Galen handed her a flashlight, then stepped close to the edge of the cave opening, shining his own light so they could see as she was lowered down.
“What exactly am I looking for?” she asked, glancing up.
“Bodies,” Jace said. “Dead bodies.”
She let out a small gasp.
Galen laughed. “Don’t frighten her.”
“That’s right.” Jace grinned at Rose as he let out more rope. “You’re like a canary,” he told her. “You’re going to let us know if there’s any trouble down below.”
“Canaries die,” Rose said.
Galen smiled, impressed with her spirit. “Only in the case of noxious gas. And believe me, I’m up here with the only noxious gas around. You’re just going to be down there for a moment.” His words seemed to soothe her, but Galen felt suddenly anxious as Rose disappeared from sight.
It got very quiet underneath the velvety New Mexico sky. Galen listened, his pulse thundering, his breath short, his stomach even cramping a bit—maybe he shouldn’t have allowed his brother to talk him into this—and then suddenly, the rope went completely slack.
Chapter Three
“Rose!” Galen shouted, realizing that she was no longer at the end of the rope he held. He tossed it away, as did his brother. The two of them flattened themselves against the lip of the cave, peering down. “Rose!”
“Hold your horses,” she called from below. “All that bellowing is making me nervous.”
“What are you doing?” Galen gulped against the fear tightening his throat. She sounded as if she was talking to them from the bottom of a jar. “You were supposed to just take a quick look and come back out.”
“Yeah, but it’s pretty cool down here.”
Galen shone the flashlight into the crevice. “Put the rope back on and get up here!”
“Keep your pants on, boys. I may never come this way again, so I want to fully live in the moment.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Jace muttered. They pressed as close as they could to the hole, trying in vain to see what Rose was up to.
“I know just as much as you do, which isn’t exactly a comforting feeling,” Galen said.
“She’s a sparky little thing, isn’t she?” Jace commented, his tone admiring.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Galen demanded.
“Not to my knowledge. Sometimes I wish I did. Other times, I think how lucky I am that there’s no nagging woman in my life.”
“Hey!” Rose called up. “I heard that! I think you should know it’s a well-known fact that men nag as much as women. Sometimes more. Now, get your muscles going, fellows. I’m ready to come out.”
Galen grabbed the rope with relief. He and Jace tugged her out as fast as they prudently could. She came out of the crevice, illuminating herself with the Maglite.
“Look,” she said. “I’m Tinkerbell, rising from Hook’s lantern.”
“Someone likes children,” Jace said. “Which is a fortunate thing, because I like children myself. Maybe you and I—” they set Rose on solid ground “—should think about having some children of our own.”
“I don’t think so,” she said sweetly, and she smiled at Galen, whose breath went out of him. “Anyway, look at what I found.” She held up a handful of silver coins, jingling them.
He was about to say,
Marvelous, but you had me so worried when the rope went slack,
when the sound of a truck engine approaching sent them running for their own truck.
“Holy crap,” Jace said, patting his jeans. “Where are the keys?”
“Damn 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.
* * *
G
ALEN
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 happening there he wasn’t comfortable with” made more sense.
“They’ve dug a damn tunnel,” Galen said. “They’re burrowing under Rancho Diablo and the land across the canyons.”
“Could come from as far away as Mexico,” Rose agreed. “I think that cave is just a storeroom, an adjunct off the main tunnel. Maybe I went down some kind of air vent, or a fissure that’s recently cracked open, which they haven’t discovered. Had you ever noticed it before?”
Galen hadn’t, and right now it was hard to think with Rose sitting on his bed, a vision of temptation. What he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her, maybe even find out what was under those happy-face pajamas. But one didn’t seduce an employee, no matter how sexy she was.
His brothers had seduced employees and made them wives.
Not me. I’m going to leave well enough alone. We shouldn’t even have sent her down an air vent or shaft or whatever the hell that stupid hole was. What was I thinking?
He’d been thinking that he wanted any excuse at all to see her, and hadn’t dreamed she’d accept this mission and throw herself into it with more gusto than any Callahan.
“We haven’t had a whole lot of chances to check out that land. First of all, it’s huge, so there’s a lot to cover. We don’t have the manpower to do it, especially when we’d be trespassing.” Galen rubbed his shoulder absently. “But Xav Phillips was over there poking around one day—he’s one of our foremen—and he noticed something funny about the ground in that area.”
“We should go back and check it out more thoroughly, maybe in daylight.”
He looked at her, stunned. “You sound way too much like my sister. Don’t even think about going back there without me.”
Rose smiled, and his slow-working brain went blank as he stared at her mouth. Those lips were just made for him to kiss. He could feel it, the call of the wild screaming through his blood.
“I won’t,” she said, and he snapped back to the present.
“I’ll fire you if you do, on the spot, no questions asked,” he warned, suddenly afraid that Rose was indeed just like his sister, with an impetuous, adventuresome nature that bordered on wildness.
Or bravery.
The military would call it bravery.
His sister was too brave for her own good. And this spunky woman on the end of his bed was beginning to sound very much the same.
“I promise,” Rose said. “It wouldn’t be any fun without you, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t call what we did tonight fun.”
She smiled again. “It was a lot of fun.”
“You realize we were within a rabbit’s foot of getting shot at.”
“You had us covered. I trust your marksmanship.”
Galen closed his eyes for just a moment, opening them to stare at her. In the photo she’d snapped of the weapons cache, there’d been a few AK-47s, and a few more exotic styles of weaponry. Someone was gearing up for battle, and he wondered if Rose recognized just how little protection his rifle would have been against, say, a clip with multiple rounds in it. “While my marksmanship is decent, we didn’t want to get caught.”
“That’s true.” Rose stood, her look teasing. “Still, it was something to tell the grandkids, wasn’t it?”
He shook his head. “God, no. Monkey hear, monkey do. Didn’t you ever tell your parents, ‘Well, you did it, why can’t I?’ As far as the kids are concerned, one should never admit to anything more than sitting in church seven days a week. At least that’s my plan.”
Rose laughed. “Not a very believable one, but whatever. When you have kids, you can revise your strategy.” She went to the door. “Good night, Galen.”
He watched her disappear into the hallway. When the door closed, he turned off the lamp and tried to settle back into a relaxed state conducive to sleeping.
It wasn’t going to work. Between the tale of the tunnel under Rancho Diablo, and the sweet woman he knew was sleeping just down the hall, Galen wasn’t certain he would ever relax again.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text. He glanced at it, his gaze widening with each word.
You know a tunnel under Rancho Diablo means this ranch is sitting on Dante’s Inferno? And maybe the nine circles of Hell? You should let me go down there again to find the entrance. I just need a little more time and equipment. If there’s a tunnel, it’s reinforced, so it would be a great find to turn over to the local authorities.
Galen’s blood chilled. Rose would do it. She wouldn’t think anything about turning over information about what she’d found to the sheriff, or probably even to the government. He thought he remembered hearing that her father had been in the military in a secret division, and then was a Texas Ranger before being voted Tempest’s sheriff many years ago.
Mr. Carstairs had spawned a fighter.
Nothing good could come of such a darling girl with the genes of a warrior sitting in her bed, pondering the next phase of an adventure she was itching to ignite.
Then again, there was no reason the two of them couldn’t ignite things together. Why start a fire by yourself when you could invite a friend to create mayhem with you?