Logan studied his fingernails. “He thinks once he’s dead, she’ll fall for me, and Emma and I will be the ones to finally break the curse. Tried to tell him she wouldn’t go for it, but…well…the man is sick. Guess we have to make allowances for blatant stupidity.”
The other men simply stared at Dair. Then Luke asked, “That brain tumor must be parked on top of your good sense, huh?”
“Dumb as a box of rocks. My girls sure know how to pick ’em.” Trace drummed his fingers against the table. “So, what’s the schedule? We catching the six o’clock train?”
Dair pounded the table with his fist. “Listen to me. We are not doing anything. Logan and I are going after a killer.”
“And the knuckleheads and I are going with you.”
Dair drained his whiskey, poured another, and drained it. Jake shook his head. “Do yourself a favor, MacRae, and don’t try to fight it. He’s as stubborn as a two-headed mule.”
“Emma gets it from you, then.”
Luke sighed. “Maribeth is a chip off the old block.”
“Kat is her daddy through and through,” Jake added with a grimace.
“It makes a man proud to turn out such fine women,” Trace said with a grin. “So, tell us more about this killer. From what I gather from what Emma said, he’s evil, cunning, and invisible as a ghost. How do you expect to find him?’
“By finding the Sisters’ Prize. If I do that, then I expect he’ll find me.”
“He has a good head start on you,” Jake observed. “Maybe he’s already found it.”
“Perhaps.” Dair toyed with his glass. “If that’s the case, I expect I’ll find signs of it. With any luck I’ll be able to track him from those.”
“Luck?” Trace scoffed. “I hope you have a backup plan. Remember who you’re dealing with.”
“The Bad Luck Brides,” Luke clarified.
At that, a frightening thought occurred. “They’re not coming along!”
“No!” said Trace.
“Absolutely not,” added Luke.
“Over my dead body,” Jake declared.
Logan lifted his glass in a toast. “Gentlemen, to hopeless causes.”
East Texas
THE PUNGENT SCENT OF PINE swirled in the evening breeze as Hamish Campbell stepped from the cover of the forest and approached the dilapidated cabin. His shoulders were slumped, his footsteps weary following another day of fruitless searching.
He hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. He’d thought the engravings on the necklace would point the way. So far, he’d found nothing but disappointment.
He hated Texas. Detested the stifling summer heat. Despised the sorry excuse for shelter this cabin offered. As he climbed the porch steps to the cabin, frustration hummed in his veins. He wanted to throw something, to destroy something, but common sense prevailed. Temper had cost him thirty years ago. He wouldn’t repeat the mistake today.
As it happened each time he walked into the cabin, his gaze fell upon a particular spot in front of the fireplace. He could see it all clearly in his mind’s eye.
Roslin MacRae sat reading a story to her son as Hamish stepped inside the cabin. Startled, she stood up, shoving her son behind her skirts. “You.”
So, so beautiful. “Hello, luv.”
“Get out of my house. Immediately!”
“Now, now, my darling. I’ve only just arrived. I can’t leave yet. Not without what I’ve come for.”
“I’ll kill you before I let you touch me.”
“Such passion. Such life. You stir me, woman. We’ll get to that, but first…I want the Sisters’ Prize.”
Her beautiful eyes momentarily widened with alarm, though she quickly tried to hide her reaction. With that, any doubt Hamish had of the treasure’s existence was laid to rest. He stepped closer, his blood running hot with lust both for treasure and for the treasure’s guardian.
The bitch denied him both. When he attempted to use her son against her, seizing him, placing his hands around the boy’s throat and squeezing, she used the cursed dagger once again. Fate steered its path and the blade sank into his shoulder, rather than his heart as she so obviously intended.
Pain enraged him. Hamish lost his temper and made a foolish mistake. He’d turned the guardian’s dagger upon her and lost his chance at the Prize.
“Until now,” he murmured. True, he’d yet to find the treasure he sought, but he had time. All the time in the world. He’d taken care of the only two people who might have interfered.
