Chapter One: Three AM
Perched on the side of the bed, one boot off and the other still snugly in place, Kid asked, "You got this how?"
"From Mason Sinclair."
"The owner of most of 'n the block, including this hotel and the Two-Bit Glory saloon?"
"The same," Heyes replied, excitement remaining ripe in his tone.
Kid looked from his partner to the soft piece of tanned leather. "And why?"
"Told you that already," Heyes shot back, aggravation creeping into his voice.
"Yeah, but I am not sure I understood the why." Kid looked about their luxurious hotel room attached to the saloon of said Mason Sinclair, with its dark green velvet curtains pulled tight against the fading night. Not hearing an answer from his cousin, he inhaled deeply, pulling in the aroma of stale whiskey and cigar smoke that hung on both of them. Glancing to the ticking clock, the only sound in the room, he saw it was close to three and returned his attention to Heyes. "So, again…why?"
"He bet it in the game." The dimpled smile broke free in its full extravagance. "And I walked away with it."
"Hope you walked away with spendable coinage, too."
Rather sharp and bluntly, Heyes responded, "Of course I did."
Kid peered closer at the aged leather in his hands. "Is that the Missouri River?"
"See, you see it the same as me," Heyes said, leaning in as well, the golden light from the gas lamp flickering on his eager face. "Look at these landmarks—these curves, those shapes—it has to be the Breaks."
"I don't know, Heyes," Kid muttered, his voice a low drawl as he ran a finger along the river's path. "Missouri covers a lot of ground. This could be about anywhere along it."
With a brisk shake of his head, Heyes pointed out pointed symbols lined up like writing. "I know it's the Breaks. But this isn't like any map I've seen before. Kid, it's old, ancient even. Tell me you aren't the least bit curious?"
The map fell limp when Kid released one side, and, in an almost childlike gesture, he rubbed a forearm across his face before slanting an eye at his cousin. "You actually put down a bet for this?"
"Two thousand," Heyes answered as if it was the most natural fact around.
Kid's blue eyes widened, "I would say, 'Are you pullin' a fast one on me?' only I know you too damn well."
The dark eyes narrowed, a corner of the mouth pulling back until the dimple creased deeply.
"Don't be get all proddy. I'm too tired for it." Kid groaned, handing over the map and bending to pull his other boot. "Not when you risked two thousand of our take…" he eyed the stained, tattered-edged map Heyes had spread across his thighs, "on that!"
"Ah, hell, Kid," Heyes barked out a short laugh. "It isn't like we work hard for the money."
"I would place my own bet the Boys don't feel that way."
Heyes' face tightened all over again. "I'm the one who came up with that plan, took weeks and weeks for me to finish the details, and it all worked out sweet as peach schnapps."
"Would not say the Boys felt that way," Kid said, snagging both boots by their uppers and standing them by the corner of his footboard. "And for that matter, neither do I. That plan of yours was loaded with…" he paused, his eyes taking on a faraway sheen. "What was that word Preacher kept using?"
"Arduous."
"Yeah, arduous, hard-on-the-back kind of work, and you know how I feel about that."
Shame-tinged Heyes' expression, wilting him a bit, and with a one-shoulder shrug, he answered, "We got the money."
"That we did."
"And I won the poker pot. So, there is no need to tell 'em I bid five hundred."
"I would say that would be the best course since you only gave 'em celebration funds to last the night and kept hold of their full shares until later."
Gripping Kid's shoulder, fervor flowing back into his face, Heyes chortled, "And I still have all that and now this." He stroked his free hand across the colorfully tattooed leather.
Dryly and with more than a healthy dose of bitterness, Kid responded, "A treasure map." Pulling from Heyes, he stood and unbuckled his holster. Hanging it on the corner of his headboard, he growled, "Get off 'n my bed."
Carefully rolling the map and wrapping a stiff leather tube about it, Heyes stood. Stepping to his side of the room, he chuckled, "It's a real treasure map, Kid, and we are meant to find it. I can feel it."
With a low snarl, Kid flung his shirt at his cousin, who deftly swerved from contact.
"You will feel better about it after you've slept."
