Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) Page 5

  Saloon owners tortured the poor girls who couldn’t escape.

  Karlie had attempted to and she’d made it, thanks to death.

  Growling, Clark threw the journal into the surging river. A wave washed over it, sucking it down. The words were gone, a part of Eric lost to time, but he knew the truth his father had wanted him to find.

  Judy hadn’t been a Tarnished Silver Eric used and disregarded.

  “Clark?” Amethyst rubbed his arm.

  “We need to do something for Tarnished Silvers.” His body shook and he clenched his hands into fists.

  “We can work on that.”

  “We can…” His stopped talking to keep his voice steady.

  “We’ll figure something out.” She laid her cheek against his soggy chest.

  Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. They needed to get away from the river and avoid being electrocuted. Survival came first. Emotions weren’t important.

  He turned toward the dim lights of town in the distance. “We’ll head back there. They need to know about the stagecoach.” Maybe he could find the brothel owner and give the fellow a good black eye.

  “Yupper.” Ryann wiped the back of his hand across his moustache. “Know that was the folk. Looked just like ‘em. The pair tried to leave me in the river to drown. Well, they saw to me. I’d dragged myself out. They left me, though. Sure I said I was fine, but they left me, they did. “

  The sheriff of Yahnke squinted at the wanted poster the mountain hider had ripped off his door. “You said these folk wanted by Senator Horan had names?”

  Ryann scratched his belly through his coat. They’d all introduced themselves, but he’d remembered the Tarnished Silver with the big bosom. “I think the lady was, uh, Karlie.” Had that been the fancy girl with her nose stuck in the air or the pretty chit in the ball gown? “The man was, uh, Chuck. His name started with a C.” Names weren’t important in the mountains. You knew things by site. Names came and went, but a cave stayed there so long as the earthquakes didn’t come.

  “They were coming here,” the sheriff reiterated.

  Hadn’t that been what he’d said? “Look, fella. I figured I’d do my duty and all letting you know. They was in the stagecoach with me and they were heading back here. Think they said something about the inn. Positive like.”

  “The stagecoach crashed. They found the body of a runaway Tarnished Silver.”

  “I reckon if they survived, you’ll want to pick ‘em up, them being wanted and all.” That Chuck fellow, or whatever his name was, had ruined all the fun. If the Tarnished Silver had to die, then she should’ve at least gotten to know Ryann a bit more private like. Ryann stood and belched as his stomach juices shifted. “Day to ya, sheriff.”

  Amethyst leaned against the counter of the inn while Clark signed out of their room and paid the clerk. Yahnke, on the river, might have been small, but the water access provided a flood of people.

  Flood. Amethyst shuddered. The rain had ceased, allowing the river boats and trains to travel again.

  “Hope your room was everything you wanted for you and your wife,” the clerk said.

  Amethyst twined her arms around Clark’s waist and leaned her cheek against his back. The rain had provided plenty of cozy moments. Clark had brought them meals from the kitchen; they fed each other and read from books in the small library, part of the schoolhouse, down the street.

  If she’d been back in New Addison City, she would’ve attended a ball at least three times a week. There would have been carriage rides in the park, cafes in the mornings, shopping in the afternoons, and clubs at night. She could’ve flirted, spoken to the newspapers. She could’ve worn the latest fashions and watch other young women in the city copy her.

  Yet, staying in a cramped inn with Clark had left her feeling more relaxed than she could remember.

  “I have a telegram for you, I think.” The clerk rifled through a pile of papers. “The first names match, but not the last.”

  Amethyst stiffened. Clark sent her father regular telegrams about their experiences—all made up to sound like peaceful tourists—and she sent letters when she felt like it. Before they’d left the ranch, she’d made her father promise to direct everything to “Clark and Amethyst.”

  “Father,” she’d whined, “you know I love our name, but if people know we’re Treasures, it’ll be just like in the city! We’ll be stalked.”

  He’d agreed to direct correspondences to their first names.

