Her smile widens, and something hot and urgent unfurls in my chest, spreading lower. I shift my stance, grateful for the porch railing that partially conceals my body’s immediate, enthusiastic response to her transformation.
“Coffee’s ready,” I call to the group, tearing my eyes away from her before I make a complete fool of myself. “Come on in.”
Everyone files into the house, a chaos of greetings and conversation filling the previously quiet space. I hang back, waiting for Lana.
“You okay?” she asks quietly as she passes me at the door.
“Fine,” I lie, knowing my voice betrays me. “Just... didn’t expect the entourage.”
“Kori insisted everyone come,” she explains, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Once I mentioned treasure, there was no stopping them.”
I follow her inside, keeping my eyes firmly above shoulder level and willing my body to behave. The kitchen is crowded now—Jake pours coffee for everyone while Ella rummages through the fridge for breakfast fixings. Kori and Kane lean against the counter, whispering something to each other while Mia and Connor occupy chairs at the table. Nora is already outside again with Scout, his excited barks drifting through the open window.
“So,” Jake says, turning to me with raised eyebrows, “I think it’s time you told me what’s been going on while we were gone.”
All conversation stops as everyone turns toward me expectantly. I take a deep breath, catching Lana’s eye across the room. She gives me an encouraging nod.
“You might want to sit down for this,” I suggest, gesturing to the living room, where there’s more space. “It’s quite a story.”
Once everyone is settled—Jake and Ella on the couch, Kori and Kane in adjacent armchairs, Connor and Mia cross-legged on the floor—I begin. Lana stands near the fireplace, occasionally adding details I miss as we recount everything: the mysterious notes, the ammunition box, Thomas Wolf’s journal, the gold samples, Margret and Danny’s involvement, and finally, the revelation about the mineral rights.
Jake’s expression grows increasingly stunned as we talk. By the time we finish, he’s running both hands through his hair, a gesture I recognize from childhood—his way of processing overwhelming information.
“Let me get this straight,” he says finally. “You’re telling me there are gold bars hidden on my property, possibly worth millions, and potentially billions more in mineral rights beneath the ground?”
“That’s the short version, yes,” I confirm.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, leaning back against the couch cushions. “And this Thomas Wolf—he was Margret’s grandfather?”
“Great-grandfather,” Lana corrects. “Her nephew Danny is the one who attacked me at the mill.”
Jake’s head snaps up at this. “He what?”
“He tried to use me as leverage against Caleb,” she explains, her hand unconsciously rising to her throat where bruises are faintly visible. “Scout intervened.”
Jake’s expression darkens. “And where is this Danny now?”
“In custody,” I assure him. “Multiple charges, including assault and illegal possession of explosives.”
“He was planning to blow up parts of your property to get to the gold,” Lana adds. “The police found dynamite in his truck.”
“This is insane,” Jake says, shaking his head. “Absolutely insane.”
Kane leans forward, his expression thoughtful. “The mineral rights are the real issue here. Gold bars you can dig up and be done with it. But copper deposits? That’s ongoing value—and ongoing complications.”
“If word gets out about this,” Connor adds, “every mining company in the country will be knocking on your door. Not to mention the government’s interest.”
“Which is why we need to move carefully,” I say. “Margret wants to honor her great-grandfather’s wishes—use the gold to benefit the community, preserve the historical aspects. But the mineral rights are a separate issue.”
Jake looks at me, a question in his eyes. “And what do you think we should do?”
I’m surprised by the question—by the implicit trust in his voice. “I think we need legal advice before making any decisions. And let's talk to Margret again, get the full story about Thomas Wolf and his intentions.”
Connor, who has been quietly listening until now, speaks up. “I can reach out to the MacGallan attorney. He also specializes in property rights and natural resources.”
“Thank you,” Jake says, squeezing Ella’s hand. “The sooner the better.”
“In the meantime,” I continue, “we should find the rest of the gold. According to the journal, there could be several more caches hidden around the property.”
