Olivia's Treasure: Gamblers & Gunslingers, #4

By Kara O'Neal

Houston, Texas, 1882

After her father's death, Olivia Sullivan finds there's no money, and she's now the caretaker for her four younger sisters. In an instant, her comfortable life has disappeared, and now she spends twelve hours a day bent over a sewing machine in a boutique she used to patronize.

Kane Tucker lives life by his rules. Work is a waste of time. Nights were meant to be enjoyed with whiskey, cards, and women. But when he discovers Olivia Sullivan is stuck toiling day in and out, he can't help but want to assist his childhood friend.

Olivia wants nothing to do with Kane, especially since he fosters a careless and frivolous way of life. She has no time for fun though he insists on it. And when a mysterious gentleman comes calling, telling Olivia that she must pay off the astounding debt her father owed him, her situation becomes even more dire. Only the mystery of an amethyst necklace can save her and her sisters now, and while she goes on the hunt for treasure, Kane is right there beside her, stealing her heart and changing her mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kara O'Neal
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223216773

Kara O'Neal

Award-winning author, Kara O'Neal is a teacher and lives in Texas with her husband and three children. She writes stories with strong family ties, lots of romance and guaranteed happy endings! Visit her at www.karaoneal.com.

Book preview

Olivia’s Treasure

By

Kara O’Neal

––––––––

Gamblers & Gunslingers Series

OLIVIA’S TREASURE, 1st Edition

Copyright © 2023 Kara O’Neal

Published by Kara O’Neal

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Also by Kara O'Neal

Gamblers & Gunslingers

Katie's Gamble

Felicity's Fortune

Cora Lee's Wager

Olivia's Treasure

Joetta's Legacy

Everleigh's Game

Texas Brides of Pike's Run

Saving Sarah

Welcome Home

The Sheriff's Gift

The Cowboy's Charms

The Miller Brides

The Soldier's Love

Love's Promise

Love's Redemption

The Editor's Kisses

The Ranger's Vow

The Cowboy's Embrace

Destiny's Secrets

Mr. Pierce's Hero

The Christmas Bride

Maggie's Song

The Inventor's Heart

The Deputy's Damsel

An Unacceptable Wife

The Cowboy's Bride

The Princess's Knight

Sunshine's Welcome

Forever Home

Wildflowers of Texas

Miss Green Eyes (Coming Soon)

Watch for more at Kara O'Neal’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Kara O'Neal

Olivia's Treasure (Gamblers & Gunslingers, #4)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

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Also By Kara O'Neal

About the Author

Houston, Texas, 1882

After her father's death, Olivia Sullivan finds there’s no money, and she’s now the caretaker for her four younger sisters. In an instant, her comfortable life has disappeared, and now she spends twelve hours a day bent over a sewing machine in a boutique she used to patronize.

Kane Tucker lives life by his rules. Work is a waste of time. Nights were meant to be enjoyed with whiskey, cards, and women. But when he discovers Olivia Sullivan is stuck toiling day in and out, he can't help but want to assist his childhood friend.

Olivia wants nothing to do with Kane, especially since he fosters a careless and frivolous way of life. She has no time for fun though he insists on it. And when a mysterious gentleman comes calling, telling Olivia that she must pay off the astounding debt her father owed him, her situation becomes even more dire. Only the mystery of an amethyst necklace can save her and her sisters now, and while she goes on the hunt for treasure, Kane is right there beside her, stealing her heart and changing her mind.

For Janice and Karen

Your support and suggestions are invaluable.

Chapter One

HOUSTON, TEXAS

November, 1882

Three days.

Only three days.

Already it was too long and far too short.

Olivia Sullivan closed her eyes and breathed in the chill, evening air. She paused on the back stoop of Alarie’s Boutique, the vacant alley giving her a respite from people and the trouble they brought, and took a moment. She couldn’t cry. What good would it do?

She was dimly aware of the busy street to her right. Horses’ hooves clipped along the cobblestones. Wheels of buggies, carriages, carts, and wagons rumbled over the road. People were always moving. Money had to be made. Especially if you wanted to survive. And Olivia certainly wanted to live, and every step she took was for her four younger sisters.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes and uncurled her fist to assess the wages she’d earned for the week. Of course, the amount represented only three days of work, so next Saturday she would receive more. The total was meager, but they would learn to economize and become efficient. Somehow, she whispered to herself.

She stepped down onto the dirt path of the alley that ran between Alarie’s and a cigar and tobacco shop on Main Street. When she reached the busy road, she melded into the crowd, hopefully a nameless face. She couldn’t have anyone recognize her. She wasn’t ready for that conversation yet.

