9781631054617HeLovesMeCole

by Christina Cole

  “Ben gave you the map.”

  “That’s right. And I’m about to become a very rich man.”

  She tried to recall all Ben had told her earlier about his plans, but confusion assailed her. Emily couldn’t remember any of it. She only remembered handing the map over to him. She remembered trusting him.

  No! It could not be. Even now, her beating heart refused to accept the possibility that Ben had, in fact, turned against her. His words came back to her now. He had spoken of a fake map, a clever forgery. She took a deep, cleansing breath and willed herself to remain calm—and as cooperative as possible. She realized she should play along.

  Brooks kept a tight hold on her even as he swung down from his horse. She wondered where Ben might be. Her gaze swept through the darkness, but she could see nothing beyond the small circle of lantern light surrounding them.

  “Once you get the gold, you and Ben are leaving, I suppose.” How accurate Della’s premonitions had been. John Brooks did indeed plan to cut Miss White out of the deal. As for her own role in this escapade, Emily could be certain of only one thing. She would stay alive only as long as John Brooks considered her useful. When her presence no longer served any purpose, he would get rid of her.

  The man said nothing more. All the while keeping a firm grip on Emily, he retrieved his lantern. Setting off on foot, he led her through the forest to a small clearing. His horse followed along behind.

  Brooks had already set up his work place. Emily noted a sturdy pick-ax and long-handled shovel along with several other implements. She glanced toward the ground knowing this must be where the fake map indicated the treasure lay buried.

  She had previously eluded the danger Lennie posed. Surely she could find a way to escape from Ben’s father, as well.

  Nothing under his hat but hair.

  She nearly laughed as she recalled Ben’s words. Yes, she could outwit him.

  Offering no resistance, she sat meekly as he tied her ankles together with thin strips of leather.

  “That will keep you from going anywhere,” he said with another ugly laugh. His whiskey-laden breath brushed against her cheek. She turned her face away.

  Even the coarse woolen blankets wrapped about her could not keep out the coldness of the night. She huddled beneath the filthy coverings. Along with the odor of urine and sweat, the blankets smelled, too, of her own fear. Emily shivered now as much from fright as from the inclement weather.

  Brooks shot her a sharp glance. “You cold?

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll get a fire going.”

  “Thank you.”

  Soon, flames flickered and glowed against the darkness, casting eerie shadows through the moonlit night and giving off a welcome warmth.

  John Brooks had surprised her with the unexpected act of kindness, but now, as she sat close to the burning logs, Emily felt nothing but abhorrence for the man. Seen through the sinister reddish haze of the firelight, he might have been the devil holding a shovel in place of his usual pitchfork. Mentally, she added horns and a forked tail. Indeed, she stared at Beelzebub himself.

  Quietly, patiently, she twisted and turned her ankles. The leather strips chafed against her skin, cutting through her woolen stockings, but gradually working loose. She glanced toward Brooks. He paid her no mind now. He had long since turned his full attention to his chore, striking first at the ground with the pick-ax, then after breaking through the frozen surface, using the shovel to turn over huge chunks of earth.

  The man had no clue that Emily’s limbs were free once more.

  Still, she remained seated. Although everything within her cried out for escape, she knew she wouldn’t get far. Earlier, Brooks had taken a shotgun from his saddle and laid it close by him, within easy reach. If she made any attempt to flee, she’d be dead before she’d gone two feet.

  She must wait for the right moment.

  Silently, shivering, she watched as he continued to dig. The shovel scraped against the cold, hard ground, turning up more thick clods of earth. Brooks would find nothing, she reminded herself. He didn’t have the actual map, only the carefully-crafted forgery Ben and Caleb Bryant had sketched out. For all his time and trouble, this gold-seeker would come away with only raw, blistered, bleeding hands—and more time behind bars, serving out the rest of his sentence.

