9781631054617HeLovesMeCole

by Christina Cole

  She heard footsteps in the front parlor and drew in a sharp breath. The Hendersons had retired to their room much earlier, and the children were all three sleeping soundly upstairs. Sensing a need for caution, she quickly gathered the papers on the desk and slipped them into the drawer. As she turned the key to lock the desk securely, a light knock sounded at the bedroom door.

  Benjamin? Her heart skipped a beat. With a quick pat to her face to put a bit of color in her cheeks, she rose and hurried to answer.

  Chapter Eleven

  When she opened the door and saw Della standing before her, Emily couldn’t hide her disappointment. No point even trying.

  “Did you need something?” Emily eyed her with skepticism, unable to think of a single reason why the girl would come knocking at her door. It must be something important. An urgent matter, she thought, remembering that Della was permitted inside the home only when performing her cooking and cleaning duties.

  “Yes…well, no, not really.” Della’s dark-fringed eyes gleamed. “I mean, I just stopped by to tell you I was going into town.”

  “Isn’t it awfully late?” Emily drew back and studied Della. Not that she cared a whit where Miss White went, what she did, or when she did it, but it hardly seemed a logical time to make the long drive to Sunset. She remembered, too, a night in Denver when she had made the decision to go out a bit too late one evening. She’d met with disastrous consequences. “Truly, Della, I don’t think it’s wise for a young woman to be out alone at this hour.” She sucked in a breath. “Or…is someone else going with you?”

  “No, I’m going alone. I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s an urgent matter,” she added. “I have to visit a sick friend.”

  “Oh, of course. In a situation such as that, I suppose you must go.”

  “Yes.” Della nodded. “I just wanted to let you know. In case you came looking for me and couldn’t find me.”

  Little likelihood she’d have any reason to be seeking out Della’s company.

  “What if you’re not back by morning? Who will fix breakfast?”

  “I’ll be back.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  Della sighed and rolled her eyes. “If anything happens to delay my return, I’ll send word, all right?” An odd look crossed her face. She poked her head through the open doorway then pointed toward the end table with the volume of sonnets upon it. “Where did you get that book?”

  Emily bristled. “It was a gift. A present at Christmas.” She refused to divulge the fact that Ben had been the giver. “Do you enjoy poetry, Della?” No, of course the lying, conniving bitch had no interest in poetry or any of the other finer things in life.

  Sure enough, the dark-haired girl laughed and shook her head. “Not in the least. That’s why I got rid of that silly book. A pain in the you-know-what to read.” She came into the room, picked up the slender volume, and ran a hand across the cover. “And now, you have it. Imagine that.”

  “Wait a minute,” Emily called as Della handed her the book and turned toward the door. “Are you saying that this book, this very book,” she said, holding it up and shaking it toward the girl, “once belonged to you?” Ben’s story about purchasing it at the mercantile suddenly became suspect. Had he gotten the book from Della and then had the nerve to gift-wrap it as a Christmas present?

  “Actually, it belonged to my mother. It was a gift to her, a gift from my father.”

  Emily’s mind reeled, unable to grasp what Della was telling her. “No, that’s not possible,” she asserted, clutching the book protectively against her chest. “Ben gave me this book. He bought it at the mercantile.”

  Della’s lilting laughter rang through the air. “Now that is quite a coincidence.” She smiled. “Yes, Emily, that book belonged to my mother. I can prove it. There’s an inscription on the inside front cover. To the one I treasure. You hold the key to my heart.” She drew in a breath, her breasts rising and falling. “My father must have been a remarkably romantic man. Little wonder my mother fell head over heels for him.”

  Emily clenched the book tighter. “Ben gave the book to me, Della.”

  “I don’t doubt that he did. I think it’s amusing that it ended up in your hands, that’s all. I sold it to Asa Taylor,” she explained. “After I came to Sunset, I was running low on funds. This was before I came to work for the Hendersons. I went through my belongings and sold things I had no use for. I’d kept the book for sentimental reasons, but sentiment won’t feed a hungry stomach.”

