She nearly believed him.
Determined not to be tricked by sweet his sweet lies and promises, she pulled herself from his embrace.
“No. I’m not going anywhere, Ben,” she said in a voice thick with resolve. “Like it or not, I’m staying.”
Without looking back, she hurried to the door. When she opened it, she quickly closed it again and turned to Benjamin. “It’s your father.”
“Headed for the spring house?”
“Yes.” She grasped Ben’s hand. “You’ve got to stop him. What if he finds the map?” She’d given it all away, she realized. Emily groaned.
“The map is hidden in the spring house.”
“I don’t know for sure, Ben. I could be wrong.”
“Not likely. But how did you get the cipher?” He walked to the desk, pulled open the drawer and took out the folded sheet. “I have it here.”
Emily hesitated. Could she lie to him, tell him she’d made a mistake, that she’d been leading him on? No, it wasn’t in her nature to be untruthful. She might be mischievous at times, she might enjoy teasing, even a bit of taunting, but lying was not a skill she possessed. Ben would see through her in a second.
“I snuck in one morning, found the cipher, and I copied down the numbers.” She gave him an impish smile. “Really, Ben, a drawer with a false bottom isn’t exactly a clever hiding place. It was very easy to spot.”
Ben remained silent for a moment, staring. “I have to do something. I can’t let my father find that map.”
“No, that would be the worst thing that could happen.”
More doubts reared their ugly heads inside her mind. Was Ben working with Della, planning to cut his father out of the deal? Her thoughts spun with evil possibilities.
“I need the map. Tell me where to find it.” Ben placed a hand on her arm, holding her fast. “Tell me exactly where it is.”
“No. I can’t. I won’t.” She shook her arm free. “I have to go now.”
* * * *
Emily jerked free of his grasp and hurried from the bunkhouse. Ben watched her, unsure if he should go after her, go to his father, or just shut the door, turn out the light and try to get a bit of sleep. The strain upon him increased each day. His nerves were ragged, his muscles taut, and every time he thought he might have an answer, somebody threw a wicked curved ball his way. Such practices were considered dishonest in the sport of baseball, and somebody ought to make the practice illegal in ordinary matters, too.
He huffed out a breath. Although he could do little to remedy the situation with Emily, a great deal of opportunity existed where his father was concerned. First and foremost, he had to be sure his father didn’t get his hands on the map to Joe Love’s treasure.
“Damn it, Pa,” he said as he stepped into the spring house. “You’re going to get us all in hot water. If you’ve got to come out here and go treasure-hunting, can’t you at least wait for a better time? Emily saw you,” he added. Immediately he regretted it.
His father chuckled. “So, that sweet little thing giving you a good time?” He leaned forward, resting on the handle of the shovel in his hands.
“Leave her out of this.” Leave me out of this too. Ben wanted no part of the whole messy business, but he couldn’t walk away from it now. Not until he’d righted the wrongs he saw before him. He didn’t give a damn about Joe Love’s stolen loot, but he wouldn’t stand idly by while corrupt bargains allowed men like his father to roam free.
Again, John Brooks laughed. “You can’t fool your old man, son. You haven’t got yourself a piece of tail yet, and don’t try to tell me otherwise.” He shook his head in an expression of exaggerated sorrow. “Makes me downright ashamed, you know. I haven’t been a good father, haven’t had a chance to teach you about the facts of life. If I’d been around, Benny, instead of being stuck in that damned hell-hole, I’d have made sure you lost your virginity at a proper age.” He clucked like an old hen. “Not right for a fellow to reach his majority and never have a woman to warm his bed.”
“What I do is nobody’s business but mine.”
“Don’t give me that shit, boy.” His father straightened and turned to him with a hard look. “I reckon I can see where you’d be a bit embarrassed by the situation, but no need for that. We can fix matters easily enough.” He carried the shovel to the corner and laid it against the stone wall. “Come back to town with me now. We’ll head over to the Mule and—”
“I’m not interested.”