The Black Widow and the Highland Riever were certainly in the hands of the Scottish authorities by now.
EMMA AND DAIR BOARDED THE six o’clock train headed east along with her parents, her sisters, their spouses and children, and Dair’s friend Logan. Tye and Claire cancelled their plans to come along at the last minute when their youngest broke his arm. An hour into the trip, Emma still couldn’t believe she was actually onboard. She’d had absolutely no intention of continuing the search for the Sisters’ Prize. Nevertheless, here she was.
The following day, she had every intention of staying at the hotel in Nacogdoches to help Jenny care for Mari’s and Kat’s children while their mothers accompanied their fathers to the cabin where Dair expected to solve the murder mystery. Instead, she found herself riding a rented horse through the Piney Woods of East Texas.
At least she wasn’t forced to ride with Dair. After a heated discussion amongst everyone but her, he, Jake and Luke had ridden on ahead. They planned to scope out the situation, and, if necessary, deal with the villain long before the women arrived.
Emma and Dair hadn’t spoken since she’d ordered him from Willow Hill the day before. He’d made a halfhearted attempt to approach her once but didn’t persist when she turned away. Her attitude frustrated her sisters, she knew, but Emma didn’t care. Neither did she concern herself over the men’s obvious disgust with Dair’s lack of action. She needed all her energy just to keep moving.
With any luck, this misbegotten adventure would end today. Early this morning, Papa found out some interesting information at the café. It seems that a couple months ago completely out of the blue, the owners of the acreage where Dair once lived received an offer for their land well above market price. The new owner was a Scotsman named Hamish Campbell. He’d made a good impression upon the citizens of Nacogdoches during his bi-weekly supply visits. He claimed to be a poet who sought the peace and privacy of the woods to practice his craft. He’d visited town just last week, and as far as anyone knew, he’d be at his new place today.
The closest Emma and Dair came to communicating was the moment her father uttered Hamish Campbell’s name. Dair’s gaze had flown to hers before he said, “It was his town house I won in a card game. That’s how he stole Emma’s necklace. The house probably had some secrets I didn’t know about. It always did give me some strange feelings.”
“What else do you know about him?” her father had asked.
Dair thought a moment, then responded, “Nothing. Other than that card game, I never had any dealings with him.”
Her sisters, Papa and Logan had spent much of the ride from town speculating on how Campbell might be connected to the Sisters’ Prize. Emma didn’t comment. She couldn’t bring herself to care.
They found Luke posted as lookout at the turnoff to the cabin. “He’s not here,” he told her father when they rode up. “He’s been here recently, however. The place has obviously been searched.”
“Any sign of Emma’s necklace?” Kat asked.
When Luke gave a negative shake of his head, Mari glanced at Emma, then asked, “How is Dair?”
Luke hesitated a long moment before replying, “He says he’s fine. I have my doubts.”
Emma just shut her eyes.
Trace removed his hat, smoothed back his hair, then returned his hat to his head. He and Logan shared a look before he said, “We’ll go back to town, then. The women can continue the treasure hunt once Campbell has been apprehended.”
Kat and Mari simply rode on. Logan laughed. “Y’all don’t have a lick of say-so over those women, do you?”
“Upon rare occasions we do,” Trace protested.
Kat glanced back over her shoulder. “We’re not stupid, Mr. Grey. If we thought it was truly dangerous we wouldn’t go, but we have plenty of protection. Besides, I still think everything is destined to turn out fine. I still believe my sisters and I are going to break the curse.”
They arrived at a small dog-trot style cabin a few minutes later. Jake stood guard on the front porch. Dair was nowhere to be seen. “I didn’t figure you’d be able to turn them back,” Jake said.
Luke shrugged. “Maybe they’ll find the treasure right away and we can get that part of this behind us.”
Everyone dismounted while Mari quizzed her husband about the search. “The cabin is small, Mari,” Luke told her. “MacRae went over every inch of it and didn’t see anything.”