  How much longer would Brooks keep digging? How much longer before he realized he’d been tricked? Emily’s heart rose to her throat. What would happen to her then?

  A sharp, metallic thunk caught her attention. Her gaze jerked up. An evil smile played across the devil’s mouth. A wicked laugh burst from his throat.

  To Emily’s horror, he bent down and clawed at the ground with his hands. With a malicious grin, he pulled out a rusted tin canister. Horror turned to absolute shock when he pried the lid from the tin.

  “Gold,” he said in a low, reverent voice. “Sweet, sweet gold.”

  Brooks dipped his hand into the canister, then drew it back again, his fist clutched. Still grinning like a Halloween jack o’lantern, he opened his hand to reveal what it held.

  Gold, indeed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emily’s jaw dropped. Ben had double-crossed her, after all. He’d lied to her face and handed the real map over to his father, not some clever fake that led nowhere.

  “You found it,” she said, looking up at him. “You must be very happy.” Indeed, his glee must rival her despair.

  “Well, Miss Phillips, I suppose this calls for a bit of celebration, wouldn’t you agree?” Crazed sounds—chortles, snorts, and a wild crowing—erupted from his throat. “Yes, indeed. That boy of mine came through, all right. I reckon he’ll be here soon.” Still clutching the gold in his fist, he stared off toward the northeast. “Just like a son, isn’t it? Let his father do all the hard work. Of course, there’s plenty more gold waiting to be dug up. I’m going to have myself a drink, sit back, and enjoy watching him work that shovel.”

  All the air went out of Emily’s lungs. She felt as though she were suffocating beneath the heavy weight of her own unintended complicity. She’d been the one to decode the cipher, the one who’d found the map. And she’d been the one foolish enough—trusting enough—to give it away again. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of all the lies Ben had told her.

  How could he be involved in something so awful?

  Like father, like son.

  The words echoed in her head. Emily took a deep breath. As a man of God might cast out demons, she exorcised those horrid thoughts. It was not true. Ben wasn’t involved. It simply was not possible. She couldn’t understand all that was going on, but in her heart, she knew she must hold fast to the faith she’d placed in Benjamin Brooks.

  “The love of money,” she said dully as the man returned and took a seat close to the fire. “It truly is the root of all evil.”

  John Brooks got up again and walked a short distance away to where his sorrel was tethered to a scrawny pine. He opened the saddlebag and drew out a flask. Rotgut, Emily guessed.

  “You’re right about that,” he replied, pulling the stopper from the flask. He poured a small measure into a tin cup. A low laugh rumbled from his throat. “Money rules this world. Men will do desperate things to get it, and even more desperate things to keep it.”

  “Is that why you killed Frank Lundy back in Kansas City?” Emily had been very young when John Brooks first showed up in Colorado fleeing from the law. She didn’t know all the particulars of his crimes, only that he’d shot a man in cold blood.

  His features hardened. “Lundy owed me a lot of money. Money I won fair and square at the gambling tables. When a man won’t pay his debts, he’s asking for trouble.” He took a swallow from the cup, then shook his head. “Never mind about Lundy. That’s past history. All over and done with. Time to move on now.”

  “How did you get out of prison?”

  He threw a harsh look her way. “Inquisitive little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Ju
st making conversation.”

  “Yeah, well, like I told you, money rules this world. It’s a law unto itself, and no man’s above it. Not even those who swear to uphold the laws society makes for itself.”

  “You made a bargain? Is that what you’re saying?” Of course. It all fell into place now. Judge Morse was the missing piece of the puzzle, the man Ben had refused to name. The judge deserved to be impeached. If she managed to get through this night alive, she silently vowed, she would see that formal charges were leveled against him.

  Brooks chuckled. His brows lifted. “Maybe you’re smarter than I gave you credit for. Yeah, that’s the size of it. Once I told the judge I knew where to find Joe Love’s gold, he jumped at the chance, wrote my release orders, and struck a fine deal with me. I get my freedom as well as the gold —“

  “What does Judge Morse get?”

