Chapter 28

I walked through a quiet town, the cask under my left arm. My right arm hung free.

Birds called out to the brightening day. With a wary eye, I glanced for enemies past windows reflecting the sun, around building corners, and down the empty street.

Being in civilization again was good.

My footsteps mingled with the rest—Anna to my right, Marshal Hill to my left. Ryan, Jackson and Matt carried Scott in a litter, following close behind while Running Deer lurked somewhere ahead.

The reunion with Anna’s father had been bittersweet. His leg had been amputated, and he greeted her with a crutch under his arm. Beth clung to Anna for five minutes while everyone waited outside. Anna explained to her father what she must do, and with his blessing she had rejoined us.

She promised she would return.

Just off First Street we stopped at Doc Wilson’s. I leapt up the steps and pounded on his door.

From below Scott said, “Philip, don’t do this.”

“The decision isn’t yours.”

“I want to see what it is.”

I ignored him as the door swung open.

Doc Wilson’s shirt was untucked, and he whipped his suspenders over his shoulders. He wore no glasses, and his eyes were puffy as if he just woke. “Who’s hurt?” His eyes came into focus. “Philip? Is that you?”

“Yes, Doc. Scott’s hurt.”

The doctor’s squint turned to wide-eyed fear. “Dear God. Not Scott. Where is he? What’s wrong?”

“Here, Doc,” Scott said, sitting up on his elbows. “I’m not a bad as they make out.”

“Legs.” Marshal Hill rubbed his mustache to cover his already quiet voice. “He can’t feel ‘em.”

Doc stiffened. “Get him inside.”

“Wait, wait.” Scott held up a hand. “I’ve got to see something first.”

“The back is broken, Scott. I must examine it now, before any more damage is done.”

“Doc, I’ve been slung over a horse for two days and I rode on a bumpy train for another day since the accident.” Scott laid back. “A few more minutes won’t do any harm.”

I glanced at Anna. Shouldn’t he be eager to see Becky? He hadn’t even asked that she be included. Her furrowed brow told me she might be wondering the same. I turned back to Doc. “Will it hurt, just for a few minutes?”

He considered a moment. “Fine,” Doc said, reaching for his bag and stepping into the morning light.

“Wait,” I said. “Doc, we’ll watch him.”

He looked from me to Marshal Hill, who gave a single nod.

“On your head be it,” Doc said, returning to the shaded entry and slamming the door.

“Let’s go.” I jumped down the stairs and marched for Caroline’s Kitchen nearby.

“You must be feeling better,” Anna said.

“A little weak, but pushing through. I can’t wait to see my horses again.”

“Ryan, will you get Rachel?” I asked. A small alley cut behind Caroline’s Kitchen to the small shack where she lived.

As he hurried around the corner Scott said, “Was he just flitting? Did he just prance?”

“Shut your mouth!” Anna said with a sharp laugh. “He’s excited to see her.”

We heard a knock. The door opened, a squeal.

“Hey,” I said to Scott. “Should we get Becky?”

He shrugged. “In a bit.”

Rachel burst around the corner, pulling Ryan behind her like a small horse pulling a huge wagon. I doubted she’d appreciate the comparison to a horse though. “Look at you!” She brought her hands to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes. “I thought I’d never see any of you again.” She fell into Anna’s arms.

She noticed Scott and she froze.

“Just a scratch.” He waved a hand. “I’ll be right as rain soon.” But I saw lines on the corners of his eyes. He was in pain.

“But—”

“Should we continue?” Scott said, cutting her off.

She turned to me, and I hefted the cask. “Can we use the restaurant?”

It was as if she were waking up. She shook her head, sending long curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Yes. Yes! Of course. Let’s go through the back.”

“Anna and I will join you in a minute. I’m going to scout the front.” I suddenly needed a kiss. Bad. And there was no reason to hold back. None at all.

I took Anna’s hand and started for the front, and as soon as the others disappeared down the alley I set down the cask and grabbed her waist in both hands. I wasn’t gentle as I pulled her toward me and pressed my lips against hers. With my hand on the back of her head and my fingers in her hair I held her close, hoping the time and pain would be whisked away by the passion between us. Every second locked in her embrace the world slipped away, and the only reality was our two beating hearts against each other.

I broke from her lips and kissed her cheek, then ear, and then held her closer.

“Oh, it’s been too long,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“That was spring water after a long walk in the desert.”

I sighed. “You’re a poet. But I suppose water does taste better when so thirsty.”

She drew back and put her hands on my shoulders. “And you’re such a philosopher.”

I wanted our relationship to move along quickly. Life without Anna was impossible to imagine, but asking her now wasn’t the time. Instead I took her hand and led her toward the front.