“Where is he now?”
“Around back,” Jake responded. “He’s going over the outside of the cabin with a careful eye.”
“So he’s not worried that this Hamish Campbell already found the Sisters’ Prize?” Kat confirmed.
“It doesn’t look like it, honey.”
“I didn’t think so because we’re the ones who are destined to find it.” She looped her arms through Mari and Emma’s arms. “Right, sisters?”
“That’s right,” Mari declared. Emma’s only response was to ask Jake, “Any sign of my necklace?”
“’Fraid not.” Luke scanned the tree line, ever on guard. “I suspect we’ll find it on him when we find him.”
“All right then, let’s get to it.” Kat pulled pieces of notepaper from her pocket and passed one to everyone. “This is what the design we’re hunting for looks like. It could be anywhere, it will be permanent, but probably obscured.”
Dair came around the corner of the cabin holding a small framed picture in his hand. His gaze went right to Emma, then slid away. He spoke to Trace. “I might have found something.”
“What is it?”
“A watercolor of a cottage. I think it’s my mother’s home back in Scotland, but I’m not positive. I just know…there’s something about it. It’s important. I don’t know why and I don’t know how, but I feel in my gut that it’s something we should pay attention to.”
“You think it’s a clue to the treasure’s whereabouts?” Trace asked.
“Maybe. Problem is I can’t see it now and I can’t remember what, if anything, my mother said about it.”
“May I see it?” Kat asked.
Wordlessly, Dair handed her the painting. Emma couldn’t help but glance at it. It was a charming picture, a country cottage with stone walls and a thatched roof. Flowers grew in abundance in the yard. Swirling circles of lavender and pink, yellow and white. Emma studied the painting, and then the dogtrot cabin. She didn’t see a resemblance between the two.
Mari peered over Kat’s shoulder. “Maybe the clue is something that’s missing rather than something that’s there.”
“That’s a thought,” Trace said. “What do you think, MacRae? Something missing from the picture?”
“I simply don’t know.”
“Or maybe it’s the brushstrokes,” Kat suggested. “I’ve read about painters who hide secret messages in their paintings by the brushstrokes.”
“It’s a watercolor, Kat,” Mari said. “They don’t exactly have brushstrokes like an oil painting does.”
“There still could be a hidden message.”
Dair shook his head. “I don’t think…wait.” He took the painting from Kat’s hands and stared at it hard. “It’s the colors.”
He turned away and strode up the porch steps and into the kitchen side of the cabin. Mari and Kat glanced at each other, then started to follow, Kat grabbing Emma’s hand and pulling her along, too. Emma considered resisting, but decided making a fuss would only delay matters.
Inside, Dair had hung the picture back on the wall. He stood with his legs spread, his arms folded, studying a blank spot on the wall opposite the cottage painting. “It was here,” he said. “A wooden shelf with a plain glass vase and flower.”
“Was that the treasure?” Kat asked.
“No…” Dair grimaced, closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s a…”
“Clue?” Mari suggested.
“Key.” Dair opened his eyes. “A key. Something about a key.”
The sisters remained quiet, giving him an opportunity to think. Dair continued to stare at the blank spot on the wall for a long minute. Finally, he let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything else. Look, I think we should keep searching. Maybe I’ll find something else that will jog my memory.”
Without waiting for comment, he walked out onto the porch and addressed Emma’s father. “I’ve divided up the surrounding property into search areas. There are eight of us. If we search by pairs and have two lookouts at all times, it should be safe enough. Do you agree?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Trace looked at Logan. “I reckon our range detective would suit as one lookout. I’ll be the other.”
Emma sent a pleading glance to Mari who rolled her eyes, then said, “Dair, can I search with you?”
Looking tired and worn, he nodded. “Sure.”
Kat snorted with disgust. “Then I get Luke. I’m not very happy with my husband today. I caught him slipping candy to the children last night at bedtime. After they brushed their teeth!”