  Somewhat mollified, Emily nodded. “So Asa Taylor bought the book from you, and then he sold it to Ben.” He’d told the truth, after all.

  “Apparently so. Just an amusing little coincidence. Funny how things happen at times, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Well, I just wanted to let you know I was leaving now. I shouldn’t be too late, but if you hear me stirring about later…” She smiled. “I didn’t want you to be upset. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  Little chance of that happening. Emily returned the smile, amused by the superficial politeness between them. “Yes, fine. Thank you. I do hope your friend feels better soon.”

  Della nodded. “Me, too.” She waved and slipped out.

  Emily stared at the door.

  “Sick friend, my foot,” she muttered under her breath, certain everything the girl said had been an outright lie. Della had come to Sunset only a few months before. She had no friends in town, sick or otherwise.

  Miss Della White was up to something. Something no good. And a sneaking little suspicion warned Emily that whatever it was, Ben was probably involved.

  She choked back a momentary pang of conscience. She had, after all, assured him that she wouldn’t go snooping around, wouldn’t stick her nose into places where it didn’t belong. When she’d made those promises, she’d honestly meant to keep them, but that was then, and this was now, and sometimes promises could not be kept. Sometimes changes came along, important changes, new evidence, new facts.

  Her mind at this moment was whirling madly with a jumble of new information. The cipher, the gold, the revelation about the book, Della’s secret identity. No way could Emily be bound now by a hasty promise Ben had all but coerced from her.

  * * * *

  Ben looked up when the bunkhouse door opened. Della quickly stepped inside. His father had arrived a short time before. He nodded from one to the other.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said. “Did anybody see you come in here?”

  “What you mean is, did Emily notice.” Della gave a soft melodic laugh. “Don’t worry. I took care of it. I stopped by her room and told her I was going out.”

  John Brooks swigged at a long-necked bottle. “All right, we’re here to settle a few things, and I don’t like to waste time,” he said, glancing from one to the other. “Let’s lay all our cards out on the table, so to speak.”

  “This isn’t some sort of game, Mr. Brooks.” Della settled into the stiff-backed wooden chair at the desk. With a haughty air about her, she tilted her head slightly and slowly removed her gloves.

  “No, it’s not, and that’s why I called this meeting. I’ve been working my tail off, hunting for that gold. Now, come to find out, you’re digging around for it, too.”

  “Ben told you everything, I suppose.”

  “Damned straight he did.” For perhaps the first time ever, John Brooks turned to his son with a look that was close to admiration. “Came right to me. I always knew he’d take after me in the end.” He grinned.

  His father’s words made Ben nauseous. But he spoke the truth. Ben had gone to him, had pretended to be excited at the prospect of finding treasure, and had gotten as much information as he could. Della’s unexpected revelation about her identity provided a perfect opportunity to get the subject out in the open and try to figure out exactly what his father had planned.

  “Yes, I shared the information,” he admitted.

  Della stiffened. “It�
�s my father’s gold.”

  “Your father’s dead,” John Brooks said. “That gold is up for grabs. Whoever finds it—”

  “Let’s not argue,” Ben interjected. In truth, the gold wasn’t exactly up for grabs, as his father put it. Legally, it belonged to the mining company. There might be a small reward for its return, but whoever happened to find it—if it were ever recovered at all—would be obligated to give it back. Of course, his father refused to acknowledge that fact.

  “You’re right. No need for us all to be working at cross purposes.” John Brooks looked directly at his son when he spoke. He turned then to Della. “From what I’ve heard, there’s plenty of loot to go around, even split up three ways.”

  Della shook her head. “We split it in half. You and Ben are working together. You don’t deserve the lion’s share of what is, after all, actually my gold.”

