it!” Galen exclaimed as they sat breathlessly watching Jace look frantically for the keys.
“Those keys on the dash?” Rose asked, and Galen uttered a curse word he never thought he’d say in a lady’s presence. Jace grabbed them and jammed one into the ignition.
“Wait!” Rose said. “We probably left a ton of footprints. They’ll know we were here!”
“No time to clean that up. Floor it, Jace.” Galen looked behind them. “Unknown vehicle at six o’clock.”
Jace switched on the engine, pulling away from the cave without turning on the truck lights. They sped into the darkness, and Galen lifted a rifle down from the gun rack, watching behind them.
Once they made it to the main road, he let out a ragged breath. “I don’t think they saw us.”
“Or decided not to give chase,” Jace said.
“It’s beautiful down there,” Rose said, completely unbothered by their haphazard getaway. “You can’t believe all the amazing stuff in that cave.” She held up the coins, eyeing them in the beam of her flashlight. “And look at this awesome statue.”
Galen stared at the delicate silver figure of a mustang, a Diablo, in Rose’s even more delicate palm. “That’s Rancho Diablo treasure.”
“Really?” Rose handed it over and he took it, reverently touching the horse, feeling it hum with the spirit that kept Rancho Diablo alive. “Then you’re going to love this, too.” She reached into her waistband and pulled out a handgun, giving that to him.
“What were you doing down there? Excavating?” Jace demanded. “Next time, we’ll send you with a sack so you can bring up everything your heart desires.”
“Good,” Rose said, “because I had to leave behind a really sweet painting of your grandfather.”
Galen stared at the woman sitting next to him, the new nanny they’d hired to watch the children and educate them and play with them, and it hit him that he was in the presence of a kindred spirit. A spirit that was unafraid and that walked in harmony with each moment. “How do you know it was our grandfather?”
She looked at him. “Everyone in Tempest knows Chief Running Bear. He hangs out sometimes at the Ice Cream Shoppe. You’ve got property in Tempest, so when he’s in town, he stops by. The kids love his stories.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I took some photos on my cell phone. I’ll be very curious to see if this Maglite gave off enough light to capture anything. Too bad you can’t fit down there. It’s like a museum of contraband.”
Galen’s breath caught at her sheer bravery, not to mention audacity. Instead of worrying that she’d barely escaped detection and possibly danger, Rose acted as if she’d passed a pleasant evening in an enchanted grotto. She handed him a cookie from the bag, and gave one to Jace, too. Then she smiled at Galen, and he grinned back, abruptly aware that his heart had just jumped headlong into the hands of a woman who wore smiley-face pajamas to bed.
* * *
GALEN LAY IN HIS BED after a hot shower, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He’d looked at the photos Rose had taken of the cave, and with the powerful Maglite she’d been able to illuminate some revealing items. There was a cache of guns in the hole, enough to do great damage in the hands of some dedicated shooters. He’d share those photos at the emergency family meeting he planned to call tonight. The painting of his grandfather had been a bit more difficult to see, but it was still an amazing portrait of a man he couldn’t imagine sitting still long enough to be painted.
Galen resolved to get that painting out of the cave ASAP. It looked as if they’d been using his grandfather’s likeness for the purposes of recognition and training. No doubt Wolf—or the cartel—had a bounty on Running Bear’s head. The portrait was old, done maybe twenty-five years ago—hard to tell without seeing it in good light—and no doubt stolen. Galen wasn’t certain how many years had passed since Wolf and Running Bear’s relationship had ruptured forever, but maybe Wolf had taken the portrait when he’d left the tribe.
Galen would be willing to bet his uncle also had photos or sketches of the four elder Callahans the cartel wanted flushed out for turning them over to the government: Molly and Jeremiah Callahan, his cousins’ parents, who’d built up this ranch, and Julia and Carlos Chacon Callahan, his and his siblings’ parents, who’d wholeheartedly embraced the battle for Rancho Diablo. Wolf would never stop trying to turn the Callahans over to the cartel, but they were in hiding, in witness protection. They’d never be found.
No one knew where they were, not even Fiona.
No one except Running Bear.
And me. But I’ve kept myself away from anything that might weaken me for so long, I know that secret is buried deep within me. I don’t understand Wolf’s desire for vengeance on his family. Even if they turned him in to the government, he shouldn’t want his relatives dead.
Family is all that matters.
Galen glanced over at the silver horse standing on his nightstand. The filigreed saddle glinted in the moonlight pouring in his bedroom window. It was a fine piece, designed by a master silversmith.
The mustang had come from someone who knew the old ways, and who understood the Diablos.
There was only one person he could think of who knew such things: his father, Carlos.
Somehow, Wolf had gotten hold of it, which meant he was getting closer. Galen decided he would wait until morning to discuss the situation with Grandfather, and then proceed with a family meeting. Matters were turning urgent.
An almost silent tap on his door interrupted his raging thoughts. “Yes?”
The door opened. “Galen?” Rose said. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” He sat up, turned on the lamp on his bedside table. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She sat on the foot of his bed, wrapped in a plaid red-and-green robe that didn’t match the smiley-face pajamas she’d put back on. She wore some kind of fuzzy boots that looked comfortable and warm, and her blond hair had been washed clean of dirt and cobwebs, hanging in damp strands around her scrubbed, makeup-free face.
He thought she was cute as a baby deer.
“I forgot to tell you something else I saw in the cave.”
“What?”
“Besides the weapons,” Rose said, “there was also a front loader. I didn’t take a photo, because it was at the back.” Her blue eyes focused directly on him, waiting for him to draw the same conclusion she had.
“A front loader.”
She nodded.
Galen leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “There’s no way they got a big piece of machinery down the crevice, and filled the spot back in. The ground we were lying on was solid.”
“Exactly.”
Suddenly, Wolf’s desire to keep them off the new property became clear—and Storm’s wish to sell them the land because “things were
