by Lauren Canan
With the spider out of the picture and adrenaline no longer pumping through her veins, she felt more than a little foolish. She shouldn’t let her phobias overrule her common sense.
A couple of feet from his truck, Cole paused. Tallie waited for the reprimand to come, for him to call her every kind of fool. But no words came.
She watched his eyes as he scanned her face, his intense expression a mixture of concern and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on. His lips, full and sensuous, were so close. For one crazy minute she thought he was going to kiss her and her breathing all but stopped. Then he turned away, pulled open the door and set her down on the passenger seat. Tallie sat, holding her shirt and jeans against her chest.
Within minutes Cole pulled up in the parking area near his house. They both got out of the truck and headed inside, past the enormous pool and waterfall.
The house was massive. The den was big enough to land one of his helicopters with room to spare. The walls were natural wood up to the third-story ceiling with an impressive natural-stone fireplace serving as the wall between the den and the kitchen.
Tallie followed him up a curving staircase. On the second floor they walked silently down a long hallway until he stopped and opened a door on the right. At that point, she lost the ability to describe the beauty of the room in front of her. It was carpeted in soft cream with walls painted to match; all of the accents, including the crown molding, internal doors and the fireplace mantel were mahogany. The king-size poster bed with its intricate scrollwork matched perfectly.
“The towels are in the cabinet, as are the shampoos and bath salts. Come downstairs when you’re finished. Andre is just starting supper, so take as long as you want.”
She nodded, noticing the sparkle in his eyes that lit his handsome face. His full lips were pursed as though he was holding back a grin.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
The bathroom boasted a huge whirlpool tub and a brown marble shower that could probably fit ten people. She had read about these thermostatic shower systems. This one had six shower heads plus a bench and steam jets that could turn it into a sauna. There were dual sinks in the same brown marble. The cabinets contained all the basic necessities: towels, washcloths, shampoo and soap. A lower drawer held an assortment of clean black and navy T-shirts, all size XXL.
Selecting one of the washcloths and a towel, she managed to turn on the water in the shower. Quickly stripping off her bra and panties, she stepped under the warm spray, languishing in the wonderful feel of it cascading down over her shoulders and back.
As much as Tallie would have liked to prolong this moment, she didn’t intend to outstay her welcome. She washed, lathered then rinsed her hair, and turned off the water. Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dried herself. She hated putting on the same dirty clothes, and still wasn’t convinced the spider had vacated her pants. Could she borrow one of Cole’s tees?
She pulled a navy blue T-shirt from the drawer and quickly pulled it on over her head. It reached to her knees. Feeling adequately covered, she gathered her dirty clothes into a bundle, hung the towel to dry, combed her hair and went downstairs to the den.
Settling on the oversize sofa, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. It was then the nausea hit, hard and fast. She ran back up the stairs and into the bathroom she’d just used, not stopping until she was standing in front of the toilet. She hated the daily sickness. Hopefully when she went into her second trimester it would stop. She thought back to how Dr. Sterling had tried to talk her out of coming here, concerned about her safety. But Tallie wouldn’t break the promise she’d made to her grandmother. She reasoned that wherever she was, she would still be sick.
The bout of sickness over, she rinsed her mouth then took a cooling sip of water. Better. She grabbed a new toothbrush from inside the cabinet and brushed her teeth, hoping it was over for the day.
She couldn’t blame anyone but herself for her condition. When you got tipsy in New Orleans and were approached by the man of your dreams, this was what could happen. And in her case, it had happened. But even when the doctor had confirmed her condition, she’d still had a tough time grasping it. A baby. A tiny new soul.
The one thing that still angered her was how the man had just disappeared before the sun rose the next morning, not giving her a chance to learn his identity. Just who in the hell did he think he was to degrade her in such a manner?
Cole was waiting for her when she returned to the den.
“Can I get a ride back from you?”
He stood staring at her for the longest time. “Are you ill?”
She shrugged and prayed he couldn’t see the blush that crossed her face. “Just a bug I picked up somewhere. It’s better now.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? We have plenty of room.”
“Thank you, but I would prefer to return to the little cabin. I can walk if you don’t have the time.”
“Walk? Through a mile of trees and wheat until you find another spider or stumble over a snake?” He shook his head at the idea. “If you insist on going, let’s go.”
With a small white bag holding her clothes, she followed Cole out to his truck.
“You do know that attempting to live in that old shack puts you in every kind of danger. Why don’t you just pack it in for now and come back in the fall when the weather is cooler and there are a lot fewer bugs? The camping conditions will be better.”
In the fall Tallie would be caring for her newborn baby.
“I’m afraid I have other commitments then,” she said. “Besides, by then I won’t have access to the area. We both know as soon as I leave construction will commence.”
He didn’t argue with her. Masters just wanted her gone and apparently he would say or do anything to achieve it.
