Brooks was already pulling out his own phone. “Ma’am this is Agent Brooks Stone with the FBI. You may have just saved a woman’s life.”
Nash could hear Eleanor’s sharp intake of breath through the speaker.
“We’re going to need you to stay available for a more detailed statement,” Brooks continued, “but for now, you’ve given us exactly what we needed to know.”
“Thank you,” Nash said, leaning in.
After Porter ended the call, Brooks immediately dialed another number. “This is Agent Stone. I need to reroute the tactical team to Windsong Reservation immediately. We have confirmation of the target location.”
Nash was already moving toward the door. “I bet she’s throwing them off,” he said, causing everyone to look at him.
“What do you mean?” Colt asked, following Nash toward the front door where gear was being loaded.
Nash paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Think about it. Amy knows the map fragment points to our land, not the reservation. But she told that woman they were taking her to Windsong. She’s trying to buy us time.”
Trey nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. “She’s misdirecting them. Making them think the gold is on reservation land instead of Cross Creek land.”
“Which means they’ll waste time searching the wrong area,” Marshall added, appreciation evident in his voice. “That woman is brilliant.”
“And in serious danger,” Hunter said quietly. “If they figure out she’s misleading them …”
“Get moving!” Colt yelled.
“Brooks, how long until your backup reaches the reservation?” Nash asked.
“Forty-five minutes,” Brooks replied, ending his call. “They’re coming in from multiple directions to avoid detection.”
“We leave now,” Trey said, shifting into mission command mode. “Multiple vehicles, different routes. If Amy’s buying us time, we can’t waste it.”
The controlled chaos of departure began immediately—gear being loaded, vehicles being assigned, final communications checks being conducted. Nash found himself in Porter’s truck with Colt and Chance, following behind the lead vehicle containing Trey, Brooks, and Marshall.
As they pulled away from the ranch house, Nash caught sight of the women gathered on the front porch—his sisters-in-law and the Stone wives watching them leave with expressions of worry and determination. Cheyenne stood at the center, her chin raised with the same stubborn courage that ran through all the Cross siblings.
The familiar landscape of Cross Creek Ranch rolled past the windows—pastures where Nash had learned to ride, fence lines he’d helped repair, the creek that had given their family its name. All of it looked different now, colored by the knowledge that somewhere beneath this land lay the treasure that had cost Amy’s father his life and now threatened hers.
“She’s going to be okay,” Colt said from the passenger seat, his straightforward manner cutting through Nash’s spiraling thoughts. “Amy’s tougher than she looks.”
“I know,” Nash replied, though his hands were clenched into fists in his lap. “I just keep thinking about what could go wrong.”
“Don’t,” Chance said. “Focus on what we can control. We know where she is, we have backup coming, and we have the element of surprise.”
Porter’s radio crackled with Trey’s voice: “All vehicles, maintain radio silence until we reach the staging area. We go in coordinated and we come out together.”
“Go faster,” Nash said into the radio. “Haul as fast as you can!”
CHAPTER 25
Amy’s heart hammered against her ribs as the black SUV bounced along the dusty reservation road. Through the windshield, she could see the weathered sign for Windsong Reservation.
“Where exactly?” the man with the scar demanded, turning in the passenger seat to glare at her.
She needed time.
Time to figure out where to keep them chasing this gold.
Time for Nash to show up.
Time to … keep living.
