Ivy’s eyes had widened, and her face was growing pale. He guessed his show of panic was only frightening her more. But if he could somehow get her away from Hance and the knife blade, he could work at freeing her.

“Tie her up,” Hance ordered the men.

As they moved to obey, Jericho guessed the two as well as Otis were a part of Rodney’s regiment during the war. No doubt they’d escaped to Texas, mustered there in one of the outlaw camps, and then come up to South Park together. Not to hide out and live here. But to search for this specific treasure, a treasure they obviously knew a great deal about.

Who had given them the information? Another band of outlaws? Perhaps even someone who’d been in the original group that had hidden the treasure in the first place? It was entirely plausible that Hance—Rodney—had gained knowledge about the treasure by killing and stealing for it.

Records indicated Rodney had been a brick mason before the war. When coming to Colorado, he’d probably settled on being a barber because the trade wasn’t all that hard to learn, especially if he’d given haircuts to other soldiers during the war.

Of course, it stood to reason that Hance had needed to stop in Denver to purchase supplies for his barbershop business. Somehow he’d gained the money he needed for equipment and transportation to South Park—likely through gambling or thieving.

Whatever the case, Hance wanted the gold, had been seeking it for months. And now that it was within his grasp, he’d do anything to get it.

As soon as Ivy’s hands were tied together, Hance pulled his knife away from her throat. But he kept her firmly within his grasp, the knife close enough that he could hurt her if Jericho made the smallest move to try to escape or defy him.

Hance still held Ivy’s gold nugget in his free hand. He examined it again, unable to hide his excitement. “Let’s go.” He prodded Ivy so hard that she nearly tripped.

Fury burned a trail through Jericho. He wanted to rip the fellow apart with his bare hands for hurting her and treating her with such disrespect. As ungodly as his attitude was, the anger festered inside him so that he was afraid of what he was capable of doing once he freed himself . . . because he would free himself. He had no choice if he wanted to save Ivy.

The two men led him forward between them, while Hance followed behind with Ivy. Otis, as quiet as always—except for his coughing—took up the rear, his gun out and trained on Jericho.

“Take us directly there, Bliss,” Hance called out before erupting into a fit of coughing too. The smoke wasn’t nearly as thick as it had been when they’d left the cave, but it was still irritating.