Page 40 of Tormented Hearts

She let out a sigh. “And that’s the legend.”

“That’s the legend. People have been looking for that mine for over a century.” He studied her in a way that made her think he was holding back, like he was weighing his words. “Which makes me wonder…what it is you’re actually out here looking for, Sinead.”

She didn’t answer right away. She stared at the steam curling off the spring’s surface as she turned the story over in her mind.

And feeling her father’s part in all of it.

He’d never said a word about the three prospectors or gold. She never knew where her family’s wealth had originated—it never mattered when the important part was the businesses they’d built over the generations that continued to expand and adapt to the changing world.

But if people in this area knew the tale, her father might have known too. Not once in all his years had he spoken of it. He’d let her grow up assuming Winthrop Holdings had simply always existed, built on some vague foundation of shrewd nineteenth-century investments, the way old money was always claimed to be built.

He hadn’t told her any of it, and when he died, only left her a note that said nothing more than look where the ridge bends twice. And sent her out here alone with a shovel and absolutely no hint about what she was supposed to find.

Unless this was a test.

Once the thought formed, she couldn’t shake it. Her father had spent her entire life doubting her.

She knew that as well as she knew her own name. Knew it, in every board meeting he’d let her sit in but never speak at. Every decision he’d made without consulting her until it was finished. Every time his stare passed over her like he was searching for someone else to take her place.

He never believed she was strong enough. It didn’t matter how many deals she made on the side, amassing more wealth for Winthrop Holdings. No matter how many places she traveled, how many languages she spoke or how competently she carried herself in rooms full of men twice her age.

Because she hadn’t been born a son.

Maybe this was his last attempt to see if she could prove herself and pass this test.

Maybe he’d sent her into these mountains, alone, with nothing but a cryptic note and a century-old family secret because some part of him needed to know—even from beyond the grave—whether his daughter had it in her to survive what two other men hadn’t.

Chapter Nine

If Hawk thought the previous day’s hike was slower than anticipated, this was ten times worse.

When he and Sinead set out, he thought he had a decent read on the map, but the ground refused to cooperate with any of his estimates.

What he thought to be a ten-minute hike to the next landmark turned into an hour. Loose scree gave way underfoot in places that looked solid enough to trust. What should have been a simple ridge crossing turned into twenty minutes of searching for a better route when the planned one appeared too dangerous.

Suddenly, he came to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Sinead caught up to him and let out a groan.

The trail came to a dead end without warning at the lip of a cliff, the rock dropping away below them.

Hawk studied the drop, then the terrain stretching out on either side. “We’ve got two options. We keep walking. It could be miles before we find a better place to descend, which will burn the rest of our daylight.” He met her gaze. “Or we go down here.”

She peered over the edge, jaw tight. “How bad is ‘here?’”

“Doable. Slow. Not fun.”

She blew out a breath. “We’re already behind schedule. Let’s try it.”

He went first, testing each foothold before trusting his weight to it. He called back handholds and warnings as they went. The descent demanded every ounce of his concentration.

“Don’t look down,” he told her when the bottom was far away.

And he said, “Don’t look up,” when they were far from where they started.

The world narrowed to the next place to put their feet, the next place to put their hands.

Suddenly, loose grit shifted under Sinead’s boot, and she let out a sharp cry, sliding hard against the rock face.