  “Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” Brooks crowed. “I already gave him a little warning.” He poured himself another shot of whiskey, then swallowed it down. “Damned fool judge ought to know better than to trust the likes of me. It’s greed, you see. Like I said, money rules the world, and it serves the man right.” He rocked back on his heels. “I like to think there’s justice on this earth, and I’m part of it, you see. Men like Judge Morse always get what they deserve.”

  Disgust roiled through her. Every last doubt fell away. Ben had nothing to do with his father’s horrendous schemes. She knew, too, that she was in serious danger with little likelihood of getting out alive. She had no idea how Brooks had managed to locate the gold, but his success spelled certain disaster for her. He had no reason now to keep her alive.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, her voice a bare whisper in the night.

  “You already know the answer to that one. Going to be a real shame to get rid of you, Miss Phillips.”

  She stiffened. “No, you don’t have to do that! I’ll never tell anyone, I swear. You know I care about Benjamin. I—I love him. I’d never turn him in or do anything to hurt him.”

  “You expect me to believe you? I’d be a damned fool. You’d run right to the sheriff soon as our backs were turned, and don’t tell me otherwise.”

  A tremor shook her. She tried another ploy. “Benjamin won’t let you kill me. He loves me.”

  Brooks cocked his head. “Is that what you think? Oh, I don’t doubt that’s what he’s told you. Men will say anything to get what they want, honey. Didn’t your Mama ever teach you that?” He took another swig of whiskey. “Benny won’t have any need for you, girl. With gold in his pocket, he’ll be able to buy himself all the affection he wants. Lots of pretty señoritas down Mexico way, you know.”

  “That’s where you’re headed, I suppose. You and Ben both.”

  “That’s right.” He turned away, grabbed his shotgun from the ground, and hefted it to his shoulder. “But, maybe you’re right. Might be that Benny would raise a fuss about me shooting you. Best that I do it now before he gets here.”

  “No, please! You don’t want to do that.”

  “And why’s that?”

  Emily fought back the tears that burned behind her eyelids. The odds were against her. She’d never get away. She would be dead before sunrise. But she wouldn’t cry. Neither would she give up.

  She must come up with another clever ruse, one that John Brooks would fall for. Tricking him would be a bit more challenging than fooling the half-wit who’d abducted her earlier. She would have to find—and use—his weakness against him.

  Greed.

  Emily pressed her lips together. As the man himself had told her, money ruled the world.

  “You don’t want to kill me, Mr. Brooks, because…because…” Inspiration struck. “You aren’t going to find any more gold. You’ve only found a small tin. That’s all that’s buried here.” She nodded toward the excavation site. “Joe Love didn’t bury his gold all in one place. The map Ben gave you…” Once more she wracked her brain, searching for a credible falsehood. “It’s only part of the treasure. There’s another map. It shows all the locations.”

  “What are you prattling on about now?” He lowered the shotgun and stared at her. “You don’t know anything about the gold.”

  “Oh, but I do.” Her smile broadened. “In fact, I know more than you. Actually, I was the one who found the map. Didn’t Ben tell you that?” Unbelievably, the same smugness returned. She had a head on her shoulders. She knew how to use it. She deserved some credit, at least.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Desperation made her bold. Despite the coldness of the night, sweat poured from every pore of her body. She had to come up with a good story, a plausible one, and she had to do it fast. “What do you think I was doing out here, Mr. Brooks? Did you think I was out on a pleasant evening stroll?” She knew by the puzzled expression he wore that she’d captured his attention. “I came out here to get my own share of the treasure.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, if I were you.” Thank goodness he hadn’t bound her wrists! Her canvas bag was still slung over her shoulder. Moving beneath the blanket, she slipped her hand inside the bag and pulled out the drawstring pouch. Filled with the money she’d earned in recent weeks, its weight felt solid and reassuring in her hand. Emily smiled, held up the pouch, and then shook it. The coins inside jingled with a lovely, lilting sound. She kept her eyes on his face, watching as his expression changed. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I do know where the rest of the gold is. I know where all of it is. I can show you where it’s buried…unless, of course, you kill me.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” She dangled the pouch from a forefinger, letting it swing slowly back and forth like a pendulum. “I’ve heard it said that life’s a game, Mr. Brooks, and it’s all about how well you play the hand you’re dealt. Maybe you don’t think there’s any gold in here. Maybe you think I’m putting on an act. I’m not.”

