Conard County Watch

by Rachel Lee

  “It was beautiful. What was it?”

  Instead he looked at Cope. “And you, too?”

  “Yeah, what got you guys all wound up?”

  “It’s simple. Hearing a flute on Thunder Mountain is reserved for certain people. You’re not among those people. Therefore, a person was playing a flute up there somewhere, and no one should be.”

  Cope levered himself into an upright sitting position. Renee leaned forward.

  “What are you saying?” Cope asked.

  “It’s mystical,” Gray Cloud said quietly. “When one of us comes up here to complete a vision quest, we know we have finished because we hear the flute. It is how we know that our vision is complete and correct. I have myself heard the flute twice. But that’s not what happened this evening. Neither of you should have heard the flute. That means it wasn’t spiritual, it was man-made.”

  He paused. “And while I’m reluctant to say it, since the music was so accurate, it must have been played by one of my people.”

  Renee’s heart started to gallop. “What? But why?” For the first time she wished he’d told her it was indeed just supernatural, that the mountain occasionally made music. She could have lived with that more easily than the idea that someone had deliberately gone up there to play what she suspected was a sacred melody. That seemed somehow sinister. A magic mountain would be easier to accept, which seemed ridiculous after yesterday, but there it was. Her scientific self was beginning to lose ground to a more primitive state of mind.

  She didn’t like the feeling.

  “I don’t know why,” Gray Cloud answered. “I’d hate to think one of my people would treat the sacred in such a profane way, but in the end, we’re just people like everyone else, and our motives aren’t always the best.”

  Shifting, he straightened enough to give his knees something of a break, then settled cross-legged on the gravel facing them. With his hands, he picked up two stones and tossed them back and forth.

  “It is said the flute can be a warning,” he remarked a few minutes later. “A warning to those who can hear that the mountain is about to shrug. Like it did when it opened this cleft. I heard the flute before this happened. Because of it, I was on the lookout for a change when I found this place.”

  Renee’s skin prickled a little. “Do you think...?”

  Gray Cloud shook his head. “I’m more inclined to think that an individual would like to create that impression. The mountain opened this ravine. No reason to suppose it wants to close it or shrug you folks off here. That landslide was manmade, which speaks for itself. If the mountain wanted this dig stopped, you wouldn’t even be able to find these fossils again. They’d disappear into deeper rock as if they’d never been.”

  Renee glanced at Cope, uncertain what to make of this. She gathered that Gray Cloud was sharing something very sacred to him, but she was having a hard time with it anyway. Cope, however, listened intently. Apparently, his mind had been opened quite a bit.

  Gray Cloud dropped the rocks. They hit with a quiet click. Above, a wind started to blow, filling the night with the sound of swaying treetops, sometimes a loud whisper, other times accompanied by a cracking sound as limbs bent a bit too far. Looking upward, Renee saw that the stars had disappeared, which somehow made it all feel creepier, as if she’d slid into another dimension.

  “The weather tonight won’t be bad,” Gray Cloud said as if he noticed her upward look. “Colder, but not bad. No rain, no snow.” Then he looked at Renee. “Maybe two, three years ago, someone wanted to buy our lands on this mountain. There was talk of a resort, but I never believed it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’ve been a lot of efforts over the years to build a resort in the mountains south of here, just on the other side of the national forest land. It’s never panned out.” He smiled faintly. “It seems like the mountains have opinions there, too.”

  Nervous or not, she had to smile in answer.

  “Anyway,” Gray Cloud continued, “in this case I didn’t put much stock in the story, the tribe turned down the offer, and the man left. I thought that was the end of it. Maybe it wasn’t. Claudia mentioned some precious mineral up here.”

  “Promethium,” Renee answered. “She didn’t seem to think the area was good for mining it.”

  “A full survey hasn’t been conducted,” Cope reminded her. “There could be a vein big enough to make tearing up this mountain worthwhile. Even if someone’s after a rare earth, this could only be a part of it, don’t you think? I don’t know exactly how big the tribal lands on the mountain are, but if you have a big enough vein, maybe...” He stopped, then shook his head. “I need to remind myself I’m a history professor, not a geologist. Claudia’s the one to ask about all this.”

  “And all of this might have nothing to do with these so-called rare earths,” Gray Cloud said. “That landslide indicates only one thing—someone wants your team out of here, Renee. Maybe they’re after the fossils. Maybe the fossils will get in their way somehow. That’s all we can safely guess.”

  He drew a long breath and closed his eyes, seeming to fill himself with something. “We’ll find out. The mountain will keep you safe tonight.”

  Great, thought Renee, then felt shame. She knew how dear these beliefs were to her cousin’s husband. She didn’t want to disparage them. But trust the mountain to keep her safe?

  She didn’t think she was quite ready for that.

  * * *

  Later that night, as the cold seemed to creep down the mountain, bringing with it a stiff breeze, Renee shivered inside her sleeping bag. Okay, she was a fool. If she’d stayed below, the tent would have protected her from the wind at least. There could have been a fire if they needed the extra warmth. Or she could have climbed into her car and headed for town.