“Philip.” She tugged, holding me back.

I turned.

She said in a coy voice, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

I smiled and drew her into my arms again, embroiling her in a kiss. Her body shuttered and sagged, and after a moment she pulled away. “That’s nice.” She brought a hand to her mouth. “Very nice. But I meant that.”

She pointed to the cask.

Memories slammed into me like a runaway train. How I wanted to flee from the tracks and escape.

“Philip.” She lowered to one knee and hefted it to the top of her thigh. “I know that look. You’re closing up on me. Tell me.”

I glanced back toward Main Street, the long rows of businesses, a few owners opening shop. With a hand on the butt of my gun and a foot on the edge of the boardwalk I watched. In truth what I wanted most was a place to call home. Mitchell accepted me from the moment I stepped in town. Perhaps Anderson’s War hadn’t ruined the fact I still had a home, a family here.

Maybe I could hang up my gun.

Maybe I could ask Anna to marry me.

I said, “I like it here.”

She stood and laid her head against the top of my arm. “I do too.”

“There,” I said, pointing across the street. I stepped up onto the boardwalk and took the cask from her. “Remember when the Sioux woman needed help, right there?”

“You were incredible.”

“That’s the first time I saw you. You were watching me. Remember?”

She leaned against me. “Your eyes.”

I couldn’t hold back a shudder, and her touch softened as her fingers caressed the top of my hand. The sigh that escaped her lips was like a mother in a store being patient while her children asked for peppermints. “Someday,” she said, “you’ll see your features through me. A family usually helps you find what’s good and bad about you. A bit of refining, I think, in every person’s life, is what a family does.”

“And I don’t have one.”

“Do you want one?”

My heart rose to the occasion. She’d asked something of similar importance before. What do you feel inside? My answer was I feel fine inside. The memory made my gut sick, and in this moment I wanted to answer without an answer. The words almost slipped from my mouth, whatever you want.

Anna cared for my feelings. And with any luck, what I wanted would align with her desires.

But why couldn’t I say the words? I looked at the cask, hoping for a diversion. Then down the street. All I saw was shimmering windows and blank looks of sleepy store owners.

She deserved to know.

Do I want a family?

“Anna.” I licked my lips. “Anna.” I couldn’t look at her. “Anna.” I searched my heart. “Anna, I . . . I’m scared. I want to make a family more than anything.” I swallowed. “I don’t know how.”

She laughed a lighthearted tinkling from her throat but stopped when she saw how it made me feel.

“Oh, Philip.” She closed her eyes. “You’re nothing like your father. You’ve already proven yourself a better man.” She tapped the cask under my arm. The hollow sound echoed against the Kitchen’s wall. “Look. You’re standing here, the treasure under your arm.”

“Just like my father.”

“Exactly my point. You stand here, just like your father, with the treasure. But it isn’t open. It isn’t your passion.”

“Not my dream.”

“This,” she said, waving a hand from my head to my feet, “may have come from him.” She tapped my chest. “But this has been built by a lifetime of loving others, being a good friend to Scott, Leroy, Caroline, Marshal Hill. For loving your parents beyond their graves.” Her voice caught. “For loving me.” She motioned toward the West. “You’ve proven to everyone you’re not your father. You won’t turn into him. Why won’t you believe it?”

There was only Anna and the words she dared utter. Didn’t she know I could grow angry and never speak to her again? Love does funny things, like take risks.

Her words stripped me bare.

“Oh, Anna. When did you grow so wise?”

She smacked my chest again, only this time with the back of her hand. “And don’t you forget it.” The corners of her lips curled up so that the dimple on her cheek, now just a vague shadow, reappeared for the first time in forever.

I hefted the cask. “So, you ask me if I want a family. The answer is I do, but there’s only one person I trust to help me.” As I walked toward the front door I added, “And that’s you.”

She clung to me as I knocked on the coarse wood planks, and the door to Caroline’s Kitchen swung open.

Ryan filled the doorway, and as he stepped aside to let me in I put a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

His dull eyes filled with a look that understood my meaning. I’d been wrong about him. Yet he remained my faithful friend.

I stepped past Ryan. Familiar settings would be welcome right now.

The tables had been rearranged.

To my right Rachel pushed in a chair, as if finishing. She looked at Ryan and then back at me. “They helped me move the tables.” She shoved another chair home. “I needed a change.”

With a thick tongue I said, “Rachel, you’ve been through much because of me. I’m sorry you—”

“I’ve felt life to its top because of you.” She thrust a hand on her hip. “The bad comes with the good.”

Her words washed away the flood of guilt.

I turned to Jackson and Matt. “Thank you for coming to Mexico.”

