Holding tight to the book, Emily closed her eyes, willing herself to come up with the answers she needed. At the moment, she wasn’t even sure she knew the questions.
Something within the book held the secret to the cryptic numbers.
Her eyes flew open and she began thumbing through the pages again, faster and faster.
“Sonnet 20. Sonnet 48. Sonnet 57.” Randomly she called out numbers, then stopped and smiled. “Yes, this is it.” Slowly she ran a finger down along the side where each line was individually numbered. She’d read once about Bible ciphers, elaborate coding systems based upon the books, chapters, and verses of the Bible. Joe Love, she guessed, had chosen a more romantic way to hide what he most cherished. His gold.
Of course, her ideas were crazy…but what if they proved true? She returned to the paper and noted the first series of numbers.
“One hundred eighteen,” she said aloud, turning pages quickly. Eagerly she scanned the sonnet but found it as incomprehensible as the others she’d read earlier. This poem spoke of purging, and medicine, and seemed to suggest that love might be a sickness. Oh, yes, she could definitely agree with that sentiment, but how did any of it relate to the cipher? She’d expected to find mention of gold or treasure.
Line thirteen.
Spurred on by a whisper from her heart, she read the thirteenth line. “But thence I learn and find the lesson true.”
Once more she closed the book. She’d clearly been mistaken. No point wasting time with crazy ideas. But the whispering continued, growing louder in a frantic recitation of the numbers.
One hundred eighteen. Thirteen. Six.
Emily’s eyes grew wide. “Sonnet One Hundred Eighteen. Line Thirteen. Word Six.”
Quickly she re-read the line and counted to the sixth word.
“Find.” She spoke the word aloud as she scribbled it down. Eager now, she proceeded to the next series.
Sonnet Sixty-Eight. Line One. Word Six.
Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn.
As soon as she saw the word, she knew her persistence had finally paid off.
Find map.
Shaking and with tears now coming unchecked, she worked her way through the sheet of numbers. Emily didn’t know why she was crying. She only knew she couldn’t stop. Too many emotions had been locked up inside, she supposed, and now everything was pouring out.
Ben and Della were working together in cahoots with John Brooks, and someone else, too, someone with legal authority. Was Sheriff Bryant involved in the scheme? Emily shuddered at the realization that she was pitted against not one but four thieves, all united in a quest for stolen gold. And they wanted her dead.
But, of course, she had the one thing they needed most. Not the map itself, but information on where to find the map that would lead directly to Joe Love’s hidden treasure.
She smiled as she read the completed message she’d extracted from the book.
Find map. Dig under spring house, two feet from east window. In green glass.
When she’d set out to break the code, she’d done it with intentions of helping Ben, but no longer. Now that he’d revealed his true colors, she must be on guard and make certain he did not get the information. Thank goodness, he had no idea she’d copied the cipher.
On the other hand, if they knew she possessed the information they sought, perhaps they would spare her life. Emily glanced at the paper in her hand, the one with her decoded message. She must not be caught with it!
She slipped from her room and tip-toed into the parlor. The fire had died down now. Only glowing embers remained. Kneeling before the hearth, she laid the paper atop the grate and watched as the heat caught hold of it and turned it to a pile of charred black ashes. Emily had memorized the words and had no need of the paper itself. She glanced toward the second sheet in her hand, the page upon which she’d first copied the cipher. Perhaps she should spare it from the flames. If the time came whereby she must save her life by proving her knowledge, she would need each number. She would not destroy it, but would keep it safely hidden.
After returning to her room, she folded the sheet of numbers and carefully tucked it inside the canvas bag she used for carrying supplies. Perhaps not the safest place, but at the moment, she couldn’t think clearly. It would do, for now.
She had to come up with a plan.
What to do?
Simple. She would recover the map, then she could enlist the help of Sheriff Bryant to uncover the gold. Or, if her suspicions proved correct, and she sensed that he, too, were involved, she would have to go directly to Judge Morse in Denver.
And what of Ben? Surely he would never harm her, would he? More tears came along with her questions.
Should she turn in all the conspirators? Or should she spare Ben?
She actually had no proof of their evil intentions other than what she’d heard. No one would believe her. It would be her word against theirs. Besides, they had legal protection. Someone in power was counted among the them and would ensure that her claims were treated as nothing more than idle speculations.
She lay awake long into the night wondering again what course of action she should take. Toward dawn the irrefutable answer came. She must trust no one. She must find the gold herself. Only then would anyone listen to her. Only then would anyone believe her.
* * * *
The next day passed slowly. Although caring for the Henderson girls kept Emily quite busy and also kept her mind occupied, a heaviness had settled over her. It brought with it a weariness that made it difficult to move about. She struggled to keep up with Hope and Charity, and even found herself losing her patience with sweet little Faith when the tot left her toys scattered about the playroom.
At last, all three girls were tucked into their beds. Emily’s responsibility for Faith, Hope, and Charity ended each evening as they drifted off to sleep. With Tom nearby to help look after them, her services as caretaker were no longer needed. She looked forward to her personal time each night, but never more so than on this particular occasion.
She’d thought the day would never end.
