Treasure So Rare (Women of Strength Time Travel Trilogy) (32 page)

Iliana looked at Erik and then down at William as he sat on
the floor, staring at her with wide green eyes. "Ma, Ma, Ma," he said
into the silence. She began to laugh, joy mixed with a tinge of old sadness.
"Oh, William, finally you say 'Ma, Ma." All you have said is 'Da,
Da.'"

Erik picked up the boy and held him in one arm. "And
why not?" he said proudly.

"And on that note," said Darien, "this is my
daughter Isabeau, and her husband Pierce."

Iliana smiled at the beautiful young woman, also pregnant,
and her handsome husband. "I met you once, Isabeau, many years ago,"
Iliana said. "I am pleased to meet you again, and also your husband
Pierce." Iliana hesitated, then looked at Erik. "Erik can share with
you how we came to be here."

For some reason they all began to laugh, as if she'd just
told a joke.

"Lily, we will all share with you our own time travel
stories," said Elise. Wide-eyed, Iliana stared as each of them nodded.

"Though from the little I've heard, it sounds like
yours and Erik's story may be the most interesting of all," said Darien.

Epilogue

Darien stared at his brother Rufus -- Erik, he reminded
himself. "I hope I shall get used to your name in time," he said
ruefully.

Erik stared out over the horses in the fields. His and Iliana's
horses had settled right in, although the destrier had his own section of
fields apart from the mares. "You have made a wonderful life for you and
Elise -- and the twins," he added.

"As you shall," Darien murmured. "Have you
talked to Jock?"

"Yes, and the men have voted unanimously to stay in
this time. Iliana has helped them file the proper paperwork to conduct
excursions aboard t
he
Merry Maiden
. Sailing the Hudson is becoming quite a popular tourist
attraction."

"Wait until the next tall ship race. I imagine the men
will clean up the prize money." They both laughed.

Erik grew thoughtful. "Iliana and I have been talking
of many things of late. We appreciate the hospitality you and Elise have shown,
but it is time we thought of building our own home."

"I will help you however I can, but you do realize
building costs are not the same as back in our time. And you have only been
here two months," Darien added. "I suppose all your wealth is back in
time?"

Erik grinned at him.

Darien raised a brow. "Erik?"

"When you left, I sold all our holdings, everything,
including the acreage and house. I put everything of value into gold bars.
Then, all the treasures I pulled from the sea, I turned all that into gold bars
also." He laughed. "What is the value of gold these days?"

Darien stared at his brother as if he'd gone mad.
"Right now it is the highest it's been in thirty-five years. And how do
you propose to gain access to your gold bars?" he demanded.

"I will dig them up."

"You realize of course depending upon where they are
buried, it might be unobtainable. There is an abundance of state land
hereabouts and you cannot dig on state land."

"So I have heard. But do you recall the old
crypt?"

"It was caved in when we lived there -- on the steep hillside
behind the property?"

Erik nodded and Darien began to laugh.

"I suppose it must be owned by others by now,"
Erik said, "but we can sneak in at night and smuggle it out. It will be
just like old times."

"No doubt the owner will shoot you."

Erik sat back and laced his fingers behind his head.
"It will not be the first time I have been shot at, as well you
know."

"Ah yes," Darien said with fond remembrance,
"there were many dangerous adventures when we rode as the Hellhound."

Erik grinned.

"However, times have changed and there will be no
shooting." Darien put his feet up on a wooden stool and leaned back.
"Elise made me promise to never again do anything that I'd get shot
at."

"Then I shall take care of it on my own," Erik
said. "Luckily, Iliana doesn't know about the Hellhound."

Darien clapped his brother on the shoulder. "No
worries, brother. Elise and I bought the old homestead property at tax auction
just recently."

Erik knocked his brother over, sending him sprawling to the
ground. "That's for stringing me along. Let's go dig it up," he said.

Darien started laughing. "Why the rush? You've waited
two months to even think about it."

Erik rose to his feet with a grin. "I've been occupied.
But now seems like a good time."

"Wait -- I'll come with you." Darien grabbed his
brother's arm.

"Erik." Iliana stood in the doorway of the house,
then stepped outside onto the deck. William rushed out ahead of her and fell to
his knees on the deck. He looked up at them and laughed, then using his
mother's leg, pulled himself to his feet.

