by Rachel Lee
That caused him to grin.
He’d lugged a gallon jug of water up with everything else last night, and he used that to make the coffee. Soon the delicious aroma was wafting among the scents of pine needles and loam.
“This place is close to perfection,” she remarked as he offered her a tin cup full of steaming brew. “It’s so peaceful, and watching the sunlight slowly paint the treetops and then dive into the lower places... How much more beauty could a person ask for?”
“Not much,” he agreed as he sat beside her. “Is the warmth from the fire reaching you?”
“It’s starting to. The coffee’s doing a better job.” Holding it in both cold hands helped warm her. Then she remembered something he’d said almost as if in passing. “You heard the flute again?”
“Yes, I did. In the wee hours, maybe an hour or so before the sun came up.”
“Who in the world would be running around in the dead of night?”
He just shook his head. But of course, what could he say to that?
“Sorry,” she said. “We went all over this ground last night when Gray Cloud was here. I must sound like a broken record, asking questions we don’t have answers to.”
“No broken record,” he said easily. “You think those same questions aren’t running around inside my head? All you’re doing is saying what I’m thinking.”
“Still, it has to be tiresome.” Gingerly she moved, wondering how stiff she would be from the cold. Cope had kept her warm last night or she doubted she would have slept at all. But now that she was awake, the cold was penetrating her bones, and she wondered what had ever made her think it would be warm at this time of year.
“Some spring,” she remarked. “All we need are some snowflakes.”
“It feels that way, doesn’t it? When I got here I was warned that it could get seriously cold at almost any time of year. I was regaled with stories of snow in July.”
“Make you wanna turn tail?”
He laughed. “I’m still here. Besides, the mountains in Afghanistan weren’t exactly warm all the time. And more than once I saw snow in the summer. The higher elevations lend themselves to it.”
He rose and went to the nearby fire to get more coffee. “Dump out the cold stuff,” he said. “I’ve got plenty here for a few more cups, grounds included.”
The refreshed hot cup felt good in her hands. “The team won’t be up here for a while. Not if they feel this cold. I can’t blame them, either.”
“Maybe they’ll even bring pastries for you.”
“That could get to be an expensive habit,” she answered with a smile, even though her cheeks felt almost too frozen to move. “You know, I’m beginning to feel naive.”
“Really? How so?” He sat beside her again.
“All I ever had to deal with before was interpersonal politics. This goes beyond anything I ever imagined except in a movie or novel. Someone actually tried to hurt us or stop us. And they chose a very dangerous way to do it. I don’t care that it was at the far end and probably not intended to hurt anyone. The fact is, they did it and couldn’t guarantee no one would be injured or killed. I mean, no one can knock down a part of a cliff and control the results unless they’re a practiced road crew. Now we’ve got a mad flute player running around in the woods who probably wants to scare us off by making us think there are ghosts out there, or the mountain is yammering at us...” She trailed off. She was getting perilously close to losing it, and she definitely didn’t want that.
Despite the comfort and warmth of Cope holding her throughout the night, she guessed that something, probably nerves, had prevented her from a deep sleep. She sipped more coffee and carefully turned so she could once again see her egg. Was it worth all this? A career-making find, perhaps, but someone had been injured and if it was an attempt to shut down the dig, how many more attempts might there be? How many more might get hurt?
“Renee?”
She turned her head a bit to look at Cope. “Yeah?”
“I know I’m a subordinate here, but would it be out of line to hug you? Because I really want to, and you look like you could use it.”
She’d never had a nicer invitation. Polite. Crossing no lines. And who cared about lines, anyway? She ought to and seemingly he did. Military background? She had no idea; she was more used to just being pulled in for a hug whether she wanted it or not. And little of that happened now that she’d pretty much become a work-driven ice queen.
But she was not all ice. Inside was a woman who had some long-unmet needs. She was also a woman who right now needed very much not to be alone. Unusual fears plagued her, the primary among them that one of her team might get hurt while she remained obsessed by the egg.
She still held the coffee, but as she looked into his amazing blue eyes she seemed to answer his question, because he took the cup from her and pulled her into a hug that seemed to surround her, envelop her, even protect her.
With that simple gesture, he drew the last bit of tension from her, leaving her soft inside in a way she had never felt before. As if everything about her were becoming runny and warm, like chocolate in the sun.
