered on one pocket, a horseshoe on the other, she smiled. “It will be a souvenir.”
He knew better than to offer to pay for the blouse. Maybe he hadn’t known Emily Stanton well in the six months she’d worked for him, but in the past few days he’d learned enough to fill an encyclopedia.
As soon as Emily met Adele Douglas later in the day, she was impressed.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here this afternoon when you arrived,” Adele said as she showed Emily and Brad into the dining room that night.
Adele had a warm and gracious manner. She wore her blond hair in a chin-length bob and had dressed for dinner in a green, long-sleeved sweater and wool slacks. Everything about her was sophisticated.
“We invited our son Riley to dinner tonight, even though he needs no invitation,” she said with a sly smile, beaming at her son.
Riley looked to be around Brad’s age, with black hair, green eyes and a killer smile. He was almost as handsome as Brad. Almost. Emily knew she was prejudiced.
After Riley shook her hand and Brad’s, they all seated themselves around the large cherrywood table. The buffet along one wall held two highly polished silver candelabra. In the buffet’s center stood a silver tureen. Tess Littlehawk was ladling soup out of it. Emily noticed the housekeeper eyeing Brad and she wondered why.
“When I want a good, home-cooked meal, I come over here and let Tess feed me,” Riley joked.
“He eats here most of the time because of working on the ski resort with me and living only a half mile down the road.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Justin, too,” Riley commented blandly.
An odd look passed between Caleb and Adele. Finally Caleb explained, “I have another son, Justin…Justin Crane. Actually, I knew nothing about him until a few months ago.”
Emily could see that Adele looked uncomfortable but she recovered quickly. “Justin just married recently,” Adele added bravely, rallying from whatever thoughts she’d been having. “He married a dear girl we’d raised most of her life and always thought of as a daughter. I’m sure you’ll meet Katie and Justin sometime soon, at the groundbreaking ceremony if not before.”
“The groundbreaking for the ski resort?” Emily asked.
“Precisely,” Caleb boomed. “We’re having a fine party afterward in the town hall.”
“I’m hoping we’ll have this whole mine matter wrapped up before then,” Brad responded.
“Not much. We can’t get into the archives until the mayor returns.”
“Why not?”
“Apparently Mayor Brookhurst doesn’t trust the key to the archives room to anyone. I’m hoping it’s not necessary. I’m not going to sit around and wait until he gets back. Emily and I have an appointment with Mark Anderson tomorrow afternoon.”
“I hear he has invested in the Thunder Canyon Nugget,” Adele offered.
“He has a good reputation as a writer,” Riley commented. “Maybe he’ll use those pages for something more than gossip.”
Caleb laughed. “You young folk don’t appreciate the power of knowing what’s going on in the town.”
Riley returned his father’s smile. “I don’t need to know whose horse ran away from his barn. Maybe Mark will concentrate on bigger issues.”
“Such as the ski resort?” Caleb asked with up-raised brows.
“I’m hoping we can pull in some high-caliber tourists,” Riley admitted.
Adele, who was sitting around the corner of the table from Emily, leaned over to her. “If they start talking business, you and I are going to start talking fashion.”
Everyone at the table laughed and the conversation turned to the food Tess was serving, which smelled absolutely delicious.
After dessert, Adele showed them to a sitting room. Emily found herself in a striped love seat with Brad very close beside her. For the rest of the evening she had to concentrate hard to keep her mind on the conversation. He was wearing a tan, cable-knit sweater and hunter-green corduroy slacks. He fit right in here with Caleb and Adele and Riley. Emily knew she didn’t. Her hair wasn’t styled in the latest fashion. Her clothes weren’t as fine as Adele’s. She kept her nails trimmed and shaped, but they weren’t manicured like her hostess’s. This wasn’t the life she knew, and she probably never would know.
Yet to Brad this was probably the norm.
When Tess asked if anyone wanted a nightcap a while later, Emily couldn’t help but yawn. “I’m sorry,” she said, embarrassed.
“You have no reason to be sorry,” Adele assured her. “You must have had a terrible couple of days in that cabin with no power. Now maybe Caleb will get a generator.”
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