Keeping her head down, she strode in the direction of their home on Rusk Avenue. The wind cut through her, and she pulled the collar of her coat closer. She thought of home, the Victorian that held the family she loved so much. The family that was trying to adjust to the shock that had been delivered fifteen days ago. And then the second stunner four days after that.

Together, they could do what was needed. She hoped.

As her mind swirled with worries, concerns, and all that impeded comfort and happiness, the need for answers festered inside her. She quickened her pace, bypassing her normal route home and taking the bridge over Buffalo Bayou. Her detour wasn’t going to help, but she went anyway. Her heart grieved, and she needed something, anything, to repair it.

The arch for Glenwood Cemetery appeared, and she hastened beneath it, heading into the short grass and toward the newest marker. When she reached her destination, she stopped.

And as she had the other times she’d visited, she stared hard at the inscription. Because it couldn’t be her father.

But it was.

William Sullivan.

The man she’d admired so much was gone. In the blink of an eye, he’d been taken from them. A runaway horse had surprised him on his walk home from Jones and Morris, the law firm where he’d worked for many, many years. He’d died instantly.

Olivia bit her lip. So many questions threatened to spill forth, but what good would it do to say them aloud? He couldn’t answer back.

And at some point, she had to learn to stop asking why.

Why had God taken him? Why that way?

But, more importantly, why had there been no money? Where had it gone? Shouldn’t there have been some savings? Something to keep them afloat?

Anger surged through her, and she gritted her teeth, curled her hands into fists and pressed them into her stomach. She had to keep her distress buried. Better yet, she must get rid of it. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Her father had always provided for them. They’d never wanted for anything. He’d worked so hard. Dawn to dusk. A successful attorney. Sought after by many people and well-respected. The Sullivans had been a part of Houston society.

There’d been parties and socials, trips to the theater and sailing excursions on the bayou. And while the invitations still came, Olivia could no longer attend.

Because now she was the one who worked from dawn to dusk. But for much less money. She had no idea how they were going to survive.

And grieving in a cemetery wasn’t going to bring the answer.

She spun around and marched away.

It only took ten more minutes to reach home, and the yellow Victorian, with its white gingerbread, wrap-around porch, and front bay windows invited her in. She hurried up the steps and into the house.

The smell of ham reached her nose, and the sounds of arguing reached her ears. She sighed as she unbuttoned her coat. After hanging it up on the hall tree, she went through the front parlor where a warm fire smoldered in the box beneath the white, plaster mantle. Chintz fabric with blue, pale pink, and dark red daisies covered the Empire settee and chairs.

The pocket doors leading to the dining room were pushed open, and she hastened around the dining table for eight, then into the butler’s pantry. When she reached the kitchen, she found Rebecca glaring at Elizabeth, with her hands on her hips and a dish towel over her shoulder.

"I have a headache, Elizabeth declared, standing with her back to Olivia and her attention on Rebecca. I’ve told you that over and over today, and you haven’t listened once."

"You always have a headache. You—"

When Olivia’s step made a floorboard creak, Rebecca broke off and switched her focus to Olivia. Rebecca’s strawberry blonde brows lowered, and her shoulders slumped. You’re home.

With her chin raised, Elizabeth spun around to face Olivia. Rebecca has forced me to complete chores all day, and I’m not feeling well. She shoved a lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. I simply asked for a few moments of rest while she finished supper. Anne or Mary could’ve taken my place.

Olivia’s stomach clenched with upset. How she wished they’d been able to keep Glory, their housekeeper, but their funds hadn’t allowed it. Fortunately, Glory had been able to find new employment quickly, but that had left all household duties to Olivia and her sisters.

And Olivia couldn’t always help, as she spent twelve hours a day bent over a sewing machine. I’m sorry, Olivia began. But sometimes we have to work through feeling ill and—

Elizabeth made a noise of disgust and, without permission, stormed off.

Now Olivia felt tears threatening. She held her breath and forced the despair away.

Oh, Olivia. Rebecca came forward and put her arm around her shoulders. I wish she wasn’t so ungrateful.

Once she had control of herself, Olivia replied, She’s adjusting.

"We all are, Rebecca said firmly. She gave Olivia’s shoulder a squeeze, then moved back to the counter where food waited to be moved to platters and serving bowls. She seems to think she’s alone in her suffering."

Olivia moved to the cupboard, opened it, then pulled out plates. She hasn’t seen her friends in almost three weeks, and she’s missed two socials. She’s at that age where those sorts of things are still important.

