Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) (9 page)

Even though she'd spent her life denying him as her father, Sharkey Carsen was now influencing— actually dictating—her actions. His life affected hers far more than she cared to admit, more than she wanted. Was it selfishness driving her to continue on this strange trek, her greed for gold? Or, as she'd told herself a hundred times in the past few weeks, simply what he owed her?

If there really was gold up there, if they actually found it, if it were enough to split five ways, she could salvage Tall and Terrific. That was behind it all. She really needed the money to salvage the floundering business she and her mother had started.

After her mother's death, hospital bills compounded her already debt-ridden life. Then her personal grief directly affected her business, and the debts kept piling higher. Tory could only hope that Megan would hold on and keep the shop open until she returned. And she could only pray to return with a bounty of gold that would save everything. It was a dream, perhaps too great.

Damn! Why couldn't Sharkey have died and left her a normal inheritance? A piece of property to sell or a chunk of money lying dormant in a savings account somewhere?

There was only one flaw in her plan to leave as soon as she got her inheritance. Dodge Callahan. It wasn't love, she told herself. It was merely lust. In a weak moment, she had succumbed to her natural instincts with the man, and simply given in to her own erotic desires.

He was a man like none she'd ever met, a man who obviously could lead her to hell and back and apparently, she'd follow willingly. There's what she was doing up here. Trusting a man she barely knew and following an untrustworthy father.

Dodge was different from any man she'd ever known. A rakishly handsome, extremely virile man in whose arms she felt safe and secure. And he had loved her like none other ever had, including the man she'd married.

Love? There was that word again. Was it a word she could use for any part of their relationship? They barely knew each other, yet their loving— their sexual encounters—had been intense and wild and . . . yes, wonderful.

Tory was drawn back to Yazzie's cabin in the woods by the sound of a Jeep horn and a man's shout. She looked around to see Rex and Ramona climbing from an ancient, well-worn vehicle, Ramona's inheritance from Sharkey.

Determined to make the most of the situation, Tory waved and started walking toward them. Well, the sun seekers had assembled. Tomorrow would find them heading for that elusive gold stuff. And maybe—just maybe—finding it!

That night, Yazzie prepared a fabulous venison stew for supper, accompanied by robust sourdough biscuits and stout black coffee. Tory insisted on fixing a simple salad of lettuce, tomatoes, and celery. It would be their last fresh vegetables for a while. Soon they would be relegated to eating canned items cooked in a cast-iron pot over an open fire, like the miners of a bygone era.

After eating, they sipped more coffee and ate a chocolate cake Dodge had purchased from a bakery in Sierra Vista.

"Good idea, Dodge," Rex said between bites. "This is a great cake."

"And not a calorie in the whole thing," Tory muttered with an accusing stare at Dodge. Then she took another big bite of the chocolate cake with its double-fudge icing.

Dodge grinned and drawled, "I figured that even though Yazzie is a pretty good camp cook, we wouldn't be getting any special treats like chocolate cake on this trip."

"You figured right," Yazzie commented shortly. The man obviously had no sense of humor. "On the trail, I'll stick to beans, bacon, and biscuits. Gets mighty tiresome, but it'll keep us going."

"How long do you think it'll take us to get to this place, Yazzie?" Rex asked.

"What place is that?"

"Our destination, the lost city of gold."

"There's no gold," Yazzie muttered. "Old Sharkey knew it. I think he's playing a trick on all of you."

"That's not so, Yazzie!" Ramona exclaimed. "You and I both saw—"

"Don't talk about no dead man, Ramona," Yazzie admonished her. "It'll bring us bad luck."

She stood up and shook her finger at the mountain man. "You know as well as I do there's gold up there. And Sharkey must have found it."

"Where?" Yazzie countered. "Courtland? Galeyville? Paradise? They're empty ghost towns. Nothing there but weeds and broken walls. No gold anymore. It's all gone."

