to the bed.
Holding her close, tilting her face to look up into his, he talked. He told her of his plan. As he talked, her face began to look less haggard, less worn, and he was pleased with himself.
When he finished, she threw her arms around him, exulting, “Oh, Gavin, Gavin, my darling. You’re brilliant! Who will ever know? Travis’s son surely won’t know Briana isn’t Dani. And Travis won’t be there. Why, it won’t take any time at all. When you come back with all that money, we’ll live like royalty. We’ll send Briana away so that no one will ever find out.”
Gavin caught her arms and said gently, “It might take awhile, Alaina. Briana doesn’t know this—she has no need to—but we are going to come away from Nevada with more than Dani’s half of the fortune. We might very well come away with all of it. I’ll have to look over the situation when we get there. I can’t plan everything until I’ve seen what’s what.”
Alaina nodded. “There’s one thing more,” he went on, fingering her necklace. “I need money right away. For passage to America. And to take care of Briana’s brother. She’s not stupid. Unless she knows I’ve started carrying out my part of the bargain, she won’t cooperate.”
Alaina’s elation faded. “There is no money, Gavin. You know that.”
He gave the necklace a tug. “There’s this.”
Alaina clutched the jewels possessively as she shook her head wildly. “No. Gavin, this is almost all I have left, all that’s worth anything. And it has sentimental value. And—”
“And we can buy a dozen just like it once we have the Coltrane fortune,” he snapped. “Hand it over.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but he wasn’t moved. Tears never moved Gavin. With trembling hands, she unfastened the necklace and let it slip into his outstretched palm.
He gave it a playful toss, then put it on the bedside table.
“Now then,” he whispered huskily, pushing her down onto the bed. “I want your other jewels, my lovely bitch…the jewels that belong only to me.”
Chapter Seven
Flat valleys, ringed by buttes and mesas, framed by rugged mountains—this was the world the posse from Silver Butte and Colt became a part of as they tracked the bank robbers who had killed Charlene Bowden.
For five grueling days, the men rode, senses keenly alert for any sign. The Indian scout Marshal Booth procured fell by the wayside on the second day when it became clear that Colt was a better tracker. Like his father, Colt did not depend solely on signs like horse tracks and broken brush, but trusted his instincts, putting himself into the mind of his prey. He thought as the prey would think. It worked. They were on the trail of the gunmen, and not far behind them.
The trouble was, they were in rugged country, with many places men could hide in ambush. The posse moved slowly, lest they become an easy target for the outlaws.
Except for Colt, who took chances and refused to listen when Marshal Booth told him to be careful. Booth and his deputies were all eager to catch the men who’d murdered Charlene and robbed the townspeople of their hard-earned money. Yes, they were eager. But they were careful not to jeopardize their lives or the lives of the others.
They stopped on the fifth night to camp on the top of a jutting butte. It was a good place for keeping an eye out all around them. Marshal Booth helped himself to some rabbit stew, then walked over to where Colt was sitting next to a clump of mesquite. Colt wasn’t eating, wasn’t doing anything except what he’d been doing ever since they’d ridden out of Silver Butte—keeping to himself in frigid silence. He had thrown an impenetrable wall around himself.
Booth knew Coltrane and the Bowden girl had been seeing each other for a while, and he knew there’d been some trouble. Hell, old man Carleton Bowden had pitched a fit out in the street, saying it was Colt’s fault his daughter was dead, threatening to kill Colt.
The
Holding her close, tilting her face to look up into his, he talked. He told her of his plan. As he talked, her face began to look less haggard, less worn, and he was pleased with himself.
When he finished, she threw her arms around him, exulting, “Oh, Gavin, Gavin, my darling. You’re brilliant! Who will ever know? Travis’s son surely won’t know Briana isn’t Dani. And Travis won’t be there. Why, it won’t take any time at all. When you come back with all that money, we’ll live like royalty. We’ll send Briana away so that no one will ever find out.”
Gavin caught her arms and said gently, “It might take awhile, Alaina. Briana doesn’t know this—she has no need to—but we are going to come away from Nevada with more than Dani’s half of the fortune. We might very well come away with all of it. I’ll have to look over the situation when we get there. I can’t plan everything until I’ve seen what’s what.”
Alaina nodded. “There’s one thing more,” he went on, fingering her necklace. “I need money right away. For passage to America. And to take care of Briana’s brother. She’s not stupid. Unless she knows I’ve started carrying out my part of the bargain, she won’t cooperate.”
Alaina’s elation faded. “There is no money, Gavin. You know that.”
He gave the necklace a tug. “There’s this.”
Alaina clutched the jewels possessively as she shook her head wildly. “No. Gavin, this is almost all I have left, all that’s worth anything. And it has sentimental value. And—”
“And we can buy a dozen just like it once we have the Coltrane fortune,” he snapped. “Hand it over.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but he wasn’t moved. Tears never moved Gavin. With trembling hands, she unfastened the necklace and let it slip into his outstretched palm.
He gave it a playful toss, then put it on the bedside table.
“Now then,” he whispered huskily, pushing her down onto the bed. “I want your other jewels, my lovely bitch…the jewels that belong only to me.”
Chapter Seven
Flat valleys, ringed by buttes and mesas, framed by rugged mountains—this was the world the posse from Silver Butte and Colt became a part of as they tracked the bank robbers who had killed Charlene Bowden.
For five grueling days, the men rode, senses keenly alert for any sign. The Indian scout Marshal Booth procured fell by the wayside on the second day when it became clear that Colt was a better tracker. Like his father, Colt did not depend solely on signs like horse tracks and broken brush, but trusted his instincts, putting himself into the mind of his prey. He thought as the prey would think. It worked. They were on the trail of the gunmen, and not far behind them.
The trouble was, they were in rugged country, with many places men could hide in ambush. The posse moved slowly, lest they become an easy target for the outlaws.
Except for Colt, who took chances and refused to listen when Marshal Booth told him to be careful. Booth and his deputies were all eager to catch the men who’d murdered Charlene and robbed the townspeople of their hard-earned money. Yes, they were eager. But they were careful not to jeopardize their lives or the lives of the others.
They stopped on the fifth night to camp on the top of a jutting butte. It was a good place for keeping an eye out all around them. Marshal Booth helped himself to some rabbit stew, then walked over to where Colt was sitting next to a clump of mesquite. Colt wasn’t eating, wasn’t doing anything except what he’d been doing ever since they’d ridden out of Silver Butte—keeping to himself in frigid silence. He had thrown an impenetrable wall around himself.
Booth knew Coltrane and the Bowden girl had been seeing each other for a while, and he knew there’d been some trouble. Hell, old man Carleton Bowden had pitched a fit out in the street, saying it was Colt’s fault his daughter was dead, threatening to kill Colt.
The
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