Westin Legacy. Alice Sharpe
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.
But Adam Westin was not a bird. He was a man and if she couldn’t tell the difference—
But he thought she could. There had been a few moments today when he’d felt the overwhelming femininity of her colliding against him; he’d had to force himself to remember this wasn’t another pretty girl, this was his uncle’s stepdaughter. Worse, she was a television producer. What in the hell did a cowboy and television producer have in common?
How about that kiss?
No, she hadn’t meant that. She was just toying with him. She liked to make him squirm, that’s all that was.
He was soon back at the window, fidgeting with the blinds he’d installed, thinking maybe if the room was darker—
What had Echo said? Something about how if she was the looter, she’d come back tonight.
What did she know?
He heard a far-off motor, thought he saw indistinct shapes moving through the trees; it even looked like a horse was down there on the far side of the lake.
He rubbed his eyes and shook his head and everything disappeared except the feeling that he shouldn’t be locked inside this house, he should be at that cave. If Echo was right, he’d never forgive himself…?.
Or her, for that matter.
Fifteen minutes later, dressed and armed with his trusty hunting rifle, he rode out of his barn.
Chapter Four
He skirted the calm lake, traveling the moonlight-dappled trail at a steady gait. Now that he’d made the decision to go, he cursed the hours he’d wasted after their late supper.
Echo hadn’t shared the male-only meal. Pauline explained she and Echo had eaten hours earlier and Echo had begged off visiting that night in favor of nursing her wounds. He would have liked to see her—since the moment he’d left her side, she’d been ever present in his mind. He found her combination of audacity and humor both annoying and interesting. The Westin household could at times be pretty darn somber.
There’d been a couple of years when things had been different at the Open Sky. Right after Cody married Cassie and brought her home, every corner of the big place had suddenly filled with light. Cassie was a beauty with tumbling fair hair and angelic blue eyes, and the way she and Cody had looked at one another had made Adam curious about the kind of love that blossomed into a lifetime promise. He’d enjoyed their interactions, he’d been amused by his father’s more frequent smiles. Cassie even managed to win over Pauline who was pretty damn territorial when it came to her kitchen and household. But Cassie was like that. Easy to like, full of kindness.
At least at first. And then she’d grown increasingly quiet and concurrently, Cody had retreated inside himself. It was obvious their marriage was in trouble.
It culminated at last in a macabre reenactment of the past. Cassie left the ranch just as Adam’s mother had done decades before her. At first it had seemed she’d just be gone a few days, but time had passed and she’d just not come back.
Afterward? After Cassie left? It was obvious to Adam that Cody was determined to find her. Maybe it was because their father hadn’t tried to find their mother that he became obsessed with it. He’d hired a detective he thought no one knew about, and Adam was pretty sure it was a call from that detective that had made Cody call Pierce home months before.
Love hadn’t been kind to the Westin men, although Pierce swore his own tragedies that had included a ruined marriage had lifted the moment he met Princess Analise Emille. Adam hoped the passion he saw between them would burn forever; it worried him that his brother had chosen to share a ranching life with a woman raised in a castle of all places…?.
And yet she seemed tough under all that refined glamour, and very sure of what and who she was. What more could anyone give than the truth of their essence?
Careful, he warned himself. You don’t want to become one of those damn cowboy poets.
He urged the horse onward. Solar Flare knew the trails as well as he did—both of them could travel in near dark. Without Echo and Bagels to create a diversion, the route they traveled was a lot faster. Within an hour he was close enough to the cave to slow down lest thundering hoofbeats alert someone—if anyone was out here to alert.
Solar Flare appeared to understand the concept of tiptoeing or so it seemed to Adam as he led him along the path. The valley where a long-extinct Native American tribe had presumably summered hundreds of years before was full of shadows; the cave mouth was a short climb up the mountain face and, as luck would have it, located on the side of the mountain illuminated by the moon.
Still, unfortunately, it was impossible to tell if the covering door to the cave stood ajar. Too many shadows. He’d have to go up there and look.
He tied Solar Flare to a tree before proceeding down the hillside toward the valley. His plan was to skirt the flat areas and climb the mountain hugging the shadows. This time he’d have his rifle ready.
If the lily-livered thief was currently inside the cave busily looting his greedy little heart out, maybe there was a better way of catching him, one that wouldn’t result in more gunfire. How about guarding the cave entrance, calling Cody on his cell to get together a few guys and come on out here? Call the sheriff, too. Hell, the more the merrier.
On the other hand, the very act of disturbing the artifacts was a sacrilege and if left to do as he pleased, the thief would undoubtedly strip the burial cave clean before daybreak. He might not get out if Adam guarded the door, but the damage would be done.
A movement in the bushes ahead settled matters. The thief apparently hadn’t made it to the cave yet. If Adam could get the drop on him, he could launch a surprise attack and bundle the culprit off Open Sky. By dawn he’d be back to work and this would be over with.
All these thoughts raced through Adam’s mind as he crept down the dark side of the hill, glad the moonlight wasn’t directly overhead to give away his position. Every few seconds he stopped to listen, alarmed when he no longer heard movement. Had the thief detected Adam’s approach?
The question was answered an instant later when Adam felt the barrel of a gun jab into the middle of his back. Damn, he’d been made.
“Drop the rifle.”
The voice was muffled. Adam flashed on the bandana the thief wore over the lower part of his face; that explained the voice…?.
“I said drop it.”
Adam slowly lowered the rifle to the ground at his side. When the thief unexpectedly leaned over to pick it up, Adam seized the moment. Turning on the balls of his feet, he tackled the man.
Clutched together, they tumbled down the sloping land, Adam’s rifle abandoned behind. The guy wasn’t very big or strong though he threw some decent punches and with both hands, which meant he must have lost his weapon, too. After a few moments of wrestling and grunting, Adam pinned the guy to the ground and sat on him, keeping a forearm across his throat. They were both breathing heavy.
Gradually, it occurred to Adam that something was wrong.
He tried to blink into focus the pale oval face beneath his but the light was miserable. He felt for the bandana but it must have come off in the struggle and his fingers grazed slick lips. The click of teeth warned he’d come close to getting bitten. He loosened his stranglehold. “Who the hell—”
“Are