Iliana, dressed in modern dress, her dark hair about her
shoulders, took his breath away. "Are you off somewhere?" she asked.

Erik came to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Dare and I are off to dig up buried treasure."

Her eyes began to gleam with excitement. "Buried
treasure sounds like fun. I'm coming along."

Elise came out of the house and stood on the deck. She
looked at the two brothers suspiciously. Due any day to have the twins, she
nevertheless still looked fresh and bright.

"Darien, what buried treasure?" Elise asked.
"This isn't anything to do with the Hellhound, is it?"

"No. It seems my brother buried his treasure --"

"Ours," said Erik.

"-- on the old property. We're going to dig it up
presently."

"Who is the Hellhound?" Iliana asked, bemused.

Elise turned to her, a mischievous smile about her mouth.
"Come and sit, Lily, and I'll tell you all about the Hellhound."

The End

Thank you for purchasing
Treasure
So Rare
. Stop by my page for other titles.
http://www.GraceBrannigan.com

Preview Other Titles

Deception

Romantic Short by Grace Brannigan

Katharine Garner pulled the door
open slowly and looked up and down the hallway, her mind shaken by doubt and
fear.

She blinked rapidly, trying to
clear the moisture from her eyes. The hall appeared empty. Closing the door
carefully behind her, she gripped the doorknob as the floor moved. No, not the
floor. Dizzy.

Katharine heard footsteps. She
turned clumsily, the length of her silk and lace dress tangling around her
legs.

“Katharine!” Someone cried out.

Katharine flattened herself
against the wall, lifting a hand to guard her face.

“Dear God, Katharine.”

Katharine dropped her hand. She
squinted her eyes. “Sacha?” She croaked.

“He hit you...” Her new friend
Sacha put an arm around her and Katharine suddenly felt safe. “I’ll get your
things,” Sacha said urgently.

“No, wait,” Katharine managed. She
lifted her hands and pulled hard on the diamond solitaire encircling her
finger. The ring came free. Katharine gripped the small circlet in her palm
until the stone cut into her flesh.

She opened her hand and let the
ring slide off her palm. The ring made a small, hollow sound as it hit the old
wood floor, then it fell between the slats and disappeared. “I’ve made a
terrible mistake, Sacha,” Katharine said thickly. “Please get me out of here.”

Without any questions, Sacha
turned her around.

Katharine leaned on Sacha, her
body shaking. She felt frail. She had never felt this way in her life. She was
only twenty-one.

#

Trey Montgomery paused on the
gallery's top step, eyes narrowed upon the elegant gold lettering on the glass
doors. He sighed, noting the sizeable crowd inside. Apparently Sacha Fortune,
nee Katharine Garner, was in the midst of a highly successful art showing.

He jerked at the worn collar of
his denim jacket and ducked under the gallery's awning, barely registering the
late spring rain as it trickled down his neck. Opening the ornate door, he
walked into a marble foyer with gleaming crystal and brass lights.

Trey removed his Stetson, noting
the rain droplets which fell onto the polished floor.

He made note of the artwork
displayed on the walls, made even more dramatic by the cleverly placed
lighting. He found her work breathtaking, the abstract backgrounds vividly
blending colors in sharp contrast to the black trees or nature scenes in the
foreground. There were about twenty murals in all, and in fascination he took
time to study each one in detail. The scenes depicted were of isolation and yet
raw beauty.

He searched the crowd for her. At
the end of a sea of formal black and evening attire, he found her. She stood
speaking with several women in a circle, arms crossed, and it struck him as an
aloof pose. In the last eight years she’d never bothered to step a dainty foot
on Garner property but it was time for Katharine to stop running. Time for her
to come home. Her grandfather was ill and needed her.

She turned her head, slowly, her
gleaming dark hair swinging past her cheek. Her fine arched brows were drawn
together as her gaze met his, and she was as beautiful as the pictures he’d
seen of her. Something hot and volatile flared in that glance, but almost
immediately it was shuttered and suppressed. Wariness settled on her pale
features before she turned back to her companions.

