Born of Treasure (Treasure Chronicles Book 2) (14 page)

Clark laughed again. “Entertainment and a bath. Nice of you both.” Tradition stated that all guests needed to be bathed by women of the tribe so they could be cleansed of sins.

The woman slapped his shoulder. “You have a mate for your needs. Pretty little thing, for a white girl.”

“Too skinny,” said the kneeling girl with a tsk. “We must fatten her, or will that come with a child?”

“We use rising wraps,” he said. “No chance of a child yet.” Or ever. He winced. Why couldn’t they have their dream, with a family?

Farther down the stream, other females worked on Garth and Zachariah. At least they couldn’t understand Bromi, or they might have questions about Clark’s mate.

The standing woman ran her fingers through his wet hair and set to work braiding it into a single plait. She wove glass beads into the strands and tucked an eagle feather near his ear. “What we have heard of you is bravery. You do not allow the world to stifle you and you do not drag others into your battles.”

Clark scowled. “Your chief wants me to use his warriors.”

“It may not be our battle, but we do not mind helping a friend, especially one with honor.” She draped a leather thong with a carved whistle on the end around his neck.

“We love to hurt the white men.” The kneeling girl grinned, squeezing his manhood a final time before standing. Water trickled down her legs. She and the other women wore modesty skirts made of deer skin, but their breasts hung free to the morning sun.

“What about your… brother?” She nodded toward Zachariah, who tried to cover himself with his hands while two women washed him with rags. “Would he find me pleasing?”

“He’s admitted he’s never had a woman before.”

She tossed her two braids over her shoulder. “Then it’s time he did.”

“Can you believe it?” Zachariah gripped Clark’s arm, his lips dry and parted. “She offered herself to me like…” He gulped as if regretting his choice in words.

“Like a whore?” Clark supplied. They sat apart from the chief and his leaders, so no one would hear their whispers. The Bromi gathered around a campfire passing a clay pipe with green smoke that coiled.

“Do they do that with all guests?” Zachariah sputtered.

“She likes you.” Clark shrugged, his gaze on the chief. The medicine man chanted while holding a sage stick. It would help clear their minds so they could make a wise decision.

He switched his attention to Amethyst on his other side. They’d put a red dress on her with a leather belt and deerskin along the collar. She picked at her fingernails, the silver polish chipped to make it speckled. Dried blood caked around the cuticle of her left pointer finger.

He bumped his head against hers and smiled when she blinked. She would be safe here. Safety counted now, nothing else. Beside her, Georgette clutched her hand.

The chief rose and clapped. The other men around him knelt to bow their heads to the dirt, staying stationery as the chief stepped by them toward the Treasures. His woven cape drifted over his shoulders to his knees.

Clark held his breath as his mind screamed at him to run, to refuse, and his heart told him to take any help he could.

“We are in agreement,” the chief said. “You will remain with us. We will make you tribal members. Where we go, you go. You will be family.”

Stay… and do nothing. Clark stiffened. That couldn’t be an option. The chief should know he didn’t want to stay with the Bromi. They all belonged to the “white” world.

“What did he say?” Garth asked.

The answer dried into a lump. Clark gulped. “They want us to live here.”

“We can’t.” Amethyst gasped. “We have to go home. We can’t stay here in… in tents. This isn’t our life. We have houses and clothes and… and…” Her chest heaved and she blinked, her eyes glossy.

She belonged in a world of glittering jewels and night clubs that made her feet tap to the rhythm. She should’ve married that old beau, Joseph. She could’ve been happy with him in the east, at his summer house, and his New Addison City mansion, or whatever else he lived in, not trapped amongst the Bromis with Clark.

“Give them our thanks,” Georgette said. “Tell them how much we appreciate the offer. I would like to know what we should do to help acclimate ourselves to the tribe.”

“You can’t be serious,” Amethyst shrieked. “Mother, we can’t really stay. We don’t belong with the Bromi.”

“Amethyst,” her father snapped. “We’ll stay. They’ve offered us shelter. We need it.”

“We don’t have to stay forever,” Zachariah said. Was that hope in his voice?

Clark slammed his fist into the dust. Stupid army, stupid tonic. Everything had brought his life to this point made him hate himself. “Thank you.” The words ground out in the Bromi tone. “We accept.”