Jackson straightened to attention. “An honor.” His pockmarked face was almost handsome in the morning light that filtered through the windows. “Truly.”

“What Jackson means,” Matt said, “is that he feels it was a cause worth fighting for.”

I walked past them, and Marshal Hill’s bright eyes and thick mustache were as welcome and familiar as any I’d ever met. “Thank you. Not just for this.” I tilted my head toward Anna. “But for showing me what I need to do.”

“Just pointed you to the trailhead.” He sat on a table’s edge. “You led us on the path yourself.”

The overwhelming love I felt was impossible to communicate. I put a hand on his shoulder as I walked past him.

Dear God. Scott. Please, God. For a moment I thought I would cry. God, what can I say to tell him my feelings? I looked at the rafters overhead, the freshly painted wood telling a story of how much change everyone really needed.

“You have to look at me eventually,” Scott said.

I turned my gaze into his calm eyes. How could he see through the long strands of red hair dropping into his eyelashes?

His stretcher was set on the bench near the large center table. He lay on his back, his head turned toward me. A pitiful vision.

I stepped close and he clasped my hand. “This is going to eat at your soul, I know it will,” Scott said.

Behind me the girls sniffed.

His strong grip wrapped around my thumb. “All things happen for a reason.” He used the grasp to pull himself a few inches to the side. “Could have happened to you as much as me.”

Now there were tears and I looked away, embarrassed. “But it was you. And I couldn’t stop it. This might be the rest of your life, Scott.”

“Meant to be.” He let go. “If it wasn’t a bullet, it would have been a rock from under Devil’s Tower. Some fireball from the sky would have hit me. Better helping save the . . .” his voice choked. “The people I love most in this world.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, you’re the famous one, remember? Can’t mar that pretty figure.”

I wiped my cheeks on my sleeve. My gaze stayed fixed on my feet. I wasn’t normally this emotional. I struggled but could not control myself again.

Scott let go of my hand. “You know, we’ve happily ridden with you across this country to save our girls then raced to Devil’s Tower to rescue Anna. Any of us would give our life for yours.” His expression turned hard. “But if you wait one more second before opening the blasted treasure, I’ll kill you myself.”

Anna’s voice was heavy with tears and laughter. “Not if I kill him first. Philip may not want to know what’s inside, but I have to know.”

I dropped the cask on the bench beside Scott, and everyone crowded around. “I can’t open this.” I spun the barrel until the bent iron ring was close to me.

Everyone groaned. Rachel bumped me none too gently as she passed then returned from the kitchen with a pick, the handle as long as her torso.

She hefted the tool. “Stand back.”

“Wait. Wait.” I took the pick from her, tapping the handle’s bottom softly on the floor and jarring the pickaxe head loose. I slid it the length of the wood and set the head between two slats.

“So much blood. So many lives. My uncle, my father. Wilkes. Custer. So many.”

“You succeeded where the others failed,” Anna said.

“Because of you.” I didn’t look up. “Because life can’t be lived alone.”

“Okay, fine. You’re not alone on your farm anymore,” Scott said. “You’ve changed. Now would you just open it?”

Anna grabbed the pick end and jerked, splitting the wood. “Men talk too much.”

Raw cotton peaked through the lid’s broken slat.

Without responding, I broke open the barrel’s lid. Everyone leaned forward.

I reached in and touched the vague impression in the cotton. “The necklace was here.” I snatched a handful of cotton and tossed it on the table. I scooped out more cotton.

My fingers scrapped metal.

Was anyone breathing?

I tugged out the cotton and poked my finger on something hard.

With care I pulled out a crown of delicate gold, laced with rubies and emeralds.

“I knew it!” Anna nearly screamed.

“So beautiful,” Scott said with a whistle.

“Ryan, Jackson, Matt, let’s keep an eye on those windows.” Marshal Hill pulled his gun and started for the front door. He slid the bolt closed. The others took their places but continued watching. Rachel disappeared into the kitchen and I heard a bar slide across the door.

I set the crown on the table and paused before reaching in. A shiver went up my spine.

Cool, smooth pearls slid through my fingers and wrapped around my palm. I pulled out the necklace, eyeing the creamy white gems, each the size of my knuckle. The girls gasped and Scott whistled.

They grew silent as I lifted an emerald ring and held it up to a ray of light. Next to it was a massive diamond, and I held it to the light as well. On the floor the light cast scattered beams.

I set them both on the table.

A silver tiara sparkled with diamonds. I showed Anna a pair of hair combs. Her finger touched a gem, and her voice was a reverent whisper. “Onyx.” She tapped the next with her fingernail. “Sapphire.”

