Page 28 of Between a Rock and a Hard Cowboy

Spinning on her knees, she looked around the room.

Her gaze landed on a hammer Linc had left on a table near the front door. He must have used it to hang the greenery around the doorframe.

Launching off the floor, she scrambled toward the door. She grabbed the hammer and skittered back, landing on her hands and knees over the suspicious floorboards. She spun the hammer around to use the claw, cursing under her breath when it was too thick to get between the boards.

She needed something thinner but sturdy and not as flimsy as the ornament hook.

The kitchen.

Again, she jumped up and skidded her way into the kitchen, only to curse again when she realized it was too dark to see. She ran to the living room, grabbed a flashlight off the table and headed back, amazed Linc could sleep through all of this excitement.

Opening drawers, she found the cutlery. A butter knife. That might work. If not, she’d come back for the boning knife with the thinner blade but the higher likelihood of breaking. Or her slicing herself open.

Back on the floor she slid the butter knife between the boards. Pushing the handle down lifted the tip up, and along with it, the board. Excitement fluttered in her chest as she slipped her fingers beneath it. She lifted it completely out, laying it down beside her before reaching for the next board. And then the next.

Grabbing the flashlight, she illuminated the space she’d exposed. A hidden compartment, beneath the floor, with something square inside.

With her heart pounding and adrenaline flowing, she pulled up the final floorboard, set it aside and lifted out the obviously old piece.

It was a wooden box. A locked box. And there was a keyhole.

Her heart leapt.

Where was the key?

She was up again, racing toward where he slept, her eyes peeled for the key. Where had Linc put it? It wouldn’t be in his pajama pants. But had he stuck it in his jeans before he changed for bed?

She was about to go up and invade his privacy by rifling through his laundry in his bedroom when she spotted the bowl on the table by the front door.

It certainly looked like a good place to put keys. Car keys. House keys. Mysterious ancestral keys.

She ran for the door and bingo! There it was.

Her fingers shook as she kneeled on the wood one more time and set the box on its side. Aiming the end of the elaborate old key she’d spent so much time studying—that Linc’s grandfather, James Wilder, had spent so many years carrying—she inserted it into the lock and turned it.

And heard aclick.

Holy shit.

It fit.

With a gasp, she whipped her gaze to Linc. He was still asleep.

With no one to share the victory with, she didn’t take the time to stand up. Instead, while kneeling on the floor that she no longer cared was cold and hard, she eased open the lid of the box.

She sucked in a breath with amazement as she had to assume that this was the first time in decades a human had gazed upon the contents of this box.

And, unlike the secret compartment in the desk in the mansion which she found was empty after picking the lock, this box was full.

ChapterFourteen

Linc woke to find morning sun streaming in the window and the fire burned down to nothing but a few glowing embers amid the ash in the hearth. But the room felt warm without benefit of the fireplace.

The power, and consequently the heat, had come back on sometime while he’d slept. That was further evidenced by the glow of the bulbs in the table lamps around the room and the ceiling lights.

Eva would be happy the power was back. He lowered the footrest of the reclining chair and turned to where she’d settled last night.

He found her sound asleep beneath the throw. She looked too peaceful to wake. Besides, he was enjoying the quiet too much to wake her.

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