Page 43

Harper

Three hours after returning to New Mexico and we finally, finally, FINALLY…found buried treasure

Dazed and bewildered, I sat cross-legged on the floor of Monty’s trailer while she and Ruby worked on opening the metal box.

The one with Harry Boyle’s initials engraved into the top…buried at the exact coordinates Eve had found in Priscilla’s locket.

Two weeks ago, I’d been bickering with Eve at The Wreckage about the location of her aunt.

Now Monty stood just a few short feet away from me, and I wondered if I had the right to feel such sudden affection for her.

She was brash and brave, arrogant and expansive.

And though I knew she and Ruby were coming out of a rocky patch in their marriage, it was astonishing to watch Monty, a human tornado, be so deeply devoted to her wife.

What was it like, loving so boldly? Being loved so boldly?

Eve sat on the floor near me, one leg stretched out long and her back propped against a cabinet.

I was practically levitating at her nearness, had been since I’d arrived.

Just a couple hours back in her presence and it was impossible for me to fathom how I ever thought I could control my attraction to her or minimize my desire to be with her.

She was no tidy task on a list to mark “done.” She was a whirlwind, scattering my plans and decimating my attempts to hold her at arm’s length.

Eve Bardot had seduced me into recklessness, charmed me into taking risks.

And now that I was back in New Mexico, the biggest risk of all was admitting that I was falling for her already.

Her dark eyes slid to mine as if she knew I was thinking about her. She swallowed hard, then reached over and pulled a leaf from my hair. The brief graze of her fingers against my scalp was electrifying.

“You’ve got a little bit of treasure in your hair, cowgirl,” she murmured.

I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to burst into tears. Wanted to beg forgiveness for every shitty thing I’d said. We’d just unearthed a piece of history together—but that didn’t mean she was ready to forgive me yet.

A squeaky, metallic sound split the air, breaking my focus on Eve. A stale, musty scent filled the room.

“Holy hell,” Monty murmured, “I can’t believe we got it open.”

Eve and I flew to our feet and gathered round. Ruby turned on the overhead lamp, shining light onto a large pile of letters bound in four neat piles inside the box. She lifted them up and out, revealing loose pictures lying at the bottom, along with some chewed-down pencils, a few scraps of paper.

In the corner of the box lay a small velvet bag. Ruby gently tugged the bag open, tipping out a few button-sized diamonds into her palm. A full-body shiver worked through me, and I completely forgot to breathe.

“So…there were diamonds,” Eve said, sounding awestruck.

Astonished, I carefully untied the faded red ribbon that held together the first pile of letters.

They fell sideways like a stack of dominoes, sending up another burst of musty air.

They hadn’t been exposed to the sun, so the ink was fairly legible, though the handwriting itself was spidery and faded.

I selected the first and opened it, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest.

“The envelope is addressed to Mr. Harry Boyle at the general store in Haven’s Bluff,” I said, eyes scanning.

“Date is…wow, March 1905.” I slid the letter out and read: “ Dear Mr. Boyle, my name is Clarence Clayton and I am writing for your help. Your name was given to me by a Eugene O’Neal, who told me he was visiting Manhattan on business. ”

“Eugene O’Neal,” Eve said, “the man who lived with Harry and who Waylon believes was his partner.”

The hair rose on the back of my neck. “ He said that you could provide assistance for men like me and my husband, Theodore, ” I continued.

“ He is, of course, my husband in my heart and in how we conduct ourselves privately. Not by the church or by the law. The police watch men like us too closely now. Two friends have already been jailed. If you are able to get us to a safe place, we would appreciate it. My family is suspicious. ”

I set the letter down, brow pinched. “I’m confused. Harry and Eugene were helping people?”

Eve picked up the next letter from Clarence, dated about eight months later.

“This one says… Dear Mr. Boyle, thank you again for the … for the diamonds. ” She paused, eyes flicking to the tiny jewels still in Ruby’s palm.

“ The money we received after selling them lasted until we reached California and helped us get set up here. We’re renting two rooms at a boardinghouse in San Francisco and are very happy to be together and feel safe.

Enclosed is a picture of me and my husband. We are eternally grateful. ”

I dipped my fingers into the box and pulled up a faded picture, soft at the corners, of two men. Signed and dated: Clarence and Theo, November 1905 .

Something was happening inside my brain, a final few missing pieces sliding into place.

I divided the remaining letters between me and Eve. Some had faded too poorly to read, others too torn and crumbled. But the ones we could had similar wording.

“Thank you for the funds, it helped us leave…”

“We’re mighty grateful for your generosity, Mr. Boyle…”

“The diamonds served us well and kept us fed and housed on our journey…”

Beneath the letters, stacks and stacks of pictures dated up through 1930.

I selected another letter at random, almost numb with the gravity of what was being slowly revealed to us. Unfolding the piece of paper, I read quickly and gasped.

“I think…this letter is about Priscilla. It’s dated August 1903.”

I passed it to Eve, who read, “ Dear Mr. Boyle, I’m writing to you regarding information given to me by Miss …

” Eve hesitated. “ Miss Priscilla Grant, who lives with her companion, Miss Adeline Blackburn, on Castro Street in San Francisco. She suggested that you might have resources to help me leave my parents’ home.

That you helped women like me, women who feel passionately for other women, as I do for my companion, Miss Josephine Highland.

If you would see to it that we might escape our current situation, I do believe our lives would improve immeasurably. ”

Monty set her cowboy hat on the table and cleared her throat. “Am I hearing that Priscilla and Adeline…lived?”

“More than lived,” Ruby said. “It sounds like they made it to San Francisco. And—”

“Took each other’s last names,” Eve finished.

“That’s why there’s no record of them afterward, why no one could find them,” I said. “Anyone searching for them was looking for the wrong names.”