"Pyramid's the name of the ghost town Sharkey mentioned in the will," Rex said. "Where's Pyramid? How far from here?"

Yazzie laughed, a rude, cackling sound. "Pyramid? There's nothing at all left of that one. Nobody ever found it again. Maybe it never was there."

"Yazzie," Dodge said, "you sound like you don't want to make this trip. What's wrong with checking out this lost city? You aren't afraid, are you?"

"Afraid? Hell, no! I'll go anywhere as long as you pay me for the use of my mules. It's just a waste of time because there's no gold out there." Yazzie stood up and shuffled outside.

The other four gazed bleakly at each other for a moment.

"He's lying," Ramona said finally. "I believe Sharkey, even if the rest of you don't."

Dodge agreed. "We just have to have faith in our old friend."

Ramona nodded, then looked at Tory. "I'm going to put my sleeping bag on the front porch. You want to sleep out there, too?"

Tory nodded and followed Ramona.

Dodge clapped Rex on the shoulder. "And we'll fix our sleeping bags out under the trees, right, Rex?"

"Unless you know of a nearby motel," Rex grumbled.

"Nope," Dodge said, and winked at Tory.

In spite of her sophistication, she blushed at his overture. What was wrong with her, anyway? After all, they had been intimate. She should be beyond that kind of reaction. She gave him a shy smile, suddenly feeling like a teenager at camp with a crush on the guy in the next tent. Only here, there were no tents.

Rex and Ramona headed for the Jeep to get their sleeping bags while Dodge and Tory went to the Blazer for theirs. Dodge detained Tory with a firmly placed hand on her arm. Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips for a sensuous series of tiny kisses across her knuckles. "Would you like to take a walk in the moonlight?"

"Gee, Marshal," she drawled in a responding, affected tone, "I'd love to. You're such a gentleman to suggest it."

"I'll meet you at the tree stump after we've made our beds. And no guarantees about the gentleman part."

"Why, Marshal ..." She fluttered her eyelids and fanned herself with her hand. "You aren't suggesting—"

He pulled her closer and whispered, "Trouble is, I've already done more than sniff your brandy, Tory. And I feel the need for a little of your fire. I've just got to figure out the logistics of our little problem."

"I think you might as well forget our liaison, Marshal."

"No way, fancy pants. Meet me and we'll discuss the matter in greater depth."

"Dodge, don't you think—"

He pressed his finger to her lips. "I can only think of you sleeping in that tight sleeping bag, all by yourself. And that I'd like to be in there with you, with those long legs of yours wrapped around mine."

"Well, obviously we can't," she murmured breathlessly. The picture he described was enough to set her own imagination into erotic overdrive.

He refused to take her word for it. "By the tree stump. Five minutes. We'll discuss it."

Tory was absolutely shaky with anticipation as she threw her sleeping bag down on the porch beside Ramona's, unfastened the binders, and flopped it open. She fluffed the small pillow and announced in a low voice, "I think I'll take a little walk, Ramona."

"The outhouse is around back. Want me to go out there with you?" Ramona asked politely.

"No, I, uh, Dodge and I are—"

"Oh, of course," Ramona interrupted. "How stupid of me."

Tory turned to go, and Ramona laid a hand on her arm. "Tory, be careful. Don't go far."

"I told you I'd be with Dodge," Tory snapped. "Don't you think we'll be safe?"

Ramona dropped her hand. "With Dodge, sure. But—"

"But what?"

"Oh, nothing. I guess I'm just jumpy after what happened to Sharkey."

"Well, I'm not worried when I'm with Dodge," Tory said to convince herself as much as Ramona. She slipped down the porch steps and met Dodge with an urgency she couldn't hide, even in the darkness.

He pulled her into his arms and greeted her with a silent, hard-pressed kiss, melding their bodies into one shadowed form.

When he finally lifted his head, she murmured, "I think you're right, Dodge. It's going to be a long night without you."

"We could make other sleeping arrangements."

