by Cindy Gerard
“Boys, if you haven’t figured it out already, the story of the James Gang’s gold is a tall tale I fabricated to keep you entertained—and out of your mother’s hair and mine.”
She stopped, a catch in her voice.
“Go ahead. It’s okay.” He nodded. Sloan could almost hear the smile in Jonathan James’s written word. “Go ahead.”
She took a deep breath, read on.
“It worked, too, we’ve never had to wonder where you are or what you’re doing—your search for the gold—always the gold—has been keeping you busy.
“So, anyway, it was me who planted the coin in the river. With your mother’s help, we contrived the map—hid the lockbox in the mountains. And it was me, not Jesse of old, who signed the note that led you to this, your final discovery.”
Sloan raised her gaze to Jesse’s, found him staring at the coin clasped in his palm, a thoughtful, faraway look in his eyes.
She continued, caught up in the story and needing to hear the rest of Jesse’s father’s words as much as he did.
“I hope you’ve had as much fun searching as we’ve had setting this up. And I hope it’s been a lesson learned.
“Garrett, I have watched you grow here in these mountains. I’ve watched your pragmatic, logical approach to life and have seen the strength of the man you will become. Clay—always the orderly one, you organized the searches, lead the charge making me confident that you, too, will find your own way in this big old world.
“Jesse . . .”
Sloan stopped, swallowed, and with tears thick in her throat, read on.
“My wild child. I’ve watched you live for your dreams and damn the consequences. You’ve shown me what you’re made of, son, and I hope all your searches lead you exactly where you want to be.
“So. . . if this played out right, there’s a coin for each of you. Don’t spend them all in one place, okay? Oh. . . and I almost forgot—the lesson learned. The first note says it all, boys. A wise man’s treasure is sweeter than any gold. Remember that always.
“See you for supper, boys . . . And next summer, we’ll take that canoe trip you’ve been badgering me about all year.
Love,
Dad.”
Sloan closed her eyes. Bit back tears. She thought of the love in Jonathan James’s words and the summer that had never come. “Oh, Jesse.”
“Shh.” Jesse pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right.”
And it was all right, Jesse realized with a sense of completion that had settled bone deep.
The breath he took was cleansing. His arms around Sloan were steady and solid and strong.
“He was a wise man, my father. And he knew. He knew I would search until I found the one thing that would make my life everything I need it to be.
“You, Sloan.” He pulled back, brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, saw the love, saw his life through her eyes. He pressed the gold coin, warm from the heat of his body, precious for what it represented, into her palm. “You are what I was searching for. You are everything important. My life, my home . . . it all starts and ends with you.”
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5799-3
THE OUTLAW JESSE JAMES
Copyright © 1999 by Cindy Gerard
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