"Lost a lot of blood."
"Get them to a hospital."
"The dog's a goner. Should I finish him off?"
Tyler's voice rang out. "No! Get him to a vet. That mutt's a good buddy of mine."
Silence. Then, "You gonna foot the bill? His head's bashed in."
Tyler swearing. "Yes, I'll foot the bill, Falson. Take him to a vet, stat."
"Okay, okay, don't get so touchy."
Breanna lifted her head. Tyler's silhouette appeared in the doorway. "Bree?"
She tried to speak, but her throat wouldn't work. There was a terrible emptiness inside her. He came to her, his shoulders blocking out the flickers of light behind him. Breanna finally found her voice, but somehow the words evaporated as they hit the air, coming out in soft sobs, soundless, broken. Tyler clasped her behind the head and pulled her snugly against him. "Shh, Breanna, it's all over."
She closed her eyes. Yes, it was all over. Everything. Dane, Coaly, Jack, Tyler, everything.
"Let's get you out of here. Somebody'll give you a lift to town. You'll want to be at the hospital with Dane, won't you?"
She felt his hands massaging her back. The temptation to lean against him, to need him was great. But her pride was greater. He had said somebody would drive her to town, not that he would. And he hadn't used "we" referring to the hospital. It was over, just as he had said. She straightened, pressing her palms against his chest to lever her body away from his.
"Yes... yes, I'll want to be with Dane."
In a fog, Breanna left the mine with him, gazing sightlessly at the steep stairwell as they ascended into the barn. Agents crowded the corridors. Flashlight beams revealed tall stacks of currency. Exclamations erupted around her. She stepped outdoors and down the ramp, taking deep breaths of fresh air. It helped to clear her head. Several pairs of headlights were bouncing along her drive. Car doors slammed. Feet thudded on the ground.
She turned, arching her neck to see Tyler's shadowy face. "Your leg. It's better? I was afraid you'd broken it or something."
He laughed softly. "Let's just say it mended pretty fast after I knew you were gone."
A smile touched her mouth. "You didn't..."
"I had to do something, Bree. They were right behind us and you were exhausted. We had to split up so I could draw their fire, so I tricked you."
She glanced up the ramp at the men in the corridor who were taking the illegal currency as evidence. "All of this was why you wouldn't let me go to the police?"
"You can see how big an operation this has been. Jack didn't want local authorities messing up the bust."
She nodded.
"They wheeled carts right up the ramp, loaded the cash for transport and circulated it, all right from here. One of the most sophisticated operations we've ever run across. Slick, too. Who'd ever guess this ramshackle old barn was being used for something of this scale? Or suspect that the production was all done underground? It took forever to figure it all out."
"No wonder the barn seemed smaller to me. Fake walls. I can't believe it, Tyler. That twenty I found. All of that was on the other side of the wall?"
"These boys are big-time," he assured her. "Your arrival threw a wrench in their fan blades. That's why they tried so hard to scare you off. Given time, they would have gotten mean about it, which was why we put you under protection. The barn is wired with electronic audio devices that are strong enough to pick up conversations in the main chamber below. That's how I knew when you were in the barn that night and got here so fast. I guess they figured we were on to them tonight when they chased us."
"The night I saw the man and followed him in here? It wasn't you? You were in the blind, listening over the transmitter?"
He sighed, hunching his shoulders against the night air. "After that scenario in Wolf Creek, I had proof you weren't involved. I went down to see Jack to get permission to get you out of here. I'm so sorry for all the lies, but I didn't have any choice. Jack had a fit every time I approached him about leveling with you."
"You mean you did talk to him about telling me?"
Tyler smiled. "When I was sure you weren't involved. I thought I might persuade you to leave until we cleaned things up. But Jack was never sure about you. That's why we staged all the treasure hunting, so my hanging around wouldn't make you suspicious."
Breanna glanced up at him. Why was he looking at her with so much wanting in his eyes? He stepped closer, closer. His hand touched her cheek. His eyes caught hers, hungry, full of need.
Breanna stepped quickly away. "Do you think—Dane will be okay?" She closed her eyes for an instant, bracing herself.
