Chapter 24

Scott and I halted our horses within sight of the enemy’s camp. Two guards kept a wary eye for the likes of me, guarding their own mounts. I didn’t see Jacob’s animal, but one stallion caught my attention. He was beautiful.

I pushed all my weight into my left leg, pressing against the stirrup, and swung my right over the back of the saddle and planted my boot on gravel. I tugged my left foot from the stirrup.

With a gloved hand, I took the tail end of her rein, swung the leather around a thick pine branch at about eye level, and twisted it into a loop. My fingers quickly dropped the rein’s end under again to make another loop then swept it through the first loop and tugged. Raven wouldn’t pull away, but I could snatch her easily.

I’d brought Alita as well, sure that Anna would be riding away with us.

The two horses stood side-by-side. Raven’s jet and Alita’s cream-colored flanks stirred my heart, all that was right in the world.

Get Anna. Take her back to my farm. Watch the horses while we drink coffee.

“Let’s go, Scott. Careful, though. Becky’s knife is at my throat.”

“Makes two of us,” he muttered and when I continued to stare at him he said, “Just a joke.”

He wasn’t convincing.

“If I lost you . . .” It was the best I could do with the swelling emotions.

“Kind of why I’m here.” His hands shook, and his face darkened. “If you went down and there was something I could do . . .”

And that was all. We’d said all we could. All we needed. Rare was he speechless.

I pulled the Smith and Wesson. He lifted his Winchester.

We started forward and I paused at a boulder. I peered around and saw no one, so I pressed on. A pine offered cover, and I stopped there.

Scott hid behind a bush that offered no cover.

“Hey.”

He glanced over, and I pointed the gun at the bush. “Won’t stop a bullet.”

“Right.” He scurried to my tree like a ground squirrel.

Odd. His presence on my farm, in the restaurant, and at his small home was so different than here. As we moved to the next rock his shoulders were thicker, back straighter, jaw firm as if determination drove him from boy to man. Living for others did that.

Yet his light heart remained. “What’s on top of the tower,” he asked. “Indian tribe?”

“No idea. Never been up there.”

He started for a nearby cleft under the tower. As I caught up with him he said, “I’ll climb it when we’re done here.”

We kept moving around the tower’s base. “Scott, you’ve any family? Other than your sister, I mean?”

“No, just my sister back East.”

“And you moved out here when your parents died?”

“Had a falling out with her after that.”

His voice was clipped.

I let it go. If something happened to him, I had enough information to find those who might care what happened.

Movement through scraggly trees caught my eye, and I pressed against a tree. Scott ducked behind a thick pine.

Gunfire exploded. Thunder ripped through the rocks and ricocheted against the tower. Birds squawked and took flight, soaring away as fast as their wings would carry them.

I threw myself flat against the ground and waited for the familiar sound of bullets ricocheting off obstacles.

None came.

Beyond the trees in a small depression, men moved around the rocks like ants. Tiny puffs of smoke contributed to a general haze growing around the fight. Closer to us in a semicircle below, defenders scrambled for cover, their backs exposed to Scott and I.

“Would you look at that,” he said, lifting his rifle. “We could even this fight pretty fast.”

Tempting.

“Yeah,” he muttered after not firing.

“You’ve every right to defend—” I stopped.

Between the small gaps of gunfire ripping through the air, I was sure I heard a voice.

Not just any voice. “Scott, did you hear that?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Shooting?”

“No.” The voice came again. “There.”

“I heard it that time.”

I faced the tower. “Anna.”

“Where is she?”

I looked at the rocks and trees and gravel. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you knew where the treasure was.”

“I do,” I said, the frustration high in my voice. “It’s just not here anymore.”

Scott rolled over. “What do you mean?”

“My father found it.” Her distant voice drew me away into a dream, a time when I sat on my porch and watched Anna in the corral with the horses. Their muzzles fit perfectly in her hands as she held out oats.

She had called out to me with laughter in her voice.

Now I heard terror.

“That way.”

“Buddy,” Scott said. “There’s no cover.”

“I have to.”

Scott looked over the battle. “I’ll be your cover.” He lifted his rifle. “Go, before they turn around.”

I squeezed his arm then started into the shadow of Devil’s Tower.

My compass pointed the way, locked on the faint whispers of her voice. The sound cut through the roar of shooting, dragging me forward into the danger of open ground. I didn’t care. I kept moving, focused only on Anna.

How many rocks would I walk around this day? At least one more. I would go where her voice took me. Oh, her voice! Despite the terror, her voice to me was a choir of angels hovering overhead. She was alive.

