of saving lives didn’t make sense to them. But she’d never felt the calling to be a doctor, and she knew history was important, too. Understanding the past kept people from repeating their mistakes.
“So, Layla, what’s the game plan for today?”
Layla smiled. She liked Ms. Melody’s attitude. When Layla had shown up on the Blakes’ doorstep over a week ago she hadn’t known what to expect. She definitely hadn’t been prepared for the older woman to believe her story about hidden treasure. She’d faced so much cynicism from colleagues regarding her research she’d come prepared to argue her points. Ms. Melody had listened and asked intelligent questions. Plenty of them. The older woman had also taken two days to review Layla’s research, which had resulted in more questions. It was only then that Ms. Melody had agreed, with a request for periodic updates.
Ms. Melody had told Layla that her grandson would most likely not support her decision, but she’d also promised she would deal with him when the time came. Besides, she didn’t expect him to return home for a few months, and it was highly likely the treasure would be found by then. Layla hoped that was true. Her creditability with the university was on the line. The possibility of tenure was riding on the success of this dig and publication of her findings and techniques.
She’d participated in several excavations, but this would be the first one she’d spearheaded. Funds from the university hadn’t been as much as she’d requested, due to budget cuts, but she was determined to make good use of what she’d been given and show results. The head of her department, Dr. Clayburn, hadn’t offered much support. He’d even tried shifting the funds to another project. Lucky for her, he’d been out of the country when the vote had been taken.
She’d worked all her life for this chance to prove she was an archaeologist of note. If her research was correct—and she knew it was—she’d be the first one to find any of Jesse James’s treasure, and she’d be the first to use some of the latest technology on a successful dig.
“Since all the permits are in order, I contacted the members of my team,” she said, smiling. “They will be arriving in a week.” Her excavation team consisted of students from the university, some from her classes and some from Dr. Clayburn’s. She had spoken with every one, and they were as anxious as she was to get started.
“You have to be excited about that.”
“Yes,” she answered, though she knew that’s when the pressure would begin. “The equipment will start arriving on Monday.” Layla took another bite into her cookie before adding, “Again, I really appreciate you letting us dig on your property, Ms. Melody.” It showed Layla that Ms. Melody believed in her work.
“There’s no need to thank me. Anyone who took the time to read your research with an open mind would reach the same conclusion. It’s historically documented that James and his gang robbed a bank in Tinsel and then headed to east Missouri before a sheriff posse drove them south. I think you’re right. Given how fast a horse can travel loaded down with a cache of gold bars, it makes perfect sense that the gang holed up somewhere in this area before taking a chance to continue east. And it makes even more sense that they got rid of some of their loot before heading toward the state line. Like I said, your research was thorough.”
An inner glow filled Layla. Although others had read the same documentation they couldn’t forget her age or inexperience. Because of that, they assumed Layla was on a wild-goose chase, wasting university funds that were needed to finance more important archaeological projects.
At that moment they heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up in the yard.
Ms. Melody glanced over at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even noon yet. I wonder who that could be.”
Getting up from the table, Ms. Melody went over to the window and glanced out. When she turned back around, a huge smile covered her entire face. Layla heard the love in the older woman’s voice when she said, “It’s Gavin. He’s home. The rancher returns.”
* * *
Gavin grabbed his duffel bag from the truck before closing the door. He tilted his Stetson back on his head and looked at the car parked in front of what his grandmother called the guest cottage and what he called the party house. It was where he and his teammates would hang out whenever they visited.
Gavin hoped that his grandmother hadn’t extended an invitation for the woman to stay on their property as well as dig on their land. If that was the case, he intended to send her packing quickly. He didn’t want anyone taking advantage of his family.
He thought about what he was missing in Mississippi. He’d looked forward to being in bed with that bartender about now. Calling to cancel had been hard. Promising to head her way as soon as he’d taken care of this unexpected family emergency had satisfied her somewhat.
Walking around his truck, he took a deep breath of the Missouri air. This was home and he’d always enjoyed returning after every covert operation. Silver Spurs meant a lot to him. To his family. It was his legacy. It was land that had been in his family for generations. Land that he loved. He enjoyed being a rancher almost as much as he enjoyed being a SEAL. Almost. He would admit that being a SEAL was his passion.
Gavin appreciated having a good man like Caldwell to keep things running in his absence. The older man had done the same thing during Gavin’s father’s time. And Caldwell’s father had been foreman to Gavin’s grandfather, so Caldwell and his family also had deep history with the ranch.
While he was home, Gavin intended to return to ranching. He couldn’t wait to get back in the saddle and ride Acer as well as help Caldwell and the men with the herd. And he needed to go over the books with Phil Vinson, the ranch’s accountant.
However, the first thing on his agenda was a discussion with his grandmother about her giving someone permission to dig on their land. Hopefully he’d have everything settled by next week and he would hightail it to Mississippi. All he needed was one night with a woman and then he’d be good for a while.
He had taken one step onto the porch when the front door swung open and his grandmother walked out. She was smiling, and when she opened her arms, he dropped his duffel bag and walked straight into the hug awaiting him. She was petite, but her grip was almost stronger than that of a man. He loved and admired her so damn much. This was the woman who’d been there for him when his own mother had left. The woman who’d been there for him when he’d laid his father to rest sixteen years ago. She had, and always would be, his rock. That’s why he refused to tolerate anyone trying to take advantage of her kindness.
“Welcome home, Gavin,” she said, finally releasing him so she could lean back and look at him from head to toe as she always did when he returned from one of his assignments. “I didn’t expect you for a few months yet. Did everything go okay?”
He smiled. She always asked him that knowing full well that because of the classified nature of his job, he couldn’t tell her anything. “Yes, Gramma Mel, everything went okay. I’m back because I understand you and I need to—”
He glanced over his grandmother’s shoulder and he blinked, not sure he was seeing straight. A woman stood in the doorway, but she wasn’t just some woman. She had to be the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Hell, she looked like everything he’d fantasized a woman to be, even while fully clothed in jeans and a pullover sweater. He didn’t want to consider what his reaction would be if she was naked.
His grandmother sensed his attention had shifted. She turned around and smiled at the woman. “Layla, come out here. I want you to meet my
