Nash (Cross Creek Wyoming Ranch #6)

Chapter 1

Nash Cross loved being in Salt Lake City, Utah. He loved the big mountains. He loved the blue sky that reminded him of Montana. He loved the people in this city. They were friendly, and even though he didn’t know anyone, it didn’t really bother him.

As the youngest Cross brother, Nash had always valued his independence.

While his older brothers had remained close to the ranch—Porter running it, Colt managing the cattle operations, Blaze handling his vet clinic in town, and Chance serving as sheriff—Nash had chosen a different path.

Law school had been his escape, his way of carving out his own identity apart from the family legacy.

Granted, he would go back to Montana eventually, but it felt good to strike out on his own for a bit.

He took another bite of his turkey club sandwich at his favorite local café.

He was reviewing case notes for the firm where he’d been working since graduation.

The prestigious Salt Lake City law firm Smith and Owens had been impressed with his analytical mind and work ethic—traits he’d developed growing up on Cross Creek Ranch.

His phone buzzed with a text from his brother Colt. Come home soon.

He grinned and texted him back. I’m busy.

Colt sent a “whatever” emoji.

Nash laughed. He liked that he was close to his brothers.

How’s the hunt going? Colt texted.

Nash knew his brothers were keeping track of everything he was doing in regards to the gold. Which was fine, since he kept track of everything they were doing. Good, he replied. I’ll let you know when I know anything.

Colt sent a thumbs-up.

Nash reflected that ever since Porter had taken over after their father’s death, the Cross siblings had been on a wild ride—marriage deadlines, cattle rustlers, and most surprisingly, a treasure hunt that had consumed their lives for nearly two years now.

Nash still couldn’t believe how much the conquistador gold had changed their family’s trajectory.

It had started with a letter between two Navy SEALs—their father and Jack Stone.

That letter had ignited a search that led to dangers none of them could have anticipated.

Truman Birch’s obsession with finding the gold had nearly cost them everything, including lives.

Nash frowned. He wasn’t happy that Truman was dead, but it did give the family a bit more peace.

He thought about the Stone family. They had been at the center of this hunt long before the Crosses became involved.

Trey Stone and his siblings—Kensi, Brooks, Marshall, Hunter, and Trent—had been searching for the gold for years after discovering a piece of it and learning about their father’s connection to the treasure.

Their family had endured attacks from people like Mr. Banks and Truman Birch, both obsessed with finding the conquistador gold.

Just last month, Blaze had returned from Kentucky with both an engagement to a woman named Eden and information about gold coins being sold through horse-racing circuits. The Cross family treasure hunt was beginning to feel like a complex jigsaw puzzle with pieces scattered across the country.

Nash sighed and took another bite of his sandwich.

While he missed being part of the day-to-day search with his brothers, he appreciated having some distance from the chaos.

Here in Salt Lake, he could focus on building his career while still contributing to the family cause when needed.

His legal training had already proven useful in researching historical claims and property rights connected to the gold.

Porter had called him twice last week about reviewing some documents from the reservation.

There was one lead he hadn’t been able to chase down, though.

Raine Birch had told the family about it after Cheyenne, Nash’s sister, got married.

Apparently, there’d been more correspondence between his father and Jack Stone, the Stone family father—who had both passed away—but the letter was with another man, Mr. Harris.

Harris was such a common name, and nothing had popped up on any of his searches for information about the Porter Rockwell gold.

Porter Rockwell—the infamous bodyguard of Joseph Smith and Brigham Young—was known for hiding wealth in the mountains around Salt Lake. Nash had been researching him for weeks, fascinated by the historical connection to their own treasure hunt.

He glanced at his watch. He had about an hour before he needed to head up to Big Cottonwood Canyon.

An old hiking buddy from law school had mentioned some unusual markings in a cave up there—markings that resembled the broken arrow symbol they’d found on the missile silos back at the ranch.

It was probably nothing, but Nash couldn’t ignore a potential lead, not when every Cross sibling was expected to contribute to the search.

After finishing his lunch and paying his bill, Nash drove his Jeep up the winding mountain road.

The canyon was breathtaking, with towering pines and aspen trees beginning to show hints of gold as autumn approached.

The irony wasn’t lost on him—searching for gold while surrounded by nature’s own golden display.

