Babe in the Woods
Caroline Burnes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROLINE BURNES

continues her life as doorman and can opener for her six cats and three dogs. E. A. Poe, the prototype cat for her Fear Familiar series, rules as king of the ranch, followed by his lieutenants, Miss Vesta, Gumbo, Chester, Maggie the Cat and Ash. The dogs, though a more lowly life form, are tolerated as foot soldiers by the cats. They are Sweetie Pie, Maybelline and Corky.

To the staff of TLC, who treat their human patients with as much tenderness as their four-legged ones. And to Corky—irreplaceable.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

REBECCA BARRETT leaned into the whipping black mane of the stallion and gave him more rein. His pace increased, his huge hooves pounding as he raced through the dense green of an unfamiliar stretch of forest. She glanced behind her, her blood racing and her imagination running as wild as the horse. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear the hooves pounding after her. The men rode spectacular horses, but none were a match for hers. Yet they were gaining on her—the forces of evil. She alone could deliver the single message that would save the world, and her only route to safety was to ride so fast they couldn’t catch her.

A small tree had fallen over the middle of the woodland road. Rebecca suspected an ambush. Lifting out of the saddle only an inch, she felt the powerful muscles bunch beneath her, and then the horse curve under her as he sailed over the tree.

The exhilaration was almost more than she could stand. Diable was the finest horse she’d ever ridden, and she’d had more than her share of top-dollar rides. As a teenager in Tennessee, she’d been on the A Circuit. But this wasn’t a horse for the show ring. This was a horse for adventure. This was Lightning, Fury, Trigger, Silver and the Black Stallion all rolled into one.

It was still spring in Mississippi, but the temperature was in the eighties and after a few more miles, she let Diable settle into a ground-covering trot. The exciting ride had been a terrific fantasy, but the only thing chasing her was new job duties. She had a million things to do, but one of the things she’d promised Aurelia and Marcus McNeese was that she’d exercise Diable, Cogar and Mariah. Who could ever imagine she’d find the job of her dreams that also included three wonderful horses? Fate had certainly smiled down on her when she’d applied to Blackthorn to oversee the renovation of the estate and the work on excavating an old Indian burial mound that looked as though it might become the richest source of information yet discovered into the lives of the Mound Builders.

As she and the horse drew closer to the burial mound, she slowed her pace. By the time she walked Diable from the mound to his barn, he’d be thoroughly cooled. She grinned at the thought of the barn—a magnificent structure, with an apartment for Joey Reynolds. The barn had been the first thing Marcus and Aurelia McNeese had built in their dream of making Blackthorn their home. The caretaker’s cottage was where Rebecca called home while she worked at the estate. The newlyweds had big plans, and they’d hired Rebecca to make sure their plans were properly implemented while they took a long honeymoon in Europe. Rebecca had been left in charge of building, excavation and all other aspects of Blackthorn, including keeping an eye on Joey.

Rebecca reflected that the apartment for Joey was one of the biggest acts of kindness she’d ever heard of. And she’d never seen anyone love a place more than Joey loved Blackthorn. She could see him right now, weeding what had once been a formal garden. His back was soaked with sweat and the smile on his face seemed permanent. By the end of the summer, he’d have the garden back, blooming with lush beauty. Joey had a green thumb and infinite patience. He’d also put in a small vegetable patch that seemed to grow four inches every night. Rebecca teased him that he’d gotten the seeds from a magician and soon a beanstalk would be up in the clouds.

As enjoyable as Joey was, other aspects of the job were drawbacks, and the primary one was walking right toward her. “Get down off the horse. I want to talk to you.”

Rebecca had long grown accustomed to Brett Gibson’s imperious manner. She’d intended to dismount, so she did.

“I hope you’ve explained to that simpleton that he can’t just start digging up the ground and planting things wherever he’d like,” Brett said, using a glove to wipe the sweat from his eyes. “He’s started a compost heap. He’s wheeling barrows full of horse manure from the barn. I want him stopped right now.”

Rebecca glanced over to the area Brett had indicated and saw that Joey, was, indeed, making a compost heap and not all that far from the burial mound. In her opinion, it was located far enough from where Brett was excavating the mound that it wouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t, but it did. But what really troubled Brett was the fact that she and Joey were on Blackthorn soil at all.

“Joey talked over all his plans with Marcus and Aurelia before they left for Spain. I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything they hadn’t given approval for.” She saw the anger flare in Brett’s eyes. He hated the fact that she was his superior on this job. At times, it seemed he hated her. “And please don’t call Joey a simpleton or any other names. He’s a kind and gentle man and something like that would really hurt him.”

“I didn’t come here to baby-sit ‘kind and gentle’ people. I came here to do what may prove to be the most important excavation in this region.”

“I understand the importance of your work, Brett. I’m trained in your field, though I chose the business side of it. But Joey’s work is just as important to him as yours is to you.”

“A garden isn’t of any significance to anyone.”

She could see the deep anger in Brett’s gray eyes. He was red in the face and a vein was pulsing at his temple. A bit more of that in the hot sun and he’d have a stroke.

“Why don’t you get a glass of water and take a break in the shade?”

“Don’t patronize me,” Brett said. His fingers closed on her arm as she started to turn away, but when he saw the look in her blue eyes, he released his grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you.”

“I don’t want anything untoward to happen while the McNeeses are away,” Rebecca said. “We both know they left me in charge of everything that goes on at Blackthorn—including the new construction and the archaeological dig. I know you don’t like it, but there it is. And I’m telling you to get a glass of water and find some shade.”

She didn’t wait for an argument. She led Diable away from Brett and the mound and toward the narrow trail that looped back to the stables. Her blue eyes were flashing with anger, but her breathing was calm and regular. Brett really aggravated her. He was a jackass. If Marcus and Aurelia had any idea of how he behaved toward Joey, they’d fire him.

Rebecca knew she could track them down in Spain, but she had no intention of disturbing their long-postponed honeymoon with squabbles between employees. She was in charge, and she’d handle it.

She swung back into the saddle and continued to the barn. She had to cut through a stretch of woods, and she welcomed the cool shade. Dang, it was so hot already. Only May and the promise of true summer made her doubt her toughness. She’d grown up in Memphis, but she’d spent the last ten years away. First on a scholarship at UCLA and then later in San Francisco where she quickly rose to the top of a real estate management firm and became the resident expert on historical architecture. That interest had driven her to study more design. That, coupled with her business background, made her perfect for the job at Blackthorn.

A flit of movement caught her attention. Someone was in the woods with her. She felt a pinprick of concern. There’d been a murder in Blackthorn woods only a few months before. A woman had been killed. Aurelia had told her all about it—and about how Aurelia had been tried and found innocent of the murder.

Rebecca had been told to call the sheriff if there was any sign of meddling on the property. The intruder was hurrying along, unaware that she’d entered this part of the woods and had seen him.

“Hey!” she called out.

The man began to run.

“Hey! Come back here!” Rebecca gave chase. Diable was certainly faster than the man, but the woods were so thick the horse couldn’t get into them.

She saw the bushes quake and quiver, the new green leaves marking the passage of the intruder as he headed toward the highway.

“This is private property. No trespassing allowed,” she yelled after him.

It was probably some teenager, curious about what was going on at Blackthorn. Aurelia and Marcus had found the treasure that had been a source of hunts for decades. But some folks would only take that as encouragement that there was more treasure buried. Aurelia shook her head. Treasure hunts and casinos were two places it had never crossed her mind to believe she might get money.

She dismounted at the stables, unsaddled Diable, gave him a good rubdown and promised Cogar that he was next on the agenda for a ride.

When she got back to Blackthorn she went to the caretaker’s cottage where she was bunking. She dialed the sheriff’s office and dutifully reported the intruder. Rebecca was always good for her word.

SHERIFF DRU COLSON noted the overturned leaves. Someone had been in the woods at Blackthorn. Most likely just a curiosity seeker as Rebecca thought. Far more interesting than the disturbed leaves was the woman who’d reported them. He’d never seen eyes bluer than hers.

