Freedom's Treasure (8 page)

She dug through the bags while Hunter wiped water from his face and hair.

“It’s really coming down out there. I brought some basic stuff, thought we might end up eating in rather than going out in this weather. I guess you had the same idea,” he laid the towel across the back of a chair. “It smells great.”

“The rain woke me early. I was feeling a little edgy so I went grocery shopping. It’s amazing what the store looks like at 7. Before I knew it I had everything for a roast with baby potatoes and a few other things. I forgot one thing, however, and I’m really hoping you’re psychic. Oh, and you are! Perfect!” She reached deep into the bag and came up with a bottle of red wine.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Hunter grinned. “There should be a corkscrew in there somewhere in case you don’t have one.” He glanced over to the project on the floor. It looked like a complete mess but, from experience, Hunter knew that was often the case before everything came together and a project was completed. He thought she was halfway done. Figuring she had whatever that was under control - Hunter hoped - he moved on to his next order of business.

“I wanted to check on your generator, too, in case the power does go out. Or did you do that earlier?”

“Generator?” Anna asked blankly. “Oh, right. You said something about that in your message. No, I’m not sure where it is much less how I would check one.”

He nearly rolled his eyes. She had a lot to learn about living outside of town. “It’s underneath the deck, up front. I’ll check on it while you take care of that,” he nodded toward the boards on the floor. At least she was organized. He saw an instruction manual laid out next to a bowl with various screws and hinges. Was that French?

While Hunter fiddled under the deck Anna poured two glasses of the surprisingly light red he had brought. She set his glass on the table and dove back into her project. At this point she’d be happy if she finished it by the time the roast was done. By her calculations, she had two hours before she’d have to start the biscuits and potatoes. Feeling more than a little ridiculous she went back to it.

When Hunter came back in he realized she was concentrating so hard she couldn’t hear him. He moved to the bags and started unloading the bread, milk and other basic staples. He made himself at home in the kitchen, opening cupboards to put things away and snooping in general. You could learn a lot about a person by how they organized their life. Hunter approved.

She muttered while she worked, he noted, and stifled a laugh when he heard a few creative curses. He roamed through the cabin and looked at the changes she’d made.

There were a lot of touches he considered girlie but he knew those were what made a home. Elisa had taught him well. Hunter was slightly embarrassed to admit to having potpourri spread through his own house. It was a very masculine scent but still.

She’d hung several prints on the walls and he noted the god awful couch had been covered with a patterned throw that was only a slight improvement as far as he could tell. Over-stuffed pillows were in each corner and a body size pillow lay across the back. He picked up a few books, set them down, winced when the radio switched to Garth Brooks. She’d made a nice home for herself, temporary as it may be. Hunter admired anyone with that particular skill.

“If you’re done hovering,” she smacked him in the ankle with a piece of cardboard, “you can get your damn drill and help me. What happened to that chivalry gene I thought you had in abundance?”

Hunter laughed, squatted next to her. “I know better than to step in until I’m asked. I’d hate for you to think that I think that you aren’t fully capable of putting a – what is this?”

“Television stand,” she all but growled it.

“Right, you are fully capable of putting that together without any male assistance. I know it, you know it, right?”

She leveled her gaze at him. “Are you done?”

“Oh, honey, I’m just getting started,” his voice was smooth, silky and full of something Anna couldn’t put her finger on. It made her very aware of her outfit, or lack of one, and heat rose from her stomach to her face, leaving her flushed. “Screw?”

“Excuse me?” Anna sucked in a quick breath and realized there was no air in the room.

Hunter leaned forward and his hand moved toward her. Anna held what air she’d managed to suck into her lungs and prepared for a mind blowing kiss.

He slowly reached behind her and pulled something from her hair. He held it before her eyes. “These screws? It looks like you might need these.” The precariously balanced bun came undone and her hair fell in a wild tangle around her shoulders.

“For Pete’s sake!” She hadn’t noticed when she’d jammed them in her hair to hold it back from her face. “No wonder the damn thing looks like it would fall over if I looked at it wrong.” She rocked back to her heels. “I trust I can leave this in your capable hands? Otherwise I’ll be grabbing my lighter fluid and practicing my fire starting.”

Hunter smirked. “I’ve got this. Do what you need to do.” He started putting the stand together like he’d done it a hundred different times.

Anna smiled in satisfaction. “Perfect. I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

“Uh-huh,” he was distracted.

Before it was all said and done, Hunter had finished the television stand,
muscled the new television into the cabin and set everything up. Unhappy with the glare on the TV and uneven surround sound he kept moving the television and furniture until he felt she had the optimum set up.

Hunter checked the thermostat as it seemed to be stuck around ninety degrees and his shirt was plastered to his back. Both doors were propped open and a cool breeze came through with the rush of the falling rain. The furnace kicked on and off with apparent glee while he tinkered with it.

