“Yeah.” She smiled, then gestured toward the wood she’d gathered. “Let’s have some coffee and food.”
Warren nodded. “Good idea. And we’ll see if our wounded warrior can put a few more hours in the saddle before we call it a day.”
Amanda caught the grim expression in Adam’s eyes.
“Bet your ass I can put in a few more hours. The farther and faster we travel, the better I’ll feel.”
Amanda doubted that. But there could be no denying the man had grit. They both did. She marveled that she could love them both so much. It was just a damn shame she couldn’t keep them.
Chapter 21
“I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance.” Bodine managed to work up a spit, sent it streaming to the dusty earth.
He hated having to bury Porter and Ira in the middle of Goddamn Indian Territory. Poor dumb bastards didn’t deserve to get dead. He hated having to walk. But most of all, he hated Adam Goddamned Kendall.
“I haven’t seen any sign of the horses.”
Bodine hated the fancy-ass easterner, too. He looked at the sun overhead, wondered how hot the day was going to get. He’d heard stories that starving people had feasted on other people when they got desperate.
He slid his glance over to Colin Baker and knew that would be a better fate than the prick deserved.
There wasn’t much good about the situation he was in at the moment. Except, of course, he wasn’t in prison anymore.
“Good thing we took the bedrolls and the canteens off the horses,” Baker said.
“How come you’re acting like this is a walk in the park?” Bodine wondered if the man had any idea just how dire the situation was.
Out in the middle of Indian Territory, where settlements were few and far between, not having a horse could very well result in death.
“Well, things have gotten about as bad as they can get,” the fool answered him. “I figure I’m due for some good luck. And, with the beating we gave that Ranger, if they’re moving at all, it’s not very fast, so they can’t be getting all that far ahead of us.”
Bodine wondered if the man hadn’t finally gone plum loco.
“Good luck, huh?”
“I’m counting on it.”
A few hours later, they came to a small pond with a few trees growing on one end of it. The remains of a campfire told Bodine this was likely where those bastards had camped the night he and his men had grabbed Kendall.
“They left firewood,” Baker said. He scanned the area, and Bodine wondered what he was looking for. It was afternoon, and in the time they’d been walking, sure as hell the others had been riding. They probably thought they’d gotten clean away.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for them to be thinking that.
The only hope Bodine had was he was pretty certain he knew where they were headed. He just wasn’t certain why.
He didn’t think Baker realized Bodine had heard every word he’d said to Kendall. Though he’d never had much schooling, Bodine wasn’t as stupid as Baker seemed to think he was.
The woman the easterner was after sure as hell wasn’t his wife, but she had something—some journal—he was desperate to recover.
From what he’d gathered listening in, that journal wasn’t Baker’s personal property so it likely didn’t contain anything that could send the man to jail if discovered. It probably contained mention of an inheritance, likely told of where some stash of gold or gems had been hidden.
Bodine didn’t need all the details right away. He figured whatever it was this prick beside him was chasing after it was here in Indian Territory and not back in Richmond Virginia.
Bodine knew a few folks in Tahlequah. They’d be willing to help him track down Kendall out of outrage over the killing of Porter and Ira, sure, but also for a piece of whatever that treasure was.
The killing of Baker was a treat he’d keep all to himself.
“I don’t know how much farther I can walk today,” Baker said, and Bodine had to blink to get the sweet picture of the man, gutted like a rabbit, out of his mind.
“Well, there’s fire wood and water here. We got our bedrolls.” Bodine dropped the bundle he’d carried over his shoulder, thanks to Ira’s belt. He’d taken it off the man before he’d covered him in rocks. Didn’t think his friend would have need of it anymore. “We could call it a day. If you get the fire going, I’ll see about scaring up a rabbit.”
“Hell, I’d even eat another snake,” Baker said.
Bodine got lucky and caught a fat, juicy rabbit. Before long, the smell of roasting meat made his taste buds water. He only regretted they didn’t have coffee or beans to go with the meat. They’d lost what few supplies they had left when the horses got run off. But rabbit roasted on sticks and water from the pond filled the belly, and was a mite tastier meal than he had any night in prison.
Bodine went to sleep with his gun by his side and slept with half an eye open, just in case Baker had been entertaining thoughts of gutting him—except he didn’t think the little prick would ever get his hands dirty.
Breaking camp the next morning didn’t require a lot of work. Roll up his bed and start walking. Bodine’s feet and legs were still sore from the day before. He looked over at Baker, shaking his head when that man began to whistle.
If Baker didn’t stop being so cheerful, Bodine figured he might just kill the bastard for that alone.
Sometime later, when the sun crept half-way to noon in the sky, Bodine’s gaze wandered to the horizon ahead. His feet stopped of their own accord as his brain tried to make sense of what his eyes saw in the distance.
Baker had stopped as well and seemed equally confused about the sight coming toward them.
Bodine heard something then, and he listened hard because he wasn’t altogether certain he wasn’t having one of those strange mirage things he’d heard about. Glancing at Baker, he could see that the other man seemed to be hearing the same thing if the look of confusion on his face was anything to go by.