Rebecca scoffed as she poured steaming butter beans into a bowl. "You’re twenty-two. You’re at the height of your youth, and you’re having to waste it in the back of a boutique making dresses and other articles of clothing for all our friends and their mothers."

I can’t feel sore about it. Olivia opened a drawer and pulled out silverware. She set the knives, forks, and spoons on the stack of plates. I don’t have time. At least you’re engaged, and it won’t be long before you’ll have a better income. Once I can build up our savings, I’ll worry about myself. Thank God we own the house. She moved to pick up the dinnerware, but Rebecca was suddenly at her side, cupping her upper arms and turning her square.

Rebecca gazed determinedly at her for a few quiet moments, then reached up and smoothed the auburn locks of Olivia’s bun. Her care was too much, and Olivia again had to hold herself firm to keep from breaking down. She drew strength from the warm brown eyes looking into hers that were also so like her own.

You’re allowed to worry for two more weeks, then, after that, you will start going out again. We might be poor and almost on the brink of starving, but we can still enjoy ourselves. She tipped her head toward Olivia. Barrett will help all of us. We’ll be fine.

Barrett O’Grady, Rebecca’s fiancé, managed his father’s accounting agency. He made a decent living and had given Olivia much needed advice on how to go forward. There was more to learn, though. He’s been kind, and his discretion has been much appreciated.

Rebecca lowered her arms. He loves me, but he loves y’all, as well. Come March, Barrett and I will become a unit, but we will not remain solitary. We’ll not desert y’all.

Olive smiled softly. I know that. Your loyalty, and his, is not something I’m concerned about. She picked up the plates. But I fully intend to find a better paying job at some point.

As she walked into the dining room, Rebecca called out, Or you could get married.

Olivia almost stumbled in fear at the thought.

Marriage.

She set out the plates and silverware and recalled the few dalliances she’d had. In those short interludes, she’d learned she wasn’t meant for teasing or flirting. She was too serious-minded. She preferred plain-speaking to insincere flowery compliments and empty promises.

And the one time she had allowed a gentleman to court her, she’d eventually discovered he’d used her to make another lady jealous. For one month, Andrew Ryland had paid special attention to Olivia, taking her to restaurants, the theater, and on carriage rides. The attention had successfully overwhelmed her and made her fall hard in love. But it had all been to capture the heart of someone else.

In his conquest, not only had he destroyed Olivia’s trust in the opposite sex, but in her own decision-making concerning affairs of the heart, as well. After her experience, when it came to love, she was not, and would never be, a risk-taker. And because of that, she doubted she would ever get married.

Not for love.

But...for convenience.

Her stomach rebelled, and she paused in her chore, pressing a curled fist against the anxiety and helplessness plaguing her. It would be difficult, but it might be the best way to save her family. After taking a deep breath, she resumed placing the silverware beside the plates.

Once she finished setting the table, she went into the butler’s pantry for napkins.

Rebecca came through carrying bowls of sides.

Still lost in thought, Olivia helped her sister put the meal on the table. Rebecca was two years younger than Olivia. They’d traveled in the same social circles. Barrett was Olivia’s age, and he’d been one of the kinder boys, so when Rebecca’s head had been turned by him, Olivia hadn’t been surprised.

Humming sounded in the parlor, and Olivia smiled to herself.

Anne entered, her auburn curls bouncing. Hello, she sing-songed. At thirteen, she wasn’t thinking too much about the parties she was missing. She wasn’t quite old enough yet to attend. Did you have a good day, Olivia?

Olivia stood behind her chair, propping a wrist on the carved, wooden edge. It was fine. Very productive. She thought of the wages still in her coat pocket. I’m glad tomorrow’s Sunday, and I can rest.

With a bright smile, Anne nodded. She sat and breathed in deep. Everything looks scrumptious.

Anne was the sister who had surprised the elders with her constant cheeriness. Olivia appreciated her attitude, but she had a feeling Anne exuded contentment so as not to be a burden. At some point, Olivia expected her to get tired of always being the happy one. Olivia would do everything she could to comfort her and perhaps stave off a bad episode.

Pounding feet sounded, and soon Mary came bounding in. The girl ran everywhere. Her strawberry blonde braids bounced against her white pinafore. Hello, Olivia. I finished all my homework.

Olivia smiled. Another dutiful sister. Good. That’ll give us time for bridge, won’t it?

Mary grinned happily.

Rebecca brought in the last dish, sweet corn with plenty of butter. All right. She glanced around and scowled.