  “It’s nobody’s gold until it’s found.” The older Brooks lifted the bottle again.

  “We split it fifty-fifty.” Della stood her ground.

  “Fine. This isn’t the time to quibble,” Ben said. “We came here to resolve matters, not stir up more problems.”

  “Right you are, son. Like I said before, we need to put our heads together, get all the information out in the open. If we work together, we’ve got a lot better chance of finding the treasure than if we’re working around each other and getting in each other’s way.”

  It struck Ben as ironic that—where criminal activity was involved—his father could speak with such logic and honesty. He stepped forward and looked directly into the man’s eyes—so much like his own.

  “What information do you have?” he asked. “You admitted you were here to find the gold, but you never gave me any actual facts.”

  “Benny, take it easy, don’t go getting excited.” He laughed. “Here’s how I came to know about it.” He smiled toward Della. “Got myself in a bit of hot water a few years back, ended up behind bars, locked up in rather close quarters with a fellow named Chet. That name mean anything to you, Miss White?”

  She frowned, then shook her head. “No, nothing.”

  “Chet Masters rode with your Pappy. He was with him when that payroll coach got robbed, and he was with him when he buried the gold.”

  “He knows where the treasure is?” Della’s excitement showed.

  “He did, Miss White. Yes, he did. But Chet took sick and died a while back. Lucky for us, he gave me the lowdown before he passed on.”

  “He told you where the gold is hidden?”

  “Yes, and no.”

  Ben watched his father with growing impatience. The man could be a powerful, commanding figure given the right circumstances. Like now. He had information Della wanted, information she needed. He would not give it up easily, but would exploit her interest, using her own desires against her in order to strike the most favorable bargain for himself. The man could have made a fine negotiator, a shrewd dealer, had he chosen to walk on the right side of the law.

  “What did he tell you, Pa?”

  “He said Love drew up a map.” He turned his full attention on Della. “I was given to understand that your mother had possession of it. I’ve since learned that your mother passed away, as well.” He bowed his head. “My sympathies, Miss White. Now,” he continued, raising his gaze again, “Do you have the map?”

  He must be speaking of the cipher. Ben closed his eyes, recalling the odd array of numbers. Could his father know how to interpret it? Had Chet Masters provided him with a key?

  Della swung up from the chair, obviously not one to be intimidated. “Never mind what I have, Mr. Brooks. The question is what you’re able to bring to the table. I don’t see that you have anything to offer. You’ve got no map, no clue, nothing that will help us recover the treasure. Am I right?” She paused and when he remained silent, she pointed a finger at him. “You see, you’re just trying to horn in on what’s rightfully my claim.” She threw a look at Ben. “You told him everything, didn’t you?”

  “Calm down, Della,” Ben cautioned. “Before you say or do something you might later regret. Hear him out. Yes, for what it’s worth, I told him who you were. Yes, I brought him into this, but I did it for good reason.”

  “What possible reason would you have?” An ugly scowl came across her features. “I offered to share the gold with you. I thought we had an understanding, Ben. We had an agreement of sorts. I should have known you’d get greedy. All men do.”

  “Listen to what my father has to say.”

  “I can bring something to the table, all right.” The older man leaned back, and hooked his thumbs in his braces. “You know, I suppose, that despite your claims that the gold belongs to you, it really doesn’t. Legally, it belongs to the mining operation. It was their payroll. They’re the rightful owners. Your father was a thief, Miss White. Let’s not forget that.”

  “There were insurance claims paid. The mining operation didn’t lose a cent.”

  “Far be it from me to argue with a pretty young girl, but you’re missing the point. You take that gold, and you could be in as much trouble as your father was. Leastways, if anybody found out you had it.”

  “You’d go to the sheriff?” Her eyes darkened like brewing storm clouds. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Brooks?”

  “No need for me to do that, so long as you listen to what I’m telling you. Girl, it’s not easy to hide evidence of wrong-doing. Your old man didn’t get away with his crimes, and I’m telling you, no way would you get away with it. You know nothing about how the law works. You’re too young, and probably still too good.”

