9781631054617HeLovesMeCole Page 13

  “Pa, what are you doing in here?” Ben entered the spring house with cautious steps, glancing around as he approached his father. “If Tom catches you, he’ll call the law. You know that.”

  His father was on his knees near the far wall. Ben wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but he sure wasn’t praying.

  The man threw down the spade in his hand and rose. “Damn it, Benny, instead of yapping at me, why can’t you ever come to me and ask what I need?” He brushed his hands against his work pants and shook his head. “You really don’t know what I’m here for? I thought you were brighter than that, boy.”

  He knew the answer, of course, but pretended otherwise. Rather than risk giving away what little knowledge he’d gained, better to let his father share what information he would.

  “What’s this all about?” Ben glanced toward the door. “Seriously, Pa, if anybody catches you here, there’ll be trouble. I don’t think you want that, do you?”

  “No, of course not.” The man muttered a few words under his breath, then picked up the glowing lantern. He turned the wick down. “You’re right. I can’t afford to get caught. Neither can you, for that matter.”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “No?” John Brooks chuckled. “You had the misfortune of being born, son. You’re my flesh and blood, the product of my loins. You’ve got my name, you’ve got my damned wiry hair on your head, and you’ve got my eyes.”

  Ben swallowed back a bitter taste. “None of that was my doing. Can’t help what the Lord gave me.”

  “Weren’t the Lord, boy. You were conceived by the devil. He saw fit to cut us from the same cloth. We’ve been torn asunder for a time, but we’re together again now, Benny.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Ben kept his eyes on his father. Although he wanted to cry out in protest, a voice inside warned him to stand fast, to hear all the man had to say. Knowledge was still the greatest power.

  Finally, after a moment of silence, he nodded, as if in assent. “Yeah, right. Guess it’s time we had ourselves a good, long talk.” He grinned. “Let’s put our heads together, Pa, and figure out where we go from here.”

  “That’s a good boy.” The older Brooks came over and extended a hand to his son. He smiled when Ben reached out and took it. “I always knew you’d come around, Benny. Like father, like son. We’re two of a kind, we are.”

  * * * *

  The meeting between them lasted long into the night. Thankfully his father’s presence at the bunkhouse went unnoticed by anyone else. John Brooks slipped away in the early hours before dawn, leaving his son to ponder all they’d discussed.

  Soon after sunrise, Ben rode out toward the valley alongside his boss. He hoped his father had gone back to town and was not somewhere lurking around, watching his every move.

  “So, what’s on your mind?” Tom asked as they climbed a small ridge. “You said you needed to talk.” He threw a quick glance in the direction of the house they’d left behind. “I figured coming out here would give us a bit of privacy.”

  “Yeah, it does. Thanks.” Ben tipped his hat toward the man. He had a lot of respect for Tom Henderson, but he wasn’t sure they saw eye-to-eye on certain things…like how to deal with trouble. “I’m concerned,” he said, after letting out a long, slow breath. “I’m a bit uncertain about a few things, too, so bear with me, all right?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “It’s my father.”

  Tom’s features hardened. “I gave him a chance, Ben. Looks like he wasn’t willing to accept it.”

  “This isn’t about Lucille’s pearls. It’s not about your decision to fire him. Frankly, I’m glad you did. What I don’t understand,” he went on, pushing his hat back on his head, “is why you hired him on in the first place.”

  They rode at a slow, easy pace. Tom nodded in rhythm with his big stallion’s steps. “I see,” he said in a quiet voice. “I suppose putting your old man to work here might have seemed a bit odd.”

  “Very odd.”

  “Well, when he showed up here, I knew he was up to something. Didn’t have to do too much brainwork to figure it out, actually. He came out here looking for Joe Love’s gold.”

  The words took Ben aback. Had he been the only one who hadn’t seen the truth? Deep inside his chest, a lot of old hurts fought their way to the surface. Throughout his life, he’d wished for a father of whom he could be proud, but at least, he knew who his father was. That was more than Tom Henderson could say.

