Chapter 22

Anna’s gaze went from her horse’s saddle horn to the rope tied to Jacob’s stallion. She studied the knot fixed to her saddle. Could she untie it and run?

No, not on the sorry roan she rode.

They wound around pines in a long row, probably twenty men in all. Mr. Wilkes led the way with Anna and Jacob in the center. The scent of fresh grass and warm sunshine overhead would have made for a lovely ride if the most detestable man in the world wasn’t within earshot.

“Have you seen Devil’s Tower before?” Jacob asked in a voice far too conversational.

What more could he do to her? Bruises covered her thinning body, her spirit was just as battered and starved, and to her utter shame she had cowered at times. She wasn’t proud of anything now. But something about the warmth, the wildflowers, the sense of home renewed her fighting spirit.

Jacob repeated the question, this time in a stern tone.

“Yes, many times,” she snapped. “I have a home here.”

He raised his hand to backhand her.

“Beware,” she said in a low voice, “Or I will tell your father your plans to take the treasure from him.” She curled her lips into a wicked smile. “Where are those men you paid? Around the next bend?”

His hand slowly lowered to his side.

Did Mr. Wilkes suspect? Whether Jacob had truly wanted the treasure was beyond her to know, but he was a man who planned for every eventuality. His father surely guessed.

“I’ll kill you, of course,” he said, “before you tell him.” He chuckled. “You’ll be dead, and I’ll be a son who respects his father’s advice.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I’ll talk fast.”

“You do enjoy talking, don’t you?”

If only Philip rode beside her instead of Jacob and these men were paid workers to help find the treasure, she would talk until she had no breath. The thought sent unwarranted hope through her heart then drove her to the depths of depression. He couldn’t be dead. Had she seen his chest rise?

No one was coming after her.

She looked away, toward the patches of trees. Her best chance of escape was when they found the treasure and were distracted. Somehow, someway she would ride Jacob’s stallion away and never look back. Then she could gather herself and prepare to find her sister.

Against the vast blue sky, a tower rose from the green hills, a giant, gray thimble on the fabric of earth. The imagery she chose to describe Devil’s Tower, coupled with the hope of escape, lightened her spirits. She would run when their attention was on things they felt more precious than her.

The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men. If there was one thing she’d learned over the past month, nothing happened as she would have it. Plan, then act and hope for the best.

Ahead, Mr. Wilkes held his map in front of him. He tucked the aging page away as they approached a river. He started down the small embankment, his horse picking out a path.

Behind, the long trail followed.

Anna’s borrowed horse stumbled down the bank. Her mare had seen happier days. Oh, if only she knew Alita had fallen into friendly hands!

They crossed a vast deserted plain. The ground was covered in dry gravel, broken poles, ripped strips of leather, smashed cans, and other debris. This must be where the Sioux had camped for their dances. Philip had been here.

An imaginary lance pierced her very real heart.

Jacob rode beside her, his cream hat set tight atop his wispy, white hair and pale fingers holding the reins high above his saddle horn. His face was turned toward the tower, a thoughtful, contemplative look in his eyes.

This man had orchestrated this unthinkable moment, stealing Philip’s past and present to destroy his future.

Hot blood coursed through her veins. Every heartbeat thumped in her ears. She would never see Philip again.

Jacob had stolen her life.

She closed her eyes and tried to gain control over her surging emotions. Her hands, tied to her own saddle horn, twisted against the ropes. Weeks of chafing had toughened her wrists, and they barely felt the bite on her skin.

This was near where Philip’s parents had died. She wanted to stop and think about him. They kept on.

Jacob. A namesake who had stolen a birthright.

With every step rage filled her mind, whispering death, death, death, death.

With death she could be with Philip again. With death she would see her father. With death she would have peace.

Beth and her mother would not be far behind.

Anna barely felt the hot wind on her face. The breeze was cool compared to the fire inside her.

Her horse jerked to one side, but she kept her eyes closed.

Jacob had destroyed her family. Happiness wasn’t even a question anymore, nor was peace. Because of Jacob.

She growled, straining at the bindings. The ropes around her wrists snapped.

Her eyelids flew open, and her gaze pierced Jacob. Without knowing what happened, she was soaring through the air. Her shoulder slammed into his midsection as her arms wrapped around him. They tumbled over the stallion and slammed into a scraggly bush.

Air whooshed from her lungs.

Even though she couldn’t breathe, her fists pummeled him, connecting with bone, then softer parts of his body. The smell of sage couldn’t drown out his perfume, bringing memories of the murder of Beth’s horse to mind, the day he tried to kiss her.