"He's pretty bad. All we can do is hope. I'm sorry."
"He made his choice, I guess, a long time ago." Breanna shoved her hands into her pants pockets. "The wrong one."
"If he pulls through... well, I—uh—can't make any promises, but I think they'll go easy on him when all the facts come out. Especially if he turns federal witness. We still haven't found the plates. Dane probably knows where they are. We were waiting until we were sure those had been brought in to close the trap. Breanna, can't you look at me? Please don't turn away."
She forced herself to face him. "Tyler, I don't want you to feel obligated to—"
"Hey, Ross! We need you down here!" Jacobsen roared from the corridor.
Tyler swore under his breath, then sighed. "I have to get back down there. Breanna, we have to—"
"Ross, dammit, we need help with Jones. What's keeping you?"
Breanna looked at Tyler through a blur of tears. "Go on, Tyler. Do your job."
"I don't want you thinking like you're thinking."
"I'll be fine."
"It'll be a couple of days. We've got the loose ends to tie up. Reports to file." He stepped toward her. "I'd like to come back, Bree, to explain, to talk. I've told you so many half-truths, trying not to lie to you. There's so much left unsaid."
"Sure," she agreed. "We'll talk."
"Ross!" Jacobsen leaned out the barn door. "You comin', or what?"
She dragged a hand out of her pocket to give Tyler a shove. "Would you go?"
He stopped at the ramp to look back at her, his face in shadow. "I'll be back," he promised. Then he disappeared. Breanna waited there for a moment, staring into the darkness, then turned on her heel. An agent stepped out from a nearby vehicle. "Miss Morgan, I'm supposed to give you a ride to town. Do you need anything here before we leave?"
Breanna glanced back at the barn, then shook her head. "No, there's nothing."
She climbed into the back seat of the car and slammed her door, resting her forehead against the glass. Her eyes stayed on the barn as the agent maneuvered the vehicle up the drive. She hoped for one last glimpse of Tyler. Oh, he might come back. She didn't doubt his word. But talking could never put things right between them. A federal agent and a wildlife writer? It seemed such a shame. Apart from their professions, they had been so right for one another. A sad smile touched her mouth. As Gran would have said, better to have loved and lost than never to have— She broke off the thought without finishing it. Gran was wrong. It wasn't better. The losing hurt too much.
Trees whipped by her window. Patches of moonlight fell across her face. Breanna gazed through the trees at the silver ribbon of water that snaked beside the road. She had been right about Tyler from the first. His identity, at least where it involved her, had begun and ended down Graves Creek.
Chapter Seventeen
The sun inched slowly downward, and the soft, subtle whispers of another summer evening settled over Graves Creek. As Breanna walked to the orchard, carrying a shovel, she tipped back her head to gaze at the distant horizon above Mount Reuben. A smile curved her mouth. At last she could look toward The California Mine with a sense of peace. Rob Thatcher's ghost was finally laid to rest, his murderer incarcerated. And nicest of all, she and Dane were becoming close again, as they had been as children, no secrets dividing them.
All ha
d ended well
Sadness caught at her heart. Almost all. A week had passed, and there hadn't been a sign of Tyler. He hadn't kept his promise to return. She had narrowly missed seeing him at the hospital a few times when she went to visit Dane. Other than that, there had been no word, nothing.
Sighing, Breanna slowed her pace, approaching the hole she and Tyler had dug to unearth the old water trough. It was too deep to leave. Someone might fall into it. Glancing down at Coaly, she said, "I don't suppose we could reprogram you to dig in reverse, could we?"
The black dog cocked his bandaged head, eyeing the mound of dirt. A single "Woof" and a wag of his tail later, he was in the hole, digging furiously. Breanna groaned, dropped her shovel and leaped in after him.
"You silly old mutt, you. You'll get dirt in your gauze. Out! Out you go." Breanna half lifted her pet from the hole, giving his rump a fond pat as she put a leg up to climb out after him. "Quiet, the vet said, rest and quiet. You can't act like a puppy."
She grabbed the shovel, filled it with dirt, then sighed. Coaly had again descended into the pit. Down she went once more to drag him out.