  “What last name?” Clark shifted his stance and buttoned the front of his coat as if he didn’t care, but she felt his muscles tense.

  Despite their quiet time, there’d been a sadness in him that had made her heart ache. She’d tried hard to make him laugh, but instead he’d wanted to hold her, listen to her read, and pet her. He’d never mentioned his father’s journal, and she’d not dared bring it up. As far as she knew, Eric hadn’t appeared while they were in Yahnke.

  “Treasure.” The clerk pushed his spectacles up his nose. “Clark and Amethyst Treasure. Your last name is Grisham, though.”

  Clark chuckled, tugging Amethyst to his side. “I love your father, Am.” To the clerk, he grinned. “Her father has the best sense of humor. He thinks it’s funny she has the same first name as the Amethyst Treasure.” He lifted his voice to imitate her.

  She pinched his arm, forcing a laugh, and held out her hand. “Thank you for the telegraph.”

  The clerk handed the scrap of paper over. “Not a problem.”

  Amethyst unfolded it, her heart starting to pound. The name at the bottom made her scowl. Her mother had sent it. No wonder she’d used the wrong names.

  “Is it urgent?” Clark asked as they exited through the front door.

  “My mother said they’re having a Hedlund Day celebration. She requests our presence.” Amethyst crumpled the telegraph in her fist. “Isn’t it enough she made me come out here? Now she has to tell me where to go?”

  Clark sighed. “I can exchange our steamboat tickets for one heading south instead of north. We can always stay here an extra day if we need to.”

  Amethyst shoved the inn door shut. “Why should we change our plans for my mother?”

  Clark grabbed her hand; not hard enough to hurt, but it made her take a step back.

  “Family is important. They love you,” he snapped. “If my mother wanted to have a celebration, I’d cross the country on bare feet to be there for her.” He released her and stormed toward the docks.

  Amethyst drew a deep breath before tossing the telegraph onto the inn’s porch. He had all that anger and frustration inside of him, but he wasn’t letting it out. She would’ve yelled and stormed, maybe thrown things, kicked and slammed things. He hid it.

  That couldn’t be healthy.

  The deputy laid the wanted poster on the inn’s counter. “You recognize these two?”

  The clerk adjusted his glasses before nodding. “Sure do. They checked out this morning. Reckon it was about three hours ago.”

  “Positive it was them?” The drawn pictures, provided by Senator Horan, included a young man and woman. They both had long hair, his down and hers pulled up. Strong chins, long noses, and round faces.

  “Had to be, husband and wife. They’ve got yellow hair and blue eyes.”

  They had to have done something really bad to get Senator Horan after them. Could they be spies? The deputy grinned. He’d always wanted to catch spies. “What were their names?”

  The clerk checked his ledger. “Clark and Amethyst Grisham. Got a telegraph directed to them, but with Treasure as the last name. Mrs. Grisham said it was her dad playing a prank.”

  The deputy scribbled that information on the back of the poster. “They say where they’re going?”

  “I heard Mr. Grisham say they’d take the first steamboat south. They dangerous criminals?”

  “The worst.” The deputy tipped his top hat. “Thanks for your help. I’ll see about that steamboat.”

  The deput
y held the wanted poster fast as the wind off the river whipped at it. The steamboat captain scratched his bald head.

  “Have you seen these two?”

  “Look, Deputy Terrence, I’ve got nothing against helping you, but I don’t sell my own tickets. I’ve got men to do that, to see customers to their rooms, to load the luggage.” The captain peered over the railing at the water, high above its normal banks from the rainstorms. “You’re keeping us and we’ll be behind schedule. If you want to check the records, and see each passenger, come on aboard. We’re stopping six miles down at Klampert. You can get off there and hire a ride back to Yahnke.”

  The sheriff would throw a tantrum if the deputy didn’t follow through with the lead. “I’ll do that, thanks.”

  “Don’t scare my customers,” the captain added. “You can have my cabin to do questioning. I don’t want nobody arrested right off or my boat will have a bad name.”