Beth’s horse, Spink.

Jacob had ripped the heart from all of them.

She reached through his flailing arms and gripped his hair. With a knee in his gut, she smashed his head back against a mound of cropped grass. Voices screamed in her head but she ignored them all, instead letting the rage control her hands. “I hate you!” she screamed, words she never would have dared before. But what more could they take?

From behind, a voice. “Stop.”

She lifted a hand and slapped Jacob’s cheek.

“Stop.”

Again, she reared back and inflicted pain, praying beyond hope her agony would pass from her into him.

“We’re here.”

Fingers entwined in her hair and jerked her body back. She slammed into the ground, panting.

Mr. Wilkes stood over them, his shadow crossing his son’s haggard body. He held the page in his hand and pointed to the monolith within a stone’s throw. “We’re here.”

Rising from the earth like a massive spear rose Devil’s Tower, splitting the sky in two. Grooves the size of a house rose as far as she could see.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the stone pillar. She scrambled to her feet and backed away.

Had she ever seen anything so enormous, so imposing?

This stone rock was truth. Nothing could be done to move it, to destroy it. Jacob was powerless to control the giant. Its strength gave her strength.

At her feet, Jacob dabbed at his bleeding lip with a handkerchief. His eyes shimmered with two mixed emotions. The first was anger, a feeling she’d grown used to seeing. The second, however, scared her to the core. She’d hurt him. Not physically. There was no look of pain on his face. No, she’d hurt his feelings.

Had he honestly felt she would fall for him?

Her denial had finally touched his heart.

No hope she loved him, no chance she ever would. Now he was capable of killing her.

The emotion was quickly devoured by the cool pretense he usually wore. Pressing a hand against the earth, he rose over her, slowly testing his limbs. He stood between her and the tower, looking down on her.

He reached into his pocket where he kept his gun.

Mr. Wilkes put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Let’s find it.”

Jacob stared at her then let his hands drop. To a man nearby, he said, “Tie her tight. Bring her along.”

Rough hands spun her around on her belly and thick knees pressed into her back. An elbow drove the side of her head into the red dirt. Every breath blew small puffs of crimson dust into the still air.

Her heart and mind were numb. The next moments were surely her last.

She closed her mouth and tried to swallow. They yanked back her arms and tied her wrists together, but she barely felt the wrenching on her shoulders.

A purple flower inches away bowed its trumpeted head toward her. A harebell. The name was important. Why? She didn’t know. But the name was vital.

The strength of the tower behind her. The beauty of the flower beside her. Somehow she knew God had put them there for her. For courage. For hope. All was lost, but yet the flower had not been crushed as she fell. And the tower’s strength would stand the test of time.

Ironic, she thought as they jerked her to her knees. Devil’s Tower. That name would fit the men who bound her. She’d remember the monolith by the Lakota name, Bear Lodge. More befitting her spirit.

A rope was wrapped several times around her, trapping her arms to her sides and her hands behind her. Her legs were left free, and as they walked along the tower she almost laughed at the thought of escaping and running across the prairie like a bizarre creature without arms.

Surely her torpid heart explained her laughter. But there was more. There was hope. A known future? Did she have a single possession? Was there any person left alive who loved her? Whom she loved? Now that everything was gone, what was left?

What was left was God, and He was still just. Philip loved—had loved—talking about justice. And no matter what happened to her, justice would be done. Even more compelling, after all that Jacob had done, all the evil he’d committed, he wasn’t one iota happier. Just the opposite.

The band of men explored closer to the tower. They followed.

The rope around her neck pulled her along like a lasso.

Jacob walked close, keeping an eye on his father.

They split around boulders like water in a stream. Scraggly pines were sparse around the tower’s base, and as they paused she shifted into the meager shade.

Mr. Wilkes held up the page and slowly spun in a circle, looking past the map at the landmarks, then back at the faded ink.

Despite the dangers, Anna felt interest growing inside her, and her wonder at where the map would lead overshadowed some of her fear.

Mr. Wilkes walked several paces away from the tower, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He lifted his arms. “I can’t figure this map.”

Jacob took the map from him. “Shall I?” He studied the faint writing, a brow raised, then surveyed the rocks. “Ah.” He handed the map back to Mr. Wilkes and crossed in front of the men to a boulder.

Anna was yanked to the front, where everyone shifted to watch. What was it about Jacob that inspired such interest? His smooth movements, as well as his calm features inspired confidence. Dangerous.