  “I’m not a fool,” his boss continued. “Maybe I’m not the smartest fellow in these parts, but I’ve learned a few things in my life. If I don’t trust a man, I like to stay close to him.”

  “So you hired him on so you could watch him?”

  “More or less. I mean, I’m all for giving a man a chance. I know people can change.”

  “Not my father.” Ben shook his head.

  “Probably not. But when he showed up here, I knew it had to be for one of two reasons. Maybe he wanted to be near his son, wanted to make amends for the past, that sort of thing. Or maybe he just figured on using you to get hired on so he could do a bit of digging around.” Tom turned his head and stared off toward the foothills. “I guess I never thought about him stealing from me, from my family.”

  “He swears he didn’t take those pearls.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Truer words, he’d never spoken. Beyond his own name, Ben couldn’t be certain of a damned thing. He stared off toward the horizon. “Here’s what I don’t understand, Tom. Yeah, my father’s looking for that gold. We both know that now. But no way is he responsible for all the troubles around here. You saw his release papers, same as I did. When the troubles started out here, Pa was still locked away.”

  Tom shrugged. “Maybe he forged the date. Hell, maybe he forged the papers. For all we know, the law could be looking for him now.”

  “Nobody would have to look too hard to find him. If he was a fugitive from justice, Caleb Bryant would have ridden out here straight away and hauled his ass back to jail. Even now, Pa’s hanging around Sunset, as far as I know. He spends most of his time, I think, at the saloon.

  “Suppose so.” Tom seemed to chew on that thought for a minute. “All the same, I think our troubles are over, Ben.”

  “I don’t think it’s wise to be complacent. Yes, I know my father wants that gold, but something tells me there’s more going on. I think we need to stay vigilant.”

  “A wise man always keeps his eye open for trouble, Ben.”

  True, enough. But it was like he’d told Emily. If you go looking for snakes, you might find them.

  * * * *

  Late that evening, a quiet tapping at the bunkhouse door caught Ben’s attention. At first, he thought he might be hearing things, but when the noise persisted, he put aside the novel he’d been reading and glanced toward the window. His father again, no doubt.

  But when he opened the door, Della White stood outside. She peered over her shoulder, drew her shawl close, then looked up at Ben.

  “Let me come in, please. It’s important. I need to talk to you.”

  “Della, I don’t think…”

  She didn’t let him finish but pushed past him then turned and closed the door behind her. “What’s your father up to?” she asked, giving him a cold, hard look. “He was here last night. I saw him. He was digging in the spring house.”

  “I have no idea what he’s doing,” he lied. “I mean, he’s down on his luck, out of work. Maybe he’s digging up root vegetables or something.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he realized how stupid they sounded. “Maybe that’s where Lucille keeps them,” he added in a desperate attempt to make his remarks sound at least slightly plausible. From the way Della pursed her lips and glared at him, he knew he’d failed.

  “He’s hunting for the treasure, isn’t he?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that what you’re doing here, too? Are you and y
our father working together to try to find the gold? Are the two of you hoping to strike it rich?”

  Ben stumbled backward, grabbing at the corner of the desk to keep from falling. “You know about the gold? About Joe Love? The legends?”

  She made a slight grimace, sighed, and then nodded. “I’m not who you think I am, Ben. The truth is, I’m Joe Love’s daughter.”

  His heart beat a crazy rhythm. His pulse raced. “You’re joking.”

  “No, it’s true. Listen to me, Ben, please. I know you’re shocked, and to tell the truth, that’s how I felt when I first found out.”

  “I’m confused. You mean…you didn’t know he was your father?” He scratched at his jaw, trying to put together the few pieces she’d given him. “How could you…not know?”

  “I was raised in Iowa by my mother and grandmother. My mother was an adventurous sort, apparently.” She turned away. “I always thought her so quiet and refined, almost meek,” she said in her low-pitched voice. “She came west back in the fifties, against her mother’s wishes, of course. Grandmother Webber was quite strict, quite proper in all ways.”