He parked at the trailhead and grabbed his backpack.

Inside were water bottles, energy bars, a first aid kit, and most importantly, his father’s journal.

Nash had made detailed copies of the relevant sections, particularly the pages with the broken arrow symbol and the cryptic notes.

He wasn’t sure if the conquistador gold was connected to the legend of the Porter Rockwell gold, but he was ready to find out.

Nash received a text from his buddy that he wasn’t able to meet him. Well, too bad. Nash would make this trek by himself; the hunt for the gold had to continue.

The hike took longer than expected, the trail steeper and more challenging than Nash had anticipated. When he reached the cave entrance, a surge of excitement pushed away his fatigue. He pulled out his flashlight and ventured inside.

The beam of light revealed natural formations interspersed with what appeared to be man-made markings. Nash moved closer, running his fingers along a symbol that unmistakably resembled the broken arrow from his father’s journal.

“Wow,” he whispered to himself, snapping photos with his phone.

As he moved deeper into the cave, the flashlight illuminated another marking—this one resembling a palm leaf, similar to the engravings on the gold bar the Stone family had found. Nash’s heart raced. This couldn’t be coincidence.

He spent nearly two hours documenting everything in the cave, comparing the markings to his father’s notes, and recording their exact locations. This could be the breakthrough they’d been waiting for.

When he finally emerged from the cave, Nash checked his phone—three missed calls from Porter and a text from Colt asking for an update. His brothers were going to be thrilled.

As he made his way back down the trail, Nash noticed a figure moving among the trees ahead. He slowed his pace, trying to get a better look without being obvious. The figure—a woman—emerged from behind a large pine tree, and Nash froze in his tracks.

It couldn’t be.

“Amanda?” The name escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

She turned sharply at the sound of her name, her eyes widening in recognition. Amanda Levitt. His high school prom date. The girl who had disappeared the very next day without explanation, leaving Cross Creek and a brokenhearted Nash behind.

Eight years had passed, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail, and she wore hiking gear that suggested she was no tourist.

“Nash?” Her voice was hesitant, almost fearful. “Nash Cross?”

He approached slowly, still not quite believing the coincidence. “Amanda Levitt. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Her eyes darted toward the cave entrance, then back to him. “I’m just hiking.”

“With geological survey equipment?” Nash gestured toward her backpack. “That’s an interesting choice for a casual hike.”

“I’m working on a research project. For the university.”

“Which university?”

“Look, it was nice seeing you, but I need to go.” She started to move past him, but Nash gently caught her arm.

“Wait. Eight years without a word, and now I find you in the same obscure cave I’m investigating? What is going on?”

She pulled her arm away. “Nothing. And you shouldn’t be here, Nash. This is dangerous territory.”

“Dangerous how? Are you looking for Porter Rockwell’s gold too?”

Her sharp intake of breath confirmed his suspicion. “How do you know about that?”

“The broken arrow symbol. The palm leaf engraving. They’re connected to something my family’s been researching.” Nash studied her face, trying to understand what she was hiding. “Amanda, what’s going on? Are you … afraid?”

For a moment, he thought she might actually tell him. Something in her expression softened, and he caught a glimpse of the girl he’d once known—the one he’d fallen for in high school, the one who’d left him with so many unanswered questions.

She frowned. “I’m not afraid, but you need to forget you saw me, Nash. Forget about the cave, forget about Rockwell, forget about all of it.”

“I can’t do that. My family—”

“Your family will be in danger if you keep pursuing this.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “A man who gave me information about this location is now dead.”

Nash felt a chill run down his spine despite the warm afternoon. “Then let me help you. Whatever you’re involved in—”

“No.” Amanda’s tone was final. She turned to leave.

Nash followed, reaching for her arm again. “Amanda, wait—”

Without warning, she whirled around and shoved him hard in the chest, pushing him back several steps. “Stay away from me!” Her eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and determination. “Like I said, it’s not safe to be around me.”

Before he could recover, she was moving quickly down the trail, disappearing among the trees as suddenly as she had appeared back in his life.

Nash stood motionless, his mind racing. Amanda Levitt was here in Salt Lake, investigating gold? That was crazy.

As he made his way back to his Jeep, Nash knew two things with absolute certainty: this was no coincidence, and despite her warning, he wouldn’t be staying away. Not this time.