“Did you get a look at the intruder?” Dru asked as he rose to his feet. Rebecca Barrett was about five-six with honey-colored hair and a figure that did justice to the riding breeches and boots she wore.

“He was tall, a little on the thin side, sandy-colored hair. He was wearing some kind of plaid shirt, predominantly blue, and jeans.”

Dru raised his eyebrows. She was also pretty cool in a situation. Few people noticed so many details.

“Did he say anything?”

She shook her head. “As soon as I called out to him, he took off running.”

“I’m not happy with the fact that someone was out here. Most of the locals know the treasure is gone and after Lottie Levert’s death, Blackthorn is off-limits.”

“It was probably a kid.” Rebecca nodded at that assessment. “He ran off like a sprinter.”

“I’ll call the principal at the high school and get him to make an announcement to the students, reminding them that trespassing is a criminal offense. Kids don’t understand that any kind of trouble with the law has unforeseen repercussions.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca said. Her smile was warm, like sunshine.

“I knew the McNeeses had hired a crew up here, but I haven’t seen the changes. Would you mind giving me a tour?”

“I’d love to. Shall we start with the barn? They’ve framed in the house, but it’s a long way from show time.”

Together they walked through the filtered sunlight of the woods. Dru felt the tension leaving his shoulders. He was reminded of being a boy, those golden days of total freedom and innocence when he’d played with his school friends. They’d had endless adventures playing Robin Hood or war or Tarzan, some of them in the woods of Blackthorn.

“It is beautiful here,” Rebecca said, pointing to a cluster of wild orchids that were nestled in some pine needles.

“Blackthorn is one of the prettiest places on earth. I’m glad the McNeeses found the money so they can preserve the estate. How is work going on the main house?”

“Without a hitch,” Rebecca said. “It’s going to be a magnificent house. The plans are phenomenal.”

“Batson and Batson are the architect and contractor, right?”

“Yes. Regina Batson is here on the job.” She gave a crooked smile. “She came here to work with her parents, but I’m afraid her heart’s been captured by the thrill of archaeology.”

“Ah, the allure of the past. Still, it can’t hurt to have the boss’s daughter on-site. Batson and Batson stand behind their work. You shouldn’t have any problems.”

“That makes me feel better.”

Dru grinned. He liked the idea that he made her feel better. She certainly made him feel alive. He caught a glimpse of the new barn through the trees and let out a low whistle. “Marcus loves those horses.”

“Aurelia seems fond of them, too,” Rebecca pointed out. “Especially Mariah. She loves that mare. Who wouldn’t?”

“I’ve had a lot of training in the field of observation. You’re a horsewoman, too, aren’t you?”

Rebecca’s laughter was full and free. “Very good, officer. You caught me with my boots on.”

He felt a foolish grin touch his face and he didn’t care. He was acting like a high-school boy when the prettiest girl in school had time to talk to him. It was fun.

“Never underestimate the value of good training.”

She laughed again, and her hand brushed his arm. “I didn’t realize you were a comedian. Aurelia never mentioned a word about it.”

“I’m afraid Aurelia had a lot on her mind when we met. I never believed she was guilty of murdering Lottie Levert, but I had to charge her. All the evidence pointed to her.”

“She told me, and she never bore any grudge against you.”

“She’s a terrific woman. I’m telling you, when she came into Natchez as the heiress of Blackthorn, the whole town nearly dropped its collective teeth.”

“She and Marcus seem made for each other.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I was sorry to hear that her mother died. That was a blow to Aurelia, especially with the trial and then finding the treasure. I think they said they were going to Spain on their honeymoon?”

“Spain,” Rebecca agreed. “They’re traveling without an itinerary. They said they’d check in, but that I was to handle whatever came up.”

“May I make another trained observer comment?” Dru asked.

“Sure.” Her face showed slight concern.

“You look up to the task.”

She laughed again. “A comedian and a flatterer. I like them both.”

“Well enough to have dinner with me tonight?” Dru was shocked at the words. Since he’d broken up with his girlfriend of five years, he hadn’t even thought of dating. He knew too well the toll his job took on personal relationships, and he never wanted to go through the hardship of such a breakup again. Celeste was a great person. The fault had been in him and his total dedication to the law.

He could see that Rebecca was taken aback by his offer, and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Her blue eyes held his.

“Dinner would be nice,” she said. “I guess I just assumed you were involved with someone.”

“Is that a compliment?”

She laughed. “Perhaps. I’m not as free with them as you are.”

“A challenge. I like that.” He was feeling better about his offer now. Rebecca Barrett was quick-witted and beautiful. It was an evening he was looking forward to.

“Let me show you Joey’s apartment.”

She took him through the barn, her slim form preceding his as they examined the stalls and climbed to the loft. Still chatting easily, they walked back to Blackthorn and to the site where the framework of the new house stood in stark relief against the sky.

Dru looked to the west where he could see the broad band of the Mississippi River sweeping by. Just slightly south, downriver, was the town of Natchez. He loved this land, this area.

“You look like you’ve just found home,” Rebecca said.

“Home in the sense of this whole county,” Dru said, sweeping his hand to include the entire vista. “I’ve never aspired to owning Blackthorn, but I’m glad to be friends with the owners. I hope to be invited to dinner often.”

Rebecca showed him the house plans. He spoke of the verandas and the plants, enthusiastic about the landscaping of the yard.

“You sound like you’d make a fair landscape architect if you ever decided to give up the law,” Rebecca said.

“I was trained in that field. That was my career ambition, but my dad was sheriff, and when his health failed, I sort of inherited the office. Then I got elected,” he said, shrugging, feeling the heat creep into his cheeks.

“And they just keep electing you,” Rebecca said, grinning with a bit of an imp in her eyes.

“Something like that.”

“You must do a good job.”

“Now that’s a matter of opinion, but I do love my work. Most of the time. There are always those hard cases when you have to prosecute someone you know and like. Thank goodness those don’t happen often.”

There was the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind them and Marcus turned to see a man with angry gray eyes headed for them.

“I told you to keep that simpleton away from me. He’s spilled a wheelbarrow of manure right in the middle of an excavation that took me three days.”

Rebecca lifted an eyebrow. “Brett Gibson, this is Sheriff Dru Colson. Sheriff, Brett is working on the excavation of the Indian mound with some help from John Ittawasa.”

Dru felt an instant dislike for Brett. Part of it was the man’s arrogant demeanor, but the other part was the tiniest edge of contempt he leveled at Rebecca.

“Mr. Ittawasa isn’t helping me,” Brett snapped. “He’s here to make sure no one steals any of the artifacts. Including me and my team.”

“John is a good man,” Dru said carefully. “He loves the history of his people far more than anyone else. I’m sure he’s very excited to see what you find.”

“Right,” Brett said. “So what are you going to do about that—”

“Stop it, Brett. Don’t say that word!”

Dru felt Rebecca tense beside him, and he was aware of her hands clenching. She wanted to slug the arrogant fool, and Dru thought he might help her.

“I’ve told you not to refer to Joey in those terms,” she said evenly. “If he’s made a mistake, I’ll correct it.”

“You’d better put a leash on that boy and keep him out of my way.”

“Or what?” Dru asked conversationally, but with enough ice that it stopped Brett in his tracks. Dru saw his true colors. He’d rage and try to intimidate Rebecca, but he wouldn’t stand up to Dru or what stood behind him—the law.

“Or nothing. I’ll quit,” Brett said.

“None of my business, but I have to point out that might not be such a bad idea,” Dru said. Suddenly, he’d developed a case of loose tongue. Twice in the past half hour he’d said exactly what he was thinking.

Brett glared at the sheriff and walked away.

Rebecca turned to Dru with a rueful grin on her face. “He’s good at his job, just a little prickly.”

“Yes, something like that. He needs a few Southern manners.”

“He’s got a good crew, let me introduce you.”

Dru followed Rebecca to the mound where three men were gently brushing dirt away from what looked like a series of clay vessels.