  Instead she was preoccupied, chained, obsessed with that damn egg. She definitely needed her head examined.

  A hand gripped her shoulder. “If this weren’t stony ground, we’d all be shaking,” she heard Cope say quietly. “You can’t sleep like this.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “Ah, cut it out,” he retorted almost sternly. “You ever heard of bundling? I’m going to zip these two bags together so we can share heat. It’d be good for everyone if you’re awake tomorrow.”

  She didn’t argue. She was shivering strongly enough that she wondered if she’d be able to stand when he zipped the bag open. But he was good at this, somehow, and no sooner was she unzipped, he’d zipped his own bag to hers, all without asking her to move more than a few inches. He tucked their pillows in close together, managed to tighten the bags around them, and the next thing she knew, she was wrapped in his arms.

  “Hate to tell you this,” he murmured in her ear as they spooned, “but it would be a lot warmer in here if we weren’t wearing all this cold-weather gear.”

  “What are you suggesting?” she asked, her teeth chattering.

  “Not a damn thing. Just stating facts. We’re dressed for the arctic, and all this clothing is trying to hold our body heat in.”

  She heard a zipper, then felt the unmistakable cloud of warmth reach her cheek. “Jacket undone,” he said. “That should help.”

  “I should do mine,” she admitted. Because she knew he was right.

  “Are your fingers working well enough?”

  Before she could answer, she felt his hand reaching for her zipper. “Allow me, madam. You’d look awfully odd frozen next to your egg in the morning.”

  He was keeping it light, but the feelings flowing through her were anything but. As warmth inside the bags increased, she grew steadily more aware of him, of his proximity, of his large hand resting against her midriff. Heaven. And if it weren’t so darn cold, she might be thinking of turning toward him and...

  Her brain stuttered right there. Sex? She was neither good nor experienced in that arena. Good thing she was
too cold, because she might make a fool of herself.

  His head was close to hers, and she could feel his warm breath trailing across her cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began to wish she were another person in another place with this man where she could cast aside all her hang-ups and just be a woman. Just a woman.

  She had the feeling he might actually make her glad of her gender for the first time since childhood. Might make her feel strong and powerful, not weak and out of place.

  With him holding her, it was hard to ignore the drumbeat of desire growing in her blood, the way her breath constricted almost as if she were afraid a small movement might cause him to remove his arm.

  Focus on the dig, she told herself, a mantra she repeated over and over again. Focus on the dig.

  But her body seemed to have other things in mind.

  * * *

  Cope felt Renee gradually relaxing and hoped she would soon fall asleep. The woman had been driving him nuts since he’d first set eyes on her, and holding her like this was akin to torture.

  Although he had to admit that torture would at least keep him awake. He wasn’t planning to close his eyes tonight. And it had the advantage of being sweet torture.

  Since he had little enough to do at the moment except listen and remain alert, and he didn’t want to think about Renee for fear he’d quit listening, stop paying attention and pursue lovemaking with her, he turned his thoughts around.

  Instead of Renee, he considered his position, a good one. The ease with which he could slide out of the sleeping bag. Very easy since he hadn’t zipped his side more than partway.

  And why the hell was he once again in this position? He’d had enough, hence abandoning his military career and turning to teaching. Now here he was, sentinel on a rock, listening for an enemy he knew nothing about and didn’t know would even come.

  Dark memories wanted to swim through the dark night, inkier than black, like shades. He often counted his dead, but tonight would not be a good night for that. He had a woman to protect. Oh yeah, and an egg, too.

  She’d mentioned that she might be a little obsessed, and he guessed it was possible, but she might well be sitting on the find of the century. Of course she didn’t want anything to happen to it.

  He didn’t have to be a paleontologist to recognize how much could be learned from that damn egg. Or to appreciate it. A window into saurian reproduction. Possibly a view into how they lived. She said she thought they lived in family groups. At least this kind, whatever it was.

  In his mind, anyway, it created quite a different image of that era than the usual dog-eat-dog, solo predators and solo grazers. From what she had said, he guessed they hadn’t really found enough fossils to draw hard and fast conclusions about much. It was probably a continually changing field of study.

  He seemed to remember a discussion back when about whether these animals were truly cold-blooded. Or something. His memory was fuzzy at best because the subject hadn’t held his interest at that time. Back then, he’d left dinosaurs in his childhood.

  Now he was smack-dab in the middle of a truly exciting exploration, and he wasn’t bored with dinosaurs now.

  If Renee was obsessed with that egg, he was getting there himself. And if the hints of various fossils poking out of that rock face were a good indicator, this might be a find of the decade. Or maybe century.

  Their body heat had turned the shelter of the sleeping bags into a warm cocoon. The night was so dark he couldn’t see a damn thing except from the corners of his eyes. Survival, to be able to detect motion with peripheral vision in the dark.

  Anybody who came up here was going to need a flashlight or night-vision goggles. Given all the gravel, he doubted anyone could approach without making plenty of noise.

  So they were safe.

  Except he didn’t feel like it. He half wished the wolf would return, because then he could tell himself they were being watched by an animal.