Jacob ran a hand around the curved angle at the bottom of the rock. He paused, his fingers spread. A grin, close-lipped, crossed his face.

He’d found the treasure.

Jacob pressed his back against the rock.

If Jacob kept her alive because he thought she knew, his reason just ran out.

She tugged on the rope, eager to escape. Even with all her strength, her efforts barely caught the attention of the big man. He snarled at her then shook his head and tugged. She fell and decided just to remain there, looking at the sky.

When she was dead, before being reunited with Philip, she would float up to see what the top of the tower looked like. She imagined a colony of animals, escaped from the clutches of hawks. The animals had fallen in love, married, and had families.

With a groan, Jacob pushed. The rock, just larger than Jacob, leaned to one side, rolling on the rounded edge.

Anna scrambled to her feet.

A crack as tall and narrow as Jacob whistled as air rushed from the dark confines.

“A lamp,” Jacob called. No one moved. “Now!”

Several men rushed to the horses.

Jacob’s gaze fell on Anna, cold and hard. He considered her for a moment, but she knew the look. His mind was calculating. He lifted a hand, both pointer and middle finger extended, and he waved.

A signal?

Nothing moved that direction, only the extending shadow of the tower and beyond that miles of hills and trees. In the distance storm clouds gathered, their visual strength muted by the curve of the earth. Tonight the fury of God would be unleashed.

The lamps arrived.

“Father?” Jacob lifted the light. “Shall we?”

Doubt crept into Mr. Wilkes’s eyes. Jacob was in control of this situation now. The older man worked his jaw for a moment, looking at the men, then considering Jacob. “Fine. But just us. You and me.”

Jacob brushed dust and cobwebs from his suit with his free hand, slowly, deliberately. “Yes.” He gave the lamp to his father, freeing up his hands.

The move wasn’t lost on Mr. Wilkes.

Before Jacob started into the cave he looked at her, a gaze so soft that if she wanted to she could believe him compassionate.

In a soft voice he said, “You deserve to know.” He took her rope.

Men who show the extremes of kindness and cruelty are not to be trusted. But what could she do? A shiver ran down her spine as he took the rope and led her to the cave.

Mr. Wilkes stepped inside first.

Jacob pushed her toward the entrance. A cool wind brushed her hair away from her neck. In one moment she walked in blinding sunlight, and in the next she was plunged in darkness. The wind stopped.

Jacob’s footsteps against the gravel were close behind, echoing in the passage.

Anna kept her eyes focused on the lamp, the black around her whispering terrors of unknown creatures, monsters from the depths. What roamed in this darkness? What lurked in the deep? They continued into the abyss.

Her eyes finally made out the orange glow splashing against the rough cave wall. Craggy shadows sprang at her as the flame flickered despite the still air. A faint whiff of bat guano, an aroma she smelled near Branson in the Lost Caves, spiked fear through her. She hated bats.

The weight of the earth above pressed down on her.

Breathe, Anna. Breathe.

The passage continued straight and down for some time, as if this were a chute for lava in the past. But the cave took a sharp left turn then rose and widened.

Mr. Wilkes stopped and lifted the lantern.

A crevasse, longer than Anna was tall, blocked their way. Too far to jump.

Mr. Wilkes dropped to a knee and swung the lantern to one side. “Look.”

Jacob led Anna forward. It would be so easy to push Mr. Wilkes over the edge, and Jacob must have realized the danger. Jacob’s hand held her in front of him, so that she teetered over the rim of a bottomless pit.

She cried aloud but didn’t dare move.

Jacob chuckled and leaned down to see what his father found.

A log stretched over the emptiness.

“Tracks,” Mr. Wilkes said. “Several. They could be old.”

“Could be ancient,” Jacob said, surveying the passage beyond. “She’ll go first.”

Anna shook her head.

He lifted a hand to his pocket.

A bullet was sure death. Balancing on the log, she might live.

How old was the narrow bridge?

She pressed a foot on the wood. Solid. More weight. Still held.

Her mouth was dry and her heart hammered against her chest. Jacob would kill her. Her hands were bound and arms tied close to her side. Useless for balance.

Be fleet of foot. Move fast. Don’t look down. Focus on the log. Will yourself across. God, please.

Three quick breaths and she jumped.

Her toes grazed against the wood’s edge, and her other foot landed in the center. Like a dancer she pressed as lightly as she could. What if Jacob tugged on the tether? Before she could formulate the full thought, she landed safely on the other side.