“You truly don’t know what you’re missing.”
Ben kept his mouth shut. His father’s remarks didn’t deserve a response, in his opinion.
“Listen, boy, I want you to ride back with me.” He came to his son and clapped an arm over his shoulder. “If you’re so damned insistent about saving yourself for that tight-assed little blonde bitch, so be it. I think you’re a fool, and I’ve got a feeling someday you’ll come to regret it. Someday you’ll probably look back on this time of your life and kick yourself mighty hard for not getting all you could when you had the chance. Shame to let opportunities pass you by, that’s all I’m saying.” He held up a hand, indicating an end to that topic of conversation.
As before, Ben remained silent.
“I need you to ride into Sunset with me for other reasons.”
The words now were bold and forthright. Ben heard a coldness behind them. His muscles tensed. He stood as still as death itself, waiting for his father to speak again.
“That’s why I came out here tonight.” The man stared down at his son. “I didn’t come here to dig for that damned gold. I came to talk to you. I figured out real quick that you had that gal with you, so I backed off and came in here.”
“What do you want?”
“We need to move this little enterprise forward.”
Ben narrowed his gaze, not understanding his father’s intent. “How do you plan to do that? You’ve got no idea where the gold is, Pa. You’ve got nothing more than a few mumbled words from a dying man. And who’s to say whether your buddy Chet even knew what he was talking about. Maybe he was delirious at the end. Maybe he was out of his head. Or maybe he was just pulling one last con.”
His father nodded. “I’ve considered those possibilities. Could be you’re right, son. That’s part of the problem, you see.”
Suddenly, Ben did see. With a startling clarity, he understood the precarious position in which his father had placed himself. He’d been set free—but at a great cost. His agreement with the judge meant he had to come through and produce that treasure, otherwise there would be hell to pay.
“Judge Morse is likely to haul your sorry ass back to jail. Is that what this is all about?” He shrugged. “Why not just leave, Pa? Head out. Ride on to Mexico, live a good life across the border with all those pretty señoritas you’re always talking about.”
“I’ve considered that, too.” He pushed his hat back. Over the years, his hair had thinned. He raked his fingers through what remained, then put the hat on again.
Ben felt an odd emotion stirring, something that almost touched on sympathy. His father was a proud, vain man. And he was becoming an old man. His balding pate spoke of age, of the vulnerability all men must face with the passing of time. He was no longer young, no longer virile, no longer strong and cocksure.
“I won’t say anything, if that’s what’s eating at you.” Ben swallowed back a lump in his throat. He didn’t like to make any promises where his father was concerned, but the words jumped out anyway. “Go on, Pa. Get out while you can. I don’t agree with what you’ve done or how you’ve gone about it, but fate’s set you up with a second chance. Why not take it?”
“Why not? I’ll tell you why the hell not. I won’t live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, nor do I fancy having to work to make my way. I’m tired, Ben. I want to take it easy now, and I’m damned sure not going to turn my back and walk away from a fortune that’s so close I can practically smell it.”
“You don
’t know where it is,” Ben reminded him. “There’s close to forty acres on this farm, Pa. You plan to dig all that land up? And who’s to say that Love buried his gold on his own place? That gold could be anywhere.”
“It’s here, son.” He pointed down to the hard ground of the spring house. “Chet said it’s buried in the spring house.”
Ben now knew his father was close to the truth. According to Emily, the treasure itself wasn’t here, but the information on how to find it lay somewhere beneath their feet. He couldn’t let his father find the hidden map.
“You can’t dig up the damned spring house. At least not without getting caught. If Tom finds out you’re hanging around, he’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“I know, I know. Don’t get your knickers in a wad, boy. That’s where you come in. You’re going to do the digging for me.”
“Pa, I—”
“Don’t go telling me you’re too busy or whatever else you’re about to say. I want that gold, and I want it as soon as possible. I’ve already got that stupid judge breathing down my neck. I don’t need any guff from you.”