* * *
The next morning she had just finished dressing when she heard the sound of men’s voices coming from the direction of the dig site. She stepped outside onto the cabin’s porch and, sure enough, there were three men with shovels standing around the dig. She pulled on her boots and headed in their direction. Before she could close the distance, the men put their shovels to good use.
She broke into a jog. As she grew closer she saw where they had already churned her carefully laid out site in three different directions.
“Stop! Please stop!” she called out as she got to the men, who immediately halted their digging. “What are you doing? Who are you?”
One of the men removed his hat. “We work for the Circle M Ranch. Cole sent us up here to help you out. He said take some shovels and dig at the spot you had marked out.”
“If you aren’t careful, you might destroy something that’s hundreds if not thousands of years old. What I’m looking for...it’s very old and fragile.”
The man who’d spoken looked at the other two and they all shrugged. “We’re just doing what we were told to do, ma’am.”
“And unless we hear differently from our boss, we have to keep digging,” the second man chimed in.
“That’s ridiculous.” She faced the third man, who appeared to be the oldest of the three. “I’ll go and speak with Mr. Masters. Until this is straightened out, please stop digging.”
The first man put his cowboy hat back on and looked at the other two. “I’m not sure Cole is here. He was going to fly into Dallas. You may have missed him. But we’ll wait an hour or so to give you a chance to talk with him. After that, we pretty much have to follow his orders.”
She turned and hurried up the hill to her Ford wagon. She would tell Masters exactly what he could do with his orders. Normally a careful driver, she slammed her foot down on the accelerator and the old vehicle fishtailed several times before she reached the paved road leading to the mansion on the hill. How could he do this?
When she
reached the parking area she hopped from her old Ford car and jogged toward the mansion.
After several frantic rings of the bell, a housekeeper answered the door. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Mr. Masters just left. He’s headed for the airstrip some distance behind the barn. Don’t know if you can catch him, but it’s that way if you want to try.” She pointed toward the large barn and stables.
With quick thanks thrown over her shoulder, Tallie got back in her vehicle and headed out of the parking area. Following the directions, she almost immediately spotted the private air strip and the giant warehouse that housed the planes. There appeared to be only one thing in motion: a helicopter on the far left of the airfield with MASTERS CORPORATION on the side. As she got closer she could see Cole at the controls. He was writing something on a notepad and hadn’t seen her approach. Tallie pulled up close to the helipad just as the rotor blade increased its speed. Knowing what was at stake, she leaped from her wagon car, ran to the chopper and pulled open the door.
The look on Cole’s face was a mix of surprise, frustration and anger. Tallie silently glared at him. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. With obvious reservations he shut off the motor and the blades slowed. Pulling off the headset, he tossed it on the seat next to him and got out of the chopper. He was not happy. But neither was she.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he bellowed as he reached her side of the helicopter.
“I might ask you the same question.”
“You could have been killed.”
“So what would you care?” Tallie was so furious her hands were held in tightly formed fists at her sides. “You send three of your ranch hands to my dig to destroy it. Then you sneak out so I can’t contact you. You’ve reached a new low, Masters.”
“I was trying to offer you some help,” he argued. “And I’ve never snuck away from anything.”
She could tell that her accusation had hit the target. She had him on the defensive, which was good. “I’ve already told you it takes time and patience to extract the soil. You chop up a five-thousand-year-old artifact and it’s game over. If that happens, this would all be for nothing. My time here meaningless. And the delay to your project pointless, as well.”
“It appears to me that’s already the case.”
“You just don’t get it. Is it that you don’t want to understand or are you incapable of understanding?”
“Dr. Finley—”
“You did this on purpose. You might have destroyed an invaluable historical object. You didn’t even tell your employees what they were doing. Just to dig. I hope you aren’t that sloppy directing your companies.”
That appeared to hit the nail squarely on the head. His eyes narrowed while his jaw muscles worked overtime; no doubt he was biting his tongue.
“So, what do you want, Dr. Finley? I’m late for a meeting in Dallas.”
She coughed out a sarcastic laugh. “You have to ask? You have three cowboys with shovels digging up my site. Figure it out. Tell them to stop. Tell them to go away. Would you like for me to write it down for you? Do I need to lead you by the hand? Tell them to go mend a fence or shoe a horse or something.”
Cole shook his head, not bothering to try to hide his frustration. “Fine. If you will kindly step back from the aircraft, I’ll tell them to stop digging.”
“I’ll be watching.”
“I’m sure you will.” The sarcasm was heavy in his tone. She didn’t care. Not knowing if she could trust him after this stunt, she returned to the wagon and backed away from the helipad but waited to see which direction he would go. Within minutes the chopper lifted off and made a beeline for the dig site where it made a perfect landing. Cole was talking to the men as she pulled up next to the old shack.
He saw her and walked to the helicopter before she could get there. It lifted off and headed south toward Dallas, the rotors slapping the air like thunder in the sky. The men were already putting their shovels and other tools back in their truck. “Ma’am,” the older cowboy said and nodded before he turned and walked to their pickup. Soon Tallie was left alone with only the birds to keep her company.