Not wanting to alarm anyone or arouse any suspicions, she followed her usual routine. With a sweet smile, she said good night to Tom and Lucille and hurried to her room.
For hours she sat at the small desk, nervously chewing at her bottom lip as she waited for the house to grow quiet. Because he arose early each morning, Tom typically turned in soon after sundown. Lucille, of course, needed a great deal of rest. Tonight, as she did most nights now, she had slipped into bed as soon as she’d finished dinner.
Holding her breath, Emily listened as at last the house grew still. In her mind, she ticked off the whereabouts of each occupant. The little ones were sleeping soundly upstairs. Tom and Lucille were both in their room at the far end of the house. As for Della…
Emily sighed. She couldn’t be sure precisely where Della White might be. Although the girl had retired to her small cottage earlier that evening, it was impossible to know if she’d remained there or if she had gone out.
Every moment counted, of course, and Emily felt it unwise to delay her plans any longer than necessary. Grabbing her woolen shawl, she hurried toward the door. She pushed it open slightly, just enough to give her an unobstructed view of the parlor. No one was in sight. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and then tip-toed through the quiet house.
Once outside, she glanced around, relieved that all was still. To the west, the last rays of sunlight were fading away, casting thick gray shadows across the landscape. She searched the eastern skies, but the waning moon had not yet risen. Little chance existed that she would be seen.
Pulling the shawl tighter about her shoulders, she hurried across the yard. Had she been given a choice, she would have preferred a warmer, more accommodating night to be about her risky business, but foiling a gang of thieves wasn’t the sort of activity where one could pick and choose the best time. Putting her hands on that map was the firs
t, crucial step in finding and getting the gold itself. She had to act immediately.
She drew in a deep breath. The frigid winter air chilled her lungs. The coldness of the night, however, would not stop her. Nothing would deter her. Emily scurried through the snowy yard toward the spring house. As she neared, she saw a dim yellowish light glowing from the window. Someone else was inside.
Emily drew back. Was it Della? John Brooks? Another meeting of the gang, perhaps? Were they gathered together to further their plans, or perhaps, to plot her demise? Most distressing of all, why had they chosen the spring house?
No more hiding, Emily resolved. The time had come to confront the menace, to face it head on. Growing angrier with each step, she marched toward the door and jerked it open.
Chapter Twelve
Emily stopped at the doorway, mouth agape. Before her, in the center of the large, open area stood Benjamin Brooks. A small lantern glowed from the corner of the spring house.
She couldn’t utter a word.
His head snapped around. When he saw her, his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What are you doing here?”
Her mind raced. Yes, what was she doing there at the spring house so late in the evening? For that matter, what was Benjamin doing there? Asking questions would arouse too many suspicions. She took a different approach.
With a sweet smile, she sashayed toward him. “I couldn’t sleep. I was sitting at the window. I saw you come in here,” she lied. She gave him what she hoped was a seductive look. “I wanted to spend a little time with you. Do you mind?”
He took a step toward her, a broad grin spreading across his face. “I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about you, Em. A lot. I can’t get you off my mind.”
Suddenly nervous, she wondered again what Ben was up. Had he, too, somehow deciphered the code? Did he know that the map lay buried beneath the ground only a few feet from where they now stood? Unable to stop herself, she cast her gaze downward.
Play the role. Don’t let him guess the truth.
Turning coy, she lifted her chin and gave him a flirtatious gaze. “I’ve been thinking of you, too.”
He’s plotting to get rid of you. Don’t forget that fact!
The possibility that Benjamin Brooks could ever mean her harm was too preposterous to accept, yet Emily’s logical mind insisted she keep her wits about her. She must not allow him to sway her. Perhaps his recent attention toward her was no more than a clever ruse designed to gain her trust, to persuade her to lower her guard.
What should she do now?
Before she had time to think, Emily found herself literally swept off her feet, held in the strong, sure arms of the man she’d loved so much for so long. Her heart raced with a reckless beat. Unable to speak, she rested her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and gave in to the wondrous sensations rippling through her body. Warmth rushed from her fingertips to her toes. Every nerve in her body came alive.
“I swore I wouldn’t let this happen,” he growled against her cheek, his hot breath tickling and teasing. “Not yet. Not here. Not now.”
“It’s all right.” Reaching up, she smoothed a hand over his fiery hair, reveling in the coarse, wiry feel of it. “I don’t want to wait. Things happen when they’re supposed to. That’s what I’ve always believed.” Was she still playing a dangerous game? Or were these feelings real? Too real to be denied any longer? Emily could not be sure.
She heard his breath coming in quick, short bursts. “I believe it, too,” he whispered. “We’ve always known this was meant to be. We’re meant to be, Em.”
“Hmmm,” she murmured. Even though she loved hearing his words, and even though she wanted it to be true, a sudden sense of loss shot through her, leaving her trembling and afraid. How could he speak to her of what was meant to be after the way he’d treated her? He’d turned his back on her, had sent her away, had done everything in his power to sever the ties between them.
He’d broken her heart. Now, he wanted her to give her love to him? To surrender herself?