With a sigh, Olivia said, I’ll get Elizabeth. She left the dining room, went back through the parlor and into the corridor. She took the steps, the cream wainscoting offsetting the green and gold damask wallpaper above it. She gave a single knock at Elizabeth’s door, the second on the right, and waited.

Movement sounded within, then her summons was answered by a tight-jawed Elizabeth.

Come down for supper.

It was a gentle order, but Elizabeth struggled anyway. She wanted to defy it, but Olivia knew she cared too much about their family to do so.

Without another word or command, Olivia waited.

Fine, Elizabeth said with her nose in the air. But I don’t feel well. She went past Olivia and moved toward the stairs.

I appreciate you making the effort, Olivia responded as she followed her.

Almost three weeks without their father. Seven years without their mother. And no money. Olivia could excuse, and would excuse, Elizabeth’s attitude. Lord knew Olivia had her own struggles with despair and self-pity. It was all understandable, and the only cure was to continue to function as a family. To put one foot in front of the other. To hope.

Renewed, Olivia entered the dining room, ignored the empty chairs, and led her sisters in grace.

SIX DAYS LATER

Kane Tucker checked his pocket watch. Five after six. Only a few more minutes and he’d get what he’d come for. With a grunt of satisfaction, he tucked his timepiece back into his dark green, brocade vest.

People darted past him as he lounged outside against the bricked front wall of the Houston Hotel where he’d been living for the last several months. Women eyed him as they went by, some giving him come hither glances. He smiled to himself, enjoying the attention.

But he couldn’t pursue any of them. Not today. He had to investigate an oddity that had been plaguing his thoughts for the last week.

Olivia Sullivan had marched past the Houston Hotel no more than ten minutes after six for the last five days. He’d seen her from his second-floor window each night. Her face and figure had always drawn his notice no matter what. He’d know her walk anywhere. He’d know her luscious auburn locks anywhere. Her voice...hell.

He removed his Stetson and shoved his fingers through his dark brown hair, struck by how his body responded to just the thought of her. They’d spent their school days together, and he’d bothered her often during lessons and lunch. She’d usually chosen to read beneath a shade tree, and he’d tried to upset her calm environment many times. That adorable scowl she’d get had always sent his pulse racing.

He was two years older than she, but she’d had more to show for their youth. Her marks had been higher, and because she was so smart, she’d been in the group above him for reading and level with him in mathematics. She’d astounded him. And she could play the piano. And sing.

The day she got married would be the day he might actually regret not being the settling kind.

The cold cut through him, and he shoved his hands in his pants’ pockets, his suit coat giving him only the barest respite. He supposed he should’ve grabbed his jacket before coming out, but, well, things like that he usually paid no mind to.

When a familiar figure broke through the crowd, his pulse surged, but he kept his relaxed pose. She usually didn’t like to be bothered by him and wore that scowl that tied his gut into knots whenever he did. Anticipation shot through him.

She came abreast of him, and he drawled, Evening, Livvy.

A light squeak came from her, and she spun toward him, her meltingly warm brown eyes wide with surprise. Oh! Kane! She put a hand to her chest. You startled me.

He pushed away from the wall and gave her a slow smile. Didn’t mean to. You’re so focused on your destination, though.

She lifted her chin, and the breeze caught some of the red tendrils that had escaped her bun. I’m in a hurry to get home. She gave an abrupt nod. So, if you don’t mind.

As she turned to go, he remarked dryly, You’ve been in a hurry the past five nights.

Her shoulders tensed, and she paused. With a shamed flush in her cheeks, she stammered, I-I...um...I’m h-having to...um...

Concern grew, and he moved closer to her. Why was she embarrassed? Is something wrong? But he should’ve guessed that. He’d already decided it was odd that she was marching down Houston’s busiest thoroughfare in the evening. Perhaps something had happened. Her father had passed away in a terrible accident about four weeks ago, so...

She swallowed, and a wall went up between them.

He sensed she guarded herself not because she was afraid of him, but afraid of revealing the trouble she was in. Livvy? he asked, worried, stepping closer.

She shook her head. I have to get home. She whipped around, but he was too alarmed to let her go alone.

He followed, jogging to catch up. I’ll just walk with you.

You don’t have to.

I want to.

I’ve never had a problem.

I realize that. But that didn’t mean she never would. And he didn’t like that something plagued her. She should always be happy. Singing, reading, attending parties, and being sparked. Why was she ashamed?

They said nothing more as they made their way through the streets to Rusk Avenue. They walked in sync while he tried to determine what could possibly trouble her.