  He brought the shotgun up, aimed it at her forehead, then lowered it again.

  He squinted toward her. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  “See for yourself.” She swung her arm back, then let the pouch fly from her grasp. It smacked the man on the forehead with a resounding thwack. He didn’t drop the shotgun, but for a moment the blow threw him off-balance. At once Emily clambered to her feet. She dashed toward the safety of an outcropping, thankful for the shelter it would provide—if she could reach it.

  “Damned bitch!” Blood poured from the gash in the man’s forehead, trickling down into his eyes. “You don’t fool me. Think you’re so clever, do you?” He was after her at once. Even drunk, his movements were swift and certain. He caught her within seconds. Her escape had led nowhere. Holding her with one arm at her throat, he dragged her back to where she had been tied up, and searched the ground, finding the leather strips that had once bound her ankles. “No wonder my boy’s taken such a shine to you, gal. You’re a real little spitfire.”

  A rustling in the distance caught Emily’s attention. Brooks heard it, too. Startled, he jumped back, quickly pulling her with him. She gasped as his arm pressed against her throat, cutting off her breath.

  A big Appaloosa appeared from between the trees, galloping recklessly toward them.

  “Ben—”

  Glancing toward the noises coming from the brush, she attempted to cry out, but no sound emerged. A chill ran down her spine. Again the question came. Had Ben tricked her? Was it possible he’d lied to her about everything? Her breath heaved in and out, and she willed herself to remain alert, not lose consciousness.

  “Well, Benny, it’s about damned time you showed up.” His father sneered. “I went to a lot of trouble, you know. Now, you’re thinking you can just ride up here, take the gold for yourself? Well, that’s not going to happen.” He laughed and glared up at his son who still sat in the saddle. “Get yourself down from that damned high horse you’re on, and go dig up the rest o
f that gold.”

  “Not until you let her go. She’s done nothing to hurt you.”

  * * * *

  Ben reined up, keeping his eyes fixed on his father and on the girl with him. Damn it to hell and back! What was Emily doing here? She was supposed to be safe at the Henderson house with the doors and windows securely locked. Later, she’d have a lot of explaining to do. At the moment, he didn’t have time to ask any questions or figure out any answers.

  Her face paled as his father jerked his arm tighter across her throat.

  “Damned females are always trouble, son. You don’t need her. Once we get across the border, you’ll have all the señoritas you want. Sweet, dark-skinned beauties.” A hungry look glinted in his eyes. “Long dark hair, luscious ruby lips. Women who are made to please a man.” He spat toward the ground then sneered at Emily. “I don’t know what you see in this skinny, lily-white gal. Looks like a piece of that damned porcelain china your mother used to prize. She like that, Benny? Put her on a shelf, don’t touch her, elsewise she’s liable to break?”

  Ben forced himself to look away from his father long enough to exchange a quick glance with Emily. Although all color was drained from her face and terror gleamed in her huge blue eyes, he could tell at once that she still had her wits about her. When all was said and done, Emily Sue Phillips was not the sort who would panic even under the most challenging circumstances. He had to give her credit.

  He turned his attention back to his father, desperately searching for the right strategy to use with the man.

  “Forget her,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. “Did you find the gold?”

  “Some, yes. But there’s more. A hell of a lot more. I’m tired of digging, Benny. Like I said, you need to get down and get started.”