“Which looks just like the one in the picture of her as a lady’s maid. I think it’s a sign,” she told him.
“’Course it is,” Silas said with confidence. “Let’s dig.”
It took them ten minutes of focused digging, their shovels and backs working in tandem. And then Sy’s blade hit something.
“That didn’t sound like rock to me,” he said.
Maggie grinned. “That sounded like metal. Should we get the others?”
“Let’s make sure it’s something and not nothing before we haul Wallace up here,” he suggested.
They dug more frantically until the first box came into view.
“Well, it’s heavy as fuck. Either there’s gold in there or someone melted down a buncha antique bowling balls,” he predicted.
“Holy shit. Holy shit,” she said as she helped him brush away the dirt and loose rock. “Wait a second. It’s a lockbox. We need a key, unless we want to use our shovels to destroy an artifact.”
“Hang on a second,” he said, reaching into the hole. He scooped dirt away from the underside of the box. “Aha.” He produced a small leather pouch. “No destruction necessary.”
“You are so sexy right now I almost want to have my way with you instead of opening this box.”
“Why not both?” Silas said, slipping an old-fashioned brass key from the pouch. “You do the honors.”
Maggie wiped her palms on her dirty jeans and blew out a breath. She lay down on her belly and finagled the key into the lock. “Are you ready?”
Silas lay down next to her and put his hand on her ass. “Now I am.”
It took some work and some muscle, but the key turned, and the lock opened.
“I’m so excited I feel like I might barf,” she whispered.
“Don’t barf on the gold,” he said. “Barf around the gold.”
“Let’s do this together,” she suggested, taking one corner of the lid.
“You’re just saying that in case we unleash some centuries-old mummy curse opening this box.”
“Well, now I am,” she said dryly.
“Hang on,” he said, putting his palm on the lid. “What do you think of October?”
“You want to wait two more months to open this thing?” she asked.
“No.”
“Okay. Then I think October’s a nice month,” she decided. “Cooler weather. Fewer bugs.”
“Good. It’s settled.” He patted the box. “We’ll get married in October.”
“This October?” Maggie temporarily forgot about the gold.
“I think the thirteenth has a nice ring to it,” he mused, brushing knuckles over her cheek. She felt the dirt transferring onto her face.
She swallowed. “That’s my mom’s birthday,” she whispered.
“Imagine that,” he said, nudging her chin up.
“I love you, Silas.” She barely got the words out before his mouth closed over hers. Before her heart sang. Before her body vibrated with the rightness of it all.
“I want you.” His words caused tremors in all the right places.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered.
“Maybe we should open this box first,” he said with a smug grin.
“Oh, yeah. That. On the count of three. One, two, th— Holy shit, Silas Wright, you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
He gave her a celebratory slap on the ass. “Just imagine what I can do with the rest of your life,” he said, shoving his hand into the coins that glittered in the afternoon sun.
In the corner of the box, Maggie spotted a scroll of paper tied with a leather cord. Carefully, she withdrew it and worked the knot free.
“Silas!” she said, smacking him.
“What?” he asked, turning to face her, two gold coins for eyes.
“Listen to this. I, Anna Potter, do solemnly promise I took only what I needed and will do only genuine good with what I take.”
He let the coins fall from his face. “It’s just like the book.”
“Wow,” she whispered.
“What are we gonna do now?” he asked her.
“You mean besides plan a wedding in two months?” she said with a grin. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Are they any good?” Silas teased.
“That depends. How do you feel about getting everyone their jobs back?”
“Damn, I love you, Maggie Nichols.”
“Five bucks says I love you more,” she told him, closing the distance between their mouths.