Page 1 of Chance

Chapter 1

Chance Cross would not call himself a man of the world. He would not call himself sophisticated or well-traveled, but he would call himself street smart. After all, you don’t become a sheriff without learning a few things about the world. About people. About good and evil. You don’t become a sheriff, even in a small Wyoming town, without learning that some things in this world can be understood, and then there are others that are just plain unexplainable.

One of those mysteries was Truman Birch and his grueling drive to find the conquistador gold, even if it cost lives. It was the force that compelled the Cross family to reach the gold first—to get Truman away from their ranch. Logically, Chance knew it wasn’t the Stone family’s fault—or Raine Birch’s fault—that Truman had turned into this maniac who was out for the gold, but it was hard not to be frustrated with the whole situation, especially in regards to the safety of the Cross ranch and his family.

The conquistador gold itself was not one of those unexplainable things. A lot of people knew about it, especially the Stone family, who’d originally, had the gold.

The ironic thing was that no one knew for sure whether the gold had been moved to Wyoming or not. All they had to go on was one letter between his father and the Stone patriarch, two Navy SEAL friends who had spoken about the conquistador gold in letter form. Though, Chance had to admit his family’s ranch would be a great place to hide the gold. After all, most of the nation didn’t even know where Wyoming really was. They just knew it was some where in the Midwest. But it was actually considered in the west.

It was strange how a single letter about gold could turn so many lives upside down.

Chance rolled down his Jeep window as he pulled into South Port. It was hot, but there was a breeze. People said the humidity next to the ocean made a big difference in the temperature changes, and he had to agree.

Coming to a tourist trap like this town wouldn’t be a picnic. Plus, he had to stay undercover and not let anyone know he’d come here from Wyoming to learn more about the gold. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself; he wanted to give his family a reprieve from Truman Birch and his antics, all the while protecting the Stone family from media attention as well. Brooks Stone, the FBI brother of the family had put out fake media coverage that the gold was assumed to be in Alaska, and the two families were committed to letting that be the ‘real’ story for now.

He waited at a traffic light where most of the congestion centered in town. Everyone seemed to be turning into a gas station on his left. On his right, a park led to a public beach. The sight called to him. He’d gone on vacations to various beaches, and he’d even gone on a cruise with the whole family last year, but this beach was important to him.

This was a place he could engrave into a book of memories with a certain girl he’d grown up with. Her face flashed into his mind, and he pushed it away. Was it serendipitous that he found himself back here now?

He looked longingly at the couples strolling on the beach and swallowed the lump he’d been feeling in his throat lately. With Porter and now Colt married, the big joke was that either he or Blaze would be next. Nash said he was exempt because he was at law school and there were no second chance possibilities around.

The truth was, Chance would love to get married, but their small town in Wyoming didn’t have many options. He’d gone to the police academy after high school and then he’d just started working.

There had only been one girl in his life who he ever really thought about marrying …Kelly Hamilton, his childhood sweetheart. The two of them had spent the summer at this beach with her family when they were twelve. She had gone off to college in Europe, and whenever he saw her grandparents around town, he would ask about her. The one who’d gotten away was in Europe now, leading the artist life. Whatever that meant. Too bad her grandparents had both passed away now.

The stoplight changed, and the congestion cleared out. Chance sucked in a long breath, pushing all thoughts of first love out of his mind. He didn’t have time for that. He was here for a reason: to follow up on the leads he might have found from his father’s journal, particularly strange hieroglyphs and an address he wasn’t sure about. He had to focus on the task at hand.

No one in Cross Creek knew where he was. The Cross family had told everyone they had a sick uncle whom Chance would be helping out. Keeping a secret was hard enough without involving the town of Cross Creek. His status as the sheriff added to his presence in the public’s mind. The state had sent a fill-in sheriff. Chance didn’t know the guy, but Porter said he seemed all right.

It was sort of nice to get away from the problems there and be off on an adventure. After all, wasn’t adventure the thing that had gotten Chance into his current job as sheriff? The possibility of mystery and justice?

He scoffed at himself and what Blaze would call his vigilante dreams. When Chance was younger, he had written some comic books about himself as a vigilante. In fact, he had done an art class with the girl he’d been in love with.

Why was he thinking so much about that woman right now? Maybe because he thought about her a lot. Which might seem strange. She was the only woman he’d ever loved. Maybe it was just a flash in a pan, but it had been something to him.

He looked down at his phone and followed the directions to the Stone family Inn. He would be meeting with the Stone family to do a little debriefing and discuss the particulars. He wasn’t nervous, per se, although interacting with the whole clan could be intimidating. He’d met with them two weeks ago, before Colt’s wedding. Happiness filled him just thinking about how his brother and his high school girl had gotten back together. It was a magic story, truly. He was happy for Colt and Sierra.

Darn it, would true love ever be in the cards for him? Maybe he would meet someone. His father had always been encouraging when someone asked if his boys would ever get married. Chance wished his father wasn’t gone. He would’ve been helpful in the search for the elusive treasure.

Well, ‘if wishes were horses, then everyone would ride.’ His father used to say that, and Chance laughed at the memory. Wishes weren’t horses; that was for sure.

He pulled up to a large beach mansion. It was beautiful, and it loomed above him. Of course, he’d done some research on the Stone family, and he’d discovered that Trey, the oldest brother, had inherited the beach house and then married Ava a couple years ago. That was when the gold hunt had started—or it had been rekindled, as the articles online described.

A bunch of cars already occupied the driveway, so he parked on the side of the road.

Trey Stone came out the front door and started walking toward Chance. Trey was waving at him, but not in the sense that he was saying hello. When Chance started to get out of his vehicle, Trey shook his head and gestured for him to move. “You can’t park there. This way.”

So much for hellos. Chance fired up the Jeep and maneuvered around the other cars, settling in an open space by the huge garage. He stepped out, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

Trey nodded, his face all business. “You will keep the Jeep in the garage.” He moved to grab a tarp. “Here, help me put this over it.”

Chance found himself helping cover the Jeep.

“You’ll take my old truck when you go places so no one asks about a guy from Wyoming.” He held out a key.

Chance put his hand out and Trey dropped the key into it. “Probably a good idea.” He hadn’t thought about the fact his Jeep, with Wyoming plates, would draw attention.

They finished covering it and Chance nodded. “Okay.” He was reminded that Trey was cut from the same cloth as their fathers had been: they were SEALs.

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