"I said no, Coaly. Be a good do—" Breanna froze, staring at her dog's dirt-encrusted muzzle. He held something between his teeth. A very dusty something. A leather pouch? She seized it, prying it from his mouth. "What on earth have y—?"
A tingle of premonition zigzagged up her spine. With tense fingers she loosened the drawstring, opened the bag and stuck her hand inside. More leather? Breanna slowly withdrew a folded piece of parchment-dry doeskin. Carefully she opened it—and gaped. It was a note, the letters inscribed with some sort of leather-burning tool so they wouldn't fade. And it was signed and dated: John Gregor Van Patten, 1903.
Scarcely able to believe her eyes, Breanna leaned against the wall of dirt behind her, smoothing the leather. The note read: Below lies my life's work, unearthed and brought forth from The Crescent Moon. Let no man who does not hail to the name Van Patten lay hands upon it.
The soles of Breanna's feet tingled. She glanced down to see Coaly busily throwing dirt all over her sneakers. His claws scraped metal.
"I don't believe it." Picking up her dog, Breanna lifted him out of the hole, then grabbed her shovel. "It existed. All these years, it really existed. Dane was right."
Bending over the shovel, she began to dig
One hour and several blisters later, Breanna knelt, holding a rock in her hand, next to the large chest she had unearthed a foot or so below the old trough. With a mighty swing, she clunked the stone against the rusty lock, breaking the hasp. Her arms trembled as she pried open the lid. Then she could only stare. The chest was brimming with nuggets and leather pouches, a horde larger than her wildest imaginings. John Van Patten's hidden gold.
She was so excited that she didn't notice the red pickup that had pulled into her driveway behind her Honda, but the slamming of its door woke her from her reverie. She glanced up, did a double take—and again did nothing but stare. Something far more important to her than gold now held her attention. Tyler. She abandoned her newly discovered treasure trove, scrambling gracelessly from the hole.
"Tyler?" Her voice squeaked, and she immediately wanted to kick herself. He had probably only come to say goodbye. "Hi there. Long time, no see."
He looked so good, just as she remembered him, comfortably dressed in jeans, an open-necked red shirt and hiking boots. This last week she had envisioned him in a business suit, with a beeper attached to his belt and a gun strapped beneath his arm. Instead, the closest thing to a weapon he carried was a black puppy, which was biting his wrist and squirming, trying to get free.
"This is Snoopy," he said, leaning down to let the pup go. "He's a peace offering. When the prognosis for Coaly didn't look too bright, I stopped by the pound." Straightening, Tyler shrugged. "He looked so much like him, I couldn't resist. Now that Coaly's better, he's sort of surplus, but he grows on you. Maybe he'll keep the old man company?"
Breanna dropped to one knee to rescue her sneaker, which the puppy had attacked with razor-sharp teeth. Laughing, she stroked his wavy black fur. "Oh, Tyler, he's darling. And he does look like Coaly. What a stroke of luck that you found him."
"Say that in about a week." Tyler folded his arms over his chest. "He doesn't eat paper like Coaly. He goes for socks and boots."
Her eyes flew to his frayed shoelaces and she burst out laughing. Looking up, she saw a twinkle of humor in Tyler's eyes. Giving the pup a final pat, she stood. Silence settled. An uncomfortable silence. She glanced one way, Tyler another. Then they both looked at each other, their eyes locking.
"I—um—" Breanna shifted her weight from one foot to the other, folding her arms over her chest, too. "I was hoping you'd stop by. Was the puppy your only reason for coming?"
"Yes." His mouth twisted in a grin. "Only it was more like an excuse, not a reason. I'm a devious fellow, you know."
"Yes, I know."
"I figure that Coaly is all the dog you can handle. Two of him, well—that'd be a bit much without someone around to help corral them. Any openings?"
Breanna's face felt stiff. "Oh, Tyler... how can you apply for the job? Your commitment to the department—well, that's all-consuming. How could we ever make it work?"
"I'm a little disappointed in you. Seems to me, no matter what my job, if you love me, it wouldn't matter."