“And there’s a second letter below this one.

” Eve continued reading: “… writing to inform you, Mr. Boyle, that Josephine and I arrived at my sister’s ranch in the Montana Territories this past week.

As I suspected, she welcomed us with open arms, as her husband’s sister is the same way that we are.

She lives openly with another woman on her own ranch, a few miles from here.

We would not have made it here without your resources, Mr. Boyle, or without Miss Grant and Miss Blackburn’s kind advice and wisdom. ”

I pressed my hand to my mouth, pulling together the brilliant threads of this story. The remaining diamonds. The years of letters. The gratitude after long journeys to safer horizons.

Not perfect, but hopeful.

“They were helping other queer people,” I said. “Priscilla wasn’t killed. And Harry wasn’t a petty thief. This was…this was orchestrated.”

Eve held a stack of letters in her hand.

“Priscilla fled with the diamonds, then they used them to help others do the same thing. It’s probably why there are only a couple diamonds left.

This box must have been Harry’s version of a bank.

Hiding a huge fortune from local vigilantes while protecting the identities of the people who wrote to him. ”

I indicated the sweep of documents before us. “They go on like this for years. Do we know when Harry Boyle died?”

Ruby tilted her head. “1932? ’33? Something like that. He likely died before he could move them. I doubt he’d leave any diamonds left untouched on purpose.”

I kept digging through the letters until I found a final stack. All these years later and the love and care that went into keeping them safe was obvious. These were neatly folded, stacked in chronological order.

They were all addressed to Harry and Eugene.

And they were all from Priscilla and Adeline.

I scanned the first one eagerly—then, with a triumphant smile, I extended it to Monty. “This is a letter from Priscilla to Harry, referencing the ‘idea they spoke about in New York’ and saying she’s certain she’ll be with him soon. That she’s bringing her best friend and their favorite jewelry.”

Monty barked out a laugh. “Our girl was smart.”

The third letter down was dated after the diamonds were stolen, postmarked from San Francisco.

Opening it, I read, “ Harry and Eugene—Addie and I have settled in quite comfortably in our little bungalow on Castro Street.

You should come visit us soon, the city is breathtaking, and there is art and music and extravagance as far as the eye can see.

We are quite happy here and have both spoken to the local school about their openings for primary school teachers.

“ All is quiet on the notoriety front—if anyone has recognized us, they’ve not said a word, and we haven’t seen any of those posters lying about.

William is a proud man but fickle—he’ll be married again by the end of year, and I doubt he’ll search much longer.

Your idea to list my name in the visitor log and flaunt around a bit in Haven’s Bluff was a smart one.

Do let us know how you get on with what we left you—if you’re wise, that amount should last you for years, and I believe we can help a great many people.

Any extra, we’ll send along your way as well.

“ Write soon, give our love to Gene, and remember that when you miss us, you always have my best locket—when you need it. All my love, P. ”

All the air left my body. I sagged, setting the letter down, absolutely fucking amazed at the secrets it revealed. “It was all on purpose.”

Eve raked a hand through her hair. “They did know each other. Planned this ahead of time. And all the eyewitness stuff, the name in the log, that was all planted evidence. Red herrings to throw William off their trail.”

“The coordinates of where they’d buried the diamonds in Forks were stored in the locket,” Eve said. “So they’d always be able to find them. And I’m guessing Priscilla and Adeline must have gotten to California by stagecoach instead of the train.”

“A century later and that same planted evidence was still throwing treasure hunters off the scent. We would never have thought to look in Forks if we hadn’t seen about the detour.

” I shook my head, studying the spread of letters and pictures.

“This is incredible. This is… This is beyond my wildest imagination. Did you ever think it would be something like this?”

Monty scoffed. “On a good day, I hoped that Priscilla and Adeline made it somewhere safe. On a bad day? I was sure they’d been killed. But I never pictured something with this kind of scope.”

“And the connections they made,” Eve said. “They protected each other. Kept each other’s secrets. Like a whisper network, ferrying people from bad situations to safe ones. Or as safe as any queer or trans person could be in the early 1900s.”

Eve was staring up at her aunt, pure joy on her face. The sight of it sent my heart spinning like an acrobat. “Monty…Priscilla and Adeline, they…they made it . Lived together in San Francisco and helped people get resources. And they were happy .”

Monty’s smile could have lit up the entire night sky. “Of course she made it. She’s our ancestor, and she’s just like you and me, kid.”

“Stubborn as hell?” Eve offered.

Monty pulled her in for a side hug and kissed the top of her head. “A trailblazer. Someone who charted her own course, even when it was scary. Who did the right thing, in the end.”

The heroes, all along. I watched the happy scene in front of me with a tender ache in my chest. Thinking about telling the truth of who I really was. Thinking about the life I wanted to grab hold of with both hands.

Thinking about Eve, the person I most wanted to tell that big and scary truth to.

I just hoped she’d forgive me first.

A sharp rapping at the trailer door drew Monty’s attention. Frowning, she propped it open with the tip of her boot—to reveal Jensen. Alone this time, holding his rain-soaked hat in his hands.

“Is it them?” he asked eagerly—uncharacteristically so. “Did you find Priscilla’s diamonds?”

Monty heaved a sigh. “We’ll share more as soon as we can. But we need a minute to collect our thoughts first, Jensen. What we just found…it’s un-fucking-believable.”

He reached in and held the door open before she could shut it in his face. “Just tell me one thing. Adeline Grant…did she make it? Did she and Priscilla survive?”

My stomach lurched in shock, and Eve’s eyebrows went skyward.

Ruby cocked her head in confusion. “How do you know who Adeline is?”

Jensen gulped and squeezed his hat. “Because we’re related.”