Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (16 page)

No mention of love, no exchange of heartfelt vows, as would’ve been in the longer ceremony. “I do.”

“Alyssa Jane, do you accept Jeremiah as your legal husband?”

“I do.” She squeezed his hand.

“By law, I present Jeremiah and Alyssa Treasure.” Good man, he’d inserted the legal terms as Jeremiah had requested.

Jeremiah turned Alyssa by the shoulders and lowered his lips to hers. The twilight framed her face, making the freckles across her nose glow.

“What a pathetic ceremony,” Greenwood roared. “Short and ugly. That the best you folks can do out here on the prairie?”

“Thank you, sir.” Jeremiah shook the magistrate’s hand. “If you could, I would like a request put out across the town. Alyssa will need house servants and I’ll need fresh farm hands. It looks like the army can’t run a ranch worth their lives.”

Greenwood’s eyes bulged. “There won’t be any new folks allowed on here.”

The magistrate lifted his hand. “The request doesn’t get in the way of the army policy of occupying private land. If you want, Captain, I can show you the documents and get the town lawyer to explain it in more detail.”

Greenwood sputtered before clamping his lips shut.

“This is my ranch now,” Jeremiah said. “I’ll run it as I see fit. It’s too big for me to run, and unless you and your men want to pick up a shovel to muck out a stall, then I’ll be hiring some new hands.”

“Mr. Treasure.” The magistrate shook with him again. “Expect a whole line of workers sometime tomorrow. I’ll drop them off personally.”

lark covered his face with his hands and sighed. The rock he sat upon dug into his bottom. Why couldn’t it be soft, like the stream that gurgled in front of him?

Amethyst leaned her forehead against the back of his head. “I think it’s a smashing idea.”

“You would,” he muttered into his palms. Another girl might’ve fainted at the prospect. Then again, that was why he loved her. She wasn’t just another girl in Hedlund. She was… Amethyst.

“Senator Horan is a very bad man. Why shouldn’t he be eliminated?”

“You can hide your identity.” Eric floated over the stream. “No one needs to know Clark Treasure or Clark Grisham did it. You’ll have me at your side, Clark. I’ll tell you which rooms to avoid, where the guards are waiting.”

Clark parted his fingers to stare at his father through them. “Have you done this before?”

“What did he say?” Amethyst clenched Clark’s shoulders.

Eric shook his head. “Senator Horan ordered my murder. You really think I want to see him live when I don’t get to hold my grandchildren?”

“He wants us to have grandkids,” Clark said.

Eric sighed in his breathless way. “The west isn’t a proper place. There are villains and heroes. Sometimes the heroes have to eliminate the villains.”

“Who decides who the hero is?” Clark asked. “I’ve only killed when I’ve had to.”

“You have to now,” Eric whispered. “For your family. Amethyst. The Treasures.”

“Clark?” Amethyst whispered.

He repeated what Eric had said. “Where do I stop? After Horan, do I take out Greenwood too? The whole army?”

She nodded. “If you have to.”

Amethyst had no idea how the world worked. He’d seen men who started killing and couldn’t stop until the deaths had caught up with them. A sloppy shot or a vengeful enemy put a bullet through them.

“Clark? Am?” Branches crunched, drawing closer. Clark stood and Amethyst gripped his arm.

“Father, we’re here,” she called. “Beside the river.”

Clark winced. She would need to learn that while on the run, yelling in the middle of the woods, let alone responding to their given names, could mean evil.

Garth pushed through the pine trees. Clark held his breath as he waited to hear what Garth wanted. Would it be to question why Clark and Amethyst had shared a bed? Clark had assumed no one noticed anything besides a brother comforting a younger sister, and in the anxiety of the moment, perhaps no one had given it a thought.

Garth coughed. “We need to stay together. We’re a family, a team.”

“Hi, Garth,” Eric whispered. Clark’s heartbeat sped.

Amethyst shrugged off her father’s words. “I was telling Clark what a great idea it would be to terminate Senator Horan.”

Garth narrowed his eyes. “That’s a horrible idea. Treasures don’t kill needlessly.”

Neither did a Grisham. Clark glanced at Eric. His father wanted to protect him, and he saw that as the way. Should Clark do it, just to seek revenge for Eric’s death? Did two deaths make it right?