It didn’t take long for her house to come into view, and when they reached the front steps, she said quickly, Thank you for your escort.

Livvy—

Good night, she interrupted with a jerk of her head, then scooted up to the porch then into the house.

What was wrong?

Confused and worried, he turned and walked slowly back to his hotel. As he made his way, his thoughts turned with possibilities.

Her father had passed away, leaving five daughters on their own. He’d been an attorney. A good one, if the talk was correct. He’d been a kind person and witty.

But there was one extra thing...

William Sullivan had been a gambler. Kane knew this because he was a gambler, as well. Occasionally they’d played at the same tables, mostly at Calvi’s, which was a gambling establishment disguised in a brick manse near the theater. Nicola Calvi ran high-stakes games. The wealthier members of society patronized it.

Kane did, as well, but not as often, as sometimes the pots were too rich for him. But maybe Sullivan had been a regular. And maybe...

He’d left his daughters penniless.

The thought struck Kane square in the chest, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. He had to talk to Livvy.

Chapter Two

After meeting Kane on the walk home the day prior, Olivia decided to use a different route the following day. He’d been outside the Houston Hotel, so perhaps he was living there. She hadn’t heard that, or at least she hadn’t remembered. She made sure to bypass it this time and would do the same in the future.

He’d quickly picked up on her discomfiture, but then she hadn’t been surprised. He was good at reading people, and he’d wanted to know what was wrong. That had been kind of him, and the concern in his tone had made her chest tighten with yearning.

Which had alarmed her. Her stomach had churned with anxiety that she wouldn’t make it inside without breaking down. And Kane Tucker was not someone she could lean on. He was friendly, though he’d aggravated her on purpose when they were in school, and might have done what he could to comfort her, but he wouldn’t understand.

Because, for Kane, life was always fun. He was always looking for a good time, and he usually found it. He spent his evenings in saloons and at gambling tables. He didn’t have a serious, settled bone in his body.

It wouldn’t be a good idea to confide in him. Not that she wanted to tell anyone her troubles. She hoped she’d be able to find a way out for her family before people learned of their dire straits. She needed to sit down with Barrett and determine how best to increase her wages. That was for tomorrow, Sunday. Right now, she needed to get home and help Rebecca and Elizabeth get supper on the table.

When she rounded the corner and her haven came into a view, she grew alarmed by an unfamiliar, closed coach sitting outside. A driver perched smartly in his seat and looked straight ahead.

Olivia gazed up at him, a little in awe of his pristine suit and correct posture.

He didn’t glance down.

Because he didn’t seem willing to notice her, she didn’t call out to him. Instead, she glanced inside the conveyance, glad the shades were up. But no one sat within.

She whipped around. Were they in the house?

Anxious, she flew down the walk and up the steps. She didn’t pause as she blew inside. Rebecca! Elizabeth!

Oh, Olivia! Rebecca exclaimed, sounding harried. She darted from the parlor toward Olivia. We have a visitor, she whispered, her tone more frightened than Olivia had ever heard it.

Who?

Rebecca swallowed. Nicola Calvi.

Bewildered, Olivia reared back. I have no idea who he is.

Nor I, and he won’t state his business to us. He’s only said that he needs to speak to you.

What could this possibly be? Rebecca’s fearful expression only heightened Olivia’s disquiet.

But she must handle this. Whatever it was. After removing her coat, she handed it to Rebecca then squared her shoulders. With calm steps, she entered the parlor, and their visitor rose.

He was a tall man. Thin. He wore an impeccable gray suit that had a light sheen to it. She’d never seen a celluloid collar so white, and his diamond cufflinks and tie clasp glittered in the light from the gas lamps. Good evening, Miss Sullivan. He gave a slight bow, leaning on a cane with a diamond knob, while he held his hat and gloves with his free hand.

Good evening...Mr. Calvi, I believe?

Yes. Nicola Calvi, at your service. He straightened, and the fire in the hearth made his salt and pepper hair shine.

Somehow, she doubted he was here to serve her. Movement to her left caught her eye. Elizabeth stood near the entrance to the dining room, and her gaze was glued to the obviously wealthy, mysterious gentleman in their parlor. It was as if she were frozen with fright.

Olivia had to take control. She sensed Rebecca behind her, as well. Linking her hands in front of her, she said, Please, sit, Mr. Calvi. Rebecca, Elizabeth, finish supper, but close the doors to the dining room. As her sisters moved to obey, their sharp steps hitting the wood floors, Olivia lowered herself to the chair across from Mr. Calvi. How may I help you?

He smiled politely, though she sensed a snake lurked behind