“Tony Wells, Rich Tanner, and Carlos Liotta,” Rebecca said, introducing Dru. A woman carrying bottled water came trudging up the slope. “And this is—”

“Regina Batson,” Dru said, smiling. “I saw your dad last week and he told me how proud he is that you’re working with him. He said you were taking a break from school for a while but that you should have your degree soon.”

“I helped with the design of the estate,” Regina said, “and then I became interested in the dig. You know, everyone’s heard about Blackthorn. Brett and Rebecca said I could help out with the excavation. Who knows, we might find more treasure.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter.

“Yeah, we heard about that treasure. And we heard about the trouble out here before we came,” Rich said, standing up. He was tall, lanky, and the sweat had soaked his hair so that it stuck to his face. “Do you suppose there’s more treasure?”

Dru laughed. “Sorry boys, you’re about three months too late.”

Rich nodded. “Story of my life. Day late and a dollar short.” He glanced around. “Still, no harm in looking, I suppose.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not true,” Rebecca said instantly. “Brett is excavating the burial mound and that small area at the base of it. Digging elsewhere is prohibited.”

Rich glanced at his two friends. “Whatever you say, boss lady.” He grinned, and there was no malice in his tone.

“Thanks,” Rebecca said. “I’m only following the directives given to me by the owners.”

Dru took his farewells of the men and headed back to his patrol car. He’d been eager to get out of the sheriff’s office when he’d taken the call to Blackthorn. It had been his best decision in weeks.

“Regina Batson is certainly an interesting addition to the team,” Rebecca said lightly. “When she’s around, Brett makes an effort not to be a total bear.”

“Thank goodness someone has a positive effect on him.” Dru shrugged one shoulder. “May I pick you up at seven?” he asked.

“Perfect. Casual?”

There was such hope in her voice that he laughed. “Casual it is. Seafood.”

She smiled. “I’ll be ready.”

CHAPTER TWO

REBECCA WAS GLAD she’d chosen the yellow sundress. Sitting on the dock of the restaurant with a gentle breeze from the Mississippi, she felt sexy and feminine. It was impossible not to, the way Dru Colson was looking at her.

“Why aren’t you married?” Dru asked.

Rebecca laughingly held out her wrists. “Are you going to arrest me before you interrogate me?”

Dru laughed too, but a little self-consciously. “Sorry. I guess that did come out a little on the gruff side.”

“Not gruff, just direct,” Rebecca said. She bit her lip as she decided how much to tell him. “I was engaged. Last year. The wedding was planned, everything.” She hesitated, but she could see in his eyes that he would ask. He wasn’t a man who held back on the questions. “I cancelled the wedding, but Mike didn’t object too strenuously. I think we’d both begun to see that we weren’t meant for each other. We just wanted different things.”

“Like children?” Dru asked.

“Yes.”

“I know exactly how that goes,” he said ruefully. “Celeste, the woman I was involved with for five years, finally gave me the ultimatum—marriage and kids or she was leaving.”

She could see that he still struggled with the loss. “Mike was the same way. He just couldn’t believe that I didn’t want to settle down and start a family.”

Dru’s eyebrows lifted. “You didn’t want the children?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She couldn’t help a wry grin as she realized how shocked he was. It was true. Most women wanted to start families when they were in their late twenties and early thirties. “It isn’t that I don’t like children, it’s just that…” She broke it off. It was impossible to explain. Mike’s mother had said she was unnatural. Mrs. Cuevas had been very angry with Rebecca, and she’d let everyone know it.

“Hey,” Dru said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I understand. I love my nieces and nephews, but I’m just not ready to take on that responsibility. I don’t know that I’ll ever be, and I won’t be railroaded into something that important to please someone else.”

“Exactly!” Rebecca said, and she felt as if Dru did understand. She’d been the eldest of seven children, and all of her life had been spent taking care of others. Once she got out of college, she’d vowed to live her own life for at least fifteen years before she began living for someone else.

“Another drink?”

She looked at the empty Long Island iced tea glass. The drinks were delicious, but potent. She’d never been one to deliberately set herself up for a headache. “Better not.”

“Coffee?”

“That would be great.” She found she wanted to linger on the restaurant’s dock with Dru. They’d spent the entire evening talking about Natchez and Blackthorn and the mound-building Indians who were now the focus of Brett Gibson’s research in Natchez.

As the waitress placed the coffee on the wrought-iron table, Rebecca refastened the elastic band around her honey-colored hair. She’d begun the evening with it down on her shoulders, but the wind whipping off the water had sent it flying. The only solution was scissors or restraint.

“This has been the most relaxing evening I’ve had in months,” Dru said.

“Me, too. Thanks for asking me. Maybe Joey will let me borrow his newfangled kitchen to cook a meal for all of us.”

“I’d like that,” Dru said.

They sipped their coffee and let the warm night sounds drift around them. It was unusual to spend only one evening with a man and feel comfortable enough not to force the conversation. But Dru was different from most men she’d known. He had a quiet confidence that allowed her to relax—to drop the role of hostess and caretaker that had been hers since she was a child.

“Why don’t we leave here and go under the hill?” Dru asked with a grin.

“Under the hill?” Rebecca wasn’t certain what he was talking about. “A cave?”

“It’s a part of town that used to be wide open. Sort of the French Quarter of Natchez,” he said, “like the older part of New Orleans. Back in the days when Natchez was a booming river town, all of the best bars and gambling dens were located ‘under the hill’ or down on the water. It was a rowdy place known for its lawlessness and danger.”

“Until you were elected sheriff?” she asked innocently.

“I’m not quite that old,” he said, pretending to be wounded. “But if I can use my cane, I think I can dance a few numbers with you.”

“I haven’t danced in…a long time,” Rebecca admitted. How long had it been? College? Surely not, but she couldn’t recall another time.

“You don’t forget,” he said. “I have a dirty little secret to tell you if you agree to go.”

“My, my, a lawman who bribes,” she said. “Okay, let’s go. You’ve got my curiosity working overtime.” It was true. Just the hint of a secret was enough to whet her appetite. Dru was only jesting, but it was very effective.

They drove down a street that seemed to drop almost to the water’s edge. As Dru parked the car, Rebecca could already hear the music and laughter coming from several restaurants and bars.

“Sounds young,” she said, a little nervously. She wasn’t thirty, yet she often felt much older.

“Not where we’re going. That’s my dirty secret. When I broke up with Celeste, I was so depressed the deputies got together and paid for some ballroom dancing lessons. I discovered that I liked it.”

“No!” Rebecca was shocked. Dru, in his cowboy boots and jeans didn’t look a whit like someone who would tango or rumba. But then, what, exactly, would someone who could do those things look like? “I don’t know how to do those dances,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I learned that the man’s job is to make the woman look good.”

They entered a restaurant and Dru led her down a flight of steps to a small bar where a woman in a sequined gown sang as a half dozen couples danced.

Before she could muster a protest, he pulled her into his arms and began waltzing her around the floor. “Relax,” he said. “Just relax, feel the music and let me lead.”

“Easier said than done,” she said, trying so hard to relax that she made herself stiff all over again. But in a few moments, she picked up the rhythm. When she did so, Dru began to move more freely around the dance floor with her. After one or two faltering steps, she adapted to his lead. In only a few moments, they were dancing like old partners.

“See, I told you it’s easy,” he said, putting her into a turn and bringing her back into his arms.

“Only because you make it easy,” she said, grinning widely. “This is great.”

Dru ordered drinks, and they sipped them in between dancing each number. Rebecca was shocked when she looked down at her watch and saw that it was after two in the morning. “I should go home,” she said a little breathlessly.

“Me, too,” Dru said reluctantly. “The night just got away from us.”

He was paying the tab when his cell phone rang. Frowning, he answered it, waving to Rebecca that he was going outside to talk. She should collect his change.

The expression on his face had her worried as she accepted the bills from the cashier and hurried up the steps and into the warm night.

“Ms. Barrett is with me,” Dru was saying. “I’ll escort her home and check it out. No, don’t worry about it. You did the right thing by calling.”

