The Treasure Hunter's Lady (31 page)

She laughed and hugged him close. Everything was going to be all right now. He’d take her to Texas just like he promised and they’d start a life together. “We'd better go find that balloon or we'll be stuck here forever.”

“Don't want that. I've had enough of Dakota to last me a good long while.” He turned to the Diamond lying on the ground before them, smooth and round, clearer than crystal, about the size of an ostrich egg.

She wondered if they ought to touch it. It was part of Uktena and whatever Ten Horses had intended the Serpent to do originally, it had turned evil. It made sense that the Diamond contained some of that evil as well. She reached for the fang hanging inside her shirt, to find nothing more than the leather strap and sticky slime. The fang was gone, just like the Horned Serpent.
Good riddance.

Abel stared at the sparkling stone. “We'll take it to White Elk, or Ten Horses. Whoever he is. Let the Indians decide what to do with it.”

Gravel crunched behind them and Romy turned to see Andrew Christensen drawing his pistol.

“Expectations can be a terrible thing. Especially when one believes one will meet those expectations. Unfortunately for the two of you, that isn't going to happen.”

The words were punctuated with the sharp click of a hammer falling into place.

He pointed the gun at them. More specifically, at her. Abel grabbed her wrist, clearly intending to step in front of her, but she wrenched free.

“You! Where's my father?”

The dapper gentleman from the party had disappeared, replaced by a wrinkled, smiling madman. “You look well, Mr. Courte. Much healthier than when I last saw you. You were quite pathetic laying on my carpet in Boston. Yes, I'm aware of that treacherous Huber's involvement in this. All a part of Maggard's little scheme to save the day.”

Romy searched the area behind Christensen. There wasn't any sign of Papa.

“We saw the entire battle from the air. You did a spectacular job of handling that beast, Mr. Courte. I doubted the creature’s existence the entire time. You know how these Indians can be, full of big stories and peyote in their pipes, clouding the truth with fiction. It's not often I'm wrong. I'll concede to this one.” Christensen's little eyes widened with glee when he saw the Diamond. “Now, if the pair of you will stand aside, I'll pack up our prize and be on my way.”

Abel stepped around Romy. “You can't take that.”

She tried to capture his hand, but he didn't seem to notice her attempt. “Please be careful,” she whispered.

Christensen sneered. “Why ever not? Haven't I as much right to it as filthy savages? More right than they, because I intend to use it to cure the world of death and disease.”

“At what cost?” Abel took another step.

The gun barrel swung up at him. “Not so close if you care to continue enjoying your newly recovered health. I won’t permit you to use the Diamond to heal this time. Not without a fee.”

“Exactly my point. If you allowed everyone to use it without cost, I might consider letting you have it. But I made a promise that I'd never let it fall into untrustworthy hands. I'm not willing to go back on that promise.”

Christensen's eyes flickered to the jewel. “Promises are made to be broken. You must have some idea of that at your age.”

“This one wasn't.”

“All of them,” Christensen insisted. “For example, my ignorant nephew still believes he's going to marry Miss Farrington. But if you don't get out of my way, I'll shoot a hole clean through her and do the same to you when you turn to mourn over her delectable body.”

Romy flinched. She curled her fingers around Abel's arm. “Let's do as he says. Neither of us has a weapon. My Lighthouser lost its charge.”

“There's a girl.” Christensen used the gun to wave them aside.

Abel swore under his breath, calling the older man every name Romy had ever heard and then some. She clutched his hand, but searched the narrow path of canyon for her father. He'd save them, surely he would.

The mad laughter that left Christensen's mouth was almost as chilling as Uktena’s. She watched him lift the Diamond, cradling it in his arms. His gun had fallen to the wayside, forgotten in the sparkling glory of the stone.

Abel stared hard at the gun. “If we were closer.”

“Let's go. He's not paying attention to us. We can probably leave him here and go back to town.”

His hands balled into fists. “I promised I wouldn’t let anyone get it. I can’t stand by and let him take it.”

“You’re not going over there. Come on.” She tugged his arm. “You promised to take care of me before you made any vows to White Elk. I want to go before he remembers we’re here.”

“I’ll get it back. If I have to die trying, he’s not going to have the Diamond for long.”

