“It weighs about seventy pounds, honey. A really effective paperweight.” He hesitated, adding sadly, “You can be hard to buy for, sometimes. But I figured this was something you could really use when you get busy pushing papers around.”
The silver ingot was the size of a brick, a solid block of gleaming metal so bright, so mirror-bright, that the sun reflecting off it hurt Anne’s eyes.
“First,” Jake said lazily, “we’re going to mine a little silver. Then we’ll head up to my ghost town, Anne, where I usually set up camp when I’m here. Not where I have in mind your living with me, but we’ll get to Coeur d’Alene in a day or two.” He paused. “Actually, we might stop off and put that little ingot in a bank vault while we travel around. I have to admit it’s made even me a little nervous to have it just lying around…”
If Anne had known it had been “just lying around,” she would have developed an ulcer. As it was, she stared down at the ingot with a disbelieving expression.
“Jake, you’re out of your mind. Stark raving out of your mind.”
Chapter 9
Anne turned silent, once Jake came back out of the bank and started driving through the narrow streets of Wallace. The touch and look of the silver ingot was indelibly engraved in her mind, evoking unwilling fantasies of sterling castle…and a dreadful anxiety as to exactly what Jake had got himself involved in.
The look of the town was just not what she’d expected. Jake had been playing tourist guide, blithely relating that Idaho’s Silver Valley produced more than 40 percent of the nation’s metal ores. Wallace, he said, was the unofficial capital of the valley. He went on about geological fault lines and mineral deposits and the incredible wealth hidden in the mountains. Anne was hardly the type to whimsically imagine streets lined with silver, but Wallace…well.
The town was about as big as a handkerchief, and appeared as old as the hills behind it. Silver Shares Sold Here, shouted the signs in every other window. So much wealth in gold and silver, pocketed in this tiny, tiny place? The mountains simply didn’t provide growing room. Old frame structures were packed one on top of the other. Houses had backyards that led to a second tier of houses, with steps that led to a third tier of houses-and beyond that the mountains shot straight up.
“Not what you expected, Anne?”
“I can picture it as a rough, tough Western town about a hundred years ago,” she admitted.
“She hasn’t changed. She’s known gunfights, fire, feast and famine, and I don’t think anything ever will change her. Not as long as there’s silver in the hills.”
Yes. His silver. Anne took a breath, intrigued by Jake’s town but not at all by his latest business venture. “Jake, I wish you hadn’t got into this. You think I know nothing about the commodities market? The price of silver has fluctuated like crazy in the last few years. It’s a game of futures, where a broker contracts to buy or sell lots at a set price at some future date. The investors purchase those futures with margin money and go long or short-”
“I love it when you talk money,” Jake drawled. “Did you know that in India they serve silver-roasted chickens at weddings? They actually eat the stuff.”
“So,” Anne said crisply, “the sucker speculator agrees to buy silver at so many dollars an ounce in, say, three months. Or four. Or whatever. That’s all fine and good for him if the price per ounce is higher when that time comes. That means he gets more silver than he paid for. But if the price is lower, Jake, you have to put up more margin money.”
“It’s like listening to the flow of Greek,” Jake remarked to the world in general.
“Silver is a perfectly insane commodity to become involved in. How’s that for plain English?”
Jake shook his head. “Now let’s not get violent, honey. I didn’t buy futures. I bought the mines.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“You see, I found dozens of little mines that had been closed down for years. The silver in those mines wasn’t top-grade metal. But when demand for silver went sky high, I decided to go for it. You see, by themselves those little mines might not have been profitable, but put them all under one roof-my roof-and it’s a whole different ball game… Where are you going?”
“To get some antacid tablets. I can’t take this.”
The motor home didn’t stock antacid tablets. Anne settled for peppermint tea.
“Listen,” she started tactfully, as she carried her cup forward and sat down again. Only she couldn’t seem to continue. Jake pulled into a gas station, passed the pumps, and drove straight through onto another road. A road of sorts. The asphalt abruptly led straight up, like the start of a roller-coaster ride. Anne’s tea splashed, and her head bumped against the seat’s headrest. Before she could catch her breath, they were headed into a hairpin turn.
There were no guard rails along the side of the road. That was unfortunate, because there was a three-hundred-foot drop between the road and the valley below. If she’d had the urge, she could have opened the window and patted the tops of the tallest pines she had ever seen in her life. She didn’t have the urge.
“Jake-”
“We’re headed for the first mine I ever saw in this area. A really tiny one, actually, with no major tunnels or caverns. You’ve always been a little claustrophobic, and I didn’t think you’d want to go a thousand feet down inside the earth.”
“You’ve got that right,” Anne affirmed.
Jake chuckled. “So I thought I’d break you in nice and easy… You’d better drink that tea while you can,” he suggested.
Anne agreed. She sipped the scalding liquid as if it were fortified with courage. They were going to die on that road. Soon. The steep upgrade suddenly became a steep downgrade. The vehicle hit sixty-and that with Jake’s foot on the brake. “Most people only think of silver in terms of jewelry and flatware,” he informed her casually. “I’ve got one mine that produces a grade high enough for these things, but the others-”
Anne moaned. “Exactly how many mines do you own?”
“I sell the rest of my silver to various industries. Medicine, for one. Orthopedic surgeons use a cement containing silver salts to mend damaged bones. Did you know that? And patients who’ve been burned badly need silver, too… I’ve always had this horror of being burned. Without a silver cream to disinfect the burns-”
“Jake.” Anne set down her empty cup and clutched the armrest. “Where is this mine? How far from here?”
“Just a little way. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The roller coaster was going up again, curling around like a rattlesnake. The treetops were about five hundred feet below now. A Jeep was hurtling toward them from the opposite direction. Anne closed her eyes.
“And then there’s California, Anne. It can get pretty dry in certain parts of California. Silver can be chemically altered to form silver iodide crystals, and they can be used to seed the clouds-to make rain, Anne, for people who desperately need it. One thirtieth of an ounce of silver can yield ten trillion ice crystals.”
“That’s absolutely wonderful.”
Her palms were embarrassingly damp-which wouldn’t have been at all embarrassing if Jake hadn’t reached out and claimed one. “I’ve driven this road at night in the rain, honey.”
“Then you have a death wish.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
Which was exactly where they parted ways philosophically. She knew very clearly when there was something to worry about. Jake had never worried about anything in his life. “How often do you have to drive this road?” she asked, very casually.
“Every day during the week. Well…” He paused. “I’ve spent more time near Coeur d’Alene lately. You could tell from the look of Wallace that there’s really no place to live there, no space. You’ll love the place where I park the motor home, Anne. You won’t want to love it, but you will.” He paused again. “I haven’t finished telling you about silver.”