Ash tossed another shovelful of dirt onto the growing mound beside him. The hole was more than three feet deep in one spot now. “Are you talking about all those bodies they found over in the ravine at the end of the war?”
“Yeah. Damn Comanches killed every man but three, took every horse. Fools didn’t think to take the wagons, but then what would a bunch of redskins do with a load of gold?” He chuckled.
“So you decided to keep it for yourselves. Bury it and come back after the war.”
“Well, I decided that. The other two fools thought we were going to go find ourselves a Confederate patrol and get the gold sent on to Richmond. Hell, the war was lost long before then—I knew that.”
“And those are the two bodies I’m not supposed to worry about when I find them?”
Baxter grinned. “Right.”
Ash saw the gleam of anticipation in the man’s eyes. Where the hell was Jamison? Time was running out.
With his next plunge of the shovel, he struck something solid. There was no way to disguise the sound. Baxter heard it and stepped forward, dragging Sunny with him.
“That’s it! Hurry up, God damn you, uncover it!”
Ash worked as slowly as he dared, taking his time to scrape away the dirt and shredded canvas from the wooden box beneath. For Sunny’s sake, he was glad he hadn’t found the bones first.
Come on, Baxter, step close enough to see, close enough to let me reach you with this shovel, you bastard. It was his and Sunny’s only chance, he knew. As soon as Baxter had his hands on the gold, he’d have no more use for the two of them. He’d shoot them without a qualm and dump them into this very hole.
But Baxter was apparently no fool, at least not this time.
When Ash had the top of the box cleared, Baxter said, “Open it.” But the man didn’t step closer.
With the blade of the shovel, Ash pried around the top of the box. Rusty nails creaked in protest. One last effort, and the top came off with a jerk, sending Ash stumbling. He righted himself and peered into the box.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ian couldn’t wait another second. After all these years, he thought. Finally. Finally! He was going to get his hands on his gold.
In his gut he knew that when he saw all those gleaming bars he was going to have trouble leaving so much of it behind. He would only be able to carry a small portion of what was there, even if he packed it on every horse in the corral.
“Get back.” He waved McCord aside. Didn’t want him getting to close. “Not that way. Get to the other side.” As if he thought I didn’t know he was trying to get to his gun.
McCord shrugged and went where directed. He was sure being cool for a man who was about to die, Ian thought.
“Come on over here with me, honey.” Ian dragged Sunny with him to the edge of the pit. “You wouldn’t want to miss seeing all this gold.”
Sunny stumbled. Ian jerked the gun away from her head. Good Lord, he’d almost pulled the trigger!
Sweat broke out between his shoulders. It was too soon to kill her. If he killed her now he’d lose the upper hand. McCord would rush him. Ian would have to shoot him. Then who would climb down into that hole and bring out all the gold? With his stiff, uncooperative knees, Ian knew he’d be in trouble if he had to do it himself.
He loosened his hold on Sunny but kept her with him as he stepped up to get the first glimpse of his gold in over fifteen years. He peered into the pit.
“No. No! No!” His whole body went hot and numb with shock. His arms dropped heavily to his sides. The box was empty!
“Looking for something, Sergeant?”
Ian froze. That voice! It was familiar, but in an odd sort of way. It was one he knew from recent times, but it had the echo of past years behind it. A shiver ran down his spine.
“Drop the gun, Baxter.”
Jamison. What was he doing here? Drop the gun, my ass.
Before they knew what he was about, Ian grabbed Sunny. He turned to face William Davis and Sheriff Jamison. At the same time, he jerked Sunny in front of him and placed his gun to her head. “No, you drop your guns.”
McCord was on the move. He’d almost reached his gun. “Stop right there, McCord.”
McCord stopped. The look in his eyes was one of sheer hatred. Ian chuckled. Good. McCord wasn’t quite so cool now.
The other two men still held their weapons.
Ian felt the gun slip a notch in his hand. Sweat coated his palm. Hell, he was sweating all over. None of this was supposed to happen. It was all going wrong.
He nudged his gun against Sunny’s head. She whimpered and tried to duck away. “That’s right, honey, let them see how scared you are. You’re going to have a lot more reason to be scared if they don’t drop their guns.”
“Do what he says,” McCord urged from where he stood to Ian’s right.
Ian held his breath, then released it as the men dropped their guns.
“From the looks of things when we came up,” Davis said, “I’d guess you’ve had some sort of nasty surprise, Sergeant.”
Ian stiffened. Some misty something in the back of his mind shifted. He envisioned that day so long ago when he and the two privates had buried the gold.
He blinked it away. Now wasn’t the time.
“What are you doing here, anyway, Davis?”
The man laughed. “Well, I could say I’ve come to get the money you owe me. But the truth is, Sergeant, I wouldn’t have missed this moment for all the gold in the world.”
“What are you talking about? Why do you keep calling me Sergeant? Who the hell are you?”
Davis shook his head. “Tsk, tsk. You really should have kept a diary all these years and listed the names of all your victims. Then you wouldn’t have to ask stupid questions. I’m almost offended that you don’t remember me.”
