by BJ Daniels
“McLeod, didn’t you hear what he just said about getting the ranch, and soon?”
Cooper wished she hadn’t gone back to calling him “McLeod” so soon. “I just wonder why he’s trying too hard to prove to you that he’s your brother, especially if he has a will.”
“Because he’s not my brother, nor is his will any more legitimate than he is,” she said angrily. “My father died six months ago, the ranch is tied up in probate and I haven’t been able to find the will he told me he wrote, leaving everything to me.”
“He didn’t leave it with his attorney?”
Delaney looked at him askance. “His attorney?” She laughed. “Hank Lawson was a rodeo cowboy. He didn’t have an attorney. Or an accountant. Or even a safetydeposit box at the bank. He lived out of a travel trailer he dragged around the country with an old pickup truck. But I’m sure you, if anyone, would understand that.”
“Me?”
She brushed her hair from her face and looked away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you remind me a lot of my father.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this. “Because we both rodeo?”
She studied him for a moment, her eyes dark and troubled. “He was handsome like you.” She smiled. “Don’t act as though you’re surprised to hear that you’re handsome.” She narrowed her gaze at him as she searched his face. “And Hank was charming, and funny, and…sexy like you.” She laughed when he raised an eyebrow at the last. Then she looked away. “Unfortunately, he broke my mother’s heart and didn’t do a half-bad job on mine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He leaned toward her and heard her breath catch in her throat. As he handed her the photocopies of the letters, he noticed a slight tremble to her fingers as she took them. It struck him that she was afraid of him. He frowned. “You know not every cowboy who rides the rodeo abandons his family for the sport.”
She almost looked as if she wanted to believe that.
He glanced around the homey kitchen, thinking about Ty Drummond. “A bastard son who can prove paternity could get a portion of the estate,” he said quietly. “Or even if he isn’t your brother, Ty could get everything if the will he has from your father is legitimate. Unless you can come up with a more recent will your father had witnessed and dated.”
“You almost sound like a lawyer.”
Those dark eyes of hers seemed to penetrate him.
“Who are you really, Cooper McLeod?”
He shook his head and summoned up a grin, hoping it would mollify her. “Isn’t it bad enough I’m a rodeo cowboy? Now you think I’m a lawyer?”
She laughed. “What I don’t think you are is a ranch hand.”
He tried to appear crushed. “I guess I’ll just have to work harder at it,” he answered truthfully.
A movement caught his eye outside the kitchen window. “Looks like you have another visitor.”
Delaney moaned and moved over to the window to see. A frown creased her brow and real worry etched itself in her expression. “Oh, no, it’s Tess.” Delaney bolted for the front door. Cooper ran after her. They reached the ranch yard as an old mule came trotting up.
Delaney hurried to it, running her hand along its neck, hugging the animal to her. “Oh, God.” Delaney scanned the empty road and Cooper saw the same worry and fear he’d witnessed earlier when they’d found the drugged horses. “We have to find Digger.”
“Digger?” He followed after her as she took the mule into the barn, gave it food and water, then grabbed her rifle from the tack room and her doctoring bag.
“I suppose you’re coming with me.” She didn’t wait for an answer.
He pulled his rifle from the scabbard, wondering what kind of trouble hunting for Digger was going to get them in and limped after her.
“If anything has happened to Digger…” Delaney muttered as she headed for a pickup parked by the barn.
They were in the truck tearing down the dirt road, when Cooper asked, “Who’s Digger?”
Delaney glanced over at him as if she’d forgotten he’d come along. “Digger O’Donnel. His camp is up near Hogback Mountain.” She stared ahead at the road. Beyond it the horizon had turned lavender in the twilight. “Digger and Tess are inseparable. For Tess to come home like that—”
Home? Cooper heard the break in Delaney’s voice. Whoever Digger was, he meant a great deal to her. How many men did this woman have in her life anyway? Cooper wondered.