The fury in his eyes was enough to frighten Romy, but she pulled him toward the gateway. Her pack was forgotten, still under the ledge. They had no supplies, no food. All the more reason to find Papa and get out. Maybe Christensen would lose his way and wind up lost out here. Maybe they’d never see him again. Romy knew better than to hope, but she just wanted to be somewhere safe for a while.

****

A shadow stretched in front of them. For a few seconds, Abel thought one of the Indians had come. Maggard Farrington came around a corner, gun first. He sighed with obvious relief when he saw them and smiled at Romy. The gray cast of his face was replaced by the ruddy red look fair-skinned men got when they undertook physical labor. Romy let go of Abel and threw herself at her father, hard enough to knock him back a couple of steps.

“Papa!”

Abel kept his distance, allowing them a moment to appreciate each other. He was torn between the desire to go back for the Diamond and return to Texas to make sure Caden was all right.

Maggard laughed and patted her back. “You're alive. My God, Romancia, I thought you'd be eaten when you faced down that monster. Don't ever let me catch you doing something like that again.”

“Not as long as I live.”

Tears welled in her eyes when she pulled back from her father's grip.

“Are you all right? When Uktena died, the tattoo on Abel's chest faded. He seems to be as healthy as ever,” Romy said. “Please tell me you're all right too.”

Maggard's eyebrows rose. “His chest, Romancia? What were you doing looking at a strange man's chest?”

A dark blush crawled up from her neckline. She looked between Maggard and Abel, but she wouldn't catch Abel's eye. “All in the name of science, Papa. Though we need to tell you—”

Abel stepped forward. “Now's not quite the time, if you'll excuse me for butting in. I'd like to borrow a gun if I may. Christensen has his greedy hands all over the Diamond.”

Maggard offered the pistol in his hand to Abel. “Of course. He mustn't be allowed to take it. That was never my intention. I planned to find the Diamond, use it to gain the cure for the venom and smuggle it away from Andrew. If I failed, I hoped you might accomplish what I hadn’t, Abel.” Maggard looked at his daughter. “I never really intended for you to go through with marrying Woefield. I just wanted to ensure Andrew’s cooperation, my dear.”

“I know, Papa. None of it matters now.” Romy smiled at him. “We can discuss it all later. You don’t even have half the story. You’ll never believe it.”

 “The balloon is anchored just past the rock with the serpent painting. You'll wait for us there.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “I suppose there's no arguing this.”

“You're not going to?” Abel's surprise came out in the question. She shook her head. “But you hate it when men try to convince you a situation is too dangerous.”

“I've reached my tolerance for participating in hair-raising heroics today. Someone needs to get the balloon ready to go. I've no intentions of staying any longer than necessary.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. “Besides, the two of you can handle one eccentric businessman who likely doesn't have the faintest idea what to do with a gun. Just remember, I won’t feel sorry for either of you if you come back bleeding. Well, maybe you, Papa, as we haven't seen each other in so long.”

Abel studied her. There was no accounting for the way the female mind worked. She smiled winningly. No wonder Maggard had never denied her a request. “I'll remember that when I'm picking out engagement rings.”

The look Maggard gave him could have burnt toast. Abel was glad he was holding the other man’s weapon.

Romy cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the path. “That can wait. Plenty of time to discuss nuptials after you've finished saving the day.”

“And we will be discussing them after we have a thorough talk about inappropriate relations between unmarried men and women.” Maggard removed a snub-nosed pistol from the top of his boot and pointed it at Abel's feet. “Not to mention what Caden and Patience will have to add to the subject.”

Abel swallowed. “I'm sure it'll be an interesting conversation. In the meantime, can we get the Diamond away from Christensen?”

One sharp nod was the Englishman's answer. He set off, a mean little glimmer in his eye.

“Be careful,” Romy cautioned. She smiled at Abel, a smile reserved for lovers, one that promised him heaven. The kind guaranteed to make Maggard shoot him.

That was the most danger Abel ever wanted to be in again. He shook his head, hiding a smile from her. With the aid of the balloon, they'd be back in Bismarck in no time, then aboard the
Ursula Ann
and on their way home. He'd never looked forward to something so much.