She didn’t believe for a second that Cole had done this to help her. He’d thought he could sabotage her into leaving. He could think again. He had started a war and made it worse by making her miss her morning tea, and that was an unforgivable offense. She picked up her shovel and began the daunting task of checking for any destruction and ensuring no artifacts were embedded in the churned soil.
After many hours, she was convinced she’d been lucky. She emptied shovelful after shovelful into the sifter. There were arrowheads, broken pieces of pottery, a few beads made within the past few hundred years and not evidence of the lost tribe she was looking for, which was much older. The digging didn’t seem to have caused any damage, though. She logged each one, took a picture and noted the day and time and other facts about each piece in her journal. She might be wrong about the date of the pieces but she didn’t think so.
The sun was setting behind the far hills when the last sifting was completed. She would have to wait until the morning to outline a new grid. Trudging back to the cabin she fell onto the rickety old bed and kicked off her boots. Exhaustion propelled her to sleep with one last thought: what would Cole Masters try to pull tomorrow?
Five
It was a feeling rather than a sound that woke Tallie from a deep sleep. Her eyes opened just enough that she could tell it was before dawn. She felt eyes on her. Slowly sitting up, she looked out the door opening. A cow was standing in the doorway. Before she could pull on some jeans, another cow poked his head in over the first. Then a third came in low, as if to see what the other two had found.
“Shoo!” she screeched, stomping her foot at the heifers in the doorway. Her actions had no effect.
She swung a piece of cardboard at them and finally they took the hint and moved back. How many cows were there? Ten—at least—standing around the old shack. Slipping on her jeans and boots, she readied for war. Reaching back to her bedroll, she grabbed the white sheet from inside. Waving it and shouting “shoo” and “get out” finally caused a reaction. The entire group headed away from the cabin toward a fence with a wire gate half off its hinges. The cows kept going. When all were through the partial opening, Tallie quickly closed the gate. She hoped they weren’t hurt by the wire but dreaded to see the damage they had caused to her camp and the dig site.
An hour later she was still picking up pieces of garbage from the bright blue barrels that had been overturned on the porch. She didn’t know how much time it took to clean up all the mess. Only one thing she knew for sure: this was Cole Masters’s doing. He was behind it. She couldn’t prove it, but she knew it all the same.
She was sitting on the ramshackle porch still rolling up the last of the orange twine when she heard a pickup come down the path.
“Good morning, Dr. Finley,” Cole said as he exited the truck.
She glared at him. If she opened her mouth she would chew him up and spit him out.
“So, how is your day?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know if you saw them, but about a dozen heifers with cuts and scratches showed up at the barn. Looks like they were run through a fence. I don’t suppose you would know anything about that?”
She shrugged again. “Can’t say I do. I’ve been right here, on the property, all morning. No cows are allowed in this area, isn’t that what you told me?”
His jaw worked overtime. He’d been caught in a trap of his own making.
“Yeah.” He stared, suspicion marring his handsome features. “That’s what I said.”
“If I see a cow within the borders of the dig site, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“You do that.” He sounded skeptical. “What happened to your string?”<
br />
She shrugged her shoulders. “Part of it unraveled.” She stated the obvious. Of course, it had had a bit of help. “Are you on some sort of leave? I mean I haven’t seen you go to work but a couple of times since I’ve been here.”
“You think I need to go to Dallas and work?”
“Well, Dallas or New York...wherever you have offices.” She shrugged again. “It just seems odd to me that you’re spending so much time out here worrying about cows and directing your ranch hands to ‘help’ me. That can’t be very profitable.”
She set the roll of string aside, leaned back against one of the posts supporting the roof over the porch and looked at him.
“I originally intended to use this period to oversee the initial phase of construction on my project and, as you know, that has been...postponed. So now I have free time to check on you and your progress. I see you sitting back rolling up a ball of string and I get curious. Shouldn’t you be grabbing your little rake and brushing at dirt?”
Tallie’s nostrils flared in anger. She wasn’t a violent person, but in her mind’s eye she could see her hand popping him on the back of his head for all of his lamebrained failed attempts to make her leave. “All in good time. It sounds like you’re preoccupied with shutting me down.” She looked at him and forced a smile. “I wouldn’t go to too much trouble. I’m pretty stubborn as well as resilient.”
He muttered something she couldn’t understand before turning and walking toward his truck. And Tallie patted herself on the back for winning another round with the stubborn billionaire.
* * *
The days stretched into weeks and Tallie still hadn’t found any proof of an ancient tribe. She was frustrated and tired of being sick. Every day. The morning sickness visited her in the afternoon now.
One morning during her fifth week on site, Tallie stretched and yawned as the sun rose over the distant hills. The past month had reminded her of both the positive and negative aspects of being on a dig. She felt soreness in her entire body. Concern for the baby made her slow down and take short breaks more often. Even if she ran out of time and found nothing, her ipokini would have understood.