“Digger has to be in trouble,” she said quietly, not even trying to hide her fear. Or the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
Cooper watched the road ahead, worried that whoever this Digger was, he’d met with one of the Rockin’ L’s notorious accidents.
Chapter Four
A cool darkness had settled in the pines by the time Delaney stopped the pickup in the middle of the mountain road. Without a word, she jumped out, turned the hubs into fourwheel drive and slid back into the cab. Then she pulled onto what could only be called a Jeep trail.
Dark pine boughs closed around the pickup, reminding Cooper of the close confines of a car wash. He squirmed uneasily. “Just exactly who is this Digger we’re looking for?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the patch of road he could see in the headlights, for fear of what would appear around the next curve. His claustrophobia and Delaney’s anxiety were making him jumpy. That and the feeling that they were riding into something nasty just, as they had the drugged horses on the mountain earlier.
The pickup climbed at a crawl, bumping over large boulders that formed the roadbed. Delaney gripped the wheel, all her concentration on the road. Worry made her eyes darker than the coming night and her expression bleak.
“Digger O’Donnel is a prospector,” she said after a moment. She seemed to loosen her grip on the wheel a little. “He pans for gold, but mostly just wanders the mountains with Tess.”
“Gold?” Cooper asked, trying not to let his surprise show.
“Digger used to work one of my grandfather’s claims with a friend of his, Gus Halbrook. They were in their early twenties when they met my grandfather, Del Henry Lawson. It was the 1930s and some of the mines around here had been reopened. My grandfather, who was by then in his late fifties, hired Digger and Gus to work the Golden Dream.”
“Did they strike it rich?” Cooper asked, more than a little curious.
Delaney carefully eased the pickup over two large boulders before she answered. “To hear Digger tell it. He swears they found the mother lode.” She glanced over at Cooper. “But then, Digger has no money to show for it if they did.”
“What about your grandfather?” Cooper asked. “He must have found some gold originally to buy this ranch.”
Delaney laughed. “My grandfather married a young woman with money. Grandmother helped him start the Rockin’ L after his mining claims on the land proved to be near worthless.”
“But Digger says they found the mother lode?”
She turned her attention back to the road. “You see Digger is…well, his mind kind of…snapped when his friend Gus was killed in a cave-in long before I was born.”
“This mine that caved in is the one Digger said was the mother lode?” Cooper asked. “The Golden Dream?”
She nodded. “I think that’s the only way Digger can accept what happened. My grandfather said they found a small vein of gold but it quickly petered out. Unfortunately Gus kept working the mine on his own time, obsessed with the belief that it was the elusive mother lode. Gus didn’t take the time to shore up the walls adequately and was killed in a cave-in.”
She let out a sigh. “After that my grandfather closed the mine, blasting the entrance so no one else would get killed in it. The Golden Dream is gone in more ways than one. I doubt even Digger remembers where it was.”
Cooper turned to stare at her. “You don’t know where the mine is?”
She shook her head. “There are so many mines on the ranch. None of them is worth anything.”
“That’s interesting,”
Cooper said, without thinking. He tried to remember what he’d heard about the area. It had been gold country, that was for sure. Confederate Gulch and its tributaries weren’t far from the Rockin’ L, and they’d produced millions of dollars in gold back in the 1800s.
Delaney must have heard interest in his tone. They’d just topped a small rise, the pines dense and dark, the road nothing but rocks.
“You’re not getting any romantic ideas about finding the missing mother lode, are you?”
Suspicion put an edge on her words. She sounded as if she’d expect just about anything from him, as long as it was bad.
Cooper laughed. “I’m a cowboy, not a gold miner. Anyway, there is no mother lode, right?”
“Right.”
He could feel her watching him out of the corner of her eye.
“We’re almost there.”
Cooper stared ahead, thinking about gold, missing mines and an old prospector who swore he’d found the mother lode—and was now maybe missing himself. Everything about the Rockin’ L was turning out to be a surprise, Cooper realized with growing concern.
They dropped into a ravine and Delaney slowed as the truck’s headlights illuminated a makeshift lean-to built of tarps and log poles. An iron skillet hung from a nail on one of the poles. Near it a cracked mirror reflected the light from the headlights.
