“What a pleasant town,” Alyssa said. Her scarlet curls hung loose around her face, bouncing against her cheeks, flushed by the sun despite her wide-brimmed hat.
“Morehouse is…” Jeremiah searched his vocabulary. Captain Greenwood lived in a more populated town than what Jeremiah was used to seeing, but it held an awkward air, as if everyone was too stiff. The horseback riders never looked at each other; no greetings were given. Back home, everyone knew each other by name and never missed a chance to ask how he or she was doing. The riders couldn’t all be strangers.
Children didn’t run along the wooden sidewalks and Tarnished Silvers didn’t lounge outside the buildings. Actually, no one strolled the streets. Other than the dry dirt, nothing appeared unclean. Even the windows sparkled.
The driver opened the door and Jeremiah hopped down, lifting his hand for Alyssa. She clasped his fingers, smiling, and stepped to the road. The driver unlatched their bags from the back compartment, accepted the payment, tipped his top hat, and departed.
Where was the normal chatter, asking about the visitor’s travels and stay? Jeremiah had heard newcomers questioned back home. “He was quiet.”
“Perhaps that’s how his boss prefers the drivers?” Alyssa lifted her bag. Amethyst would’ve insisted someone else do it for her.
Scowling, Jeremiah lifted his and hers, and led the way into the inn. At home, the inn was filled with local men and dating couples enjoying food or music. Here, a clerk stood behind the counter, but otherwise, the space appeared empty.
“Do you have rooms?” Jeremiah set his valise on the counter.
“For you and your wife, sir?”
If only. “A cousin.” They’d agreed that sounded safe. “I would like two rooms. Please give Alyssa your best available.”
“They’re all the best, sir.” The clerk flipped to a clean page in his ledger and turned it toward Jeremiah.
“Do you get many guests?” Alyssa stroked the cameo pinned to the collar of her indigo blouse.
“This is an army town, ma’am. Wives and other members of family are the normal guests. Are you visiting someone?”
The first location made safe on the frontier and it had become an army haven. “This is all for the army?”
“Training grounds, barracks, and general quarters. Yes, sir.”
“We’re passing through,” Alyssa said. Right, the clerk had asked a question about visiting someone.
“Actually, I want to call on an old family friend. Captain Nathan Greenwood. Do you know where I can find him?”
The clerk closed the ledger. “He might not be in residence, but I can direct you to his home.”
Jeremiah lifted the brass knocker, shaped like a lion’s head, on the front door of Greenwood’s house. His mother would’ve hated it, with the plain black shutters and white siding. The yard lay smooth and green, without flowers, bushes, or trees. “This is very utilitarian.”
“He must not have time for pleasantries,” Alyssa said.
Jeremiah knocked again to make sure the butler heard. “He could hire a gardener.”
“He might be very frugal.”
The front door opened to a Bromi slave wearing a black suit. “Yes, sir?” Behind the elderly man showed a plain whitewashed wall.
“I’m seeking Captain Greenwood.” Obviously, the captain wasn’t home, but any information might help.
“I’ll need you to leave your calling card and the captain will be in touch.”
“I’m an old friend of his just in from the east.” He hoped the Bromi didn’t detect a lack of an Eastern accent. “He said he had a book for me. Said he’d leave it in his office.”
“I have my orders not to let anyone in.” The Bromi’s facial expression didn’t shift, his yellow eyes blank and mouth firm. “If it was something in his office, that’s down at the station. Good day, sir.”
The door shut. Jeremiah snorted, rocking back on his heels. He’d expected to be escorted into at least the foyer. There had to be something he could use.
“We had a nice trip.” Alyssa brushed his arm. “We can enjoy a pleasant meal and head back to the ranch. I’ve liked our time spent together.”
“There’s something wrong with Captain Greenwood,” Jeremiah growled. “Why’d he go on about Clark Treasure so much? We’re not that special.”
A window slammed shut above them in the two-story house and a steambuggy with a uniformed soldier rattled by.
“We’ll go to his office. Maybe his secretary will know something.”
“Jere,” Alyssa whispered. “I don’t want this to make you ill.”
