Wilde One (22 page)

“Let me.” Ainslee took the still dripping shirt and applied it to his face, wiping gently. “You have a decent-sized lump on your forehead.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He closed his hand over hers and tugged her forward. “I’m a little worried, Ainslee.”

“You think I’m not?” Her fingers trembled as she pressed them against his chest. “You could have been seriously injured—or worse.”

“You were in the line of fire, too, and I don’t like that one bit. The incident on the cliff was more than just an attempt to scare us. This person was trying to cause some serious damage.”

“Agreed, so what do we do?”

“You could stay here while I—”

She was shaking her head before the last words left his mouth. “No. We talked about this before. Despite my irrational fear of dark, dank caves, you aren’t going to stash me away in some hidey-hole like the lame heroine in a fairytale.”

“The ranch is hardly a hidey-hole.”

“You know what I mean”

He ran a hand through his hair. “This sucks. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What about you?”

He shrugged. “I’m bigger than you are. Anyway, my dad didn’t raise me to lead a woman into a dangerous situation.”

“Chauvinist.” She let out a sigh. “Can we at least wait until we see what’s in the boxes before we have this discussion?”

“I guess.”

She pulled the shirt away from him again and went to work on the cuts peppering his arms, swabbing away dried blood. “Scratches and nicks only. None are deep.” Stepping back, she studied him with a critical eye. “You might want to stick your head in the creek. Your hair has some blood in it from the cut on your forehead.”

“That water’s cold.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

A smile slipped out. “Now that you mention it, you don’t look so hot, yourself. There’s dirt on your face. Give me the shirt.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Just a little cleanup.” When she handed the shirt to him, he rinsed it out then wiped the dirt streaks off her cheeks. Her T-shirt was ripped at the shoulder, and a cut marred her skin not far from the graze she’d received in New Orleans. With care, he cleaned the area. “That’s better. I’ll dunk my head, and then we’ll go.”

The water took his breath away. With trickles running down his neck, he gave his head a hard shake. After wringing out the shirt a final time, he pulled the clammy cloth over his head, hoping it would dry on the way back to the ranch. “Ready?”

She nodded and mounted her horse. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Always dangerous.” Climbing up, he nudged Bramble into motion, leaving the stream behind.

“Funny. As I was saying, I’m inclined to believe the person who reached the caves before us doesn’t have any lead at all. He—I’m using
he
because I can’t begin to imagine Marietta scampering across those cliffs like a mountain goat—must have located his box, heard us coming and bolted up the hillside. I bet starting the avalanche was an impulse decision, not something planned in advance.”

“You’re probably right. It makes no sense for someone to sit up there for any length of time, waiting for the remaining contestants to show. It could be a day or two before the others turn up.”

“Much smarter to use any lead to get to the next clue rather than losing time waiting around to kill us.” Ainslee moved up beside him as the trail widened. “If this person reaches the prize first, he’ll claim the treasure. There’d be no reason to knock off the competition.”

“All good points. But now whoever it was isn’t in the lead. We’re tied again.”

“If we get a head start, he won’t be able to ambush us. We’ll be safe as long as he doesn’t catch up.”

“Unless the asshole simply waits around to follow us. It’s not like where we’re staying is a mystery.” Griff frowned. “He won’t even have to figure out the clue. We’ll lead him straight to the next destination.”

“Then we have to sneak away from the ranch when he isn’t expecting us to leave. If we ditch the guy, he’ll have to decipher the riddle himself. I bet we can figure it out first.”

Griff ran a hand through still damp hair. “I’m sure we can. Our problem is we haven’t exactly been speedy getting from one clue to the next. We’ve taken our time driving, checked out a few sights, visited with our families…”

“Hey, I caved in on the detour to see the Crazy Horse Monument, and we didn’t spend more than an hour at Mount Rushmore.”

“I know, Ains, and I feel bad we haven’t made more stops to feed your history addiction. I thought you were going to cry yesterday when we passed the sign advertising that children’s author museum.”

“Laura Ingalls Wilder. Only my favorite writer of all time. But I would have wanted to spend the whole day exploring De Smet. I’ll do it the next time I take a cross country trip.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’m only twenty-nine. I may still have a few good years of travel left in me.”