Jacob and Mr. Wilkes crossed.

“Follow the tracks,” Mr. Wilkes said.

They walked for about two minutes, and the walls on either side retreated so the lamp’s light fell short of extinguishing the blackness surrounding them. The air was thicker, and she could smell water.

Mr. Wilkes stopped. “Best go around.” His face was ethereal. “Must have fallen recently.” He looked up.

The tracks led under a massive boulder.

Anna kept her mind off the implications of falling rocks, but being buried under the tower for all eternity ripped her sanity away. She jerked back. Jacob shortened his hold and jerked her to the ground.

She lay in the dirt, panting.

Jacob knelt by her side. “Keep yourself together.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed. You’re okay, Anna. She struggled to her feet.

Mr. Wilkes led them around the boulder, and this time when he stopped Anna ran into him.

He didn’t notice. Instead, he took several deliberate steps forward.

Anna couldn’t help but gasp.

With every stride, the world around them grew brighter.

They stood in a vast cavern. Ahead, a lake was so clear, so perfectly calm and smooth stretched beyond the light’s extent, she barely knew the reflection was water. Lamplight reflected off the depths and scattered through the cavern and danced on the ceiling. To the left the lake stretched forever into darkness. On their right a sharp wall, identical to the tower above, gave the cave and lake an abrupt end.

There was no gold. No jewels. Just dark rocks wherever they looked. Under her feet, dark rocks—perhaps crushed lava—made up the shore. Under the water, however, ragged quartz reflected light.

A soft drip was the only noise.

Jacob’s sigh caught her attention. He bent down and traced a round indentation in the rocks, perhaps the size of a barrel.

There were no other tracks.

Jacob looked up at his father. “It’s gone.”

Mr. Wilkes set the lamp on a flat rock and pulled the map from his pocket. “It has to be here. We’re right here.”

Jacob stood and brushed off his hands. “What’s lost can be found.”

Mr. Wilkes crushed the map in his fist. “But the money. Where’s the money?” He threw the paper to the ground. “Henry. Henry Anderson took it. I knew it. I knew it.” He swore, and the sound echoed through the cavern.

Anna crept a foot away, hoping God would drop a rock on him for his foul language.

“Father,” Jacob said softly. “You said he was dead.”

“It’s true.” He grasped both sides of his head.

“Then Philip must know where the treasure is.”

“Yes,” Mr. Wilkes said. “Yes, you’re right. But he’s dead.”

Jacob craned his neck to watch her as he said, “He’s alive.”

She tried to control her face, tried not to give him the pleasure of seeing her emotions, but her heart burst. A sob escaped her lips. Renewed hope and anger and dreams and fears took the place of her grief, creating a whirlwind in her stomach.

But there was a reason for Jacob’s admission. “Father,” he said, still looking at Anna. “It’s time you step aside and let someone else take care of matters now.”

“Don’t be preposterous.”

“You know Philip’s skills. You are no match for him. It’s time you let my generation take over what you have started.” Jacob finally turned away from her. “It’s time to return to your bank.”

“But—”

“Father, it’s finished.”

Mr. Wilkes’s fingers drifted to the gun at his side but thought better of it. “You’ve bought them, haven’t you?” When Jacob was silent, he said, “Are any of my men still loyal to me?”

Jacob held up two fingers. “And they’ll follow you back to Mitchell.”

The war that played on the large man’s face attested to the battles within. Would he fight? What chance did he have? Both Anna and Mr. Wilkes knew Jacob would kill him.

“I have to know,” Mr. Wilkes said. “I have to know what’s inside. It’s money. I know it is.”

“I will tell you.” Jacob lifted his head as if searching for something. “When I find it.”

Mr. Wilkes squeezed his eyes closed tightly, and when he opened them they held compassion. “Here,” he said, holding out a hand. “Give me the girl. I’ll take her with me.”

“I’ve other plans for Miss Johnston,” he said and he tugged on the rope, pulling her along the shore. He stopped at a thin boulder, half buried, and pressed her against rough stone. He wrapped the rope around the rock and knotted it to one side.

She pulled on the rope. Nothing. The fibers didn’t give.

Jacob took the lamp and started back down the passage.

“No!” Anna called. “No, you can’t leave me!”

“Jacob,” Mr. Wilkes barked from the narrow cave. “You can’t.”

But the light dimmed, slowly fading until darkness surrounded her, prickling her skin.

Anna screamed. “No!”