Trey thought of the many times
Samuel had needed his granddaughter in the last months, the old man's near
brushes with death. But Katharine had virtually disappeared one night eight
years before. But gone was the blonde-haired cowgirl, and in her place was a
sleek, dark haired woman who'd clearly come into her own power.

From what Trey had gleaned, that
young Katharine had had everything handed to her. Samuel had doted on her, but
then, with her marriage barely a month old, she’d run from the mess she’d made
of her life. From that point on Samuel had been on a slow downward spiral from
which he would probably never recover.

With clinical detachment Trey
studied the wide eyes, heart-shaped face, the expensive fitted suit, long trim
legs and spiked heels. Gone were the wavy blonde curls he’d seen in the dated
picture Samuel had on his desk. Her dark hair with its rich auburn highlights
had been tamed to form a cap around her head, curling slightly on her
shoulders. He wondered if life had chased away the devil in eyes green and
sometimes hazel. From this angle her face looked a lot slimmer than the picture
he'd seen, as if she'd known some lean years.

Katharine had turned her back on
everything that was hers. In sharp contrast, Trey couldn't imagine abandoning
anything that was his, and The Rambler Farm was his. He had worked his entire
adult life towards making something of himself. He wouldn’t allow Katharine
Garner to take what he’d earned and that's part of what this was about.

Trey squared his shoulders. It was
time to introduce himself to Katharine, Samuel Garner's heir.

Once Upon a Remembrance Time travel

Hawks Den, Virginia

In the half light before dawn,
Pierce Morgan drove toward Hawk’s Den. He had driven all night to get here,
hardly understanding the urgency that gripped him. Pierce stopped his truck and
stared at the once majestic plantation house Hawk’s Den. Forlornly, the old
home he grew up in sat before him, paint faded and worn. The house was
shuttered and still as light began to break, the wrap-around veranda partially
concealed by a tangle of brilliant-hued azaleas.

He strode across the stone-lined
path to the house, taking the shallow porch steps three at a time. The ornate
entry door lay at a drunken angle and he shoved it aside as if it weighed
little. Stepping inside, he paused as the stench of stale air bore down upon
him.

Arrows of light peered through the
closed shutters, but Pierce knew where to find the staircase to the second
floor. Quickly, he climbed the stairs, his flashlight beam bouncing across the
walls.

On the second floor numerous doors
lined a wide, oak-beamed hallway. He walked to the last doorway and entered the
chamber. Water-stained wainscoting and pieces of tin ceiling littered the
floor. Furniture had been stacked willy-nilly in a corner, once prized oak and
cherry pieces, now likewise stained by weather and neglect.

Shoved against the far wall was an
enormous oak bed. Pierce walked through strewn feather ticking, then knelt
beside a small bedside table. His fingertips tingled as he turned the table
upside down. Immediately, he saw the book lodged in the drawer track. Feeling
almost lightheaded, he pried it loose and slowly sank down against the wall.

The book’s leather cover was
frayed and worn, held together by a gold mesh strap and clasp. Pierce undid the
clasp and very carefully opened the journal.

He flipped the pages to the first
handwritten entry, the tightness in his chest almost unbearable.  1878, April
2, I fear I shall never live to see land again . . ..

Sweat beaded on his forehead. The
journal confirmed that three months lost had not been a wild dream. He had
loved a woman back in time, 1894, and somehow he had to find her again.

Isabeau.

Hawks Den Plantation, Five Years
Later

Isabeau Remington stared in awe at
the tall oak trees lining either side of the narrow dirt road to Hawk’s Den, as
she drove under their extended branches. The dark skies had followed her all
the way from New York, the heavens erupting from time to time with thunder and
incredible flashes of lightning.

She shifted restlessly in her
small compact car, her legs feeling cramped after the long drive. The
serpentine drive took one last curve and finally a house came into view just as
raindrops began to fall. Her friend and boss Leif Ericsson’s van pulled up
beside her as she parked. Fascinated, she stared at the beautiful two-story
house. She had read about some of the restored plantations near the James
River, but she had never imagined the reality would be so breathtaking. The
house had been painted a soft gray and the wrap-around verandah made her think
of lazy summer nights spent drinking tea and eating pecan pie, the scent of
azaleas a delicious extra to any evening. Even from inside her car, Isabeau
swore she could smell their scent.