He snorted and laughed. “Tell you what. When we visit the ranch again, we’ll detour over to the other end of South Dakota. It can’t be more than a ten- or eleven-hour drive.”

“Aren’t you sweet? I know you’re joking, but I just might hold you to it.”

He wouldn’t mind. Traveling with Ainslee was a pleasure. They never fought over the radio station or which CD to listen to, and she liked having the windows rolled down almost as much as he did. Then there was the side benefit of evenings spent cuddled up in a tent or a motel room. Which made him wonder about sleeping arrangements for the night ahead. Surely his mother wouldn’t expect them to occupy separate bedrooms.

“Earth to Griff. Don’t fall off your horse.”

“Huh? Oh, I was thinking about something else.” He straightened and tightened his grip on the reins.

One of her brows rose. “The next clue?”

“Not exactly. How does this plan sound? When we get back, we’ll figure out where Victor is sending us next then spend the evening with my family since there’s no way in hell I can weasel out of that. After a few hours of sleep, we’ll get up at about three in the morning to take off. Thank God the garage had a tire waiting for us, so that problem is already solved. We’ll pray the crazy, freaking rock-pusher is sound asleep somewhere. Even if he’s camped nearby, hopefully he won’t hear us leave.”

“The moon is nearly full, so maybe we won’t have to use headlights.” She grinned. “Like an escape scene in a movie. I always wanted to try that.”

“Sawyer and I did it once when we snuck out to go to a party. I probably wasn’t even legal to drive, though we’d both been operating ranch vehicles since we were about twelve. I landed us in a ditch. Dad had to haul the pickup out with a winch the next morning. Bent the axel.”

Her smile widened, and a giggle slipped out. “I bet you were in big trouble.”

“Oh, yeah. Dad was seriously pissed.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

“I did. At the time, I wasn’t very happy about being grounded for a month.”

“You’re lucky you only got a month.”

They rode in comfortable silence for several minutes. One more thing he loved about Ainslee, almost as much as her extreme hotness and cute smile. She didn’t feel compelled to chatter twenty-four seven. Hell, he probably talked more than she did. And when they did have a conversation, it flowed easily. Natural and unforced.

When the treasure hunt was over and she went off to a new teaching job, he’d flat-out miss not having her around every day.

“Are those more of Eden’s rescue horses?”

He glanced in the direction she pointed. A couple of mangy, skinny Appaloosas regarded them from behind a pasture fence. When he dismounted to open the gate, they kicked up their heels and bolted. “Must be new arrivals. She’ll tame them in time.”

Ainslee rode through. “It seems like more fun than trying to turn wild teens into responsible students. Maybe I’m in the wrong line of work.”

“You’re just burned out. Temporarily.” He shut the gate and swung up onto Bramble then kicked him into a trot. “Sometimes Eden gets frustrated and takes a break between horses.”

“I guess that’s why they invented summer vacation. Teachers need the time off more than the kids.”

“You’re probably right.”

They stopped near the side door to the barn and dismounted. Griff hauled the saddles inside then returned with a couple of curry combs and handed one to Ainslee. They worked quickly and efficiently to brush down their horses. While they were busy, Eden’s border collies strolled over and sat, tongues hanging.

“They’re beautiful.” Ainslee paused to pat each dog in turn. “What’re their names?”

“The female is Cookie, and the male is Cracker. They’re horrible beggars.” He waved his hand. “No treats. Scram.”

Standing, they both scampered off. After finishing with the horses, Griff and Ainslee turned them loose then headed toward the front porch with the daypack.

Griff dropped onto one of the deck chairs and pointed to the other. “Sit. We should have a little time since Mom hasn’t rung the dinner bell yet. Let’s see if we can decipher the clues.” He pulled the boxes out of the pack and set both on a low table between them. “I’m starting to understand how old Victor thought. Scary, but it makes figuring out the riddles easier.”

“You realize you probably just jinxed us by saying that?” Her tone was dark.

“I don’t believe in jinxes.” He inserted the screwdriver he’d taken from the tack room in the crack between the lid and the box and pried it open. “Let’s see what we have this time.”