"Damnation, Heyes, there are maps for buried treasure all across the West. So, I ain't going to feel better about it in the morning." Throwing back the double layer of blankets, Kid stepped from his pants and dropped into the plush feather bed. "This is a damned fool's errand, Heyes. But, knowing you as I do, I also know we will be the fools headin' out to perform it."
"Now, Kid…"
With a sigh, Kid flopped over, putting his back to Heyes. "Heard enough."
Waking to an empty room with hot, bright light glaring about the curtains, Kid Curry took his time; emerging clean and freshly shaved, he made his way down the carpeted staircase built wide as a statement to the hotel's standing. Spying his partner, Hannibal Heyes, in the dining room with a steaming cup of coffee by his spread newspaper, Kid made a left turn down the hall that led to the Two-Bit Glory saloon, thinking, I can order up breakfast in there.
"This seat taken?"
Looking up from his plate, Kid took in the five-foot-nothing brunette in the blue dress that flowed deliciously down her curves all the way to the floor. Rising with a smile, he pulled out a chair for her. "Pretty as bluebell this mornin', Caddy." He retook his seat as she adjusted herself into the one he had produced for her, asking, "Want me to get Phil to bring you some?" He motioned to his two plates, the one before him stacked with pancakes drowning in syrup while the crumbs on the other attested to it having been loaded with bacon and eggs.
She gestured at the steaming coffee pot. "No, thank you. Although, I would not mind a cup."
Raising his voice, Kid called, "Hey, Phil, 'nother cup."
As Phil, the day bartender, much slimmer and older than the burly night shift man, hurried over, Kid again ran an eye over his newly acquired breakfast companion.
Caddy Burchard was a witty European beautywith a mysterious past she refused to divulge. He figured whenever in Cheyenne, she would remain his first choice for company. Except the choice was not always his, and instead of enjoying amorous play in her boudoir last night, he spent it with his elbows hitched on the bar, overseeing the room as Heyes partook in high-stakes poker.
"I missed you last night," Caddy said, watching the coffee stream into her cup. Merci beaucoup, Phil," she said, turning a pouting smile on Kid and picking up the cup to cradle its warmth between her hands.
"Apologies," Kid answered, taking up his fork, "required elsewhere."
She took in the subtle furrow of his brow as he toyed with his fork, contemplating that it revealed how he was still caught between duty and desire. Deciding to give him an out, she lightly stated, "Oui, I saw you were guarding your ami." She took asip and found herself asking, "Does that get tiring?"
Kid shrugged, slicing a bite from the stack of pancakes. "Here and again."
She eyed him a long moment before cooing, "Well, you are a big garcon," she took a sip before coyly adding, "And I should know," with a teasing smile.
Color promptly rose in the face of the man seated across from her, the same one who consistently reminded her of the statue of David she had seen in Florence, Italy, oh so long ago. The crimson blush spread stripping away all his rough edges, leaving behind the boyishness that had earned him the moniker Kid. "You look good this matin," she purred. "Then again, I should say this afternoon. As you slept so late."
He flashed a white toothy smile. "Needed it; between you keeping me busy the night before and then…" his eyes drifted across the saloon sporting far more gold gilt work than he figured any other in Wyoming; he cut another bite. "Yep, needed it."
"When did he permit you to retire?"
"Isn't like that," Kid briskly answered, shoving his in his dripping forkful.
"As you say, however, I see it otherwise and it is why I accepted Dr. Elias Wilkinson's advances, even though he was a soft-bellied with cold hands. Leastways, he was polite and quick." Caddy watched for a reaction, but Kid kept his gaze locked on his plate, shoveling in food. As he did, she found herself admiring his profile and long lashes. "Would have preferred a real man." She slid a satin-slippered foot up Kid's leg.
Still, he gave no reply. Figuring it was best to cease taunting him, for even though Kid understood her mode of living was as a ceiling expert, it was wrong for her to throw it back at him as if he were supposed to swoop in and fix her life like some knight in shining armor. "Here, m' Cheri, is a point which will interest you. Dr. Wilkinson is studied in Vikings."
Kid paused, set his fork down, and took up his coffee. "Why would that interest me, Caddy?"
"He is to lecture at Turnverein Hall, a discussion on Vikings. He told moi about them being over six-foot tall with red-haired from their roots to their nether curly regions."
Kid frowned, taking a drink.