The vision, and the sound, came closer. He listened, and listened hard, and eventually the sound became words.
“I tell you, Emmaline, I am so dang disappointed after all the talk I done heard about the gold hiding out here on Indian land. I surely don’t know where else to look. We only got one stick of dine-o-mite left, so we got to be careful, real careful, where we toss that last one. And anyways, we got to find the fellers who lost these here horses first. ‘Taint right, if’n a body has a chance to do a good deed and doesn’t why, that’s just asking to be sent to you-know-where after ya die!”
A soft braying sound followed this statement.
Bodine turned to look at Baker.
“I told you we were due for some good luck,” Baker said.
Bodine just shook his head as the strange procession—a grizzled old man leading a burro and two horses—came closer.
At that moment, the old man must have seen them, because he stopped and turned to his burro.
“See that, Emmaline? I told you we was going in the right direction.” Then he raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, there! You fellers lose a couple of horses?”
* * * *
Amanda stretched her back, the soreness from days of riding sitting low and mean on her hips. She’d never really believed the male was the strongest of the species, leastways not the human species. The behavior she’d witnessed growing up in Richmond as her mother’s daughter had, in fact, convinced her that over all, men were soft creatures and not very bright to boot.
Guess none of them were real men.
She cast a glance over to Adam, who rode on her left. Just a couple of days ago, he’d been beat nearly senseless, could barely sit on his horse. Now the only sign of that adventure was the slight scab on his lip and a bit of bruising around his eye.
The sun hung low in the sky, and the scent of a river teased her nostrils. She really hoped they were going to camp soon because she’d just about had it.
“Just up ahead,” Adam said
, proving once more he could practically read her mind.
“Good.” She figured she didn’t need to act tough. “I don’t know why I’m so beat today.”
Warren snorted. “During your days you’re riding your horse, and at night—except for the last two—you’ve been riding us. Doesn’t surprise me. Maybe we should just let you be tonight.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” Amanda said.
Both men grinned equally devilish grins. “Just teasing, sweetheart,” Warren said.
The land looked rockier here, with ridges and rises that seemed to go every which way. It simply amazed her that Adam knew where they were, that he could follow any kind of trail.
“Here, sweetheart, come look at this.”
She hadn’t noticed Adam pulling the map Chief Smith had given him out of his saddle bag. She nudged her horse—a mare she’d named Virginia just to make her lovers laugh—and moved over closer to Adam. Warren brought his horse around the other side of him, so they were like three points of a triangle.
We’re so damn connected I don’t know how we’re going to separate.
The growing intimacy worried her. But this wasn’t real life. This was an adventure, and nothing they’d done or said so far had convinced Amanda that this bond they’d formed was anything but temporary.
Once they got back to civilization, once these two men returned to their lives and their town, she knew there’d be no room for her. How could there be?
“Amanda?” A note of worry laced Adam’s voice.
She shook her head and brought her gaze back to the moment. “Sorry.”
“Look,” he pointed to a spot on the map that looked like a crescent moon. When she then raised her gaze and looked ahead and to the left, her eyes widened.
“Oh, my goodness! It’s just like he drew it!”
“Yeah, I figure fate finally decided to lend us a hand in order for us to come out right here. I think we’re close. Let’s ride a bit farther over to that ridge and see if we can see the other ridge, the one that starts near the tip of that one and goes east. It’s looking like another hour, maybe. If we can’t see anything, we’ll double back to that river, make camp.”
Amanda’s weariness slid off her at the prospect of being so close to their goal.
They nudged their horses and began riding again, and when the trail narrowed and climbed upward, Adam took the lead, with Warren bringing up the rear. She thought perhaps that having lost their horses and ending up with these Indian ponies had been a blessing in disguise. Virginia didn’t seem to have any trouble whatsoever picking her way among the rocks, and not for one moment did Amanda feel as if she might end up on the ground.
The crescent-shaped ridge turned out to be longer that it had looked, but gradually, they came to the edge of it.
Adam stopped his horse and turned in his saddle, waiting for her and Warren to catch up. She didn’t need to look at the landscape. All she needed to see was the smile he wore. Her eyes took in the land, anyway.
Just ahead and to their right, a small flat mesa stretched out, a pretty piece of ground with some trees and a stream meandering down between this ridge they were on and the next. That larger, higher piece of rock ran east to west, and even from where she sat, she could see what looked like a dark shadow in the rock, with a small scrub bush growing next to it.
“After all this, can it really be that easy?” She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud.
“Honey, if you think this has been easy, you’re tougher than I gave you credit for,” Adam said.
Amanda shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
Warren reached out and ran his hand down her back. “Yeah, we know.”
“Let’s go take a look. Even if it’s not the right cave, we ought to use it.” He looked up at the sky, at the dark clouds that gathered in the west and seemed headed their way.
Amanda followed his gaze and understood what he meant. They’d probably have rain during the night.
It took another half hour to work their way down from the ridge they were on to the flat little mesa. The river was a bit bigger than it looked, not too fast-running despite the rockiness of the land. Once the horses were tethered and unsaddled, Amanda looked at each of the men in turn.