Abel stood behind Maggard as they peered over a rock they'd chosen for cover. Christensen carried the Diamond under one arm, his gun held loosely in the other hand. Every few seconds, he looked down at the jewel like he couldn't believe his luck.

“Andrew! Put your weapon and the Diamond down.”

Christensen started and raised his gun. His arm tightened around the Diamond while he scanned the rocks. “Farrington? What are you doing here? I told you to stay with the balloon!”

“I can't let you bring that back. You must leave it behind. ”

“Are you mad? We'll be rich beyond imagination. You'll never lack for funding to find more artifacts like this. No one will care that your daughter is a mouthy bitch. You'll be swimming through suitors. Everything will be just as it should be, Maggard. Think of the reception that will be waiting for us in Boston.
First
Boston. Then the world.”

Abel took a step to go around the rock, his gun cocked and ready to be fired, but Maggard grabbed his sleeve and shook his head.

“I'll pardon the name calling this once, Andrew. Next time, I'll shoot you. If exploring is the only thing that makes Romancia happy, then I don't care if she ever gets married. I only let you talk me into that horrible arrangement with your nephew because I knew I'd die without your help. Things have changed a bit, my old friend.”

Christensen spat on the ground, looking disgusted. “You'll have to kill me to get this rock out of my hands. I don't believe you have it in you.”

“He might not, but I do on the principle that no one threatens or insults the woman I love. You've already given me reason enough to put a hole in you. Drop the Diamond and kick the gun over here.” Abel, tired of games, of Christensen's nasally voice and of Dakota Territory, was ready to shoot him.

Christensen fired off a shot. It scorched the rock in front of them and Abel cringed as Maggard ducked.

“Well, so much for easy.” Abel rose and leveled the barrel of his gun, firing a shot of his own. Another of Christensen's whizzed by his head. If he'd been wearing a hat, the blast would've taken it.

Maggard grabbed his collar and jerked him down again. “This is getting us nowhere.” He stuffed his pistol back in his boot and stepped around the rock before Abel could protest. Hands above his head, he faced Christensen.

“I'm unarmed now. We should talk this out like the reasonable men we are. All this cowboy nonsense is for penny dreadfuls.”

“Dammit all to hell, Maggard,” Abel grumbled. “Crazy bastard.”

Abel raised himself enough to see over the top of the rock, enough to see Christensen's angry red face. He lined the gun sights up so they pointed right at Christensen's chest. His finger curled around the trigger. A green hummingbird with a red throat fluttered in front of the barrel and he stared at it, amazed to see another living creature in the canyon. He looked down at his feet and discovered tiny plants sprouting between the rocks. With the Horned Serpent gone, its hellish lair was fading. The hummingbird darted off.

“Andrew.” A note of pleading came out in Maggard’s voice. “Let's put the gun away for now and we'll discuss the rightful ownership of the Diamond.”

A war whoop shattered the scene. Mounted Indians burst from nowhere with war lances, tomahawks and strung bows in their hands. Abel dropped the gun, fumbled to recover it, but couldn't peel his eyes away from the cold terror on Christensen's face.

“Wait!” Abel yelled, standing up. He threw his hands in the air, trying to get the warriors to pay attention to him.

The braves surrounded Maggard and Christensen, pointing a variety of sharp-tipped weapons at the men. The Diamond hit the ground with a thud. Yellow Knife, nostrils flaring and mouth set in a harsh slash, spun his horse and faced Abel.

“You led these men here! After taking a blood vow that no further harm would befall the Diamond.”

Abel's mouth went desert dry. “I didn't lead anyone here. They came the same way Romy and I did, with a fang from Uktena's mouth to guide them. We're trying our damnedest to get the Diamond away from him right now. Or we were until you boys interfered.” He glared at Yellow Knife, not about to be driven back. “Speaking of, I thought you didn't come here. Too afraid of a little serpent to risk your lives.”

“Your task is finished. Take your woman and leave.” Yellow Knife pointed his lance in the direction of the gateway. He spoke over his shoulder, apparently directing one of the warriors to get the Diamond. Christensen lunged, diving to the ground to throw his arms around it.

The warriors went wild, shouting and jabbing their lances. Maggard pushed through the crowd, running toward Abel.