Ainslee’s hair dangled in the box as she peered inside. “Cut up photographs? Is there a note with them?”

Griff sorted through the pile of snapshot pieces and let out a long breath. “There doesn’t appear to be. The pictures are just fragments. How’re we supposed to tell where they were taken?”

“I guess that’s the challenge.”

He gritted his teeth. “Have I mentioned before how much I dislike Victor?”

She flashed a bright smile. “A time or two. Maybe twenty.”

“It bears repeating.”

Eden pushed her empty plate away to plant an elbow on the table. “Maybe the clue is a giant picture puzzle. If you spread out all the pieces, they’ll fit together.”

Ainslee glanced at Griff’s sister across the table. “That’s what I thought at first. But some of the pieces have a yellowish quality, and others don’t. They don’t all match.”

“Ah, like those snapshots Grandpa keeps in his ancient, falling-apart photo albums. The really old pictures from back when he was young.”

“Hey!” Jasper Wilde’s white brows beetled over eyes the gray of a stormy sky. “Watch what you’re saying, young lady.”

“Sorry, Grandpa.” She flashed him a smile. “What I meant was when you were young and even better looking than you are now.”

Stormy gray gave way to a definite twinkle. “That’s better.”

Ainslee pressed a hand to her lips to keep from laughing out loud. Their grandpa was a riot, with a quick wit and a bit of a temper to match.

Griff laid down his fork. “There must be several pictures in each box. Obviously we’ll have to figure them all out to find the exact location, but if we can assemble even one or two photographs, they might reveal the town or city we’re headed to next.”

“Now that’s smart thinking.” Griff’s dad wiped his mouth with a napkin then tossed it on his plate. “You can work on the remaining pictures while you drive.” He glanced over at his wife. “Excellent dinner, honey.”

“Thank you.” Dahlia pushed back her chair. “I know you’re all dying to work on those photos. Go get busy. I’ll bring the dessert in later.”

“But the dishes…” Ainslee glanced around. The three men wore blank looks, as if she were speaking a foreign language.

Eden’s eyes held sympathy. “If you’re thinking beyond the dating stage with Griff, you should be forewarned. Mom failed to teach my brothers domestic skills.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes. “Hey, I tried, but I got no backup.”

“I can cook.” Griff scowled at his sister.

“I heard you tell Tripp once that dishes were beneath you.”

“Oh, really? He said that?” Ainslee eyed Griff up and down. “Good to know.”

Dahlia patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past his chair. “Good thing you have other positive qualities. Tonight, though, I’m sure Eden would love to help me in the kitchen.”

Ainslee started to rise. “I can certainly help—”

“Don’t be silly, though I appreciate the offer. Go figure out the puzzle. My guess is you’re excellent at that sort of thing.”

“She is.” Griff stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s do this so we can get some sleep.”

Griff’s dad and grandpa followed them into the living room to the long table against the wall where they’d spread out the photo pieces in two separate areas. Rocky trailed along behind, jumped up onto the end of a leather couch then settled with a thump.

“Hey, get off there!”

“Let him be, Ainslee. Eden’s dogs sleep on the couches all the time.” Jasper leaned on his cane as he turned his attention to the photos. “Are the pictures in each box the same?”

Griff planted both hands on the edge of the table. “They seem to be, Grandpa. All the other riddles had one little difference to direct the contestants to their next individual clue. I image this one is similar.”

“Not if these pictures lead to the actual treasure.” The elderly man’s voice was gruff. “That Victor can’t keep stringing you along indefinitely. Unless there really is no prize at the end.”

“Believe me, the thought’s crossed my mind.” Griff pointed to the nearest pile. “Let’s focus on one box only. No point in working on both just to get the general location.”

“Good idea.” Ainslee stepped up to the table. “We can divide up the pieces by matching color and texture first.” She held out a rectangular chunk. “This is matte finish. Most of the others are glossy.”

Griff slapped his forehead then winced. “I should have thought of that.”

Boyd grinned, looking strikingly similar to his son. Griff could do a lot worse than to age into a replica of his father. With his firm jaw and twinkling blue eyes beneath a full head of graying hair, the man reminded Ainslee of the mature movie stars in classic pictures.