He put the phone away and turned to face her. “There’s been some trouble at Blackthorn,” he said. “I’ll take you there right away.”

DRU SAW the flashing lights of the ambulance and pulled up behind it. Beside him, Rebecca looked alabaster she was so pale. She didn’t even wait for the car to stop. She got out and ran to the back of the ambulance where two attendants were loading Joey Reynolds.

“Joey,” Rebecca said, grasping his hand. The young man was unconscious. “Joey!”

Dru put his hands on Rebecca’s shoulders and gently moved her out of the way of the paramedics as they prepared Joey for transport to the hospital.

“What happened?” Rebecca asked two officers who were standing nearby.

They looked at Dru, and he nodded.

“We got a call that Mr. Reynolds had fallen from the loft of the barn. It seems he may have been haying the horses when he tripped. I can’t guarantee it, ma’am, but he was breathing good and all. Once he regains consciousness, he’s probably going to be okay.”

Dru wanted to thank the man for his kindness. No one could guarantee Joey’s condition, but the deputy had seen enough accidents to be able to deduce a little something to set Rebecca’s mind at ease.

“Who called the ambulance?” she asked.

“I did.” Brett stepped into the circle of light thrown by the patrol car headlights.

“Thanks, Brett,” Rebecca said.

“Now maybe you’ll listen to me and get that…Joey off the property. He’s not responsible. He never should be allowed around those horses. Up in that barn fiddling around, nearly killing himself.”

“Mr. Gibson,” Dru stepped in. Now wasn’t the time to rant and rave about what should have been done. “How do you know Joey tripped and fell?”

“I don’t know for certain. Maybe Joey was trying to fly,” he said sarcastically. “Either he tripped or he jumped, officer. I was giving him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I should go to the hospital,” Rebecca said. “When he wakes up, I want him to see someone familiar.”

“I’ll drive you,” Dru offered.

“No, stay here and do what you can to find out what happened. I’ll take my own car.”

Dru didn’t like her pale complexion, but he knew it was pointless to argue with her. He’d known enough women in his day to realize that trying to stop one on a chosen path was about as effective as stepping in front of a train. “I’ll check with you as soon as I’m finished here,” he promised and watched her hurry off into the night.

With his two deputies, Dru began to look around the barn area. He found where Joey had fallen, and when he looked, it did appear as if perhaps Joey had stumbled and fallen from the loft into the center aisle of the barn. That raised several questions, one of which he asked Brett.

“What was Joey doing in the hayloft at two in the morning?” Dru didn’t mention that he’d known Joey all of his life. Joey was honest, hardworking and he slept the sleep of the innocent. He went to bed at ten and got up at dawn. He wasn’t inclined to wandering around in the dark.

“I don’t have a clue,” Brett said in a snappy tone.

The anthropologist had a sharp tongue and an acid disposition. If he’d ever been taught any manners at all, he’d forgotten them. “What were you doing wandering the premises at two in the morning?” Dru asked easily.

There was a pause as Brett considered the subtle implication that his early-morning wanderings might have some impact on Joey’s. “I heard something,” he said. “I was asleep in my tent and I heard someone rustling around in the bushes. I got up to see who it was. Then I heard this moaning sound and I went to investigate. Instead of questioning me, you should be thanking me. If I hadn’t stumbled on Joey, he’d have lain out there all night.”

Dru didn’t point out that it wasn’t his job to thank someone for acting like a civilized human. “Do you think maybe Joey heard something, too?”

Brett rolled his eyes. “Joey’s only interested in those damn horses and his plants. If the horses or plants were talking, he was probably out in the barn listening.”

“Thank you,” Dru said. He was tired and he had had just about as much of Brett Gibson as he could take. He spoke with the two deputies, and they began marking off the area. It looked like a simple accident, but where Blackthorn was concerned, Dru knew he couldn’t be too careful.

Rebecca had seen someone in the woods that very morning. It was possible someone was on the property with the intention of making trouble.

WHEN JOEY OPENED his eyes, he blinked and focused on Rebecca. “I knew you’d help me,” he said. “My head hurts.”

“I know,” Rebecca answered, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his hand. No matter that the doctors had assured her he was fine. Now, with his gentle blue eyes focused on her, she could believe it. “You scared me half to death, Joey. You’ve been asleep for nearly twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours?” he said, his forehead furrowing. “I’m sorry. I was scared.”

“What happened?” Rebecca eased back, giving him some space.

“I was in my apartment,” he said, “looking at some seed catalogues. I think snapdragons by the foundation of the house, don’t you?”

“Perfect. What happened?”

“I heard someone in the barn.”

The words chilled Rebecca so effectively that she had to remember to draw in a breath. “Who? Did you see anyone?”

Joey shook his head. “I slipped out of the apartment, hurried down the stairs, and then I thought I heard some one in the loft. So I went to the feed room and climbed the ladder there. I was afraid they’d try to hurt one of the horses, so I was really careful.”

There was only one ladder into the loft. If someone was up there and Joey went looking, he’d essentially trapped that person.

“Did you see anyone?” Rebecca asked again.

“No. Someone hit me on the head with something. I lost my balance and fell.”

Rebecca forced herself to take a deep breath. The worst thing she could do would be to frighten Joey with her own panic. “Are you sure someone hit you?” she asked gently.

Joey nodded. “Feel.” He reached for her hand and put it on a big knot on the side of his head. “There.”

“Joey, do you know who did this?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t see who it was.”

“Did you notice anything else?”

“There was a red can in the loft. It looked like the can that goes with the tractor.”

“Diesel?” Rebecca couldn’t hide her fear any longer. Was it possible someone intended to set the barn on fire and that by some fluke Joey had prevented it?

“Yeah, the diesel for the tractor. It looked like that can, but it shouldn’t have been in the barn. It belongs in the equipment shed.”

“That’s right,” Rebecca said, eager to get to the court house and check with Dru to see what he’d found.

“Did I do the right thing?” Joey asked, a frown on his face. “I don’t want to disappoint Aurelia and Marcus. They said I should watch out for the horses and all the animals at Blackthorn.”

“You did exactly right,” Rebecca reassured him, squeezing his hand. “You did perfect, Joey. Now I’m going in to talk with the sheriff. Will you be okay?”

He nodded. “Can I go home soon?”

“As soon as they release you,” Rebecca said. “I’ll be back for you.”

Before she was at the door he had closed his eyes and had drifted into sleep. She watched from the doorway for a moment, wondering just how lucky he’d been to escape with his life.

WHEN SHE ARRIVED at the courthouse, she wasn’t surprised to see that Dru was in his office. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but the courthouse was emptying out. She walked into the sheriff’s office and saw Drew, backlit by a large window in his private office.

“How’s Joey?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her.

“He’s going to be okay. He said someone hit him.”

Dru stood up and walked around, assisting Rebecca into a chair. “I wish I had better news. We found a piece of lumber with blood and hair on it that I’m positive will be Joey’s. Someone struck him with that lumber.”

“And deliberately knocked him out of the loft? They could easily have killed him.”

“I can’t speak to their intention, but they surely meant to knock him out.”

“Joey said there was a can of diesel in the loft.”

Dru’s eyebrows shot up. “We searched the loft but we didn’t find any diesel fuel.”

“Maybe Joey frightened them away.”

“If he did, he’s a very lucky man to be alive. And so are those horses.”

“What’s going on, Dru?” Rebecca asked, trying hard not to let her voice tremble.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

CHAPTER THREE

BRETT AND THE rest of the crew were drinking the last of the iced tea from their lunch break when Rebecca got back to Blackthorn.

“How is Joey?” Brett asked, and there was an odd tone in his voice.

Rebecca felt a sudden chill. Brett hated Joey, but surely not enough to try and injure him.

“He’s going to be okay. He’s very lucky. The fall from the barn could have killed him.”

“I know you think I’m a hard man,” Brett said, “but Joey shouldn’t be out here. This is a dangerous place and he’s going to get hurt.”