"He went gushed, on and on, over how the Vikings landed in America long afore any of the kings' and queens' pawns set foot here. He described their sailing dragon-headed boats across the Atlantic, then the Great Lakes, and he is convinced they traveled the Missouri River to its headwaters. He came to this country to travel where they did. However, he is stopping, along the way, at various towns to give lectures, more like, sharing what he believes is the true story of their journey."
At the mention of the Missouri River, Kid's nose wrinkled, knowing he would be visiting the very same waterway soon enough because, despite anything he might say, he knew his cousin would have his way. Hannibal Heyes always got his way, one way or another.
Reaching over, Caddy swiped at a puddle of syrup on Kid's plate, licking flirtatiously from her finger. "Par Dieu, but Dr. Wilkinson has discovered treasure at Viking sites back in Europe, primarily around the United Kingdom."
"Sounds like a load of rubbish, he is spouting, as there isn't anyone about here who knows any better."
Passing him a simpering smile, Caddy pinched pancake from his plate, seductively forcing it and her finger between her rouged lips.
His mouth went dry as he watched her, and Kid took a drink of his coffee. Surfacing he said, "Appears to me you have more on your mind than talking about Vikings." When he set his cup down, Caddy placed her hand on his before he could withdraw it.
Lowering her eyes, she leaned forward, the low square neck of her dress gaping and affording an abundant view of her ample endowments."Whenever the notorious, handsome Kid Curry is in town, I vraiment only have far more on my mind, and agenda, one might even say."
The warmth of her hand on his flooded him with remembrances of nights with her silky body in his arms as she eagerly pleased him. His breath quickened, but then Heyes, the Devil's Hole Gang, and the map snapped him back, sharp as a whip, and he tensed.
Before he could pull his hand away, Caddy flicked a look to the stairs, "Ready to start in on my agenda now."
His pulse beating fast, Kid shook his head and slid his hand free. "I need to speak with Heyes."
"Surmise it is regarding a map," she lightly answered to cover how she felt brushed off.
"You surmise correct," Kid answered, with a light, nearly inaudible snort, slashing a forkful from the greatly diminished pile of cakes.
"I also surmise Heyes may wish to speak personally with Dr. Wilkinson."
Kid's fork pausedinmid-air.
"May want to show the Doctor that Viking Treasure map," she raised a brow, "the one your partner has taken from Mason."
Kid set down his fork and cast a slow look about the mostly empty room, his eyes finally resettling on Caddy. The bright blue of his eyes turned frosty, as he had a feeling, she was hiding something—no surprise, as she was forever working some angle. "Heyes won that map fair and square," he said, his voice edged with suspicion.
"I jamais said otherwise." She turned her face pointedly to the door, beyond the expansive cherry wood bar that led to Mason Sinclair's office.
Kid's understood what she was not saying and pushed his chair back, standing. "He got plans."
"None that he has outright said." She grabbed Kid's left hand, wrapping it in hers. "Want moi to tell you where to find Dr. Wilkinson."
"Thinkin' you should."
"Promise moi, you will spend another night with moi afore you scoot from town?"
"You know I ain't one for promising."
"That is not the slightest bit true. It is easy to see you have made plenty of promises to Hannibal Heyes."
Contemplating his cousin, their childhood, all the trails they had ridden, and thedifficulties they had survived, he flashed a tight smile. "That is a whole other scenario, Sweetheart."
"If I tell you where to find Dr. Wilkinson," she turned his hand, kissing its palm. "And, I know you will not be able to see him until this evening, which means you will be staying in town tonight…" she kissed again, "so, I will tell if I have you all to myself after the lecture."
Heyes will do all of this with or without me, he thought, and…damn it, this will not be as easy as he is imagining. It never is. Sliding his hand from hers, Kid caressed Caddy's face. His smile rising and then falling like waves before a storm, one he felt sure would soon be surrounding him. Bending, he placed his lips to hers, tasting the sweetness of the syrup, feeling the warmth lifting from her skin. After a long moment, he pulled back. "You win. I am yours tonight," telling himself, Might as well savor what I can before whatever new hell this map leads us to. Straightening, he hitched his thumbs on his holster belt. "Now, where do we find 'em, Caddy?"