  “Your mother sounds like a bit of a rebel.”

  “I suppose she probably grew tired of following all the rules. I know I sometimes found myself chafing at them a bit. Anyway,” she continued, crossing the room and plopping down in a chair, “my mother set off for Oregon, lured by promises of adventure and who knows what. Somewhere along the way, she met my father. I never thought there was such a thing as love at first sight, but according to her, that’s how it happened between them.”

  Ben leaned closer. “How did you find out…about your mother and father?”

  “My mother took sick. Grandmother had passed on years before, so it was only the two of us. I took care of her the best I could, tried to ease her aches and pains, tried to soothe her spirit, too. It’s a hard thing, Ben, to watch someone close to you die.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure it is.”

  “I loved my mother. More than that, I trusted her. I believed everything I was told. When I was growing up, you see, she told me wonderful stories about my father.”

  “Wonderful? Joe Love?”

  Della shook her head. “No. George White. That’s who I believed my father to be. She made him up. She made up the entire story about him. The long and short of it, Ben, is that my mother loved my father. They had an affair. I guess he wanted to marry her, but as she realized the sort of man he was, and as she realized he wasn’t going to change…he couldn’t be the man she wanted. He couldn’t give her the life she wanted. She refused to marry him. Of course, at the time, she didn’t know she was carrying me. But when she found out, she fabricated a story about George White, a prospector she’d met. Joe gave her money enough to go home to Iowa, and he vowed he’d win her back.” A wistful smile appeared. “For all the gruffness, all the wildness of his life…underneath it all, he must have been a true romantic. He sent letters to Mama. And gifts.”

  “What about your grandmother?” he asked. “Did she know the truth?”

  “Not at first. Finally, though, when my father continued sending presents, my mother confessed the truth to her. Grandmother was mortified, of course. She swore never to divulge the truth, and insisted Mama keep her secrets, too. So far as I know, never once was the matter ever discussed between them again.”

  “Must have been really hard to hear the truth.”

  Della nodded. “Shortly before my mother died, she called me to her bedside. She knew it was her time, and she didn’t want to die with a load of guilt and lies on her conscience. She told me everything.”

  “You must have been shocked.”

  “That would be one rather understated way of putting it.” Her cheeks turned spotted and red when she looked up. “Think of it, Ben. How would you feel if you suddenly learned that everything you’d been told was a lie? If everything you thought you knew about yourself and your life was wrong?”

  He couldn’t begin to imagine. “I think I’d feel awful.”

  “Awful. Yes.” Della heaved a long sigh. “I came west, angry, bitter, and determined to find out all I could about Joe Love.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I know he’s not what folks would consider a fine, upstanding citizen, but his life meant something to me. I wanted to know him, to know everything about him.”

  “You didn’t know about him getting shot? You didn’t know he was dead?”

  “Oh, yes, I knew that, of course. Mama even had clippings hidden away in her closet.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ben said, leaning back. “I don’t think coming west was all about finding out more about your father. You came west because you wanted the gold.”

  He expected her to protest. To his surprise, she didn’t even try.

  “Of course, I want the gold. Do you blame me? I have every right to claim it. It’s mine.”

  Quickly he bit back the words coming into his head. It wouldn’t be wise to disagree with her at this point. Instead, he needed to get as much information from her as possible.

  Ben drew in a long, slow breath, knowing he must proceed with caution. He pursed his lips together to think the matter through. Finally, he looked up with what he hoped appeared to be a noncommittal expression.

  “Do you know where the gold is hidden?”

  The features of her face seemed to change, turning her from a pretty girl to a tired young woman whose life must surely be a struggle. Her countenance reflected disappointment, hardship, and uncertainty.

  “All I have,” she said, “is this.” She reached toward her throat, grasped hold of the tin locket hanging around her neck, and then carefully pried open the heart-shaped charm. From within, she took out a folded piece of foolscap and handed it to Ben.