“I want to see.”
Adam nodded. “Okay, let’s go see.”
The terrain was surprisingly smooth as they made the small trek to what they now could see was the mouth of a cave. Amanda wondered if this could really be it, the cave with the overhang where her father had hidden that Confederate gold all those years ago.
“Well, damn.” Amanda’s words echoed inside the rock cavern. The opening, while tall enough to enter, seemed shallow. They stood about five feet inside the opening. No overhang greeted them, just a wall of broken rock. To the right of the entrance, the cave seemed to open wider, as if a bubble had formed additional space.
No overhang. No bodies. No gold.
They walked the interior of the cave, seeing no sign that anyone, or any creature, had ever explored or even taken up residence here.
“Nothing.” She couldn’t help notice how barren that one word sounded.
Adam walked back to the entrance, his gaze on the rubble that formed one of the walls of the cave.
“Maybe,” he said quietly, “it fell.”
“What fell?” Amanda asked.
“The overhang.”
Amanda surveyed the rubble. “How the hell are we going to find out if it did?” she asked.
Warren came to stand beside them. “We could dig.”
“Tomorrow,” Adam said. “We’ll dig a little tomorrow. In the mean time, let’s set up camp. We’ll put the fire near the cave, but not in it.”
Amanda felt waves of disappointment washing over her. She didn’t know how they were going to manage to dig through that rubble. Sure, some of the rocks looked as if they could be lifted, but the others seemed too large to move.
“Come on, sweetheart. We’ll eat, play, and sleep. In the morning, we’ll dig. Maybe we’ll find it’ll be easier than we imagine.”
“Maybe.” She turned from the cave, her eyes on the river. “I don’t care how cold that water is. I’m getting naked and getting into it.”
“Yeah,” Adam said.
He smiled and looked at her in such a way she felt her disappointment ebb into the background.
“Let’s just gather our firewood first.”
That, Amanda thought, sounded like a plan with a promise.
Chapter 22
“How far behind them do you think we are now?” Baker asked.
Colin watched Bodine as he examined the abandoned camp site, or more specifically, the spot where their quarry had tied their horses for the night. There could be no mistaking the fact Bodine looked at him with fresh eyes.
You don’t think I’m such a dandy now, do you?
All he’d had to do to change Bodine’s attitude was to kill one crazy old prospector and steal his supplies. Since he’d procured coffee and beans as well, he figured he’d leave it to Bodine to look at horse shit and try to decide how fresh it was.
“I’d say less than a full day. Reckon this was last night’s site.”
Colin nodded. “Good. It’s just noon. You sure you know the way to this place they’re headed?”
“Tahlequah? Yeah, been there a time or two. This trail seems like they’re headed just west of the town.”
Colin had made a decision shortly after he’d killed the old man. Rifling the man’s possessions, he’d discovered a compass and something that had filled him with instant desire—dynamite.
The old guy had been carrying a stick of dynamite as if it was nothing. Crazy old bastard likely would have blown himself to bits, anyway.
Bodine had shot the man’s burro when the stupid jackass wouldn’t stop its noise, standing there next to the old man’s body. That act had earned Bodine some of Colin’s trust, so he’d told Bodine just what it was they were chasing after.
<
br /> Shame he wasn’t going to let Bodine live to see any of the gold.
“Let’s keep moving, then,” Colin said. “We took enough jerky from that old bastard we don’t really need to stop and make camp. I’d rather catch up and move on them just before dawn.”
“Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” Bodine said.
Colin liked the man he’d become over the last few weeks. He felt tougher, as if living off the land had given him a new outlook, and a new set of skills. He’d been soft before he’d made the decision to head West.
He wasn’t soft any longer.
At his urging, Bodine picked up the pace, and they pushed their horses to make up the time that separated them from their quarry. They stopped once in the late afternoon to water the animals and drink from the stream. Bodine suggested making a quick fire, brewing some of the coffee they’d stolen from the prospector.
Because Colin wanted to ride as far as possible that day, he reasoned a quick meal now would carry them to nightfall, possibly beyond. It didn’t take long for Bodine to make that fire and that coffee.
He ate jerky and beans and drank black, strong coffee—a meal Colin would have turned his nose up at only months before—and felt himself well-fed, well-rested, and ready to finish this business.
He couldn’t fail, for right was on his side.
No one would doubt Amanda Dupree had worked some sort of guile to convince the aging and increasingly senile Gladstone to give her money and the journal. Who in his right mind would mention a whore or a bastard daughter in his will?
Colin nodded. He knew he was right, for the bequest to the woman had not been mentioned in Gladstone’s will at all, but had been arranged ahead of time, bestowed by a separate document, given over to that useless lawyer even before Gladstone had died.
“How much gold, exactly, you figure there’s there?”
Bodine’s question brought Colin back to the present. He scanned the area, noted the rise in the land, the gradual change in scenery. Trees grew in small groups, farther apart than they had been.
“Likely tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth,” Colin said.
Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Lawmen [The Lost Collection] (Siren Menage Everlasting) Page 18