Her brow rose. “For what?”
“Time to be honest with one another. I love you, Meredith MacCarthy, and more than anything, I wish to share my life with you.”
Her eyes filled, and she feared her heart would beat right out of her chest. “I love you too, Daniel.”
In an instant, he was at her side, lifting her into his arms. “Shall we go back to bed and celebrate?”
Nodding was all she could manage.
He put her down and led her upstairs, where he enacted his fantasy from earlier, even though she wasn’t draped over the kitchen table.
Hours later, drowsy, sated, but unable to sleep, Meredith went over their conversation as Daniel’s occasional snore punctuated his steady breathing. Yes, they’d admitted they loved each other. Yes, they’d admitted to wanting a future together. Yet, neither had actually stated they’d be the one to relocate.
Realization hit her. Daniel’s pros and cons exercise had nothing to do with deciding who would make the sacrifice. Had all his talk been about seductive persuasion in a way that made sense to a man with a nineteenth century mindset? Men were the breadwinners. Women were mothers and wives, not professors at private colleges. They’d be wealthy. He’d provide her and their children with a good life. Wisely, he’d made no demands that she stay. His was a stealthier, sweeter campaign meant to win her over to his way of thinking in small increments.
How likely was it that a man born in the first quarter of the 1800s would walk away from everything he’d worked so hard toward. Especially when he and his partner were on the verge of success beyond anything they’d imagined? Not very. Despite his declarations to the contrary, he had no intention of relocating to the twenty-first century.
Daniel had tossed out his line, and now he believed all he had to do was reel her in with the promise of a good life for the little woman. She wanted to shake him awake and let him know she was on to him, but something held her back.
She hadn’t been any more honest with him about her intentions than he had with her. That left them back at square one, and she suspected the real conversation wouldn’t happen until the moment of truth was at hand.
16
Daniel took the handle on one end of the wooden box, and Charles took the other. They heaved it into the back of the wagon, which was hitched to the mules and ready to go. Instead of gold or silver ore, they’d filled the box with gravel—doing so after sunset the day before in case the thieves were spying on them. The decoy load had to appear as if it had weight to be believable.
“Danny, we need to head to the sawmill tomorrow. Our engineer will arrive within a month, and I’ve been thinking. He’ll need a place to live. We’ll start building a bunkhouse with separate quarters for the engineer and the foreman.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Daniel said as he pushed the heavy box up flush with the back of the buckboard. Then he clambered over the seat to take his place at the reins.
Charles hopped off the back of the wagon and strode to the front. “What am I doing?” he asked as he climbed aboard.
“You’re trying to keep your mind occupied with anything other than what is going to happen twenty minutes from now.” Daniel blew out a breath. “I swear my heart is pounding so hard the sound is echoing inside my poor head. My hands are icicles, and my brow is beaded with sweat.” He glanced at his partner. “And not from exertion, it’s the the cold, clammy kind.”
“I know what you mean.” Charles grunted. “My mouth has gone as dry as the dust on my boots, yet I keep swallowing over and over. Everything in me is screaming do not enter the ravine. I’m just praying I don’t lose control over my bladder.”
“No one will think poorly of you if you do. Very likely we’ll both need a change of trousers before the morning is through.”
Charles started to rise. “We should bring—”
“Sit down, Charles. Let’s just concentrate on breathing and get this over with.”
Charles sat back down. “What if—”
“Don’t start.” Daniel released the brake and started the mules moving. Worrying about what could go wrong had kept him up all night. “Tell me again about the hydraulic mining method your uncle’s letter described.” Up until now, they’d used pickaxes and a sluice box to separate the gold from the quartz gravel they’d laboriously extracted. Hydraulic mining was said to be safer and much more efficient. “We do have a river running through our claim.”
“A river you say? It’s more like a spring-fed creek, enough for our wee sluicing operation, but that’s about all.”
“Fine. We’ll compromise and call it a stream.” Daniel flashed Charles a wry look.
“Anyway,” Charles continued. “Other prospectors in the area won’t take kindly to our diverting or damming said stream. The crushing method will be more effective for our operation. Our gold is threaded through quartz, not lying about in gravel on the ground.”
He and Charles continued to discuss their plans, and way too soon the ravine came into view. Impending doom gripped Daniel, and his blood chilled in his veins. Not a bird sang or a cricket chirped. None of the winged insects dared to buzz. Daniel glanced upward toward the clear blue sky, and in that instant it seemed the entire world held its breath.
Somewhere in the rocks ahead, three men waited to brutally murder them. He prayed six men also hid, waiting to save their lives. “It’s going to be mighty difficult to feign carefree laughter,” he whispered.
“Aye. Hold on the signal until the wagon’s rear wheels are completely inside the ravine, and we’re near the center point.”
“You too.” Daniel glanced as his best friend.
“Of course me too,” Charles hissed.
Daniel drew in