“I can feel it. Something isn’t right.” She had to understand. Her sister had died—Alyssa knew life wasn’t perfect. Captain Greenwood might have something to do with their neighbor, Horan.
Greenwood’s door opened. The Bromi looked up and down the street, before waving. “Head to the back.” He shut the door.
Jeremiah blinked. That must’ve been imagined.
“How odd.” Alyssa frowned. At least she understood something was wrong. He grabbed her hand, pulling her around the building to a backdoor. The Bromi slave waved them inside, shutting the door behind.
Maybe they shouldn’t have obeyed. It could be a trap.
Captain Greenwood couldn’t suspect anything.
A girl with red hair a paler shade than Alyssa’s stood beside the kitchen table cracking her knuckles. He figured she had to be around sixteen, Amethyst’s age. “I heard ya from upstairs. You mentioned Clark Treasure.” Her green eyes widened and she stepped forward, stiletto heels on her white knee boots clicking the floor.
Jeremiah nudged Alyssa behind him. Whoever the girl was, she chose to dress as immodest as possible in a white chemise and matching corset, a lace skirt that only reached her thighs.
“He’s my brother,” Jeremiah said.
“You really know Clark Treasure?” The girl tugged on her black choker. “A boy from Tangled Wire? Blonde and blue-eyed, a real soulful chap?”
She might be a Tarnished Silver from his hometown. That might be why Captain Greenwood was curious. “Yeah. That’s our Clark.”
“Are you Captain Greenwood’s daughter?” Alyssa asked.
She shook her head.
“His wife?” Alyssa pressed. Jeremiah snorted. A prude like Captain Greenwood wouldn’t have a slut like that for his mate.
“I’m Clark’s wife,” the girl whispered. “Mable.”
loody gears.” Jeremiah took a step back, bumping against a barrel of flour. Clark had mentioned knowing a girl back in Tangled Wire. Her name could’ve been Mable, or maybe it’d been Honey. Clark hadn’t spoken of her as though they were wedded. She’d been a friend, her mother a Tarnished Silver like his.
“Why aren’t you with him?” Alyssa asked. How could she be so calm? Clark Treasure had a secret wife he’d abandoned.
“I got stolen.” Mable’s face reddened to the shade of her hair. “Why’d you think he’d up and leave? He loves me more’n life itself. I swear he told me.”
“You were stolen?” Alyssa grasped Mable’s trembling hands and led her to one of the chairs. “Sit, please. We’ll talk calmly.”
“Please,” the Bromi slave interrupted. “Guests are not allowed when the master is not home. This must be quick. You must not be seen.”
“I’m never allowed to be seen.” Tears dripped down Mable’s cheeks. “If you know, will you tell him where I am? He’s got to come get me. He won’t let me suffer.”
“No one should make you suffer.” Alyssa patted Mable’s unbound hair as it hung in matted clumps. Alyssa needed to be careful; the girl might not be stable. Jeremiah rested his hand on his pistol in case he needed it.
Mable sniffled. “I get sunlight through the windows and sometimes he lets me open them for air.”
“Captain Greenwood keeps you here?” Jeremiah clarified.
She nodded. “He took me away from Tangled Wire. Said it weren’t my home no more.”
; “You must be family to him.” Alyssa lowered Mable’s head to her lap as she stroked her curls. “He wants to keep you safe.”
“He ain’t no family.” Mable jerked away, her eyes narrowed. “My family was my Ma and he shot her in front of me. He held her down and put the bullet between her eyes. He told me he’d do it to Clark, too, if I didn’t behave.”
Alyssa tensed. “He shot your mother?”
“She must’ve done something against the law.” Jeremiah trailed off. The defense sounded too much like something Zachariah would say. He knew the captain made his skin crawl.
Tears drenched Mable’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt Clark none. The army came through all the time. I don’t know why, but they was always there. Clark had some absinthe. It was in a little bottle. Folks always carried tumblers and stuff around. It weren’t no different than normal. This army fella asked me if I’d seen it and I said yeah, Clark had it. He’d thrown it away so I got it back.”