The next layer was tightly packed in cotton. Gold bracelets, perfect circles lay thin and delicate and pronounced against the dirty white. I set them carefully with the other jewels.

Below, a layer of fabric stretched across the bottom half. I coaxed the material out, feeling the gentle cloth between my fingers. There was more to this fabric than I realized. “Anna, can you help? Just pull. I’ll draw it out.”

I drove my fingers into the barrel and as she pulled I tickled the cloth out, tugging the attached gems so they wouldn’t catch on the cask’s iron ring. Soon Anna’s arms were high overhead. How did it all fit inside?

The cloth came free, and Anna stepped back with the sound of jangles. Clutched in both hands, her fingers white, she held a dress.

My breath caught.

The bodice front was a white triangle accented by teardrop diamonds. Shimmering gold cloth framed the triangle, but was highlighted with purple and golden gems shaped as flower pedals. The shoulders were crowned with pearls, and diamonds ran down the loose, silk sleeves. A belt, encrusted with diamond flowers, shimmered in the sun.

Anna pulled the dress close and looked down. Looping one arm around the bodice, she ran her fingers over the skirt, touching purple gems. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

I had to agree.

Marshal Hill’s gruff voice broke into the dreamlike moment. “That the last of it? We best find a secure place for that.”

“No, there’s more.”

As Anna laid the dress on the table, I reached back in. Filling the bottom, a golden plate shimmered. I lifted it into the full light.

No, not a plate. A miniature shield.

I ran my fingers over the cold metal, tracing the outlines. Across the top, edged in a golden scroll, was the name Maxwell. Below, one half was painted red with a gold lion. The other half facing the lion was painted gold with a red lion.

Stumbling, I fell back on the bench near Scott’s head and stared at the shield.

“Philip?”

I looked at Anna, her concern jarring me from my shock. “F . . . F . . .” I cleared my throat. “Family crest.”

Anna brought a hand to her mouth.

She of all people understood the family connection, the bridge through time to pierce my heart.

I held a connection with my mother’s family.

How long I sat staring at the crest I don’t know, but I felt a touch on my arm and Rachel stood beside me, a cup of steaming something in her hand. I took the handle and sipped, scalding my mouth. I welcomed the burn.

“Thanks.”

“Philip?” Anna said from my other side. “Look at this.” She reached inside the cask and pulled out a yellowed scroll of paper and handed it to me. A red ribbon wrapped around the paper slipped off and fell to the floor.

I laid the crest on the table and set the scroll beside it. I leaned over, pressing my palms against the rough boards, and stared at the scroll. History—what I knew of my past—was being rewritten. I should be used to this by now. But the feeling was like carving the entire Devil’s Tower into something else. Nothing would be the same hereafter. There was no going back.

Every time I learned something new about my past, a little piece of me died. Perhaps that was me changing. The future Philip Anderson wasn’t the past Philip Anderson, as if I had to lay the previous man in the grave. He wasn’t coming back.

I stood in Caroline’s Kitchen, which held so many happy memories. My duster hung over my Smith and Wesson, a weapon I now never dream of being without. My friends were posted at the windows, watching for anyone who looked suspicious. Anna’s mother was dead. Jacob, my bitter foe, was still free. I’d met someone out there who might be faster at the draw than me. And here. Here at this table I was laying out riches that would make anyone king.

Might as well take the rest of the bad news. With a finger holding down the top of the page, I slid my other hand along the smooth paper until I pinned it to the table.

A red wax seal adorned the bottom.

Anna laid a hand on my back. “Philip, what does it say?”

I squinted at the faint ink. “Charles, King of this United Kingdom, by the grace of God.”

Anna sucked in a breath.

Everyone in the room looked at me.

I continued. “Now know ye that on this day, the year of our Lord Sixteen Hundred Forty and Four, Do hereby bestow for valour in the face of enemies of our High King the God of All upon Philip Maxwell the title of Baron and all the lands that are herein described.”

No one spoke. I let the letter roll back up, ignoring the rest.

Questions bombarded me. Baron? Wasn’t that a title? Philip Maxwell? A relative perhaps? One I was named after. And King Charles knew him. War hero?

“It’s a letters patent.”

I looked up at Anna.

“Kings, presidents, anyone in power can write one up and give something to anyone for any reason.”

“Ah.”

“Philip, you may have a bit of English blood.”

“I know. My mother.”

“But more than that.”

“More than what, Anna?”

“See what I have to deal with?” Scott said. “He’s fast with his hands but slow with his head sometimes.”

I knew exactly what they meant. But I wasn’t going to say it.

Anna, however, could. “He comes from a family with a title.”

A knock filled the room.

We pulled our guns and pointed them at the front door.