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “The one thing I can offer you is protection. I’m not working alone, Miss White.”

  “You and Ben are working together. I know that.”

  “What you don’t know is that I’m also closely involved with another party, one with the legal authority to make sure we do get away with the gold.”

  “So now you’re talking about splitting the gold with someone else?”

  “I’m still talking about a three-way split, that’s all. Are you quick with figures?” He rattled off numbers. “You get roughly a third for yourself, and with me and my partners divvying up the rest, each of us comes away with about a fifth part of the gold. It’s a good deal.”

  “I’m not falling for it. I get half or I divulge nothing.”

  “Damn, you drive a hard bargain.”

  “There’s something else,” she said, her voice hard. She turned and looked directly at Benjamin. “We’ve got that pesky Miss Phillips nosing around. It’s all because of you, Ben.”

  “That’s not true. Emily is here because Lucille needs help” He let out a breath. “Look, she didn’t want to go back to school. She’s changed her mind about teaching, so she took the job caring for the children. I had nothing to do with it, Della. Believe me, I’m not happy about it either. You know that.”

  “She’s going to cause trouble, mark my words.”

  Ben nodded. Emily certainly could derail his plans, or worse yet, get herself caught in the middle. He didn’t want either to happen.

  “Get rid of her,” Della snapped. “Do you understand?”

  * * * *

  Get rid of her.

  Hidden in the shadows of the bunkhouse, Emily heard the awful words. Quickly she brought a hand up to her mouth to cover her frightened gasp. No one inside the long wooden structure had even the slightest inkling that she’d been listening. She trembled, realizing the seriousness of the situation. Ben was involved with Della White, all right. Not in the way she’d first suspected, but in a much worse way. And all that talk about his father! The three of them were working together, literally thick as thieves.

  And they wanted her dead!

  Shocked at what she’d heard, Emily staggered away from the bunkhouse. Confusion and anger filling her, she blinked back tears.

  A thief! She would never have believed it had she not heard it herself. She’d
heard every word, all their plans for finding the gold and splitting the loot.

  Apples don’t fall far from the tree. That’s what Pa had often said, and worse still, he’d said it about Benjamin. Like father, like son. That was another oft-repeated phrase. Why was her father always right?

  She supposed she should be glad to see Ben’s true nature now before it was too late. How awful her life might have been had she married him and learned only later about his criminal tendencies. Was that how he’d planned to support them? Little wonder he’d left the J Bar K. No doubt he and his father had been planning their nefarious little schemes for some time.

  Her stomach churned as she made her way back inside the farmhouse, desperate to reach the safety of her room. She prayed no one had seen her.

  Now, more than ever, it became imperative that she solve the mystery of the cipher. She must solve it, follow its directions, and recover the gold herself. Then, she could go to Sheriff Bryant, see that the stolen coins were returned, and save Ben from an unthinkable future as a fugitive, or worse—as a convict locked away in prison.

  With shaking hands, she pulled open the drawer and retrieved the sheet upon which she’d carefully copied the numbers.

  Her gaze fell upon the book of sonnets, and she sighed. To think the book had actually belonged to Della! A sudden urge seized her. She set aside the paper and grabbed the book, tempted to throw it into the rubbish bin. But she couldn’t do it. It had come from Benjamin.

  She thought again of the inscription, realizing that Ben had not written those words.

  To the one I treasure. You hold the key to my heart. .

  Ready to hurl the book away, Emily stopped. She turned to gaze at the book she held in her hand. “The key! It’s the book.”

  Excitement pounded at her heart as she flipped the cover open to reveal the title page. She studied the hand-written inscription once again. To think she’d once believed Benjamin had written those words. Looking at the writing now, it was obviously not his chicken-scratched script. His penmanship had never been too remarkable.