  “I’ll question quietly,” Deputy Terrence said. “I’ll start now.” The sheriff knew the names the clerk had provided. He would notify Senator Horan to see if they meant anything. If Terrence did find the inn customers and got them back to Yahnke, Senator Horan might be able to prove their innocence and they’d be free. No harm, a good laugh for all.

  Or, Deputy Terrence would’ve caught some spies.

  methyst folded her arms as she leaned against the brass railing of the steamboat. It chugged along with a steady purr, steam puffing from the metal smoke stacks and the propeller working away at the back. Other passengers milled along the deck, where the crew had set up lounge chairs.

  “This is so relaxing.” She leaned against Clark at her side, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes. “A western paradise. I’ve been on sailboats and rowboats. They have cute ones in the city park. They’re never this tranquil.”

  Smaller boats passed by, and the fishermen waved at the passengers. Farmyards and countryside covered the shore, spotted with random villages and houses.

  Clark massaged the back of her neck. “I’ll take you on a showboat sometime. They’re like floating inns. They have plays, comedy routines, singers, and dancers. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  “Like a club?”

  “Some are. I worked a comedy showboat for a month. I cleaned up the ballroom after the act each night.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Grisham?” a man asked from behind them.

  Amethyst glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?” Being called that still sent a tingle of excitement over her skin. Clark had claimed her, she’d claimed him. Her lover followed the direction of her gaze.

  The man wore denim slacks with the cuffs tucked into black knee boots, covered with silver buckles. A leather vest covered his white shirt; he lifted the front flap to reveal a brass cog pinned to the cotton interior.

  Clark stiffened. He needed to relax around company more; not everyone was evil.

  “That’s a pretty broach,” she said. “You should wear it on the outside where people can enjoy it.”

  The man coughed, his tanned cheeks flushing. “It’s my deputy’s badge, ma’am. I’m required to wear it on the inside.”

  “What can we help you with?” Clark asked.

  “I’m questioning everyone onboard. I’ll need you to come with me.” The deputy pointed toward the rear of the steamboat with his thumb.

  That couldn’t be good. She needed to scald the thought where not everyone was evil.

  “Does this normally happen?” she whispered.

  Clark gripped her shoulder. “Of course, sir.” Ice dripped off his tone. His free hand rested on his hip pistol.

  Definitely not good.

  Her heels clicked against the deck, echoing in her ears. The passengers all seemed to stare at them as the deputy led them to the rear, beside the wheel.

  He opened a door and stepped aside. “Enter.”

  The room contained a settee and a desk, a trunk under the only window.

  “Our cabin looks a lot better.” Amethyst recalled the bed and dresser built into the wall.

  The deputy shut the door and flashed his badge again. “I need to ask you some questions. You must answer, and depending on what you answer, you will be arrested on behalf of the state of Hedlund and Senator Horan.”

  Clark scanned the interior—he didn’t notice any camera devices or witnesses. “We haven’t done anything to warrant arrest. My wife and I,” he nibbled from her ear down her jaw to her chin, “are enjoying our honeymoon by seeing a bit of Hedlund.”

  If the army were after him, he would know why. Senator Horan’s stupid wanted posters. Clark hadn’t thought the illustrations looked enough like them, and they were wealthy—the wealthy should be untouched by the law.

  The deputy unfolded a paper from his vest and spread it open for them: the wanted poster.

  “That’s not us,” Amethyst said too fast and loud. The deputy narrowed his eyes.

  “Sir.” Clark tried for a superior air. He’d been around Garth and Jeremiah. No, he had to mimic Georgette’s cool attitude. “This is uncalled for and inappropriate. You’re upsetting my wife.”

  “You were at the Yahnke Inn.”

  “Yes,” Clark said.

  “I have proof,” the deputy added. “I borrowed the ledger. I matched your signature to one on this steamboat’s roster.”

  The deputy had to be inexperienced. He shouldn’t be telling all his cards.

  Inexperienced and desperate to look good for Senator Horan.