Ian nudged the gun against Sunny’s head again, to show the men he meant business. “Don’t play games with me. You,” he said nodding to Davis. “Get down in this hole and find another box. I came for what’s mine, and I’m going to get it.”
“Not me,” Davis said shaking his head. “I had one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life in that hole. I’m not about to get back into it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Ian was stunned to feel his hands shaking. He shifted the gun in his palm to keep it from slipping.
Davis shook his head again. Something in the gesture, the scarred face, tugged at Ian’s memory.
“I’m really disappointed in you, Sergeant. But then they say the mind is the first to go when old age sets in.”
“Stop playing games with me, damn you!”
“Didn’t you notice anything missing from that hole? Like perhaps the two bodies you left on top of the crates before you filled it in?”
McCord and Jamison looked puzzled, curious. But not any more so than Ian felt.
Then a sick feeling rolled through his stomach. He stared at the ghastly scar on Davis’s face. And he knew. He took a step backward, dragging Sunny with him, his eyes still locked on the man who dared to taunt him. “You! It can’t be you! You’re dead, by God. I killed you myself!”
“You tried, I’ll give you that,” Davis said. “But you really should make certain your victims are dead before you bury them, Sergeant. It makes for tidier work.”
Sunny squealed behind her gag.
Ian jabbed her with the gun. “Shut up!”
Ash gripped the shovel handle until his fingers went numb. Be still, Sunny, he begged.
“Somebody want to tell me what you two are talking about?” the sheriff asked.
“That’s right,” Davis said. “I didn’t get to finish telling you about the gold shipment, did I?”
“You got as far as the three of you—I take it Baxter here was the Sergeant?—decided to bury it and send a Confederate troop out to dig it up.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what Randy and I thought we’d decided. Next thing I knew, Sarge here had blown a hole in Ran
dy’s back.”
Ash eased half a step backwards. How many people had Ian Baxter killed?
“You do remember Randy, don’t you, Sarge?” Davis asked with a smirk.
Baxter’s fingers dug into Sunny’s shoulder. At her wince of pain, Ash’s gut clenched.
Baxter snarled at Davis. “I suppose you’re going to tell me he’s still alive, too.”
“No, Randy was dead all right,” Davis told him. “But I wasn’t. You should have checked. Although I must thank you for throwing that tarp over me. It’s what kept me from suffocating until I could dig my way out. And while I’m thanking you,” he said with a wolfish grin, “I must also thank you for the eye patch. The ladies seem to find it intriguing.”
“I’ll shoot out your other goddamn eye if you don’t tell me where the hell my gold is,” Baxter threatened. Ash could see him trembling. With rage? Fear?
Davis held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. “What was I supposed to do with it? Some folks came along and helped me. We got all the gold out, along with poor Randy, and they took me home with them and nursed me back to health. By that time the war was over. There was no more Confederacy to give it to. I sure wasn’t going to give it back to the Yankees.”
“So you kept it!”
“Now, Sergeant,” Davis said. “Do I look like the type of man to keep something that doesn’t belong to me? Let’s just say it went to a worthy cause.”
Baxter shook harder. Any minute, Ash he knew, he was going to explode. “You gave it away?”
Jamison’s sudden laughter drew Baxter’s attention. Ash used the opportunity to move back another few inches.
“That’s priceless!” Jamison nearly bent double, he was laughing so hard. “Yankee gold! Davis, what a hoot! All that Yankee gold going to support Confederate widows and orphans.”
“Thank you.” Davis gave a stiff little bow to Jamison. “I rather thought it seemed like poetic justice, myself.”
Baxter roared with rage. He shoved Sunny; she went flying sideways. With her hands tied behind her, she couldn’t catch herself. She landed hard on her side in the dirt.
For one stunned second, Ash couldn’t move. Baxter stumbled at the edge of the pit. He waved his arms futilely, then fell into the hole. His gun went off.
Ash leaped sideways. The bullet plowed into the ground inches from where he’d stood. While Baxter tried to scramble out of the hole, Ash sprinted past him and threw himself on top of Sunny, pressing her face into the dirt. He could feel her squirm beneath him. She was all right. She had to be all right.
Baxter climbed out of the hole, his eyes wild. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”
Davis made a move toward his gun, which lay three feet from his foot.
Baxter raised his pistol and aimed.
Ash, keeping his body between Sunny and Baxter, stretched and scooted toward his own discarded revolver, knowing he would never reach it in time. The ground seemed to shake with his own heartbeat.
Baxter fired just as Davis dove sideways. The bullet missed.
“Baxter!” the sheriff shouted, leaping toward his gun, drawing Baxter’s attention.
Baxter swung his arm toward the sheriff.
Ash knew this was a shot Baxter would not miss. Could not miss. He saw the sweat glisten on Baxter’s brow, the muscle tighten in his jaw. Saw his finger twitch on the trigger.
Jamison would never reach his pistol in time.
Ash made a final lunge and reached his own gun. He brought it up, his arm swinging over Sunny’s head, and fired. He felt her flinch.
Baxter jerked. His finger squeezed the trigger, but the shot went wild. A small blossom of red appeared between his shoulder blades. Almost gracefully, he crumpled to the ground.