Rebecca locked her gaze with Brett’s and spoke softly. “Joey didn’t trip and fall. Someone hit him with a board and tried to kill him.”

Brett’s face drew into a frown. “That’s nuts. Who would want to hurt the simpleton?”

“That’s a good question,” Rebecca said. “And I’m sure Sheriff Colson will find the answer to it.”

“Who would want to hurt Joey?” Brett repeated almost as if he were talking to himself.

“Don’t repeat that information to the rest of the crew,” Rebecca cautioned him.

“Because you’re afraid they’ll quit?”

“Because one of them may have done it,” Rebecca said, once again watching Brett for any sign of guilt.

“I’ve worked with these men on two other digs.” Brett was having no difficulty working himself into indignation. “They have no reason to injure Joey.”

It was interesting that Brett defended his men. Rebecca took it as a good sign. “Nonetheless, it’s best if they don’t know that Joey was attacked. The construction workers are also going to be questioned. If someone on the estate is guilty, it’ll be easier to find out who it is if they don’t think we’re suspicious.”

“Except it puts my workers in some jeopardy,” Brett pointed out. “They have a right to know that someone is on the loose at Blackthorn, whacking people in the head.”

Rebecca felt her throat close. She hadn’t said that Joey was hit in the head. “Brett, don’t argue with me. Just do what I tell you. In the end, I’m the one responsible, not you.” She walked away, hoping that her little act of bravado had covered her intense concern about Brett and his involvement with what had happened to Joey. As soon as she got a chance to talk to Dru, she’d repeat the entire conversation.

Although she was tired, she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest. She went up to the shell of the house. Progress was being made, but it seemed slow to her.

The contractor had built a makeshift staircase to the upper floor, and though she’d given strict orders to all but the carpenters not to venture to the upper levels, she climbed up herself.

The vista was incredible. The house Aurelia and Marcus were building wasn’t huge—at least not like the former plantation that had stood on Blackthorn. But it was an imposing structure that seemed to rise from the high bluff overlooking the river. The exterior walls would be made of cement blocks poured in specially designed molds to give the appearance of limestone. Once finished, the house would be indestructible. Those inside the walls of Blackthorn House would have the most spectacular view of the Mississippi in the whole area.

Leaning against a four-by-four support, Rebecca gazed down at the early sunlight on the “father of waters,” as the Indians had called the Mississippi.

Movement at the base of the cliff caught her eye. Probably a deer. She leaned out, trying to get a good look. She caught only a glimpse, but something about what she saw troubled her. There was too much white for a deer. The animal she saw moved in a jerky fashion, not with the smooth, bounding grace of a whitetail.

The man burst out of a clump of shrubs and darted into another. He was almost at the river, and when he got there, he looked in both directions before dragging a small boat out of the bush and jumping into it. In a matter of moments, he was swirling away in the current.

“Damn!” Rebecca watched as he disappeared in the tree-covered lee of the river. She left the window and hurried back to the caretaker’s cottage. It was too late to catch whoever was on Blackthorn property illegally, but maybe they’d left some clues behind.

DRU WAS pleasantly surprised when the telephone rang on his desk at three forty-five and he heard Rebecca’s breathless voice. He’d just been thinking of her. But when she reported what she’d seen, he told her to hold on, he was on the way.

The two deputies who’d worked the assault on Joey were off duty, so Dru called two others to work the physical evidence at the riverbank, if there was any.

He didn’t wait for them to get their gear. He got in his car and drove straight to Blackthorn. Rebecca looked both excited and tired, and he had to stop himself from the impulse to put his arms around her.

“It was directly below the house,” she said, starting toward the river.

Dru didn’t have to wait long for his men. They pulled up and began to ease down the steep bluff that overlooked the powerful river.

“Should we go with them?” Rebecca asked.

Dru shook his head. “The best thing we can do is stay out of their way. If they find something, they’ll let me know.”

“I can’t help but wonder who’s trespassing so freely on Blackthorn,” Rebecca said. “I saw him. He’s slender with sandy-brown hair. And he seems to know his way around here fairly well.”

“I talked to Joey,” Dru said. “He just didn’t see anyone. He’s eager to come home, though.”

Rebecca rubbed her right eyebrow with her finger. “Brett says it isn’t safe for Joey here. He says Joey’s going to get hurt.” She met Dru’s gaze. “And that it would be my fault if I allowed him to stay in a dangerous place.”

Dru shook his head lightly. “Joey’s a grown man, Rebecca. He’s a little slow, but he knows Blackthorn better than anyone else. He’s as safe here as anywhere else.”

“What about last night?”

“The person who struck Joey wasn’t lying in wait for him. Joey interrupted something. And in all likelihood saved the lives of those three horses.”

Rebecca couldn’t deny that. “I just don’t want him hurt. He’s such a kind man….”

“And one who knows how to keep his eyes open now that he’s aware of danger.”

Rebecca’s smile was like the sun slipping out from behind a cloud. “You make me feel better, you know.”

“You don’t deserve to feel bad,” he said simply.

“I wonder what’s going on here?” Rebecca said. “The treasure has been found. There’s no reason for anyone else to be slipping through the woods, causing trouble.”

“But someone is—or at least someone is slipping through the woods,” Dru pointed out, wondering himself if there were two separate incidents—the attack on Joey and some kids trespassing on Blackthorn for a thrill. He wasn’t so certain the “trespasser” was harmless.

The two deputies came up from the bluff. “We got a cast of a footprint,” one said, “but that’s about it. A male. About a size 11, worn running shoes. It’s distinctive if we can find the shoe. There’s a small place on the bank where someone’s been tying up a boat. It’s been used more than once.”

Dru nodded. “Good work.”

“Can you recommend a good security agency?” Rebecca asked. “I’ll hire a watchman to guard that landing.”

One thing Dru liked about Rebecca was her ability to land on her feet. When something happened, she figured out a way to fix it. But he wasn’t ready yet to post a guard.

“If we’re lucky, the intruder isn’t aware that he’s been seen. He didn’t see you in the scaffolding, did he?”

Rebecca shook her head, her expression showing curiosity about where he was going.

“Then he may believe he hasn’t been discovered at the landing. If that’s true, he’ll come back.”

“Which is exactly why I want someone down there to stop him.”

“But it may be our best opportunity to catch him,” Dru said with a grin. “If we’re waiting for him up here.”

He saw the two deputies look at each other. The glance was covert, and in an instant they were impassive again. Rebecca obviously saw it too.

“I doubt the Adams County Sheriff’s Department will stake out my property to prevent a trespasser,” she said.

“I couldn’t assign one of my men,” Dru agreed. “But I could stay myself. I think a night watch will be sufficient.”

He saw the unexpected rush of gratitude on Rebecca’s face and realized she would never have asked for special favors. That was another thing he liked about her. She didn’t assume anything.

“I’d rather catch him than scare him off,” Rebecca admitted. “I’m afraid if he gets scared off the river, he’ll just come in from the road.”

“I suspect you’re right about that,” Dru agreed, meeting his deputies’ amused glances.

“I’ll volunteer to help, too,” one of the deputies said with a wicked grin at Dru. “Me, too,” the other chimed in.

“All I can say is that the Adams County law enforcement is the most accommodating I’ve ever heard about,” Rebecca said. “Perhaps I could offer you gentlemen some coffee and breakfast?”

“If you’re sure it’s no bother,” Dru said, shaking his head in amusement at his two officers.

As he and Rebecca led the way to the cottage, he glanced back toward the river. Who was on Blackthorn property and what were they doing there? With the recovery of the treasure and Marcus’s confession that he’d been playing the role of Andre Agee, the mysterious horseman, to thwart development of the property, Dru had hoped that all of the rumors and odd events at Blackthorn would stop. Now it looked as if he’d been more than a tiny bit optimistic.

REBECCA SLIPPED into her riding breeches with a sigh of guilty anticipation. She’d brought Joey home from the hospital with a knot the size of a goose egg on his head, but the doctor had assured her he was perfectly fine. She’d left him sitting in the shade of a big pecan, watching over his garden.