“One time won’t hurt them,” Jake protested. “Yesterday was a very long day and they were good on the train. They deserved a reward.”
Once the marital bickering eased, Dair pointed out the search areas he’d put together. “In addition to the mark, we are looking for signs of a prior search. We can’t neglect the fact that Hamish Campbell might have some information we don’t.”
Next, the men discussed danger signals and agreed to a rendezvous place and time that would allow Mari and Kat to return to the hotel in plenty of time to feed their children their lunches. Emma intended to go with them. Her sisters planned to return for an afternoon treasure-hunting session if the Prize hadn’t yet been located by that time. Emma hoped that could be avoided.
The group broke up into pairs and Emma joined Jake in an examination of the area they’d been assigned. She paid attention and put effort into her search. The sooner the treasure was found or the possibility of finding it eliminated, the sooner she could put this part of her life behind her.
She was studying a carving in the trunk of an old oak tree when she heard Mari’s worried voice call, “Jake? Luke? Emma?”
“Yeah,” Luke called. “We’re here, honey.”
Seconds later, Mari rushed into view. “Emma. You have to come. Dair is…hurting.”
Her heart twisted. “Where is he?”
“I helped him back to the cabin. I’d stay, but Emma, I have to go back to town.” She gestured toward her breasts. “It’s time to feed the babies.”
Emma rushed toward the cabin, a lump the size of a peach in her throat. She couldn’t bear this. She couldn’t. She couldn’t.
She burst into the cabin. He sat at a wooden table, his elbows propped on his knees, his head buried in his hands. “Dair.”
“Go away, Emma. I don’t want you here.”
The tears now always so near the surface, swelled and spilled. Behind her, her father said, “Emmaline?”
“It’s okay, Papa. I’ll take care of him. I know what to do.”
In short order, her sisters and their husbands left to attend to responsibilities in town. Papa and Logan stayed behind, continuing their watchdog role while Emma did her best to make Dair comfortable. She coaxed him to move to the bed in the other room where she then sat with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair, his brow, his face, whispering in a soothing tone. “Please, God. Protect him. Be all right, Dair. Please, be all right.�
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“Better with you,” he murmured. “Always, better with you.”
She lifted her hand long enough to brush away the tears from her cheek. Then, unable to help herself, she leaned over and kissed his temple. “Dair.”
He opened pain-clouded eyes. “It’s different this time, Texas. Pain is…pressure.” Dread filled her as he added, “If…hell…Jimbo. Kill me if Jimbo. Tell Grey. Want promise.”
Emma began to pray. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth. On Dair’s head, her touch remained gentle. The hand resting on his arm made a white-knuckled fist.
Then, from outside, she heard a frantic shout.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WITH THE FORCE IN HIS head increasing with every second, Dair needed every ounce of strength and grit within him to remain aware of his surroundings. When the cabin door opened and Logan half carried, half dragged Trace McBride inside, he fought to sit up.
“Papa.” Emma scrambled to help her father. “What happened?”
“Cougar,” Logan said, sitting Trace on the bed even as Dair struggled to rise and get out of the way. He saw jagged tears in Trace McBride’s skin all down his arm and across his back as Logan finished, “Clawed him pretty good. Teeth got him in a couple of places, too.”
Trace’s voice was labored. “Stumbled across her kits, I think. Wasn’t paying attention. Found a knife buried in a tree trunk. Looking at that.”
Logan frowned grimly. “He’s bleeding badly back here on his shoulder.”
“Keep pressure on the wound,” Emma instructed as she hurriedly rummaged through a dresser drawer. She removed a fine linen shirt and tried ineffectually to rip it.
“Here.” Logan drew a knife from inside his boot and sliced the shirt in two. “Sounds like this helped cause the trouble, so now it can be of some help.”
As Emma dampened the shirt with water from a pitcher, Dair noticed the blade his friend set on the bedside table. The pressure in his head escalated as his gaze locked on the dagger.
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