Gift of Gold

motivations.”
    “Praise at last from my prudish, conservative, disapproving daughter. You astonish me, Red.”
    “I asked a straightforward question.”
    Emerson grinned. “I’ve hardly had a chance to get to know the man, but I’ll tell you one thing. If he succeeds in helping me sell those dueling pistols for enough cash to get Yarington off my back, your Jonas is going to be my best buddy for life.”
    Verity frowned. “Jonas is going to help you sell them?”
    “Claims he knows some private collectors who will gladly pay top dollar and not ask too many questions about where those pistols came from. Says he met a few during the days he was holding down a respectable job as a college professor. Seems he was asked to authenticate certain items being considered for purchase by people who didn’t care where the items came from as long as they were genuine.”
    “Dad, are those pistols
stolen?
”
    Emerson chuckled. “Calm down. I’ve told you before, frowning in shock like that will eventually give you wrinkles. They’re not stolen. At least, not by me. My old friend gave them to me free and clear. You remember Lehigh down in Rio?”
    Verity groaned. “Lehigh’s the one who gave them to you? But where did he get them?” Samuel Lehigh was an engaging eighty-year-old charmer with a very vague past.
    “That’s the part that gets a bit sticky, I’m afraid. I’m not sure how Lehigh acquired them and I was too much of a gentleman to ask. Let’s just say it would be simpler if, when I turn around and sell them myself, my buyer is as discreet as I am.”
    “Oh, hell.”
    “Take it easy, Verity. If those pistols were stolen, it happened a very long time ago. They’ve been in Lehigh’s possession for years. I’m sure of that much. And now that Jonas is sure that they’re the genuine article, I’m all set. All we need is a buyer.”
    “And Jonas has promised to put you in touch with one. Interesting. I can see that any opinions I get from you regarding Jonas are going to be somewhat biased,” Verity said with a sigh.
    Her father eyed her for a short moment. “You know better than that, Red.” He took a large swallow of tea. The teasing light went out of his eyes and was replaced by something far more dangerous. “I’d have slit his throat when he walked back into the cabin last night if I really thought Quarrel was dangerous to you.”
    Verity gave him a weak smile. “Is that right?”
    “Sure.” Emerson’s eyes brightened again. “Fair’s fair, after all. He nearly gutted me earlier when I broke into the place.”
    “He
what?
”
    Emerson made a soothing gesture. “Relax, Red. It was just a simple case of mistaken identity. It was late when I arrived and I didn’t want to wake you to get the key. So I tried the door and then one of the windows to see if I could jimmy it open. When I came through the window, Quarrel was waiting with a knife in his hand. I knew right then and there, you’d finally shown some intelligence when it came to your hiring practices. From what I’ve seen of your previous employees, none of them could have handled a scene like that with what Papa Hemingway liked to call grace under pressure.”
    “Oh, my God, one of you could have been killed.” Verity was momentarily stricken as the implications sank in. She choked on her tea.
    She had seen her father cornered once after a bar brawl by a combatant who had been dissatisfied with the official outcome of the fight. In the middle of a moonlit, waterfront street the man had gone after Emerson with a knife. Verity had been with her father at the time. Emerson had come out of the short, savage duel with only a few scrapes. His younger opponent had been badly cut. Verity had never forgotten the color of blood illuminated by moonlight. It was black.
    Emerson patted his daughter on the back, the affectionate blows causing her to stagger slightly. “Hey, take it easy, Red. Neither Quarrel nor I got upset about it, so don’t you get in a tizzy. Although I’ll admit it’s nice to see you still have a little faith in your old man’s ability to take care of himself. But like I said, the little scene last night was just a slight case of mistaken identity. We soon cleared it up.”
    “How reassuring.” Verity shook her head. “Dad, you are absolutely incorrigible.” She paused, nibbling on her lower lip as she studied him. He smiled at her, unrepentant but full of a father’s love. She put down her teacup and