Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (5 page)

I’d love to sleep with you.
Jeremiah coughed. “You can pack fast, right?”

She leaned her back against the railing to face him through the door leading from the balcony into his bedroom. “Yes. I haven’t purchased anything since arriving. I’ve kept the few things your mother loaned me separate in the wardrobe.”

“We can leave on the train tomorrow. There should be tickets available. Do you care if we don’t take much? We shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“With the rain, we should stay here. Some roads can become quite hazardous.”

Jeremiah wiped his hand over his mouth. The Treasure Ranch had never been as much fun as with Alyssa present. She brought a glow to the everyday activities. Normally, he rose, worked, enjoyed a quiet evening, and went to bed. With Alyssa, he couldn’t wait to join her for lunch or to take her for an afternoon ride while he checked the grounds. “Do you want to stay here?”

She stepped to the doorway. Thunder vibrated across the plains, stretching across the flatness. “I’m only here because of you.”

Jeremiah froze. The light from the gas lamps on his dresser danced across her freckled face. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, her lips parted and eyes seemed to glisten. His father’s words exploded back.

“Do you”—his voice cracked—“want to… be a… couple?”

Amethyst would’ve said, “Couple of what?”

Blast her; she needed to get out of his thoughts. If his sister didn’t want to be a part of the family, he wouldn’t consider her.

“Do you mind if I court you?” His throat tightened. The time she’d spent with him had felt like that, when he’d dated a few girls in town. They hadn’t known enough about manners. Proper ladies always wore shoes and they didn’t climb trees, didn’t shoot. His mother had drilled propriety into them even if they lived in the untamed west.

If Alyssa said no, he wouldn’t know how to act around her. Their time together would slip away.

“You will have to ask my father.” Alyssa smiled. “I will be very happy if he gives his permission.”

Lightness lifted off Jeremiah with a whoosh. He sank onto the edge of his bed with a smile so broad it made his lips sting. “I’ll do that on this trip. I’ll check a map, see where to stop first.”

Alyssa glanced down the porch before stepping into his room. He almost laughed. She’d refused to enter before, claiming it wouldn’t be seemingly since his parents were kind enough to shelter her.

“Captain Greenwood might be gruff,” she said, “but what will you learn by going to his post? That his other men are just as unseemly? They don’t take only noblemen to be officers. Most soldiers are those who can’t make a living doing anything else. They’re also the hard working who want to give back to the country that protects them, the poor who yearn to survive.”

Her words painted pictures as if her life were a novel. “I have a feeling. Something isn’t right with him. It’s not just gruffness, I swear.” He crossed to hold her hands. “Trust me. It’s how we ranchers get by. We have to trust our feelings.”

“Are you sure he’s in Bromi Grove? That sounds terrifying.”

“They only call it that because it was the first town cleared of Bromis. It’ll be safe. From what he told Zachariah, he was one of them to kill off those nasty Bromis and he’s had his post there ever since.”

“You think he tells your brother the truth?”

“Why not? Zachariah worships him. It’ll help the captain think he’s safe here. There’s something else going on, though, and I won’t let it hurt my family.” He opened his wardrobe and rifled through the shirts to find his fanciest. It would help his parents think he was just taking Alyssa on a trip. Asking her father for permission made the perfect reason.

“He really wants Clark,” Alyssa whispered.

Ice crept over Jeremiah’s skin. It had to be from the wind and rain blowing through the door. “My family’s affairs aren’t for everyone’s pleasure.”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that. He was too eager. Do you think he deserted?”

It would explain Clark’s aversion to the army. Jeremiah stiffened. A Treasure didn’t desert anything. However, if he had, that was for the family to deal with. They didn’t need Captain Greenwood airing that. His mother would want to hear Clark’s side of the story before thinking ill of him.

Clark had known the suffering of Alyssa’s sister when no one else had other than her diary. Another secret of Clark’s. Treasures didn’t need secrets kept from each other. They were honest and hard-working. Next time Clark came home, Jeremiah wouldn’t stop until they were all open.

From what I gather, this newfound son is the man we seek. His background and looks, as described to me by the father, match. He is traveling, but the father has called him home for Hedlund Day. They will host a celebration. We need adequate backup to apprehend.

Captain Greenwood signed his name to the bottom of the letter, folded the paper, and stuck it into the envelope. He dripped wax onto the back and pressed his signet ring into it to create the image of the interlacing C and G.

Leaving his bedroom, he discovered a Bromi slave scrubbing the kitchen table. The Treasures had retired to their beds, so Captain Greenwood pulled three coppers from his jacket pocket.