A child’s ramblings. How old had she been when it had occurred? Jeremiah couldn’t remember much of what Clark had mentioned about his only childhood friend. He might not have said the bad.
“What happened then?” Alyssa cooed.
“The army fella got real mad. Captain Greenwood was there and some others. They shot Clark’s ma. They asked where he was. He should’ve been at the mine, but he wasn’t. Ain’t nobody could find him. Captain Greenwood, he killed my ma and grabbed me. Clark said since I was his girl, he’d come back for me.”
Clark’s girl—his wife. “What did he do?” Jeremiah gritted his teeth. Clark would’ve had to do something bad to start so much trouble, but it didn’t mean the army could kill Tarnished Silvers.
“It was that absinthe he drunk, only it ain’t absinthe. It was something else. Captain Greenwood said it would do something to him. I’ve heard them talking a lot about it.”
No wonder Clark hated the army and why Captain Greenwood wanted him there. “What did it do to him?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it sounds like it gives him magic. The army’s been after him. They want to…” She scrunched her nose. “Dissect him to get to it. I don’t know what that means.”
It couldn’t be the real story. Magic didn’t exist. Jeremiah glanced out the window at the bare yard and whitewashed fence. It didn’t mean her story wasn’t partly true.
“You’ll find him for me?” Mable rubbed the tears off her face. “He’ll come get me. He won’t let them hurt me no more. We’ll run away, just like he promised.”
“We can’t leave her here,” Alyssa whispered.
“If we take her, he’ll punish the Bromi.” Jeremiah nodded at the slave by the stove. That man hadn’t done anything besides allow Mable to tell her story.
Unless it was a lie. They could be working together.
“But…” Alyssa bit her lower lip.
“We’ll get Clark,” Jeremiah said, “just like she wants.” He could confirm or deny. Garth would know what to make of the matter.
Mable screamed into the pillow on her bed, but even that couldn’t lessen the excitement that made her heartbeat race. Clark would finally come for her. He must not have known Captain Greenwood had her. If Clark was on the run, Captain Greenwood wouldn’t have been able to get him word.
She rolled onto her back to stare at the white ceiling. Everything in the house was white. Captain Greenwood wouldn’t have it another way. She stretched her legs and adjusted her corset. Sure, the captain used her once in a while like men had used her mother back in Tangled Wire, and sure he starved her sometimes, beat her once in a while, all depending on his mood. He’d only pulled out a hunk of her hair once, when he’d been in a rage over Clark escaping him again.
He needed her alive so he could use her against Clark.
He’d put her in the clean room, with a real bed, and he got her clothes so she wouldn’t be naked. Whenever he left, she and the Bromi got to talk. He taught her about his lifestyle and his language. The Bromi had even taught her about the government—how he knew, she wasn’t sure, but he swore it was right. When the king had died, heirless, the government had decided to elect a president. The queen became what the slave called a figurehead. The people liked to look at her, but she didn’t have power. The president, therefore the people, since they elected him, got to control the government.
Clark would save him, too. He didn’t deserve to be a slave.
Mable giggled. Clark would give her a perfect life, full of riches and rich food. She’d grow fat and happy.
He’d promised.
“I’ll give the telegram to Mr. Treasure.” Captain Greenwood held out his hand, grinning.
“It goes right to him.” The Bromi sidestepped in the hallway.
Captain Greenwood clenched his teeth. The message might be about Clark. Garth wouldn’t share it.
“You are a slave,” Greenwood snarled. “You will know your place and act like it. Hand me the missive.” The captain yanked it from the Bromi’s hand and slapped him across the head, knocking him into the wall. Captain Greenwood landed a kick to his face, hearing the man’s nose crack. Blood gushed down his face.
“Know your place.” He unfolded the telegram and scanned the words.
Beware Captain Greenwood. He has history with Clark. Do not let Clark near him until I return with news. J.
The “J” would have to stand for Jeremiah, the son who had gone traveling with the family friend. Captain Greenwood stuffed the paper into his pocket. What could Jeremiah have discovered about Clark’s past? The family seemed oblivious—Clark must not have told them.