I had been sure I would never hear her voice again, never listen to her soft whispers, never feel her presence.

In front of a cave, flat gravel left plenty of room for Jacob’s men to see me. The only cover was a rock that had been rolled to the side.

I holstered my gun, whispered a prayer for protection, and sprinted to the cave’s entrance.

I slid to a stop and my boots sprayed tiny rocks. I ducked into darkness, the narrow tube driving straight into a rise and then down.

Now I saw the first difficulty in my lack of planning. Light in a dark place.

Anna’s voice came again. Clearer. More real. I made out the word help.

My toe bumped against steel, the sound suspiciously like a lamp. Did God work that way?

As I grabbed a match from my pocket I decided if I had to ask, chances were, He didn’t.

I lifted the lamp high, the cave’s walls a mix of haunting shadows and clear direction.

I followed the path, breathing in the moist air. Thoughts of my father walking through the cave tried to edge in on my mind, but I could only think of Anna. If she were just in my arms again, even for an instant, all would be okay. I could protect her.

Deeper into the bowels of Earth I pushed, my singular focus an uncommon drive of personal bravery. So much dirt overhead, and what was keeping it all from tumbling down?

I stepped over a handful of rocks and stumbled. I let myself fall but stopped just before crashing. I hovered over a precipice so deep I couldn’t see the bottom. Gravity pulled me forward, forward, willing me to tumble in. I balanced on the edge for several seconds, and with a yell I pulled myself backward, an inch at a time, slowly shifting my weight away from death.

I regained my balance and peered over the edge. I shivered. Too close. I lifted the lamp a little higher and saw a crate to the right. Dynamite. Were Jacob and his men planning to blow up the cave? I had to hurry.

A log stretched the distance, and it took two steps to cross. I kept going, the path now covered with sand and small, black rocks.

“Philip Anderson.”

I spun, left hand lifting the lamp, right hand on my gun. Across the chasm, Jeb held a rifle on his shoulder, the muzzle pointed at my head. His finger was on the trigger.

I was fast. Not that fast.

Jacob Wilkes stepped into the light and stopped beside Jeb. “Philip Anderson,” Jacob said again. Each word was carefully enunciated as he said, “I never thought you to be a treasure hunter.”

I couldn’t help the growl. “Anna.”

“Worry not, my friend,” he said, his smile lit in the lantern’s gleam. “You’ll soon be joining her.”

My hand hovered over my Smith and Wesson, ready to pull if Jeb looked away. All I needed was a quarter of a second. But Jeb knew death for either of us was a blink away.

My heart ran cold. Jeb’s Winchester.

“Ah, I see you recognize the gun.” Jacob looked from the rifle back to me. “Your burning-haired friend was all too eager to give it to us.”

I almost pulled my gun. “You killed him?”

“A bullet ended him as we entered the cave behind you. Now I’m about to bury him.” Jacob pulled a cigar from his suit pocket, and with a thumb lit a match in his other hand. The tiny light shone bright in the relative darkness. “I’ve been planning this moment for a while.” He put the cigar to his lips and touched the match to the end. Smoke wafted behind him.

“Jacob, you don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but I must.” He took another puff, and the end glowed. “I must show the world my benevolence. They have to understand that I am a just man.”

I knew what he meant to do. “How much time are you giving me?”

My gaze remained on Jeb, but I watched Jacob from the edge of my sight. He dropped to a knee and tugged the log, sliding the beam to his side.

“How much time, Jacob?”

He leaned over, picked up a long string, and took the cigar in his other hand. “Five minutes.”

She was the bait. I was the prey. And Scott got in the way. “Where is Scott?”

“A few feet back.” Jacob touched the cigar to the string, blew on the end, and the fuse burst into a brilliant ball of light. He dropped it and stood. “Never let it be said Jacob is heartless.”

“Jacob, you don’t want to know where the treasure is?”

“That’s my father’s dream. Mine is different. Now go, tell Anna good-bye. My final gift to you.” He looked up. “I do wonder if the entire cavern will collapse or just the passage. I guess I’ll never know.”

I eyed the dynamite.

“Ah. An oversight. I’m glad you reminded me,” he said. He took the burning fuse and tugged it toward the other end of the box. “See? I know you’re good. Shoot the flame out now, and you’ll blow the dynamite early. Now you’re wasting your last breaths.”

He was right.

I retreated a few steps then turned my back to my worst enemy and tore through the cave toward Anna.

Toward our last moments together.