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nosy! She was getting sympathy smiles. Humiliating, yes, but today she was taking diversion any way she could get it!
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    Seth was getting off course a bit. He was here to study history, not Melody. “So you’ve shelved your own research for now and are zeroing in on these?”
    â€œI’m doing both—Jane’s journals could hold the clues I need in my research. My main interest is with all these millions of dollars supposedly hidden across Texas. I mean, the very idea is startling. But when you think about how easy it would be for someone to have come across hidden money years ago and it never got accounted for—I can’t help but feel that the amount is off base. Especially where Sam Bass is concerned—the outlaw’s fame has just been stretched to the hilt.”
    â€œAnd why is that?” Seth asked, holding back on telling her again that her interest in the money was where their problems began. But she mystified him. Again, talking about the treasure, she was blossoming right before his very eyes.
    She sat up straight, energy flowing from her. “Accounts of his success and failure don’t match up. And since many of his escapades happened in this area of Texas, I thought it would be fun to try and match some of the fiction with fact. That’s why I’m so excited about these journals. I’ve realized that they may hold the key. If indeed he did rob one of these stagecoaches, if Jane wrote about it, then it very well could be a story that could expose new light on one of the questionable stories.”
    The fire was back. He found himself almost caught up in her enthusiasm. “Going through the journals might get in the way. Might slow you down if there doesn’t happen to be anything like that in them.”
    â€œOh, no! No. They’re remarkable. Actually, I can’t stop reading them. They’re fascinating. And did youknow that someone in your family started studying them? I found a couple of notes between the pages.”
    â€œI know my mom and all the grandmothers have read them.”
    â€œIf so, I just don’t understand. I mean, Jane has a beautiful way with words. I would think they would have realized the value of what you have here and would want to share these…” Her voice trailed off and her gaze sharpened as she searched his. He looked away—the classic sign that he was hiding something.
    â€œAhh,” she said. “I get it. You aren’t the first male Turner who didn’t want outsiders getting their eyes on these!”
    He looked back at her unapologetically. “My dad and grandfathers shared my love of the peaceful life. My mom and grandmothers understood.”
    â€œThat’s just wrong.”
    â€œTo you. Not to me and my family.”
    She frowned. “You make me want to read the journals as quickly as possible with all this secrecy. What is in these journals that y’all don’t want to get out?”
    It was his turn to frown.
    She tapped the table with her index finger, thinking. “It couldn’t be a horrible family secret in them because if there was, then the women of the family would have had a problem with showing them, too.”
    He kept his mouth shut. She scooted to the edge of her seat, looking like a cat about to pounce as she tried to come up with her own answers. Her eyes were alive, and he could see her mind working double-time. He’d already mentioned his grandpa Oakley’s love of a good campfire tale to her. Watching her, he found himself almost tempted to tell herabout granddad’s favorite of all tall tales. But that was suicide—
    â€œWhat is it that you’re not telling me?”
    Her point-blank question caused a knee-jerk laugh from him. “ Woman, where did you come from?”
    Her heart-shaped mouth curved up on one side and, like she’d been doing, she surprised him with a quick comeback. “Katy, Texas.”
    He