Quiet. Sudden, deafening quiet.
Ash dropped his gun and slumped against Sunny. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own rasping breath.
Close. It had been too damn close.
Beneath him, Sunny squirmed.
He lifted himself off her back and immediately untied her hands. He wasn’t surprised to find his own hands shaking. He rolled her to her back and removed the gag. “Are you all right?”
Without waiting for her answer, he grabbed her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, hanging on for dear life.
She burrowed into him. “Ash, oh Ash!” Her arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed.
“Sunny! My God, I died a thousand times when I saw him put that gun to your head. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She pulled back and looked at him. “And you?” She searched his face as if to find the answer to her question.
He nodded.
She placed a shaking hand against his cheek.
He closed his eyes, savoring her touch, trying to still his pounding heart, his trembling knees. He’d nearly lost her! He felt her shift against him. Her lips brushed his.
He gasped, then pressed his mouth against hers, hard, fierce, trying to wipe out the terror of the last hour. She tasted so damned sweet. Now that she was in his arms once more, he didn’t know where he would find the strength to leave her again.
The thought sobered him. He tore his mouth from hers and looked down at her. She opened her eyes. Oh God. She was crying. “Sunny, don’t. It’s all over now. You’re safe.” He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, sipping the tears away. “Don’t cry, sweetheart, don’t cry.”
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Ash, you came back. I knew you’d come back.”
He forced her away. “I came because I knew you were in trouble.”
He watched her closely and knew the instant she realized he’d not come back to stay. He braced himself against her pain and his own, against the renewal of her tears.
What he got instead was a shove away from her.
“You mean you didn’t come back to stay?”
Something about those sparks in her eyes made his neck stiffen. “Nothing’s changed, Sunny, except for the worse.”
“What’s worse?”
“There’s no way I can clear my name now. Baxter’s dead, and so are Gus and Maria.” He shook his head. “I can’t stay. You know that.”
He watched her swallow. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Even if I ask you to stay?”
The words themselves might indicate she was humbling herself, but her tone denied it. Her voice was sharp with anger. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for that. Lord, didn’t she understand how badly he wanted to stay? How much he loved her? He shook his head. Of course she didn’t. He’d never told her.
What she was asking him to do was the one thing he wanted to do more than any other. Be with her day after day, love her, share her life. That was the dream that tormented him—it was so close, yet so far out of his reach.
He nodded toward Jamison. “I don’t think the sheriff’s going to give me much choice. I just shot a man in the back. Again.”
“But that was—”
“Don’t you go using me as an excuse to disappoint a lady, McCord,” Jamison called out.
Ash jerked his head around and stared, stunned. “Aren’t you the one who told me this morning that there was never an excuse for shooting a man in the back?”
The sheriff worked his mouth and studied the ground a long moment before looking Ash in the eye. “Seeing as how it’s my hide you saved, I reckon I’ve got a right to change my mind.”
Ash couldn’t believe it. Jamison wasn’t going to arrest him!
A tiny, dangerous sliver of hope rose in his chest. He felt a hand on his arm. He turned to find Sunny’s eyes glassy with tears. Her smile would melt the coldest heart, and his was anything but cold.
Then reality set in. He shook his head again. “The people in town will always scorn me. They’d soon feel the same about you.”
She tossed her head. “I don’t care.”
Oh God. He could feel himself giving in to her. He took a step back. “They’ll say I only wanted you so I cou
ld get my ranch back.”
She shortened the distance between them again. “Let them.”
He closed his eyes and took another step back.
She followed him. “If you don’t care what they say about you, and I don’t care what they say about me, then to hell with them. I don’t see the problem.”
He opened his eyes wide. The swear word coming from those sweet lips startled him. He took another step back. “Sunny—”
“The ranch should be yours. It was stolen from you. It’s yours by right.” She stepped forward. “And I’m yours by right, because I love you.”
“Sunny.” He started to reach for her, then dropped his arms. Between what he wanted—what they both wanted—and what he knew he should do, he was tearing himself apart. And she was only making it worse.
“Just tell me one thing, Ash,” she said, stepping closer. “Do you love me?”
He was so bewildered by her question it took him a moment to answer. “Do you even have to ask? You know I love you.”
“Then are you going to marry me?”
He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. God! Was there ever a woman like this one? But could he give them what they both wanted so badly, only to have her end up hating him in a few weeks or months because her friends and neighbors shunned her for her association with an ex-convict?
This time when she moved, it was away from him. He felt a pain in his gut.
“Because I’ll tell you right now,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry to the two men he assumed were still somewhere behind him. “If you don’t marry me, I’m going to ride into town with the sheriff and tell everybody there exactly what we did together, including last night. Reverend Holden himself will be out here with a shotgun and make you marry me.”
Oh God, oh God. She’d done it now. He could barely keep his lips from twitching. “Exactly what we did?”
Hands on hips, she narrowed her eyes and glared. “Exactly.”
Behind him, Ash heard one of the men cough and choke on what had to be either laughter or pure shock. He pursed his lips to keep from grinning. Somewhere in the region of his heart he felt a chain break loose, freeing him from everything but Sunny.
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