  He held it in his hand, marveling that something so light and insubstantial could possibly hold the secret to such a sizable treasure. Never judge by appearances. He’d heard that adage more than once. This meager piece of paper illustrated that fact quite well.

  With great care, he smoothed the paper open and laid it out on the worktable.

  “This is gibberish,” he said. Even he heard the tremendous note of regret in his voice. “It’s nothing but numbers.” Puzzled by the numerals, he tried to make sense of it. “There’s no order to it that I can discern.”

  “Nothing adds up. I’ve already tried putting them together every way I can think of.” Della sighed and slumped into the chair. “You’re so bright, Ben. I was hoping you might be able to figure out what it means.”

  He pressed his lips together again—another of those habits he’d developed over the years. Like tugging at his ear whenever he was about to spin a tale, pressing his lips into a firm, hard line was a sure sign that his brain was working hard.

  Now, lips thinned, one hand shooting up to his left ear, Ben nodded. “I don’t think it means anything. Maybe your father was just practicing some arithmetic or something.” He grinned at her. “I hate to say it, but most outlaws aren’t known for their mathematical abilities.”

  “Do you think maybe it’s some sort of record? The amounts of cash he stole?”

  Ben let out a whistle. “That would add up to a pretty penny, for sure.” He shook his head. “Somehow, I doubt it. I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem to make a bit of sense, all those figures jumbled up together.”

  He stared at the paper again. Although he suspected the scrap of paper did indeed hold the information he needed, he truly didn’t have a clue as to how to extract that information.

  “Where did you get this? Obviously your father didn’t give it to you.”

  “After I found out the truth, I went through all of my mother’s possessions very carefully. I found this—” She stopped and clasped the locket with its open heart again, then sighed, “—along with a few other items. Apparently she kept all the trinkets and gifts my father gave her. This was wrapped in a silken cloth, so I knew it was of special significance to her.”

  “Wha
t else was in the bundle?” His curiosity now fully engaged, Ben leaned forward. “Were there any other trinkets? Any other letters? Think, Della. There must have been something more, something that would unravel the mystery and make it all clear.”

  She frowned, then shook her head. “There were letters, yes, but there was nothing in them I took as a clue.”

  “Do you still have those letters? Could I see them?”

  Della’s mouth dropped open. “You’d be willing to do that? Of course, that’s exactly what I need. Somebody with a fresh mind, a clear head. Someone who can see it all from a more objective point of view.”

  As she brightened, Ben nearly chuckled. At that moment, he would not describe himself as having a fresh mind, a clear head, or a truly objective perspective on the matter. But Della didn’t need to know the reasons behind his obvious interest.

  “If you’ll help me,” she said, tilting her head in a flirtatious manner, “I’ll give you a small portion of the gold.”

  “You plan to keep it?”

  “Of course I plan to keep it.” Again her features tightened. “It doesn’t belong to anybody, Ben. You know, finders keepers.” Now her eyes glowed with genuine excitement. She pulled her chair closer and bent forward. “I deserve that money, don’t you see? I’ve lived my entire life believing a lie, not even knowing who I am. That money is recompense for what I’ve suffered.”

  Ben did not see it in quite the same light but nothing would be gained by disputing the issue.

  “I don’t understand.” He stared at the scrap again. “Not about this mumbo-jumbo or whatever it is. About you.” He leveled a gaze at her. “If you didn’t know where the gold was or how to find it, why did you come out here? What were you expecting to do?”

  She folded her hands in her lap and stared downward. “My plans weren’t very well thought out,” she admitted. “I don’t know…I thought once I got here, somehow everything would come together.” Della looked up, hope gleaming again in her eyes. “I thought I’d be able to figure it out, Ben. I planned to search the place, look for clues.” Again she averted her gaze. “I didn’t know that old man was living here. I expected to find the place deserted.”