"Ah, but you forget, I have a profession, too. And that's a two-way street. You didn't come back, so I figured you couldn't see how your job and mine could mix. Besides, you never asked for a compromise. You just disappea—"
"I'm asking now," he interrupted. "And I didn't disappear. I've been doing my job and Jack's too, getting the loose ends tied up for him. It'll be awhile before he's back on his feet."
Breanna glanced at Hungry Hill, blinking back tears. "And just what is it you're asking?"
"If I had to go to D.C., would you go with me? If I had to live in some city surrounded by miles of concrete, would you live there with me?"
"And give up my work?"
"No. We'd always come back here. You could do your research, then write wherever I'm assigned, couldn't you?"
Breanna looked into his eyes. New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., concrete and skyscrapers and smog. It wasn't what she had planned for herself. But without Tyler, all the forests and mountains in the world wouldn't fulfill her. "Yes, I think I could do that. I've done a lot of thinking about my promise to Gran, and I believe her biggest reason for insisting I come here was to force me to face the past. She was a very wise old lady. I think she knew I was running, and it was her way of making me stop." Breanna smiled. "I think she even suspected what Morrow had done. I found the news story about Joe Darren circled. She had to have done that. And she must have felt his death was significant, or she wouldn't have. As long as I keep the assessments done and the claim stays in the Van Patten family, she'll be content."
"We'd have to make sacrifices. Both of us would."
"Yes, both of us. I'm a simple person, Tyler, with plain tastes. Glitz just isn't in me. Putting on airs isn't in me. I'm afraid I'll be a hindrance rather than a help if you're trying to impress your superiors."
He stepped slowly toward her, then cupped her cheek in his hand. Love shone in his eyes as he smiled. "Breanna, you may not be fancy, but you're more beautiful with dirt to your elbows than other women in chiffon and diamonds.
To me, anyway. I'm not asking you to be anything but what you are. I just need to know you'll stick with me, no matter what, that's all."
"Because of Karen?" She turned her face to press her lips against his palm, her arms still crossed over her chest. "Oh, Tyler. I won't do what Karen did. If you go away, I'll manage. I'll worry, but I have my own thing to do, my own career. And if we have to live in cities sometimes, I'll tough it out until we can come back to the mountains."
He lifted her chin. "You're sure? You and I are on, no matter what? Even though you h
ate guns and know what my life can be like?"
"I'm sure."
He gave a whoop and imprisoned her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet. "That's the right answer, lady, the only right answer. I love you. Did you know that? I love you so much."
Breanna wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into the hollow of his shoulder. "And I love you."
He swung her in a circle, then lowered her feet to the ground. "Lady, I've got news for you. You see that mountain? We don't have to leave it. See that cabin? That's home. No concrete, period. No guns. No job taking me away."
"What do you mean?"
He set her away from him. "Breanna, remember when I told you I tried never to lie you? Didn't I say that I'd changed professions? I'm not with the department anymore. I helped out with the Graves Creek investigation because I know the terrain so well. I've been retired for almost four years." He lifted an eyebrow. “‘Investigation,' look it up. Webster's definition is 'systematic inquiries.' That's what I used to do. Now I'm a photographer."
"Oh."
"Oh? That's all you can say?"
"I could say you're rotten for putting me through all that."
"Not rotten, just wanting to be sure." He ran his fingers into her hair. "I'm a little insecure, I guess. I had to know you'd take me however you could get me."
"As long as it's mutual."
"You're a little dirty. But I'll toss you into the creek later."
Breanna broke off in the middle of a laugh, her eyes widening. "Tyler, the dirt. Oh, my, I got so wrapped up in us, I totally forgot to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"The trough! Coaly dug up a bag in the hole we dug. And then—Tyler, I found the Van Patten gold!"
"The Van Patten gold..." He stared down at her with a blank expression on his face. "What gold?"
"The gold." She seized his hand and tugged him along behind her. "See? Isn't it incredible?"
Tyler gaped at the chest, then began to laugh. "Won't Dane do a jig when he sees this? Gosh, it's a shame he can't be here to see it."