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“Because tonight just proves you'll dog my steps no matter where I go.” He pulled a curl straight and let it boing back into place.
“True.” Being within three feet of Sam Layton for longer than five minutes had her squeezing her thighs together in a vain attempt to ease the ache building in her clit. But she couldn't see a way around it. If she wanted to save her parents, she needed the map and a guide. She needed Sam. “So let's do this.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He unrolled the paper and laid it down in the middle of his desk, securing the edges with a magnifying glass on one end and a cornhusk paperweight on the other.
Josie couldn't hold back her groan. It wasn't the treasure map, but instead another damn map.
“This is a historical map of Dry Creek County.” He pointed to a rectangle in the northwest corner, his thigh pressing from knee to hip against hers. “That is McPherson's Bluff. The marking behind it represent the badlands.”
“What are badlands?” Her voice cracked on badlands as she tried to ignore the sexual havoc his nearness evoked.
“It's a barren area that's suffered serious erosion. It has lots of dry ravines and rock formations. Even back in Rebecca's day, it was an inhospitable place to be.” His finger traced a line a few inches east. “This was Rebecca's homestead, the place she bought after leaving the wagon train. People have been using this as the starting point for a treasure hunt for decades and coming up empty.”
“So we won't go there.”
He shook his head. “Not necessarily. It makes the most sense since that's where Rebecca spent most of her pre-married life in Dry Creek. The others didn't have the map, so we can't discount the homestead right away.”
“Wait, you said most of her pre-married life.”
“That's right. Turn to page forty-eight in the book you were going to toss at me.”
Josie flipped open the tome, flicking the pages until she got to the right one. “Mrs. Joseph McNerny.”
“Bridgette McNerny was a widowed mother of six who had a farm here.” His finger slid a few centimeters southeast. “This is where Rebecca stayed righ
t after giving up on going further west on the Oregon Trail. She was there for only a month.”
“Has anyone searching starting there?”
“A few, but again, they didn't have the map so they were just marching toward McPherson's Bluff, digging at any spot that looked promising.”
“And to think the map was hidden in the diary the whole time.”
Sam pushed away from the desk, his hazel eyes focusing on her with as much intensity as if he touched her. “We miss all kinds of treasures that are right in front of us.”
The invisible line of attraction pulling them toward each other strengthened. God, he undid her. If she didn't watch it, she'd lose focus, and with her parents’ safety on the line, that couldn't happen. Forget the lust and get back to business.
Forcing her attention away from his defined chest, she turned her back to him and stared at the map. “So how do you want to work this?”
“We head out at first light, which is in a couple of hours, so you might as well rest here.”
Now that sounded dangerous. “I don't think that's a good idea.”
He drew a line of fire across the small of her back. “Why's that?”
“We need to stay focused.”
Sam glanced out the darkened window. Not even a tweet filtered in through the opening. “Dawn isn't for a few more hours.”
“Just enough time to form a decent plan. Come on, you're Mr. OCD, don't tell me you're willing to just fly by the seat of your pants.”
A heavy quiet filled the room. Sam strolled over to the filing cabinet and slid shut the drawer she'd left open. He flicked away an imaginary piece of dust from the metal surface. “Maybe I'm obsessed by something other than order these days and am willing to shake things up a bit.”
That woke up the butterflies in her stomach. The truth of it was she didn't want to leave. Hadn't wanted to since that first night in Vegas. If it had been anyone other than Sam, would she have spent so much time trying to get him to partner up in the hunt for Rebecca's Bounty? No. She would have taken what she needed and pushed forward blindly into the unknown. All by herself.
But being on her own had never felt lonely—not until she'd met Sam.
She glanced down at the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. Adventure is worthwhile in itself. How long had it been since she'd lived up to that motto? Not since L.A. For too long she'd let cynical bravado take the place of an open mind and free spirit. The one-night stands had been fun, but she'd never spent a second night out of fear of misplacing her trust again. Nothing had been stopping her from seriously painting in Vegas except for her own doubts and insecurities. So she'd dabbled and played instead of creating something that stirred her soul.