She considered his proposal, then thought of the embarrassing consequences. "No, I don't think we should. Not now, anyway." She grasped his large hand in both of hers and started walking. "How about a walk beneath that beautiful Arizona moon you promised me?"

He scrutinized the somewhat cloudy sky. "Moon's hiding. It'll be out a little later," he promised, directing her to the canopy of a small group of pines. "We'll just have to wait for it to appear. It's waiting for you that's driving me crazy." He stopped on a carpet of pine needles and turned her into his arms. Framing her face with his large hands, he repeatedly murmured her name, kissing her cheeks and eyes and chin.

When his mouth finally merged with hers, she moaned with longing. She opened her lips to match his. He kissed her almost savagely, his mouth mov
ing on hers until she slumped against his chest, weak with renewed desire that flooded her body. His arms kept her pressed tightly against him as his tongue caressed the inside edge of her lips, then probed further.

Tory clung to the strength, the sweet-plunging tongue of this man who excited her so wildly and loved her so thoroughly. She felt his arousal and knew they shared the same desire. Again. Now!

"Here, Tory," he murmured, lowering them to their knees on the pine needle cushion. His hands molded around her breasts, so confined inside her blouse. With a wildness unlike anything she'd ever felt, Tory wanted to rip her clothes away and feel his hands on her bare flesh. God, how she burned for him.

He left her aching breasts and reached for the snap on her jeans. Just as his hand slid the zipper down and found her flesh, she heard a noise. He heard it, too, for he froze.

She quelled a small gasp, and instinctively he covered her mouth with his free hand and dragged her roughly with him behind the nearest tree.

Tory struggled to get free, but he held her firmly against him. Her labored breathing blended with his; their hearts pounded together. She strained against him, her eyes wide and puzzled.

"Shhhh," he hissed in her ear.

She grew limp, and he slowly released his furious grip. Her lips ached from his over powering strength, and she wanted to scream at the intruder. But she dared not. They watched a figure moving in the pale moonlight.

The dark figure hobbled toward the corral, then slipped inside and maneuver between the mules. The animals showed no signs of alarm, as they would of a stranger. It could only be one.

"Yazzie," Dodge murmured in a barely audible whisper.

Tory matched his sound. "What's he doing?"

"Just checking."

They watched in silence as the figure moved purposefully to one particular mule, stuffed something into one saddlebag, and left.

"Dodge, he didn't check all the mules. Only one."

"I don't know, Tory. Maybe he was packing more of those wolf-breath cigars he smokes."

"Why would he hide them?" She shook her head. "Yazzie acts strange to me. Let's go look and see what he put in the saddlebag."

"Why?"

"Don't you want to know what Yazzie was doing out there this time of night?"

"They're his mules, Tory, and he can do whatever he wants to with them. What's wrong with you?"

She sighed and leaned her back against a tree trunk, trying to regain her equilibrium after the scare. "Tonight at supper, Yazzie seemed to say everything he could to discourage us going on this search for gold."

"Apparently, he feels it's futile. That doesn't mean anything, though. Lots of people would probably agree with him."

"But, Dodge, you said Yazzie sometimes brings in gold dust for trade. So he must know of gold somewhere up here. Maybe he doesn't want it found."

"That's crazy." The clouds slid aside to reveal a full moon, and Tory could see Dodge's face clearly angry in the pale glow. "What are you getting at, Tory?"

"I don't know . . ."

"Look, Yazzie is just a loner. A solitary mountain man, that's all. Don't try to figure him out, because you never will."

Tory bent her knees up and propped her arms on them. "Dodge, you remember what we talked about on the way up here, about maybe Sharkey was murdered?"

"I said it was possible, not probable. Look, Tory, why don't you just forget that conversation? It wasn't based on fact, just our rambling speculation."

"I can't forget anything that serious, Dodge. As we were sitting around tonight, eating cake and discussing Sharkey's gold, it occurred to me that everyone here has a possible motive for wanting my father dead. And for wanting all his gold."