“What’s Morse doing?”
“He’s making some nasty threats. If I don’t deliver the gold real soon…” He looked away. “I’m out of time, Benny, don’t you understand?”
“Not really.”
“I need you to saddle up, ride back with me. We’ll hang out at the Mule for a time, have us a few drinks. Then we’ll go take care of business. I need you to watch my back, son. Damn, but it’s the least you can do, don’t you think?”
“Watch your back? Take care of business?” What the hell was his father…? Ben backed away, shaking his head. “No, Pa. Don’t do it. You think getting rid of Judge Morse is going to solve anything?”
“It’s got to be done.”
“No, I won’t be part of this.”
His father crossed the spring house with long, swift strides, grabbed him by the collar and pressed him up against the wall. “You are part of this, and don’t you forget it. I won’t have my own flesh and blood acting like some puny, weak-willed, yellow-bellied coward. Man up, son.”
As a boy, Ben had been too small, too slight. He’d been no match for his overbearing father. Now, despite his father’s words to the contrary, Benjamin Brooks was, indeed, a man. One blow from his fist would send his father reeling. A few well-placed punches would probably put the fellow in his grave—or damned close to it.
He bit his lip and resisted the urge to strike out. Instead, he pushed at his father’s shoulder, forcing him back.
“Well, it’s about time you showed some gumption.” John Brooks nodded. “Now, let me spell things out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. Judge Morse is what you call a walking dead man. You get my drift? He made a bad bargain, and he’s got to pay. Even if we laid our hands on that gold tomorrow, it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. I don’t need him anymore, Ben. I’ve got what I want from him. He’s a liability.”
“I see.” Ben nodded, rubbing his jaw. “You really think you’re going to get away with this?”
“Oh, we’ll get away, all right.” He grinned. “It’ll be just me, you, and a fortune in gold.”
“What about Della?” No need to ask such a foolish question, Ben realized, his blood turning cold. Like Judge Morse, Della was one more liability. “Never mind. I know the answer.”
His father laughed. “Now, we can’t waste any time. We’ve got to get busy. I’ll take care of the more…unsavory aspects of the plan.” He licked his lips, almost as if enjoying the thought of committing more murders. “As for you, Benny, well, you need to get those damned Hendersons off the property.”
“Tom owns the property, Pa. He’s not going anywhere.”
“We’ll see about that. You need to get rid of Miss Phillips, too.” He pointed to the shovel in the corner. “The real job is to start digging. I’ll do my part, son. I’m counting on you to do yours.”
Chapter Thirteen
Ben went through the motions, waiting until his father finally skulked away. Once alone, he threw down the shovel and spat at the dirt. Like his father, he, too, was running out of time. He had to act fast. If he stood by and allowed his father to commit murder, the guilt would be on his head as well. He’d never meant to become a true conspirator or an accessory to any actual crimes.
He stepped out from the spring house, and as he shut the door behind him, he wished he could bolt up the place to prevent anyone from ever setting foot in it again. But things had been set in motion, and he had to see this through. He took in a deep breath of air and considered possible options.
Maybe he should warn Tom, tell him to take his family and go away. Maybe he should meet with Sheriff Bryant and spill all he knew. No matter what decision he made, he’d be putting his life at risk. Ben could live with that fact.
But he sure as hell wouldn’t let anything happen to Emily. She had to go.
He glanced toward the darkened house, then stealthily crept up onto the porch. He knew she slept in the front bedroom. The Hendersons slept at the back of the house. With luck, he could get Emily’s attention without disturbing anyone else.
Ben rapped at the window, pressing his face against the pane to catch a glimpse of the sleeping beauty. He tapped a little louder, then when she stirred beneath the blanket, he drew back, suddenly realizing the flaws in his plan. He didn’t want her waking up to find someone staring at her through the glass. All he would succeed in doing would be frightening her. He’d have to find another way to get her attention.