“My grandfather built Digger a cabin not far from here, but he prefers this except in the dead of winter,” Delaney lamented, obviously unable to understand.
Cooper stared at the camp. It resembled many he’d spent time in. “There is nothing like being able to see the stars at night,” he said as Delaney brought the pickup to a stop.
She reached under the seat for a flashlight. Her fingers shook as she fumbled to turn it on. Cooper took it from her. His hand brushed her wrist and he could feel her pulse pounding. “If he’s around here, we’ll find him.”
She nodded and swallowed. He opened his door and heard her do the same. They walked into the sparse camp. It appeared as if its occupant had just left for a moment. A worn bedroll was spread in the pine needles beneath the tarp. A striped pillow lay on top of it beside a dog-eared goldmining book.
Cooper checked the fire pit. It was cold.
“Did you hear that?” Delaney whispered.
He listened. Night had dropped into the ravine and Digger O’Donnel’s camp. The air felt cold and brittle, as if warning that fall wasn’t far away.
“Over there.” Delaney pointed into the dense pines. “I heard something, over there.”
Cooper started to shine the flashlight into the trees, when he heard it, too. A moan. He flicked the beam across the dark boughs, then brought it back to what looked like a bundle of clothing piled next to a tree trunk.
“Digger!” Delaney cried, and scrambled toward the heap.
Cooper hurried after her, pointing the way with the light. She dropped to the ground beside the ragged bundle, speaking in a hushed tone.
Cooper shone the flashlight for her, afraid they’d arrived too late. A weathered old man lay against the tree trunk, his eyes closed. He wore a hunting cap and overalls beneath a ragged coat. His head was tilted at a strange angle, his mouth drooped open.
“Oh, Digger,” Cooper heard Delaney cry as she cupped the man’s ancient face in her hands. Cooper noted with shock that there were tracks in the pine needles where he’d dragged himself for some distance, obviously trying to get back to his camp.
Cooper knelt beside the pair. He was sure the old prospector was headed for the Pearly Gates, when Digger opened his eyes. His startling brown-eyed gaze fought to focus on Cooper, then Delaney. A smile worked at his lips.
“I knew you’d come, sweet Winnie.”
Cooper shot Delaney a look. Who the devil was Winnie? “Yes, Digger, I’m here now,” she said softly.
The old man lifted his hand to pat Delaney’s cheek. “In the lake. Damnedest thing you’ve ever seen.” His voice dropped to a whisper; his eyelids drooped. “Space aliens, Winnie. In the lake.” His eyes closed, his breathing grew more ragged. Suddenly his eyes flew open again. “Tess!” he cried. “Where’s Tess?”
“She’s fine, Digger,” Delaney assured him. “She came to the ranch, so I knew you were in trouble. I put her in the barn with some oats.”
He smiled, then his eyes widened with fear. “He’s back from the grave, Winnie. Back for revenge. Gus. He tried to kill me.”
“We have to get him to a doctor,” Delaney said, motioning for Cooper to help her lift him.
“Easy,” Cooper said as he noticed the blood-encrusted lump on the back of Digger O’Donnel’s head.
“He must have taken a fall,” she said, swearing under her breath. “He’s too old to be wandering the woods like this.”
Cooper started to argue that confining him to a cabin would probably kill him. He’d seen what could happen to a man who’d lost his freedom. Instead he handed Delaney the flashlight and lifted the old man into his arms. “We can put him in the middle. You drive and I’ll try to keep him as stationary as I can.”
Delaney shivered and mumbled, “Space aliens. I wonder where he got that?”
As Cooper carefully laid Digger on the seat, his old eyes flickered open. “Del,” he said, his voice weak. He smiled and fumbled for Cooper’s hand. He pressed a piece of crumbled paper into Cooper’s fingers, then closed his eyes again. Cooper shoved the paper into his pocket as Delaney climbed behind the wheel and Cooper slid in beside Digger.