She’d talked to the contractor, Eugene Batson, about the wiring, repeating all of the things Marcus had written on a list for her. One thing she’d learned from this experience was that she never wanted to build a house. The details were endless, and there were times she simply had to guess what Marcus and Aurelia would want. Perhaps the experience would be more enjoyable if she weren’t serving as absentee owner. Then again, how many people got to participate in the construction of what was going to be one of the most architecturally innovative houses ever built. She grinned as she laced her paddock boots.

For the time being, though, she could simply put all of that aside for an hour and enjoy a ride on Cogar.

Joey was drawing another diagram of a garden in the dirt, but he promised her he wouldn’t get hot working. She winked at him as she went on to the barn and saddled the big gray. Cogar was so tall, she almost needed a mounting block to get on. Almost.

When she was in the saddle, he moved out willingly, as eager for the ride as she was. As soon as she was in the woods, she let her troubles slip away. They walked until he was warm, moved into a trot, then eased into a ground-covering gallop. Her mind slipped to fantasy.

As a young girl, she’d often fantasized about Robin Hood and Sherwood Forest. That’s what the woods around Blackthorn reminded her of. At any moment the band of merry robbers could step out of the woods.

She smiled at a childhood memory: she’d been torn between wanting to be Robin—or Maid Marian. Robin seemed to have the most fun, but Marian was certainly beautiful. Those thoughts led her to Dru. He was a handsome man with a casual grace and easy confidence that she found delightful. Since he was so secure in who he was, she didn’t feel any pressure from him to change who she was. Of course, they were just getting to know each other. In the beginning, Mike had been easygoing, too. It was only toward the end that he began to act as though her hopes and dreams didn’t matter. What he wanted was the only important thing.

As if her thoughts precipitated it, a dark cloud covered the sun, casting the woods in shadow. Cogar had slowed to a walk, and Rebecca felt a little foolish as chill bumps danced over her arms.

Cogar’s head lifted, his ears pricked forward. Then she heard it. The sound of a baby crying. It was the eeriest thing she’d ever heard, rising and falling in desperate bursts from somewhere in the woods. Everything that Aurelia had told her came back to her.

Yvonne Harris and Randall Levert had been playing tape recordings of a crying baby in the woods of Blackthorn in an attempt to frighten Aurelia off the estate. And then Yvonne had taken it several steps further. She’d murdered Randall’s mother, Lottie, and tried to pin the murder on Aurelia by planting evidence. She’d also betrayed her co-conspirator by planting evidence against him, too. She’d intended to get both Aurelia and Randall out of the way.

Fortunately, Yvonne’s plans had been foiled. Aurelia, though charged, had been found innocent of Lottie Levert’s murder. Yvonne had been found guilty of Lottie’s death and was in the state penitentiary.

Randall, shocked that his partner in crime had murdered his own mother in an attempt to frame him, had turned state’s evidence against Yvonne. He, too, was serving time.

So why was a baby crying in the woods at Blackthorn, in some eerie repetition of past events?

Cogar stepped forward, as if he wanted to go into the woods. Rebecca reined him in. She sat and listened, the sound of the baby almost breaking her heart. But she wasn’t going into the woods. There were trespassers on Blackthorn and she was smart enough not to walk into a trap. If someone was playing tricks on her, she wouldn’t fall for them. Instead, she’d go straight back to the cottage and call Dru.

She had no belief that the baby crying in the woods was real. Therefore she didn’t feel it necessary to try and find it. Nudging Cogar into a trot, she headed back to the cottage and a telephone.

DRU FROWNED as he hung up the receiver. It wasn’t what he called justice, but then, he’d learned that when a witness cut a deal, lots of things were possible. He stared at the notes he’d made on a pad.

Randall Levert had been released from prison two days before based on the deal he’d cut with the prosecutor in testifying against Yvonne.

Dru wasn’t happy with that information, but he knew that Randall hadn’t been involved in his mother’s murder. What he’d done was attempt to frighten Aurelia into selling Blackthorn. And he’d used poor judgment in teaming up with Yvonne Harris.

And it would seem that he was using poor judgment once again. Dru stood up. He had no doubt that the sudden “intruder” at Blackthorn was none other than Randall Levert. But why Randall would risk losing his probation was what troubled Dru. He was either stupid or crazy, and both of those mindsets could be very dangerous under the right circumstances.

Dru drove out to Blackthorn and caught sight of Rebecca trotting out of the woods on a huge gray horse. The sight was breathtaking. He’d never been overly interested in horses, but the sight of Rebecca astride the gray made the sport seem infinitely more fascinating.

The expression on her face, though, told another story. He was out of the patrol car and at her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a baby crying in the woods,” she said, her voice trembling.

Dru realized she was more unnerved than she wanted him to know. His hand went to her knee in a gesture of comfort. “That stands to reason. They released Randall Levert on probation two days ago,” he said, “just about the time someone started trespassing on Blackthorn property. What surprises me is that he’s stupid enough to try the same stunt twice in a row.”

“Why is he doing this?” Rebecca asked, and Dru was relieved to hear anxiety beginning to turn to anger.

“That’s a good question. He’s risking real jail time for this stunt.”

“You’re positive the person doing this is Randall Levert?”

Dru considered the question. His gut told him it was Randall, but there wasn’t any evidence. “Fairly certain, but that doesn’t mean I’ll rule out other possibilities. What I am going to do is pick Randall up for questioning. If this is his idea of revenge, I’ll make him understand he’s playing a foolish game with severe consequences.”

“I’m sorry this thing has just…exploded,” Rebecca said. “First the man in the woods, then Joey, then the boat thing, and now the baby is back. I feel responsible for this in some way.” She started to swing from the saddle.

Dru found his hands around her waist steadying her as she dropped to the ground. He half expected her to step away from him. Instead, she turned so that she was in the circle of his arms. Her blue eyes held his, and he let his hands remain on her waist.

“You have nothing to do with Randall and whatever sick plan he’s hatched,” Dru said, his gaze slipping to her mouth. It was full and looked soft. He imagined what it would feel like to kiss her. He wanted to. He watched her swallow and realized that she, too, was thinking of a kiss.

“Will you really come by tonight?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’d feel better if I kept an eye on things.”

“I’ll make dinner for you,” she said. “I’m a pretty good cook.”

“A woman with endless talents,” he said, knowing that the moment for the kiss had passed. But there would be other opportunities in the coming night, when he wasn’t on duty and when Brett Gibson and the Batson girl weren’t standing at the edge of the clearing watching them.

CHAPTER FOUR

REBECCA BASTED the turkey breast for the last time and turned the oven off. She’d made a light salad and bought some fresh pears and blueberries. It was only May, but it was summertime in Natchez, far too hot for a heavy meal.

She checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror one more time, a little amused at herself for the mascara and lipstick she’d applied. Working out-of-doors, she normally didn’t wear makeup. But there was something about Dru Colson that reminded her all too much of her femininity. Rebecca had tried on several outfits before she settled on one—atypical behavior yet again. She was getting into her “courting finery,” as her Aunt Mildred would have said.

That, in and of itself, was a minor miracle. After her breakup with Mike, she’d never expected to find herself in a position of wanting to attract a man. She didn’t dress to repel men, she just didn’t think about it. But Dru Colson was different. He made her think about her appearance and his reaction to her. Surprisingly, it was nice to wonder what effect a sleeveless, sexy blouse would have on a man. Somehow, Dru made it seem so natural.

He was different from other men she’d known. Or so he seemed, she reminded herself. She hardly knew him. She didn’t want to find herself out of the frying pan and into the fire. She was going to take things slowly.

She heard the sound of his car and felt her heart stutter. She ordered herself to take deep breaths, to go slow. Her heartbeat was accelerating and she could feel anticipation in every inch of her body. So much for speed limits. But when she opened the door of Joey’s apartment to his knock, she was in perfect control.

