Danny’s laugh is bitter. “That land should have been ours. My grandfather tried to buy it for years, but old man Jenkins refused to sell. Said he promised it to his daughter, but the daughter never wanted it and sold it to Brennen.”
“The point is,” Danny continues, his eyes cold, “that treasure is our family legacy. Thomas Wolf was my great-great-grandfather.”
Chapter 12
Lana
“Your great- great-grandfather?” I exchange a glance with Caleb, whose steady aim hasn’t wavered despite this revelation.
“Yes,” Danny snaps. “Thomas Wolf was my maternal great- great- grandfather. The gold he mined rightfully belongs to his descendants.”
“If that’s true,” Caleb says, his voice level, “then Margret is also his descendant, more so than you. Yet you seem willing to threaten your own aunt over it.”
Danny’s jaw tightens. “She doesn’t understand what’s at stake. She wants to donate everything to some historical society—let them put it in a museum.” His voice drips with contempt. “That gold is worth millions in today’s market.”
“So it is about the money,” I say, feeling Scout press against my leg protectively.
“Of course it’s about the money,” Danny retorts. “What else would it be about? My business is failing, my kids need college funds, and meanwhile, there’s a fortune buried on land that should have been ours.”
I study his face, looking for signs of deception. Despite his aggression, there’s a desperation in his eyes that seems genuine.I’m not sure what to make of this family drama we’ve stumbled into.
“Where’s my aunt?” he asks suddenly, his gaze shifting toward the back doorway. “I know she’s here somewhere.”
“She left,” Caleb says. “And you should too. Without your rifle.”
Danny’s eyes narrow. “You don’t understand what you’re getting involved in. This isn’t just about gold. There are maps in those journals—maps to mineral rights worth far more than a few gold bars.”
This catches my attention. “Mineral rights?”
“Wolf didn’t just find gold,” Danny explains, his voice taking on an almost evangelical quality. “He discovered one of the richest copper deposits in the region—maybe in North America. The mining company never found it because he kept it hidden. Those rights alone could be worth billions.”
I can see Caleb processing this information, his mind working behind those intense eyes.
“So that’s why the county suddenly wants to build an access road through Jake’s property,” I say, the pieces falling into place. “Someone’s found out about the copper.”
Danny nods. “Exactly. Why do you think I’ve been in such a hurry to find those maps? Once the county gets involved, it’s all over. They’ll seize the mineral rights through eminent domain, claim it’s for the ‘public good,’ and my family will get nothing.”
Despite myself, I feel a twinge of sympathy for him. If what he’s saying is true, he’s fighting not just for gold, but for his family’s legacy—for what he sees as their rightful inheritance.
“Put the gun down, Caleb,” a voice calls out from behind us.
We all turn to see Margret standing in the back doorway, her own revolver pointed at her nephew.
“Aunt Margret,” Danny says, his voice softening. “Be reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable,” she replies, her hand steady despite her age. “You’re the one who’s lost his mind. First, your father, now this?”
Danny’s face darkens. “Dad’s death was an accident. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“I was there,” Margret says, her voice cracking slightly. “I heard you arguing with him about the treasure. I saw you coming down from the ridge alone.”
The tension in the room is palpable as Danny’s expression shifts from anger to something more dangerous—something cornered and desperate.
“Where’s the journal?” he demands. “And the map? I know you found them.”
“Safe,” Caleb answers, his gun still trained on Danny. “And they’re staying that way.”
A commotion from outside draws our attention—the sound of vehicles approaching, tires crunching on snow.