For a time, he stood quietly on the porch, mulling over other ideas. He could think of no way to rouse her from sleep without scaring her out of her wits. Ben smiled as an unlikely but intriguing possibility crossed his mind.
He’d often heard that lovers shared a special bond, that when feelings ran deep enough, a man and a woman could communicate without words. They could actually become so close, they would be as one, knowing each other’s thoughts. Of course, he and Emily weren’t truly lovers in the fullest sense, but the depth of their emotions could not be denied. Quite simply, they were meant to be.
Closing his eyes, he pictured her as he’d seen her moments before, sleeping soundly, her golden hair spread out across her pillow, a soft, dreamy smile tugging at her lips. Was she thinking of him, perhaps?
With every bit of his spirit, he willed her to awaken, to come to him. He held his breath, letting the strong pounding beat of his heart speak for him. Each pulse murmured her name. Every breath carried thoughts of his love for her.
His eyes closed. He lost track of time. Maybe only a moment or two passed, or maybe he stood there longer. A keen anticipation came over him, a feeling akin to pins and needles in every muscle and limb. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the glow of lamp light shining from the window. Emily was no longer sleeping.
Ben smiled when the door opened and the love of his life stepped out onto the porch. She wore a long sleeping gown and a thick robe of quilted silk, adorned with wreaths of embroidered flowers.
She showed no surprise to find him at the doorstep. “It wasn’t a dream,” she whispered. “You’re really here.”
“Yes, I’m here. I have to see you. I have to talk to you.” He reached for her hands, desperate to touch her, to assure himself that she was real. In so many ways, Emily was his dream, but now they found themselves caught up in a nightmare. He had to alert her to the dangers she faced.
Emily cast a backward glance over her shoulder. “I can’t ask you to come in,” she said. “If Tom and Lucille woke up…” She left the thought unfinished.
“Come to the bunkhouse with me.” He drew her close. “Hurry inside. Put out the lamp, then come with me. Tom and Lucille won’t wake up. They’ll never know.”
Emily studied his face in silence then nodded. She did as he asked, and after returning to her room and blowing out the lamp, she slipped outside once again.
Hand in hand, they hurried to the bunkhou
se. Despite her willingness to join him, Emily was nevertheless quite ill at ease. Ben could tell. He saw it in the stiffness of her shoulders, and in the way her lips pressed together.
“What’s this all about?” Her beautiful blonde tresses fell across her shoulders in lovely disarray. He eyelids seemed heavy yet with sleep. “I was dreaming about you,” she said, suddenly turning shy and looking away. “I was dreaming that you came into my room, that you were watching me sleep. It seemed so real.”
So very close to the truth. Ben marveled at the realization that lovers truly could be so closely attuned to one another.
“I didn’t come into the house. That much was only a dream. But I was thinking of you.” He reached up and laid his hand at her cheek. “Emily, listen to me, and please, don’t argue. You need to go home.”
At once, she stepped back and shook her head. “I’ve told you before, I’m not leaving.”
“My father— ” He stopped, unable, or maybe unwilling to speak his father’s murderous plans aloud. To do so would make them too real, as though acknowledging them would ensure they happened. “It’s too dangerous for you to stay here. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need you looking out for me, protecting me, thinking you’re some sort of guardian.” She crossed her arms, blocking Ben’s sweet view of her breasts. “I know what this is all about. You want me to tell you where to find the map.”
He shrugged. “I can’t force you to tell me, but it doesn’t make any difference, really. I know it’s buried somewhere in the spring house. I can find it myself.”
“Yes, I suppose you can.” She sighed and gazed up at him. “Were you truly thinking of me, Ben? Before I woke up, I mean.”
“I was. Of course, if I’m honest, I have to admit I’m always thinking about you.” He reached for her again, running his hands through her hair. This time, she didn’t pull away.
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