keep your nice nest egg hid. But thatâs mesa gold, and it belongs to anyone that finds it. Thatâs exactly what Iâm fixing to do.â
Kit took an angry breath. The rumors of buried treasure had begun when she was a girl, fed by the tales of an old, lonely man desperate to feel important before he died. When her parents had come into extra money after the death of Kitâs maiden aunt, theyâd bought a badly needed truck and built an addition to the kennels, adding fuel to the flames of local suspicion. Unfortunately, more than a few people still believed Bones Whittakerâs crazy story.
When Kitâs brother was at home, no one came sniffing around, but Trace had been gone for over a year now, and this was the second set of trespassers in the last month.
Kit felt a sharp tension at her neck. She glanced up and saw something move up on the ridge. A coyote?
Emmett continued to watch her, frowning when Baby barked inside the courtyard. âThat your dog?â
âYes, it is. And sheââ
A callused hand shot around her shoulders from behind. âGot her, Emmett. What do we do now?â
A third man. She should have realized Emmett had an ace in the hole.
Kit dropped her revolver into the pocket of her baggy sweatpants, out of sight. Unable to break free, she pivoted and drove her boot heel down against her captorâs instep.
She fought to stay calm, to wait for her moment.
A second arm locked at her waist.
She caught the smell of aftershave and old sweat as she tried to jam her elbow into his solar plexus, but he was fast, constantly twisting out of range.
âGet her gun.â Emmettâs voice was strained. âDamn it, Harry, do I have to do everything?â
Her captor slammed her forward and pinned her against the courtyard wall, driving her cheek into the rough stucco.
She blinked back tears, refusing to show weakness or pain to these lowlifes. âMy brother will kill you for this.â
âBut your brotherâs not here, is he? Maybe he wonât be coming back.â
Kit kicked viciously, felt her boot strike bone.
âBen, whereâs her gun? You see her drop it?â
âI donât see no gun here, Emmett.â
Low growling drifted over the wall. âItâs those dogs of hers again.â Ben sounded frightened. âYou said they wouldnât be here, Emmett.â
A mass of dark fur and angry feet shot over the courtyard wall. Missiling down, Baby struck Emmettâs shoulders. Moments later two other furry shapes crossed the wall. One rammed the back of Benâs legs, knocking him to the ground, and the third landed in front of Kit, teeth bared and menacing.
Then she was free, her revolver trained on the intruders who were circled by her snarling seventy-pound puppies. The dogs had waited for their moment to strike, working together.
âGet moving, you three. And spread the word that the next man who comes up here will be dodging my bullets.â She sighted down the length of her revolver, glaring at Emmett, who was clearly the instigator of this harebrained operation. âBut first take off your shoes. Do it now. All of you.â
Three sets of eyes measured Kit, then cut back to the snarling dogs.
âDo what she says, Emmett. Never knew a woman could handle a gun worth shit. Sheâll kill all of us in a second.â Ben pulled off his boots and tossed them to the ground. âCan I go now?â
Kit waved her hand and the man immediately took off over the dirt. âWhat are you waiting for?â she snapped at the other two.
âDogs donât scare me.â Emmett crossed his beefy arms. âEspecially puppies.â
Baby bared her teeth while Butch and Sundance, Kitâs other dogs, moved into a tight line next to Baby, the three ranged together as one unit.
Kit stared coldly at Emmett. âThey could break your arm in a few seconds. Probably chew up your face pretty bad,