“Georgette and I know what we’ll do,” Garth said. “I’ve met with the president in the past and once he stayed at the ranch when he visited Hedlund. We’ll explain the situation to him.”

Clark tensed. “He won’t care. The army—the
government
—wants us.”

“The president knows I’m an honest man who runs an honorable empire. He will listen to me. We’ll get back our holdings and he’ll give you a pardon.”

“Why would he do that?” Could Garth Treasure really be that influential?

“Tell him it’s a bad idea,” Eric hissed.

“Father, that’s wonderful!” Amethyst hugged him around the neck, giggling.

“You’ll tell him about the tonic? My… abilities?” Clark scratched his cheek. “That’s what the government wants.”

“Garth is too honest,” Eric exclaimed. “It won’t work. These men don’t follow rules. I know, Clark. I worked with them. I made them the tools they wanted. Garth worked to better the land and I… I helped them take it over.”

“Of course we’ll tell them.” Garth kissed his daughter’s head. “Secrets will hinder us. We need to be open. They need to trust us.”

“They’ll take me,” Clark stated. “You don’t want that.”

“Of course we don’t want that. They can’t take you against your will. You didn’t agree to become their test subject. It was an accident. The president will understand.”

“Father will protect you.” Amethyst held out her hand for Clark. “This is the most amazing idea!”

“You’ll need to ask the Bromi chief to have his warriors escort us as far east as they dare. We’ll make it to New Addison City,” Garth said.

“We’re going home,” Amethyst squealed.

Clark drew a deep breath. He’d decided to go to Garth so he could use the Treasure name as protection. Garth could fulfill that role now. Eric had hidden from Clark all those years of running, when he’d felt alone and lost, helpless.

Eric
had
created wicked inventions just for the love of inventing, while Garth adhered to his pride in the country.

Clark exhaled slowly. “All right. We’ll do it your way. I’m sick of running.” Garth’s plan could end all that.

The Bromi chief halted his horse and lifted his hand. The party following him slowed, keeping to the plains where the heather swayed in the wind. A mile or two out lay the darkness of a town. Lights twinkled, and what sounded like a steam train whistled.

“Here we stop.” The chief stared at Clark, who’d ridden at his side. “This town is kind to us. We have traded with them and they have not reported us. We dare not go any further.”

“We thank you.” Clark bowed his head. Amethyst, seated behind him, followed suit. Her arms squeezed his ribs.

“You look ill with worry,” the chief said. “My plan will remain if yours fails. Be brave and walk not with death as a cloud, but as a shadow, forever at your use.”

Clark winced. “I have to trust Garth. I don’t know a lot. I’m not up on the law. I’m a miner, the son of a Tarnished Silver—”

“You are the one death touched and left whole.”

Could that mean something? Clark bowed his head. “Thank you for your guidance.”

He slid off the horse’s back and helped Amethyst down. Garth, Georgette, and Zachariah followed. They’d ridden borrowed horses like he had, but Amethyst hadn’t had the experience to handle a mount well over the rough terrain. The warriors trailing the chief took the reins to guide the horses back to the tribe.

With them, went Clark’s opportunity to follow his own path, to obey his father.

He turned toward the city. Garth had to be trusted.

Amethyst bounced on her heels. As soon as they reached the city, she would show Clark her favorite restaurants. She would show him the finishing school she’d attended and the ice cream parlor where she’d had her first kiss.

Maybe not that parlor.

She grabbed his hand and swung it. “Relax. Father will take care of everything.”

Her father fished bills from the sack he’d taken from that disgusting shed cellar and handed them to the ticket man behind the counter at the train station.

Clark remained as straight as a glass stylus.

“Please relax?” She batted her eyelashes. “Do it for me?”

“Hush.” Georgette grabbed her arm, turning her from Clark. “Act your age and leave your brother alone.”

Brother. Ha. Amethyst jerked away. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Names?” The ticket seller pushed back her father’s change in coins.

“G. Peterson,” he said. “My wife, Mrs. Peterson. Our children. Put them as C., Z., and A. Peterson.”

The ticket seller blinked, cocking his head. “If you insist.” He scribbled the names into his ledger.

Amethyst shifted her stance. Why hadn’t her father made up names for them? Using their initials sounded suspicious. Clark had insisted on doing nothing, if they could help it, out of the ordinary. People riding trains always used their full names, from what she understood.