She wouldn’t have believed a hug could do this to her, but she was in no mood to fight it. She reveled in it, loving the softness that was such a stranger as it moved in and took over.
She melted into his embrace and as if he could feel it, he tightened his arms a bit and pulled her closer until her head rested firmly on his shoulder and his breath brushed her hair gently.
The warmth that filled her now had nothing to do with sleeping bags, and certainly not with the chilly morning. No, it was all generated deep inside her, a yearning for something more, something deeper, something fulfilling.
She didn’t care if it was a stupid, ridiculous urge. She just let it fill her and take over. Nothing would happen. She was safe here on this ledge where at any moment they’d hear the others approaching. Safe from what? Her own urges and needs?
Probably. Because right now she felt as if roots of some kind were growing around her, roots that wanted to twine around Cope and hold on to him. Nor could she care at that moment that he might not want to be wrapped in a vine. Her heart was busy wrapping him anyway.
The whole experience was fresh and new to her, and she felt as if her eyes were being opened for the first time. Wonder of a whole new kind filled her. A wonder far deeper than that damn egg she was prepared to protect with her life. Deeper than any academic excitement.
A woman was being born into her full womanhood, she thought hazily, then gave up thinking. She wished this could go on forever.
* * *
Cope would have been happy to go on holding her. He felt as if she’d given him a precious gift, businesslike as she usually was. But the sun was getting higher, and all too soon he heard the approach of some of the team.
Trying not to be abrupt, he brushed a kiss on Renee’s forehead and said, “The team is coming.”
She looked up at him, her eyes softly hazy, then they snapped into focus. “Oh. Oh!”
She sat up at once and began trying to finger-comb her hair for some reason. He kept his smile to himself. Those hazy eyes had told him a lot. Someday they were going to have to find some time alone together and see where this went.
But not this morning. He stood and was tending the fire when the first fresh faces arrived at the ledge.
“We come bearing gifts,” Maddie said. “Pastries and a coffeepot that just needs to be warmed a bit on that fire.”
“Pastries,” Renee exclaimed. “Who’s been reading my mind? Any news on Larry?”
“He’s being released this morning,” Maddie said as she put the coffeepot next to the fire on the stones. “And he is very upset that they’ve told him he can’t come back up here.”
“I imagine,” Renee answered. She knew how she’d feel. Upset wouldn’t
begin to cover it.
“However,” Denise filled in, “he’s figured out a way to get out here. He says he’s going to be our camp cook.”
“Like he can move around enough,” muttered Maddie.
“Oh, come on,” said Denise. “Anything he can do will help even if it’s burning paper plates on the fire. Would you want to be left out?”
Then she turned her sharp gaze on Renee and Cope. “What have you two been up to?”
Renee answered. “Guarding an egg. I guess I’m obsessed.”
“I would be, too,” Maddie responded. “Is there any way we can release it sooner and get it on its way to a safe piece of foam in a lab?”
“I’m worried about destroying evidence around it,” Renee admitted. “But I’m wondering what’s the priority here. Getting this egg out of here safely...you know, that seems destructive, like thieves going in and taking out valuable stuff without context.”
Maddie sat down. “I hear you. But that egg is probably the most important piece at risk right now. If we’re careful, maybe we can get it out of there without damaging too much.”
“That goes against everything I believe about proper excavation,” Renee admitted.
“Coffee’s hot,” Cope said. “Give me your cup, Renee?”
She passed it to him, muttering, “I don’t know.”
Cope managed to pivot on his heels until he faced her directly. “Look, here’s reality. If one more thing happens—and frankly that flute is still bothering me—we’re going to have to clear out before someone gets killed. So the question is, do we take the egg with us?”
That silenced everyone for the moment. Renee sipped the coffee, glad to find it free of grounds, and closed her eyes, trying to think things through. Part of her wanted to stand her ground, to not give an inch. The other part thought of Larry and her other students and how much she didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.
At last she spoke. “This site is too important to abandon. But I don’t want anyone else getting hurt or maybe killed. Ideally, we pull the egg as carefully as possible and as quickly as we can. Anyone worried about getting hurt—I’ve said this before—can be sure that if they choose to leave they’ll get an A for the summer.”
“So we get as many as possible to work on the egg?” Denise asked.