Anna moved efficiently through the kitchen. Before she took the serving dishes to the table she went through the cabin and turned off most of the lamps. She lit several candles, lowered the music and considered the mood set.

Over dinner they debated the merits of a passing quarterback versus a scrambling and able to run quarterback in the NFL and ultimately agreed to disagree. They’d read many of the same books and found they wanted to travel to many of the same sun soaked beaches.

Hunter pushed back from his chair and patted his stomach. “I couldn’t eat another bite. That was excellent. If I smoked I’d be reaching for a cigarette right about now,” he said.

“I think that’s one of the things I miss about smoking. I quit five years ago,” she explained.

“I bet I can guess another one,” he said with a wink.

“There is that,” Anna nodded and took a slow sip from her wine. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more content. Music played in the background, candles provided soft light and a charming man sat across from her. What more could she ask? Then she remembered.

“I was wondering, Hunter,” she began, “how that gold could still be hidden after all this time. The story is common enough for children to write reports about it. Why hasn’t someone from the area found it?”

“I’ve wondered the same thing,” Hunter replied. “Everyone I know has looked for it at one time or another. When we were kids we used to camp out in the woods with bags of junk food and metal detectors. We never found a sign of it.”

“How did you know where to look?”

“We didn’t,” Hunter chuckled. “That may have been part of the problem. We had some good times, though, by ourselves out in the woods and telling ghost stories late into the night.”

“With your familiarity with the legend it would seem like you’d have the best shot. And by you, I mean the secondary you, the general you, the Almighty You.”

“I know what you meant, you mean the locals.” She nodded. “We know the story, grew up on it as a tale of courage, conviction and a strong belief in personal freedom. The last journals of Samuel and Robert have been lost in time, assuming they were ever here. One theory has Samuel taking his last journal with him on the fateful trip.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Is it possible Robert killed Samuel and made up a bogus story about him going back to the South?” she twirled her glass and watched the reflections.

“That’s one theory I’ve heard.”

“Hm.”

“My personal favorite is there never was any gold,” he leaned forward conspiratorially.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, that one consists of Robert wanting Samuel’s land so he came up with the story about Samuel going back South. People are greedy.”

Anna thought about that theory. “Where does the gold fit?”

“Back in the day a man of Color being able to buy property is going to set off all sorts of alarms and questions. You know how these things work, someone comes up with a ‘What if’ and after being passed around long enough the ‘what if’ portion falls off and rumor becomes fact,” Hunter’d had most of his life to contemplate the secret of Samuel’s gold. Anna recognized a consistently shared thought when she heard one.

“But the journal at the library, you said it had quite a bit of detail,” Anna questioned.

“There are some details, yes. I’ll admit to combining what I read in the journal with the folktales I’d heard as a kid. You’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Hunter stated.

“More than I had realized, apparently,” Anna replied. “Out of curiosity, do you have any ideas where I could find a metal detector?”

Hunter grinned. “I’m sure we could find something. I do believe I have another weekend treasure hunter on my hands.”

“You could say that.” Anna continued, “Even if it’s not true, I love this story. I’m considering it research. I’ll write about the trials and tribulations of searching for something that’s been missing for well over a century. Toss in a little romance, some not too serious danger, mix well and watch the bestseller form.”

Hunter grinned broadly. “I always wondered about the writing process.”

“Fiction is different than writing for a newspaper. I’ve been having a lot of fun with it,” Anna thought about the articles she’d sent to her former editor and the short stories she had locked in the brain of her computer.

“What else have you been working on?” Hunter wanted to know what made Anna tick. He thought it may prove to be a long term project.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” Anna waited for his nod. “I had to Google How to Start a Fire.”

Hunter couldn’t help himself. He burst out with one quick gut laugh. “Isn’t a fire one of man’s most primal skills?”

Anna threw her napkin at him. “I’m a city girl,” she reminded him.

“I’ve been lighting fires since I was 8 years old,” the laugh remained in his voice. “Was Google helpful in this regard?”

“Not especially though the directions were clearer than the television stand manual.”

Hunter shook his head. “Next time there’s a decent night we’ll have some lessons, if you like.”

“I nearly practiced with that thing,” she gestured toward the television. “It was driving me crazy.”

Lightning flashed across the sky, immediately followed by an extremely loud crack of thunder. Almost immediately another crash sounded outside. Hunter jumped to his feet with panic in his eye.

“I hope that didn’t hit my truck,” he moved to the window and realized he couldn’t see anything through the driving rain.

“You’re not going out there,” Anna’s voice stopped him. “There’s nothing you can do about it now if it did and you’ll just end up soaked.”

Another flash of lightning showed both vehicles in perfect condition. A large branch lay next to the vehicles. It had come within six inches of ruining Hunter’s night.

“It’s getting worse out there. I should head home.” Hunter didn’t want to leave, nor did he want to overstay his welcome. It could be a tenuous line, he knew.