“Take this into town for it to be mailed by morning.” Captain Greenwood thrust the letter against the Bromi’s chest. “If an express is offered, see it used. Here are funds to pay for that. See that they aren’t stolen or you will be executed. There are others to take your place.”

The man blinked his black eyes. Stupid Bromi. They couldn’t do a simple job. “Do you understand my language?”

“Yes, sir. The express won’t run none in this weather.”

“See that it does. I have extra coins. I’ll check next time I’m in town to see it was done.”

“It isn’t safe to travel at night in rain. The floods come fast these parts.”

“That’s why I’m sending you.” The man was stupider than a child. He didn’t even dress proper, with the front of his shirt undone to his belly button. He should be wearing the cravat required by all Bromis in civilized company to hide that ridiculous tribal tattoo they all sported on their necks below their right ears.

Captain Greewood ripped the belt off his waist and brought it across the Bromi’s face. “Get going, slave! See that it goes out as soon as possible.”

His skin tingled and breath rasped in his lungs. Clark Treasure had never been so close to his clutches. The fool wouldn’t escape again. He and his
condition
belonged to the government.

hat’s the book.” Eric pointed to the center of the top shelf. “See that black streak at the bottom of the spine? That’s supposed to be a nine. It was my ninth journal.”

Clark grasped the top and angled it toward him, pulling the book from the shelf. The leather had been worn smooth in the corners, unmarked apart from the smear that had once been a number. He glanced to make sure no one except for them dwelled in the back of the bookstore. “Why didn’t Senator Horan want your diaries?”

“He didn’t care about a man’s ramblings. He wanted my texts, my figure journals. Those had all my calculations.” Eric snorted. “Got them too, except for two Donald has and one I left at Garth’s.”

Clark lifted his eyebrows. When his father had said to retrieve his diary, he’d expected confidential and incriminating information. “Does this list everything you had for breakfast?”

“Yes. A good diary keeps a daily list.”

“We traveled twenty miles to know how many eggs you had on a Monday.” Only a professor would think that kind of account worth something. “Sometimes, I was happy if I got a chicken’s egg to boil once a month.”

He winced. It wasn’t Eric’s fault he’d had to live in poverty.

“It’s my diary. It belongs with family,” Eric whispered.

“Brass glass,” Clark muttered. “I’m glad… to have it.” The book in hand, he headed toward the front of the bookshop. Amethyst browsed fashion magazines in a stand beside the counter.

She flashed him a smile as thunder grumbled outside. “Find what you wanted, love?”

He held up the journal. “This should be just the thing.” He pecked her lips before setting the book on the counter.

The salesclerk stopped writing in a ledger to poke the leather cover with his pencil. “Didn’t think that one would ever go. You into ramblings?”

“Don’t tell him why you want it,” Eric said. “Horan might track you down.”

Would there ever be a time when someone didn’t track him? Clark brushed a curl behind Amethyst’s cheek, her smile making his heartbeat race. He’d found the girl who made him want to be something more than a mine worker. They deserved a life together where he could let her do what she wanted with their house, and they could go to her club. He could ride steamcycles through fields and find ways to help the Bromis.

“University project,” Clark said. That should cover it. Last season, he wouldn’t have imagined himself in a bookstore with a girl who didn’t care if he kept her up all night making her squeal. Winters depended on him finding a ranch to work at so he could have shelter. They hired the most in the warm weather. Sometimes, he had to retreat to the Bromis.

“Fifty cents.” The clerk wrote the purchase in his ledger. Clark handed him the coins and he tucked them under the desk. “Stay safe in the rain.”

“Ranchers will be happy.” Clark tipped his hat, tucked the journal under his jacket, and escorted Amethyst through the door. Rain pelted from the sky like beads of ice. He turned his head down to use the brim of his hat for shelter, and tucked his wife under his arm. Mud swelled in the deep ruts of the road. She squealed when her foot splashed into one.

“It never rains like this in New Addison City,” she shouted over a rumble of thunder.

“The torrents always come like this in the summer.” It ruined the paths for steamcycles, trapping him where he’d been until Hedlund began to dry. It wouldn’t last longer than a week, but it made it hard if he didn’t have enough food.

He lifted her over a deeper puddle and directed her toward the stagecoach. The driver huddled on the porch of the saloon. He tipped his mug at them as Clark waved.

Clark opened the stagecoach door and helped Amethyst inside. Larger than a steamoach, it would hold up to twenty-people, and take them back to Snow Ridge where they’d left their luggage at the inn. He took off his hat and shook it at the floor. Droplets sprayed in the light of the gas lamp above.