Iris Johansen - This Fierce Splendor

He was angry, Elspeth realized in bewilderment. She could sense it in the coiled tension radiating from him. Perhaps she should try to pacify him. Oh, dear, she was wobbling again. These Delaney men appeared to have a dreadful effect on her confidence. She supposed it wasn’t surprising she should have relapsed when that confidence was still a puling infant. She crossed to the couch and sat down next to Dominic. She kept her back very straight and she tucked her feet in their high-button boots under the hem of her gown. “It may take longer than you think, Mr. Delaney. I’m not a woman to give up easily.”

Her Scottish brogue was very evident in the words and Dominic found himself listening to the soft, rhythmic cadence rather than the words themselves. What the devil were the color of her eyes behind those spectacles anyway? Brown, he had thought at first, but now he was sure he had caught a glint of green in their depths. “You’re not?”

Patrick raised a brow in surprise at Dominic’s absent tone as he propped himself in a half-leaning position on the windowsill.

Elspeth shook her head. “Not when my purpose is such an important one. I’ve spent nearly every pound I have on this journey.” She drew a deep breath. “I want you to be my guide to Kantalan, Mr. Delaney.”

He stopped trying to pierce the thickness of those annoyingly distorting spectacles and glanced away. “I thought you did.”

Patrick gave a low, disbelieving whistle and sat up straighter. “Kantalan? That’s just a myth.”

Elspeth shook her head, her gaze fixed desperately on Dominic. “Surely you see you have to take me? There’s so much we can learn in a city more ancient than Montezuma’s Tenochtitlán.”

“A legend,” Dominic said flatly.

“It’s there ,” Elspeth said with an intensity that caused her voice to tremble. “My father was sure of it, and so am I. He spent over fifteen years studying legends and stories from the Indian tribes of Mexico and this territory. All of the tales were vague and unreliable except for one. A legend originating in an Apache tribe in this area. A legend that was handed down from generation to generation as a sacred trust. The general knowledge became known to everyone as myth, while the true and detailed knowledge was entrusted only to the medicine men of the tribe. They alone learned the exact location of Kantalan and its true history.”

“I’ve heard all this before and I told your father I had no intention of going on a wild goose chase. There are hundreds of legends of lost cities full of riches.” He shook his head. “I don’t believe any of them.”

“The legend says Kantalan’s treasury contains a fabulous fortune in gold and jewels,” Elspeth said crisply. “It would all be yours. My only purpose is to study the ruins and gather information. I have enough money to outfit a small expedition and you could become a very rich man with very little effort on your part.”

“Providing Kantalan actually exists,” Dominic said caustically. “And providing we could find it.”

“It does exist. I couldn’t be more certain.” She leaned forward, her folded hands trembling on her lap. “Ever since I was a small child I’ve heard my father speak of Kantalan. I did a great deal of the research for his last expedition and I’ve pored over everything written about the ancient civilizations in this part of the world. I’m not merely mouthing my father’s words, Mr. Delaney. He was forced to give up his dream of finding the city but I canna do that. Kantalan means too much to me.”

Patrick spoke suddenly. “Why was your father so sure Dominic could help?”

“White Buffalo, an Apache medicine man, refused to give my father any detailed information. He told him only enough to tantalize him. He did say there were two people who had the knowledge to help him. One was Dominic Delaney. He wouldn’t give him the name of the other person.”

“White Buffalo.” Patrick looked startled as he turned to Dominic. “Isn’t he the medicine man of Rising Star’s tribe?”

Dominic nodded.

“And do you know-”

“I don’t know anything,” Dominic interrupted roughly. “The only time I ever talked to White Buffalo was during the week I spent in their village when Joshua married Rising Star, and that was fourteen years ago. He muttered something about the four links coming together and gave me a sort of blessing. Kantalan was never mentioned.”

“He must have told you something else,” Elspeth insisted, her gaze never leaving his face.

Something flickered in Dominic’s eyes and then was gone.

“Why? White Buffalo was an old man and my father kept the fire water flowing pretty freely during that week-long celebration.”

Dominic Delaney knew something he wasn’t telling her, Elspeth thought, and the relief she experienced made her feel dizzy. For a moment he had almost convinced her that her only lead was a false one. “It wasn’t the liquor speaking. He did tell you something. Why won’t you help me?”

“Go home, Miss MacGregor. There are no seven cities of gold, there is no Eldorado, and there sure as hell is no Kantalan.”

She smiled. “I don’t know about Eldorado or seven cities. For all I know they may be real. I’d like to try to discover the truth about them someday, but right now my whole purpose is to find Kantalan. And we can find it together, Mr. Delaney.”

Lord, she was stubborn, Dominic thought, trying to smother the spark of admiration tempering his feeling of annoyance. He rose to his feet and inclined his head politely. “Good afternoon, Miss MacGregor. This is the last time we’ll be having this discussion. I’ve had my fill of the MacGregors, father and daughter, badgering me. I want to make my position crystal-clear: I won’t see or talk to you again. If you speak to me, I won’t reply. I hope you have an enjoyable stay in Hell’s Bluff because I promise it won’t be a fruitful one.” He turned away, glancing at Patrick. “Coming?”

“Not right now.” Patrick’s gaze was fixed with sympathy on Elspeth’s face. “You go on. I’ll join you at the Nugget in a little while.”

Dominic felt a jab of exasperation and another emotion which he refused to examine too closely. “Suit yourself,” he said curtly.

Elspeth watched him stride out of the room, her hands clenching ever more tightly. “He’s so hard,” she whispered.

“He’s had to be. He’s been on the dodge for almost ten years,” Patrick said. “He had to get tough or get killed. A man named Durbin has had gunfighters on his trail since he left Killara. Durbin wasn’t satisfied with making sure every lawman in the Southwest was looking for Dom.”

“Durbin?”

“Charles Durbin. When Dominic was about my age, he shot and killed Durbin’s son in a gunfight. It was a fair fight but Dominic was just a little faster.”

“Then why wasn’t he acquitted?”

“It never came to trial. Durbin is a banker in Tucson and has enough money to buy whatever he wants.” He shrugged. “He bought three witnesses who swore the Durbin kid wasn’t armed when Dom shot him. If Dom hadn’t run, they would have hung him.”

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care if your uncle’s a desperado or not. It doesn’t affect me. I need only one thing from him.”

He smiled gently. “That’s why I’m telling you. So you’ll realize you’re not going to get from him what you’re asking. The kind of life Dom’s led has whipped most of the softness out of him. He does exactly what he wants to do these days.” He paused. “And he doesn’t want to go searching for any lost cities.”

She was silent a moment, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip. Then she rose briskly to her feet. “He’ll have to change his mind. I’ll just have to find a way to wear him down. Where is he staying? I’ll go to see him tomorrow morning.”