Westin Legacy. Alice Sharpe

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      She swallowed hard. “Yes. Did he take anything?”

      Adam extinguished each torch as they left the cave. “The burial chamber looks relatively unchanged from a few weeks ago, but judging from what he was up to today, I think he’s getting ready for a major haul.”

      Limping alongside him, she did what she knew she had to do. “Adam, I’m sorry. If I had stayed outside the cave like you asked me to, you might have found out who he is.”

      “Hmm,” he said, looking down at her. “That thought crossed my mind, too.”

      “On the other hand if you’d just let me come with you, none of this would have happened.”

      He didn’t answer.

      “Do you always have to do everything yourself?”

      “Echo, I swear—”

      “But it’s also possible,” she interrupted, “that if I hadn’t diverted his attention and drawn his fire, he might have shot at you again. I might have saved your life.”

      “Honestly. If we weren’t related—”

      “We’re not. Not in any way.”

      “Well, maybe not technically…”

      “Not in any way,” she repeated. “If we were, would I do this?” And with that she grabbed his arm, turned him to face her and kissed him.

      He backed away at once. “What are you doing?”

      “Just what you’ve been wanting to do since you ogled me in your driveway.”

      His eyes grew wide, the whites glistening in the poor light. “You are certifiable, do you know that?”

      “Maybe I’m just honest.”

      He shook his head again and clutched her elbow with an iron grip. She would have liked shaking him off, but the support helped. After dousing the last torch in the cavern he spoke again. “So, did you strike gold on your little prospecting tour of the mine shaft?”

      “I didn’t have time,” she grumbled, thoroughly self-conscious now that she’d given in to the impulse to kiss him. She wasn’t used to men backing away from her. He was acting like nothing had happened. She knew she should act the same but her pride was a little wounded.

      It took a while, but eventually they made it to daylight. It was like being reborn, this coming out of the dark into the light through a small opening, and it felt pretty wonderful. Echo took the deepest breath she’d managed yet.

      “How are you going to keep him out?” she asked as he looped the chain through the door.

      “I reinforced the burial chamber exit but who knows how long that will work. First things first. You need a medic. Your backside is a bloody mess.”

      “If I were him, I’d come back tonight while you’re all asleep.”

      “He’s not ready yet,” Adam grumbled, and she let it drop.

      The reality of her backside occupied almost every moment of the long return ride. Thankfully, Bagels plodded along as though bored with the whole thing until he smelled the other horses or recognized the trees—hard to say how he knew they were home, but he did. His pace picked up, she bounced around harder and through it all, clenched her teeth and didn’t utter a single sound. By the time she slithered out of the saddle in the ranch yard, she was pretty sure she deserved a Purple Heart.

      Pauline appeared on the large porch with a yellow Lab wagging its tail by her legs. Maybe the intervening years had grayed the housekeeper’s red curls, but Echo thought she would have recognized her kind face and compassionate eyes anywhere.

      Pauline opened her arms as she hurried down the stairs. “Echo De Gris, I heard you were here. Just look at you. You’re all grown-up and looking more like your mother, God rest her soul, than ever. Stay down, Bonnie,” she added, directing her comment to the dog. To Echo, she added, “Come here, honey.”

      Echo cautiously shied away from Pauline’s hug and the dog’s enthusiastic greeting with an apologetic smile punctuated by a wince or two.

      “What happened to you?” Pauline demanded, eyes narrowing as she took a good look at Echo’s hair and clothes and the smudges and scratches and dirt. “Turn around. Merciful heavens. You’re home a few hours and you get yourself all banged up just like you always did. Or did Adam have something to do with this?”

      Adam held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. Echo still has a flair for the dramatic. After I unsaddle the horses, I need to talk to Dad. Where is he?”

      “Still out working on the mowers with Jamie and Pete and Cody.” Pauline waved Adam away and turned her attention back to Echo. “Come along, young lady, we need to get you cleaned up and bandaged before supper, though Lord knows what time of the night those men will actually come in to eat it.”

      ADAM STOOD AT THE WINDOW and looked out at the moon-drenched silvery landscape. His stomach felt like it was full of snakes and he had his father’s obstinacy to blame for it.

      He’d moved into his new house when the weather got warm although there was no time to work on fine-tuning the interior and wouldn’t be for several months. Nevertheless, he’d hauled in furniture and made himself a home, anxious to be on his own.

      Ranching had cycles, all geared to market day in October when the season’s calves would be sold. Everything else worked up to and around that. After market, there would still be a million things to do as the winter progressed—fences and machinery maintenance and all the rest required constant vigil. Then they’d move the herd closer to the ranch as calving season approached—the actual grueling weeks of hundreds of cows giving birth, many of them first-time mothers or heifers who needed more help than the experienced animals—followed by moving the herd up to the high pastures for the summer, while mowing the organic grass and hay they would need to feed the cattle when the pastures froze during the winter. Buying good feed because you ran out of your own could eat up profit like crazy.

      On and on it went. Since the beef was certified organic, each animal needed to be cared for in a more hands-on approach; scour and other maladies that befell newborn calves needed monitoring without massive or hit-and-miss doses of antibiotics. It all took extra time.

      And his father had agreed to give it an all-out effort, respecting Adam’s research and passion about the direction to take with the herd. Adam deeply appreciated this sign of faith.

      On the other hand, the old man wouldn’t give on the cave. He was stubbornly holding on to the idea that bigger, stronger locks would solve everything and the Westin men could safeguard an extinct peoples’ earthly remains forever.

      Adam pushed himself away from the windowsill and tried lying down on his new mattress. He was usually comfortable being alone, although tonight he kept thinking about what Echo had said about him resembling a damn Bowerbird. He’d looked it up on the computer after supper—she was right, those birds really went to the extreme. Built elaborate nests for the sole purpose of attracting a sexual mate. Wham, bam, his job was over, the female went her merry way and he waited until the next female bird took a fancy to his nest.

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