  * * *

  Damn, it was getting cold. Stockman, sitting about ten feet up in a pine tree, shivered in the darkness, his night-vision goggles pushed back on his head. Did he really have to stay out here watching two people sleep?

  But the boss was starting to put the pressure on. He didn’t want them dead, but he wanted them gone.

  That was beginning to sound to Stockman like a sideways order. Broadus wanted them dead. That was what he was really saying.

  So why didn’t the jackass just come out and say it? Stockman was not the brightest bulb, but he could read between most lines, and what he was reading here was that Broadus wanted people dead, but he didn’t want to say it. Maybe because then he could deny it to himself, assure himself that Stockman had gone over the top.

  Mind games. Stockman hated them. Worse, those mind games had him sitting in a tree on the side of this godforsaken mountain in cold weather that would have pleased a polar bear, watching two people sleep.

  That sure made sense.

  Then that flute earlier. What the hell had that been? It had sure galvanized them like a fire had been lit under them. Damn spooky mountain.

  Broadus had said that someone else up here wanted these diggers gone, too. So maybe that was who played the flute. Sure, playing the flute was really likely to scare anyone away.

  He was angry about the way the rockslide had worked out, too. If that one guy hadn’t been injured, he doubted anyone would have looked closely enough to know it was no accident. There’d have been no cops.

  Now, whatever he did, he had to be extra careful because the cops were alerted.

  His head jerked back, banging the tree trunk. There it was again, that weird flute. It sounded as if it had gotten closer to him. Nah, that was just the darkness. Anyway, what did he have to fear from someone running around with a flute? Musical battery?

  His own wit amused him, but only briefly. Here he was, sitting out here freezing so he could watch two people sleep. And try to come up with a way to scare them off. He really didn’t want to kill them, but he supposed he might have to kill at least a few.

  The thought soured his stomach. He hated having to do that.

  Then some pebbles rattled. He could see nothing so he pulled on the night-vision goggles...and he could still see nothing.

  Probably a deer, he told himself.

  Until one of those small rocks came flying out of the darkness and hit the side of his head.

  He looked around quickly. He should have been able to see anything with a smidgeon of warmth to it. All he saw was an owl. It stared back at him, then hooted.

  Okay, he could take a hint. Shimmying down the tree, Stockman headed downhill at an angle to get to his truck. A couple of miles. Not too bad with these goggles.

  A half hour later, the ground gave way beneath his feet and he found himself standing in a hole waist-deep. Probably dug and forgotten by some long-ago hunter, Stockman thought.

  But the thought was not reassuring. It felt like this damn mountain was trying to get rid of him.

  Which of course it was not. Mountains were just heaps of rock.

  After pulling himself out of the hole with some difficulty, he continued walking, alert for anything alive. The woods tonight were devoid of life except for that owl. How weird was that?

  Without realizing it, he quickened his pace as much as he dared.

  He was beginning to feel hunted.

  Chapter 11

  In the morning, Renee stirred as the cold began to reach her. Cope was gone, she realized, and sat up to look around. He was a few feet away, nursing a small fire into life. Warmth.

  God, she felt like she might never get warm again. The light of the rising sun was barely reaching them, casting a pinkish glow overhead. Making the trees look as if they had changed color overnight.

  As cold snaked around her neck, she realized her jacket was still unzipped. Quick
ly, she remedied that, but kept the sleeping bag around her legs.

  “Good morning,” Cope said. “Sorry to be so early. I tried not to wake you.”

  “I got cold,” she answered honestly. “And you don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the idiot who wanted to spend the night out here.”

  “I don’t think you were being an idiot.”

  “You’re just being nice.”

  His expression changed, and she almost shivered. She saw then the man who had gone to war and fought. The man who was capable of things she couldn’t even imagine. There was steel in that look, steel and something darker. Then the expression eased away, but not entirely. “Don’t call yourself an idiot.”

  That sounded like an order. Maybe it was. She just plain didn’t know how to react. God, it was like finding a snake with two heads. This man had a whole side he’d never shown her.

  “Anyway, it’s a good thing we stayed up here. I heard the flute again.”

  “My God,” she said. “It was so cold last night, I can’t imagine anyone running around just to do that.”

  “Me neither, but there have been a lot of things I couldn’t imagine that came to pass.” He now had a decent flame licking upward and fueled it with just a few more dry pieces of wood. “This isn’t going to be a big fire. I don’t want to do a lot of damage to what’s under it. I tried to clear the space.” He shrugged, then smiled at her. “But, lady, I ain’t no paleontologist. Right now I could be roasting dino’s knuckles.”

  “We need the heat, and I’m sure you cleared everything away that you could. If you got dino’s knuckles, they won’t be the first fossils blackened by a little soot. Worse things have happened, like soot on walls of ancient Egyptian tombs, covering the paintings.”

  “Now that’s a crime.” Seemingly satisfied, he worked his way over to her. “I have some coffee in my pocket and I brought a small pan up here with me. If you don’t mind ignoring the grounds, I can make us some coffee.”

  “That sounds like heaven, grounds and all,” she admitted. “I think my teeth are decent strainers.”