“I drove around the perimeter of the property and everything seemed okay.” His eyes crinkled into a smile as his gaze swept down her body, leaving a burning tingle behind. “You look lovely. And something smells wonderful.”

“Thanks.” Desire swept through her. “You look very handsome yourself.” And he did, with his dark hair combed back and his clean-shaven, chiseled jaw so lean and tanned. There was no denying it. Dru was a well-built man. What her Aunt Mildred would call a Tilt-a-Whirl, so named after the dizzying amusement park ride.

“Joey should be here soon,” Rebecca said. “He was delighted to let me use the new oven. I think even Joey gets tired of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

“I do,” Joey said, coming in the door with a grin. His head was still bandaged, but he had a great appetite and said he felt fine.

“I checked the horses,” he said, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I think we should let them out in the pasture and not keep them in the barn tonight.”

Rebecca knew Joey was afraid someone would try to burn the barn again. “I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “We’ll turn Cogar and Mariah out in the pasture right beside the barn and Diable in his paddock. You can hear them all night long.”

“That does sound like a good plan,” Dru agreed. “Joey, have you thought any more about who hit you?”

He nodded. “But I didn’t see him. I’ve tried and tried to remember, but he was hiding and then he hit me and I fell.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dru reassured Joey as he glanced at Rebecca.

She nodded slightly. Both she and Dru had agreed that Joey needed to know that Randall Levert was out of jail on probation. She stood beside Joey’s chair as Dru told him.

“He’ll come back here,” Joey said, and he turned to look up at Rebecca with worry in his eyes. “He’s a mean man. Why did they let him out of jail? He wants to hurt me and he’ll hurt you, too.”

“Randall Levert won’t be bothering anyone if he has a lick of sense. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow,” Dru said. “I can’t guarantee that he won’t come here, but I can make him understand that he’ll be in serious trouble if he does.”

“He was so mad,” Joey said, his voice tight with worry. “He wanted everyone to think Aurelia had killed his mother. Then when it was Yvonne, he was even madder.”

“I know,” Rebecca said, putting a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “But we’re all here together. Remember, Brett and his crew are camping by the burial mound. I’m here and Dru is going to stay around. Randall won’t come here. There are too many people on the property now.”

“I hope not.” Joey didn’t sound reassured. “He’s mean.”

“Joey, I want you to keep your eyes and ears open,” Dru said. “If you see anything funny, you call me, okay?”

“Aurelia and Marcus gave me a cell phone,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket. “So I can call for help any time I need it.”

Dru examined the phone that Joey held out to him. “That’s a great idea. So you call if you see or hear anything, okay? You can help me protect Rebecca.”

“And the horses,” Joey said.

“And the horses,” Rebecca agreed.

She put the food on the table and they ate, chatting about Joey’s garden and how Brett and his crew had unearthed an intact vessel that contained what appeared to be even more valuable artifacts. The fact that the earthen vessel was still unbroken after so many years was a minor miracle in itself.

“John Ittawasa is coming tomorrow,” Rebecca said. “I called him and reported the find, just as Aurelia promised we would do. I’m afraid it’s going to be another battle with Brett.” She sighed. “John wants to take the artifacts back to Philadelphia, Mississippi, and have them documented at the Choctaw Indian Reservation. Brett wants to keep them here so he can study them and perhaps do an exhibit at a later date. I see both points of view.”

“If John documents them, perhaps he’ll allow Brett to use them later, when he has a more complete collection,” Dru said.

“Oh, that voice of reason just isn’t heard in the heat of the argument. Believe me, I’ve tried to reason with Brett. He’s totally in a snit.”

“Who has the final say?” Dru asked.

Rebecca looked into his eyes. “I do.”

“What are you going to do?” Dru asked.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“May I offer some advice?” Dru asked.

“I’d love it, though I can’t promise to take it.” She would be glad to hear advice from an unbiased party, especially one as level-headed as Dru.

“I wouldn’t keep the artifacts on Blackthorn property no matter who ultimately has control of them. You’ve been having trouble. It would be a crying shame if someone came in and destroyed these artifacts in some act of vengeance or revenge.”

Rebecca took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dru. That’s the best reasoning I’ve heard. You make perfect sense, and I’ll make sure the artifacts are put somewhere safe. Like a bank vault or something, first thing in the morning.”

“How valuable are these things?” Dru asked.

“Depends on who you ask. So little is known about the Mound Builders that this may be the definitive site. They lived along the Mississippi River, and there were more burial mounds until the river broke the levee in 1927 and flooded most of the delta. A lot of history, both Native American and early settler, was lost then. If this is the most preserved site, then the artifacts are quite valuable from a historical perspective.”

“What about jewels and gold and things like that?”

“Not really a part of the Mound Builders’ interest. The Aztecs and Toltecs in South America actually made gold jewelry and adorned themselves with silver and gold. Around here there weren’t a lot of precious metals or jewels.”

“So what’s the monetary value of this site?”

“I’m not sure that’s easy to explain. Most people think only of jewels and precious metals when it comes to tombs. The pyramids in Egypt were filled with material wealth. This site is different. Brett has schooled me well,” she said, giving an apologetic grin. “This site is about information, history, preservation of a site sacred to Native American Indians. And,” she got a teasing look in her eyes, “Brett says there’s some indication that Ponce de Leon had begun to believe that the fountain of youth was somewhere along the great Mississippi River.”

“Ah, the old fountain-of-youth lure.”

“Now to find evidence of that would be valuable information. Monetarily valuable information.”

“Even more valuable would be to find the fountain of youth,” Dru teased. “Can you imagine? You could charge five dollars an ounce and become a gazillionaire overnight.”

“Not me. Aurelia and Marcus,” Rebecca reminded him. “I’m just the hired help and I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with Brett about that artifact.”

Joey touched Rebecca’s arm. “Brett said it was wrong to give the old bowl to the Indian,” Joey said. “He said he wasn’t going to do it.”

Rebecca felt a flush touch her cheeks. Brett talked big, but when it came time to yield up the artifacts, he would do so. He was a troublemaker, but he wasn’t an idiot. Still, she didn’t like the fact that he made her look foolish in front of people. He constantly challenged her authority and her decisions.

“I wouldn’t put a lot of stock in what Brett says,” Rebecca said easily. “All talk, no action.”

She cleared the table and then served the orange sherbet she’d bought.

“Cool,” Joey said, grinning. “Maybe I could grow some oranges.”

“Maybe,” she said because she didn’t know if he could or not. The Natchez winters could get pretty cold.

“Strawberries might be better,” Dru suggested.

“Yeah, strawberries.” Joey stood up, his bowl empty. “I’m going to draw out some beds for strawberries. I know just where to put them.”

He hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Dru and Rebecca alone. Together they cleaned up, working as a team as though they’d been doing it for years.

“Shall I walk you home?” Dru asked once they’d finished. His question sounded as if he was about fourteen years old.

“Only if you carry my books,” Rebecca replied.

Chuckling softly, they left the apartment and started walking down the drive to the old caretaker’s cottage. Rebecca was hyperaware of Dru. Though he didn’t touch her, she felt electric.

The night was magnificent. Pale moonlight filtered through the old oaks draped with Spanish moss. There was a soft murmur, which Rebecca took to be the river. Around them the night had fallen silent, peaceful, serene.

They were almost at the caretaker’s cottage, both still silent, when the sound of a crying baby seemed to come from nowhere—and everywhere.

“Go inside,” Dru said softly, indicating the caretaker’s cottage. “Lock the door, Rebecca.”

“But—”

“No buts. Someone’s out here.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said, suddenly aware of the gun that had materialized in his hand.

“No, stay inside and lock the door. Don’t come out.”

He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. She slipped away from his side, over the porch and into the cottage. She knew enough not to flip on the light as she watched Dru disappear into the shadows of the trees, a shadow himself, but one moving fast and holding a deadly weapon.

MORE THAN DANGER, Dru felt total aggravation. He had no doubt that Randall Levert was behind all of this. Randall. A total idiot. The man had skated out of prison because of his willingness to rat out his partner. Now that he’d gained his freedom, he should be smart enough to stay away from Blackthorn and his foolish pranks.