Of course she would give him what he wanted, all he wanted. She wanted it as much as he did. Maybe even more. Reclaiming Ben’s love should have given her a sense of victory, a feeling of having triumphed, of having fought and won.
But it didn’t.
All it did was bring up the old questions again. They clamored through her brain, and try as she might, she couldn’t shut them out.
A sudden emptiness engulfed Emily, one so deep and so profound that it seemed to swallow her whole.
When they reached the bunkhouse and Ben carried her to his bed, she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ben. I can’t do this. It’s all happening too fast.” She broke out in sobs and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Please,” she begged, “put me down.”
He set her on her feet at once, then reached for her hands. “I wasn’t trying to rush you, sweetheart. I’ll never press you to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“I know. I appreciate it.” She reached up, placed a finger to his lips, and traced the seductive outline of his mouth. “That’s not what this is about. Not exactly, I mean.” Turning away, she let out a heavy sigh. “I love you, Ben, and—” She paused. She’d been ready to tell him how much she wanted him, how she yearned to know the pleasures of lovemaking, but as before, all the questions rose up at once, drowning out her thoughts and her voice. “No, don’t say a word,” she cautioned, whirling around and once more lifting her hand to his face. “I don’t want to hear any words of love from you. I don’t want you to profess your feelings or make any foolish declarations.”
“Emily, I—”
“You need to listen to me. For weeks, you jerked me around emotionally. I feel like some silly pull toy, Ben. You grab the string and tow me along when it’s convenient for you, and then when something or someone more interesting comes along, you cast me aside.”
“That’s not how it is, and you know it. Don’t bring up all that foolishness about Della, please. I’ve told you what’s going on. I’ve got no interest in her. She means nothing to me.”
“I’m not so sure anymore.” She fought to hold back angry tears as she thought again of Della’s words and Ben’s quick agreement.
“Please, Em—” he began, but she cut him off again.
“You love me, you love me not. First you want me, then you don’t. You tell me one story after another, so how do you expect me to feel? You’ve got to be honest with me, Ben. Completely honest,” she added. “If we’re meant to be, we’ve got to talk to each other. You can’t be hiding facts, or feelings from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything.” He appeared genuinely puzzled and concerned. “I’ve told you about Della, about the gold.”
“You haven’t told me everything,” she countered, crossing her arms petulantly. “I heard you talking.”
“About what?”
“About getting rid of me. I was outside the bunkhouse, Ben. I know it’s wrong to eavesdrop, but I had to find out what was going on. You’re all three involved in this, aren’t you? You, Della, and your father. And someone else, too.” She shuddered. “Who is it, Ben? And why are you doing this? How could you join up with those…those criminals?”
He sank down on his knees in front of her and clasped her hands. “Emily, don’t you understand? I haven’t joined up with anybody. It’s an act,” he whispered, bringing his face close to hers. “It’s pretense. I have to make them believe I’m on their side. It’s the only way I can get the information I need.”
“What were you doing in the spring house?”
“My father swears the gold is buried there. He’s been searching for it but hasn’t found it. I thought I’d dig around a bit.”
Emily lifted her gaze. “That’s not where the gold is buried.”
“How would you know anything about the gold?”
“I broke the cipher.”
His golden eyes gleamed in the lamplight. He looked stricken. “I told you to stay out of this. Fo
r God’s sake, why can’t you listen?”
“Because I care about you, Ben. I love you, and I want to help you.” She looked away. “After all I heard, I was convinced you were one of the thieves. I was afraid you might find the gold, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t want to see you go to prison.”
“You were trying to protect me from myself?” He laughed softly. “Did you really figure out that crazy cipher? Do you know where to find the gold?”
What a marvelous feeling to see the admiration in his eyes. Unable to hold back a bit of pride, she smiled smugly and nodded. “Yes, I did. It was actually quite simple once I realized where to find the key.”
But Ben wasn’t interested in hearing how she’d solved the riddle, she quickly realized. He was interested in only one thing. The gold.
“Where is the treasure? Where did Love bury it?”
Emily bit her lip, unsure whether or not to confide in him. She yearned to trust him, but after all she’d seen, after all she’d heard, after all the awful doubts and suspicions she’d lived with since coming home from Denver, how could she put any faith in Benjamin Brooks? Loving a man made it far too easy to fall victim to little schemes and dishonesties. No woman wanted to think ill of her beloved.
“I solved the cipher, yes, but it doesn’t tell where the gold is buried. Not exactly, I mean. There’s a map,” she explained. “To find the gold, of course, we first have to—” She stopped short at the sound of footfalls outside the bunkhouse. “Ben,” she whispered, “someone’s out there. Someone’s listening.” Panic struck. Had she allowed herself to be lured into a trap? Sinking to her knees, she lifted her hands in a beseeching gestures. “Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Ben rushed toward her, threw his arms around her and pulled her into a secure embrace. “This is what I’ve feared all along. Don’t you understand? This is why I wanted you to stay in Denver. This is why I was upset when you came to work here. I don’t know how to keep you safe. I’m afraid. Please, go back home, Emily. Please. As soon as things are settled here, we’ll be together again. I promise.” His words ended on a note of desperation.
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