Did they? Did he? Clark rolled to his feet and stomped toward the woods. It might not be respectful to the Bromi, but anger sizzled along his skin. His flesh crawled as if energy built up beneath it. That energy, all that self-loathing, could explode. He wouldn’t have to worry then. Everything would be… gone.

Pine trees grew around the river. He shoved them aside, ignoring the pricks against his hands and arms. He marched through the water, cold liquid splashing up his legs to his knees. On the other bank, he kicked a fallen log. No one would come after him. Good. He needed that alone time. He needed—

“Clark!” Amethyst shoved through the trees toward the river. “Get over here. I’m not going through that.”

“Leave me alone.” Of course she would follow him. “You’re safe with them. You don’t have to come.”

“I want to be with you.” She folded her arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that. Any of that. I was surprised.”

“No, you’re right. You deserve all of that. You deserve that other life.”

“I want
you
.”

“Don’t push her away.” Eric appeared at Clark’s side.

“Where have you been?” Clark kicked a rock toward the ghost.

“Is your father here?” Amethyst called from across the wide, but shallow, river.

“If you don’t want to stay here, then don’t.” Eric spread his hands. “You can make up a new identity. Make up a new home.”

“I yanked everyone into this with me. I can’t pretend it can all go away.”

“Senator Horan controls the army out here. He told them about the tonic. He’s pushing them to find you. If they get you, you can pretend it doesn’t work. He’s the one you have to work on.”

He
could
let himself get caught. They couldn’t keep him forever if the tonic didn’t really “work.”

“Then,” Eric continued, “you can assassinate Senator Horan.”

eremiah shielded his eyes with his hand before remembering his hat, the brim cocked off to the side. He shifted it back to block the sun. His telegram should’ve arrived that morning. Even if his family was preparing for the festivities, they would’ve sent a steamcoach to pick him and Alyssa at the train station.

“Something’s wrong.” He scowled. “No one’s here.”

Alyssa rested her hand on his arm. “I’m sure they’re just busy.”

His mother never let anything, not even business, get in the way of her family. “No, I can feel it. Stay here.” In the early afternoon sunlight, so bright it hurt his eyes, surrounded by family greeting family, children running wild on noon recess from school, farmers emerging from selling their wares in the city, Alyssa would be safe.

Jeremiah carried his bag with him to the ticket booth in the station. Less bags would make Alyssa less of a target.

The seller adjusted his green-tinted sun spectacles. “Yes, sir, Mr. Treasure?”

“How are you, Bill?” His father would’ve chatted for longer, maybe asked about the new baby, and the seller did open his mouth to begin a tirade. “Anyway.” No chance for the seller to reply. “I don’t see my folks anywhere. Must’ve gotten tied up back at the ranch. I’ll need some transportation out there. Are the hired cabs all rented out?” If they were, he’d beg a ride off someone in town.

Bill pursed his lips. Maybe Jeremiah should’ve been a bit friendlier. “We’ve got them both. I’ll send the driver out in the jiffy.”

“Thank you.” Jeremiah fished two coppers from his pocket and slid them over the counter as a tip.

Bill kept his hands on his desk. “Be careful, Jeremiah. Things haven’t been right since the army invaded.”

Invaded
. What a great word for it. Jeremiah nodded.

Bill lowered his voice. “Last couple days, we haven’t seen any of the normals from your pa’s ranch. Not a one. Most of the army hitched out, but from my reckoning, the numbers make it look like they left some back there. Haven’t seen your family since. A couple army men came to town to buy a wine barrel and that’s been it.”

Jeremiah’s heart clenched before it raced. “Thanks for the heads up.” That couldn’t be a positive sign.

The positive lessened further when the hired cab pulled into the Treasure Ranch and a Tarnished Silver lifted her head off the lawn by the veranda. She lay on her back with her heels digging into the grass, her legs fallen open. Silver-painted sandals sparkled on her feet.

“Who is that?” Jeremiah growled. He clenched his hand into a fist around his bag.

Alyssa drew a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t recall seeing her here before.”

Wind blew over the open-topped cab, the cover left off for the warm day. The driver shifted in his seat as he slowed the contraption. A puff of steam exploded from the back pipe.