  Clark cleared his throat. “None of this in necessary, sir.” If they were arrested, Senator Horan wouldn’t be able to pin the robberies on them. No one could have tangible proof. He might, however, look closer at Clark and find out he was Eric’s son. The senator’s brother, the rancher, had enlisted his help in kidnapping Amethyst.

  They weren’t to be trusted.

  So many people in the gang and around Hedlund disappeared, never to be seen again. They might be from run-ins with Senator Horan, but Hedlund was untamed.

  “Senator Horan will be able to decide that. I do have cuffs, but I think we can leave together at the next port.”

  “Where is the inn’s ledger?” Clark asked. Had the clerk given them away? He hadn’t seemed to care. The telegram must’ve alerted him.

  “I have it here.” The deputy patted his thick vest. “If the senator wants you to see it, that’s a different story. Don’t think it matters now. I know your handwriting matched and I can compare it.”

  Clark would have to depend on the deputy not sharing it with others. He seemed protective enough of it.

  “This is ridiculous,” Amethyst sputtered. “Do you know who I know? I know the Amethyst Treasure. She will love telling the newspapers about how the deputy of Yahnke can’t find the right couple to arrest. Do we look like criminals?”

  “They’ll know I’m doing my job.” The deputy puffed his chest.

  Clark grasped her hand and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “Be calm, sweetheart. This is a misunderstanding. We will cooperate with the law and be done with this foolishness.”

  The deputy snorted. “Good. We’ll wait here until we land.”

  “What?” Amethyst’s eyes bugged. “Clark, we—”

  He winked at her before kissing her forehead. “Trust me.” He held out his hand to the deputy. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, sir. It’s good to know the law is taking a firm stand in Hedlund.” If the deputy believed that, he had to be new. Most people turned their thumbs at the law.

  The deputy paused before shaking his hand. “Thanks. I got my certificate in the east, but I wanted to see the open plains.”

  He was new, then. “You understand my wife and I are enjoying our vacation. Do we need to stay in this office? Let’s move out by the wheel.” No one chose to stand by the wheel because of the deafening sound.

  “I need to have you in custody.”

  “We won’t move. I want my wife to enjoy the river.” Clark stroked her hair. No wonder people loved to touch pets. Feelin
g her silkiness against his hand made his heart thud.

  The deputy glanced out the window before he nodded. “Long as we stay close by.”

  Perfect. Clark led Amethyst to the turning wheel outside the door. The hum of the motors exploded around them. The crew stayed below, working in the kitchen and tending the steam engines. The passengers enjoyed the dining room and the front deck.

  Did the deputy deserve to die? He wouldn’t listen to them. He would take them to Senator Horan, and once they landed it would be more difficult to dispose of him and make their way back to the ranch.

  Clark pushed Amethyst behind him as he pulled his pistol free and fired. A hole appeared in the deputy’s forehead and he jerked. A droplet of blood welled in the dark space.

  The hum of the wheel drowned out the gunshot and Amethyst’s scream.

  Clark rushed the deputy and knocked him over the railing into the churning water. Blood soaked along the waves as the wheel caught the body, mangling it.

  He slammed his pistol back into the holster. “Help! Man overboard!”

  Amethyst gripped the railing, her face ashen.

  “Someone help us.” Clark ran down the deck toward the passengers. “Help.”

  A door opened and a crewman in a blue uniform darted out. “What is it?”

  “I was walking my wife down the deck and a man fell off the railing.” Clark made himself pant. “He might’ve jumped. He fell into the wheel.”

  “Bloody gears!” The crewman bolted down the deck.

  Amethyst rubbed her mouth. “He fell overboard! We tried to scream at him.”

  Clark pulled her against his chest and rubbed her back. It had to be done—nothing could be allowed to hurt them.

  eremiah rapped his knuckles against the door of the hired steambuggy. “Halt.”

  The driver nodded, steering the vehicle to the side of the road. “As you wish, sir.” Other steam contraptions rattled by, intermingled with horses, the riders hunched over the reins.