WHILE THEY WAITED at the hospital for word on Digger’s condition, Delaney paced. Cooper brought her coffee and a sandwich, but she’d taken only a few bites. Like her, he was worried—just not for the same reasons.
“Digger called you ‘Winnie,’“ he said, trying to distract her from staring down the hallway toward Digger’s room.
Delaney glanced at the sandwich in her hand, then at Cooper. “Winifred Lawson. My grandmother. I’ve always suspected Digger was in love with her. They were about the same age.”
“If this Winnie was anything like her granddaughter, I can understand why,” Cooper said.
She rolled her eyes. “I’d say thank you, but I know charm is second to breathing for men like you.”
He laughed, not even bothering to deny it, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. That’s when he remembered the crumpled paper and dug it out. “Digger thought I was you as I was loading him into the pickup. He called me ‘Del’ and gave me this.” He pressed what appeared to be a piece of paper bag flat on the waiting-room coffee table.
“More than likely he thought you were my grandfather, Del Henry.” She stepped closer.
Cooper stared at the crude drawing on the paper bag, then up at Delaney. He let out a low whistle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that looks like a space alien, complete with space ship.”
Delaney contemplated the drawing for a moment. “I don’t understand this.”
“Digger said he saw space aliens on the ranch. In the lake. There isn’t a lake on the ranch, is there?”
She frowned. “Not really. We call it Johnson Gulch Lake, but it’s just a place where Johnson Gulch Creek pools in the rocks.”
“And it’s near Digger’s camp?”
“Just over the ridge. But he can’t have seen…” She waved her hand at the drawing.
“Extraterrestrials?” Cooper asked, then shook his head. “Who was this Gus he was talking about?”
“Gus Halbrook, I assume.”
“Oh, the old prospector who died in the cave-in.”
Delaney nodded. “Obviously Gus hasn’t come back from the dead, nor did Gus try to kill him. But do you think someone did attack him?”
Cooper avoided her gaze, but not quickly enough.
“You think it has something to do with my problems on the ranch?”
Cooper shrugged. “It just crossed my mind that Digger might have seen something he wasn’t supposed to.”
“Like what?” she asked, her gaze drilling him.<
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He felt cornered. “Space aliens. Or maybe someone in the process of causing one of the accidents at the ranch.”
Delaney put the sandwich down and rubbed her arms as if suddenly cold. “I just assumed he’d taken a fall. But after everything that’s been happening on the ranch—”
They both turned as the doctor came down the hall. Cooper folded the drawing and pushed it back into his pocket. “You might want to keep this space-alien stuff just between the two of us,” he whispered as the doctor approached.
She glanced at him indignantly. She seemed to have that look down when it came to him. “How’s Digger?” she asked the doctor.
“He’s resting quietly,” the doctor assured her.
Delaney pressed her fingers to her lips, tears brimming in her eyes. “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?”
The doctor smiled as he laid a hand on Delaney’s shoulder. “Digger O’Donnel is one tough old bird. I’d put my money on him. You can see him for a moment if you’d like.”
She looked over at Cooper.
“I need to make a phone call anyway,” he said, happy to finally get a chance to call his employers.
COOPER FOUND a phone booth at the end of the hall, closed the door and dialed the familiar number. Thom Jamison answered on the second ring.
“We’ve got trouble,” Cooper said by way of introduction. “I got the wrong information on my ranch assignment. And that’s just the beginning.”
“Something’s not right,” Jamison said after hearing Cooper’s story. “All of this should have come up in our preliminary report on the ranch. We couldn’t have been that far off.”
“I say we pull off this job now and that’s what I intend to recommend to the agency.” Cooper thought about Delaney and wondered what she would think when he didn’t show up the next morning. He felt a twinge of guilt. And regret.
“Wait a minute, Coop. If someone screwed up at the agency, I want to find out before they can hide their mistake. Give me a couple of days before you pull off. I want to find the person responsible for this mess—the person who supplied me, and you, with the wrong information.”