Dru slipped into the woods. It was almost impossible to tell what direction the crying was coming from. Sound echoed and reverberated against the huge old trees. Pausing to listen, he thought he heard someone running fast through the underbrush.

He gave chase, ignoring the tiny limbs that whipped against his arms and face. He kept his attention focused solely on the sounds of the running person.

He thought he’d lost the runner, but then he heard a twig snap to his right. The intruder was much closer than Dru had thought. He bolted right just as someone ran out from beneath a huge wild magnolia. The bright moonlight came through a hole in the canopy of tree limbs, illuminating the runner’s pale shirt.

“Police!” Dru called. “Halt! Police! Stop, or I’ll shoot.”

Damn! The guy took off sprinting again.

Dru turned on the speed, his own body skimming over the fallen limbs and trees and tangle of briars. He’d been a long-distance track runner in high school, and he’d kept up his running habits as part of his regimen. Although the woods were an aggravation, he could see that he was gaining on the man.

“Halt!” he called again. “I’m going to shoot.”

When the man gave no indication of slacking his pace, Dru shot. There was an explosion of bark just above the runner’s head and the man came to a screeching halt. By the time Dru got to him, he was standing with his hands over his head, his chest heaving.

The crying of the baby had ceased.

“You’re under arrest for trespassing, among other things,” Dru said as he walked up and patted the man down.

“I’m not trespassing,” the man said. “Who the hell are you?”

“Sheriff Dru Colson, and you’re under arrest. These woods are private property. They’re also not the place for foolish practical jokes involving crying babies.”

“I know, man, that nearly freaked me out. But I’m not trespassing. I work for Brett Gibson. I’m his dig coordinator.”

Dru frowned and stepped back. “You’re what?”

“The dig coordinator. At a dig, a lot of different sites get going sometimes. Someone has to coordinate all the levels, mark all the artifacts that are dug up and generally make sure the different strata of the dig are marked and examined. You know, it’s happened before that someone planted valuable artifacts in a mound, hoping to claim some kind of government benefit. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Dru hesitated. The man sounded as if he knew what he was talking about. But it didn’t make sense that he’d run. “Why did you run?”

“Man, I thought you were the dude who’s been sneaking around. I was trying to get ahead so I could ambush you and tackle you, but you were too fast.”

“What’s your name?”

“Winston West. Folks call me Double-U. Uh, can I put my hands down now? I’ve got identification in my pocket.”

“I can’t see it here anyway,” Dru said, motioning him to put his hands down. “We’ll go back to camp and see if Brett will vouch for you.”

“Good idea, man. I was afraid you were gonna plug me full of holes.”

Dru cast a glance back through the woods. He’d caught the man he was chasing, but it didn’t seem to be the right man. Dru had the distinct sense that someone was watching him. Watching and waiting for an opportunity to do something bad. Something that would certainly harm Rebecca.

“Did you see anyone else in the woods?” Dru asked.

“No. I just came over here to, you know, relieve myself. We’d been drinking a few beers. Anyway, I heard that baby. I almost jumped out of my pants. So I started running towards the sound, thinking it was a real baby. Then I got to thinking a real baby would be exhausted and stop crying, even for a few breaths. So then I decided to try to find whatever was playing the sound. That’s when I heard you and I thought you might be the guy responsible. Like I said, I meant to run ahead of you and find a place to set up an ambush but you were too fast for me.”

“This story had better check out,” Dru warned him.

“Hey, man, I’m cool. Ask Brett.”

Dru did just that, and Brett confirmed everything Winston West had said.

“There’ve been a series of accidents around Blackthorn,” Dru said loudly enough for Brett and those of his assistants who were around to hear. “My suggestion to all of you is that once night falls, stay in the campsite. Stay where other members of your party can see you. If you need an alibi, then you’ll have one.”

“An alibi for what?” Brett asked. “What are you implying about me and my men?”

“Not a thing,” Dru said softly. “I’m just giving you a tip, Gibson. Take it or leave it, I don’t care.”

“You should be chasing down whoever started that crying-baby noise,” Brett said irritably. “Instead, you’re courting Rebecca and harassing my workmen.”

Dru didn’t miss the fact that Brett, despite the way he spoke to Rebecca, seemed jealous of anyone else’s attention to her. Well, stranger things had happened.

“Where is the artifact you dug up today?” Dru asked.

“Has she told everyone? Ms. Barrett would do well to learn to keep her mouth shut.”

Dru felt a flash of anger. Brett was an egotist and an ass. Dru took a deep breath and forced the anger out of his voice. “Where is the artifact?”

“In a very safe place,” Brett said.

“Where?”

“In my tent,” Brett said finally and with great reluctance. “No one goes in my tent.”

“May I see it?” Dru asked, knowing that he’d get an argument. Brett was just that kind of man.

“You have no need to see it. It won’t mean a thing to someone uneducated in—”

“Show it to me,” Dru said levelly.

“If you insist!” Brett led the way to his tent. He went inside and in a moment, there was the sound of an exclamation. “No!” he cried, coming out of the tent in a rush. “It’s gone.”

“Gone?” Dru asked, his gaze narrowing on Brett’s shocked expression. He didn’t trust Brett as far as he could throw him. It occurred to him that the entire crying-baby thing could simply have been a diversion for Brett to steal the artifact so he didn’t have to give it to John Ittawasa.

“It’s gone!” Brett snapped. “Do something. You’re the law around here. Do your job. Take some prints. Find out who stole that vessel.”

“It’s going to be a long night,” Dru said, starting to walk away. “Don’t go in that tent and don’t let anyone else near it.”

“What are you going to do? Where are you going?” Brett demanded.

“To call for backup and to check on Rebecca.” He picked up his pace. He suddenly had a very bad feeling that he shouldn’t have left her.

CHAPTER FIVE

REBECCA LISTENED to the sound of the wailing baby and wanted to cover her ears. It was far worse in reality than it had been in her imagination when Aurelia had told her about it. Even though Rebecca knew it wasn’t a real baby but some type of recording, it didn’t stop the haunting sadness of the sound.

Why would Randall Levert be such an idiot that he would return to Blackthorn and try to play the crying-baby scam again? The obvious answer was that Randall had gone over the deep end. His mother had been murdered on Blackthorn property by his own partner, a Realtor named Yvonne Harris. Where Yvonne had been sentenced to prison for murder, Randall had turned state’s evidence against her and had gotten himself a deal from the prosecutor. His involvement in the crime had been minimal—trying to frighten Aurelia away from Blackthorn. Randall was as much a victim of Yvonne as Aurelia had been. Maybe even more since he’d lost his mother to Yvonne’s greed.

All of that said, it made Randall’s determination to scuttle around Blackthorn even more creepy. He was unbalanced, and in a way that boded only ill for her and her project. But Dru would handle it. She thanked her lucky stars for the lawman, realizing that the baby’s cries had ceased.

For a moment her thoughts slipped to Dru Colson. He was almost the antithesis of what she’d come to imagine a Mississippi sheriff might be. Of course, she did have an active imagination! But Dru was calm and deliberate. Handsome in a lean, athletic way. He was a man who’d taken up the badge not because he wanted the power but because he’d been asked. And asked again. He was young to bear the load of responsibility he shouldered, but he seemed born to it.

That was an interesting phrase. Born to it. Funny, but when she’d first met Aurelia Agee, she’d instantly known that Aurelia had been born to be heiress of Blackthorn. After five minutes of conversation with Aurelia and Marcus, Rebecca had been able to hook on to their vision and dream of what Blackthorn was in the past and what it could be in the future.

Aurelia had been able to convey that vision to Eugene Batson and his brother Roy, and together they’d come up with a house plan that was going to dazzle the architectural world. It was a heady time for Rebecca, spoiled only by some nutcase running through the woods with a taped recording of a crying baby. It would be funny if only someone hadn’t attacked Joey and injured him. Concern for Joey made her start toward the door.

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