“What is this?” Georgette fled from the parlor, one hand to her mouth. “Blooming gears. What happened?”
“This slave accosted me.” Captain Greenwood wrinkled his nose. “Control your slaves, madam. If the government learns you’ve been too lenient, you will lose your permit to own them and they will be placed in hard labor where they belong.”
He stormed toward the kitchen for a glass of bourbon, leaving her to fawn over the pathetic Bromi.Those slaves would never tell on the captain—the pathetic beasts were too afraid to have that gumption.
Fools, all of them. He couldn’t wait until Clark Treasure returned home to the trap.
lark leaned against the side of the steamcoach interior and stretched one leg across the cushion. Amethyst settled into his lap, her head tucked between his shoulder and neck. Sleep breaths emerged from her mouth, her chest rising in rhythm.
He rubbed her back as he watched the countryside pass by outside the window in the door. That tree with the hole in the center where a raccoon lived… that maple with the birdhouse Georgette had designed and Jeremiah had constructed… the strawberry patch in which Georgette said they had picking parties every year… it all felt familiar. Clark touched his lips to the top of Amethyst’s head. Not since his childhood in Tangled Wire had he felt as though he belonged somewhere.
He and Amethyst might have been traveling, and he might have his father’s house in Hedlund City, but he recognized these sights. He didn’t have to feel as though he were being driven away, never to come back. The Treasures had welcomed him, offered him a place in their home.
He belonged at their ranch more than he’d ever done in Tangled Wire. They gave him chores, the ranch hands respected him—they never spoke to him in a condescending way, as he’d been spoken to when he’d worked odd jobs around the state. Back in Tangled Wire, he’d known he only had a home because his mother worked. If she couldn’t attract customers, or the saloon closed, they’d have to go elsewhere.
Amethyst lolled her head against him and he tightened his arm around her to keep her from slipping to the floor. They would have to find an appropriate time to tell her family the truth: the serum, the ability to communicate with ghosts, helping his father find the inventions.
The marriage.
He kissed her head again. He hadn’t meant to lie to them. If Eric hadn’t shown up, Clark would still think as they did.
The Treasure steamcoach pulled into the circle around the house. He shook her shoulder. “Sweetheart, we’re here.”
“You feel so good,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “I’m glad I make a good pillow.” He pushed her upright and straightened her jacket. She kissed his lips fast before opening the door and jumping out, her bustle bouncing.
“I’m home.” She stretched her arms. “Who missed me the most?”
Georgette rose from her perch on the porch. “Welcome back.”
“Where is everyone?” Amethyst pressed her hands to her hips.
“We’re preparing for the Hedlund Day celebration.” Georgette sashayed down the steps. “I trust you had a nice journey.”
Something in her stiffness didn’t ring true. Something irritated her. Clark hopped down behind Amethyst.
“I thought you were a proper young lady,” he joked. “You’re supposed to be helped out of your coach.”
Georgette pursed her lips. She should’ve laughed. Amethyst swatted his arm.
“Clark told me about Hedlund Day,” she said. “You’ve never invited me before.”
“You wouldn’t have come.” Georgette glanced toward the barn. “I suppose we can go see your father. He’s in the field behind the barn preparing with the others. We needed the biggest space, what with so many people attending.”
“Father, I’m home!” Amethyst skipped toward the closest barn, swinging her skirts around her legs.
Clark grasped Georgette’s hand when she moved to follow. “What’s wrong, ma’am?”
Georgette sighed. “I understand that Zachariah loves the army and wants to move up in the ranks, but is that the right life for him? I’d always hoped he’d attend a university, become a doctor or a lawyer. He loved his schoolwork.”
Clark linked his arm through hers as they trailed after Amethyst. He knew how cruel the army could be, hunting a teenage boy to use as a test subject, killing innocent Tarnished Silvers to get what they wanted. “Zachariah has to make his own choice.” Freedom was the best opportunity a man could have. Clark knew—he’d been denied it as long as he could remember. Running wild in a mining town didn’t count for anything special.
Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) Page 6