“Possible is the operative word. It may be a large egg, but more than three people working on it at a time would be impossible. Maybe we should shift teams in and out one at a time so not everyone is exposed to trouble at the same time.”
“Excellent idea,” Cope said before anyone could answer. “We don’t know whether the rockslide was intended to hurt anyone, but since it didn’t succeed in getting us out of here, worse methods could be tried. I want everyone to understand that, as I’m sure Renee does.”
Renee flung the sleeping bag open so she could unfold until she stood upright. Most of her body lodged a protest about having slept in the cold on a hard surface, but she ignored it. The kinks would shake out.
“Okay,” she said. “You guys take over here. I need to get down the mountain to change clothes, then I’ll be right back. Assuming you don’t want to run right now.”
Maddie flashed her patented grin. “I don’t run. Besides, this is more exciting than a regular dig.”
Denise rolled her eyes, making Maddie laugh. “I could do without the added excitement. I’m more into the discovery thing than the death-defying stuff.”
“We left some of the others waking up over breakfast and discussing whether to go into town to see Larry, but I think Larry was discharged.”
“I’ll look into it when I get down there,” Renee said. “Thanks for sticking with me, guys.”
Maddie stuck out her tongue. “Like I’m going to be deprived of having my name at the bottom of the list when we announce the discovery of the century? No ‘et alia’ for me.”
The laughter felt so good. The night’s shadows receded from Renee’s mind and the brighter light of day began to reach her soul. Such good people. She’d tried to be wise in her selections for the team, but now she felt she’d also been lucky.
She headed down the trail with Cope as Denise and Maddie got to work with dental tools, breaking away small bits of limestone with care. “It’s amazing,” she remarked, “to realize this was all once under water.”
“I think my mind has been blown enough,” he said humorously. “Invisible flute players in the dark, dinosaur eggs that make beach balls look small. Gads, imagine if you were a chicken and had to lay that thing.”
A giggle escaped her. “Relax. This would have been one big chicken.”
“You hoping to find one of those, too?”
“Several of them, actually. That’s probably more luck than I can hope for, but if we could find even small bits of fossil from the parent species, and could prove they were from different adults...”
“You get closer to proving the family unit hypothesis.”
“Yup. A few years ago, someone postulated that T. rexes were too big to actually hunt for themselves, so juveniles hunted for them. If true, that’s family and requires a lot of organization. It’s still up in the air, though. More proof needed. Maybe I’ll get some.”
“I thought reptiles were solitary, that they just spawned and moved on.”
“Then you haven’t see an alligator carry her young on her head until they’re able to strike out on their own.”
“I guess I haven’t,” he murmured, then surprised her by taking her hand. “I enjoyed holding you last night.”
She caught her breath at the unexpected turn. Her heart leaped with a surprising amount of happiness. “I enjoyed it, too.”
He squeezed her hand. “Then let’s make a date for after we get this place clear of interlopers, claim jumpers, or whatever they are.”
“And ghosts that play the flute in the middle of the night.”
He broke step, stopping them, and looked down at her. “You think it was a ghost?”
“Or a lunatic. Although at this point I’m starting to wonder if Gray Cloud isn’t right about this mountain. God help us if he is, and it doesn’t want us digging.”
He caught her chin with his fingertip and turned her face to his. “You’re overtired. This doesn’t sound like you. But whatever. If the mountain’s alive, it practically rolled out a red carpet for you, as if it wanted to spit out its secrets. Somebody else has a problem with that, and Gray Cloud or no Gray Cloud, it ain’t that mountain.”
She knew he was right. But it was as if the injury to Larry, and all the suspicions floating around, and her inability to really dive into her work and forget everything else were wearing on her. Like last night when she’d almost shed tears.
No, she wasn’t like herself, but she was beginning to wonder who she really was. The career-driven loner was steadily getting replaced by a career woman who desperately wanted to be able to share some of the burdens.
Not like her at all. Not at all. But when she felt Cope’s hand wrapped warmly around hers, she didn’t think it was totally bad not to be herself. Maybe it was even an improvement.
But soon they were approaching the camp and he let go of her hand. Mustn’t start talk. Things were getting rough enough for her team without any rivalries.
They found Carlos, Bets and Mason gathered around a warm fire, half-buried in their sleeping bags, which had been opened for use as blankets. All three were trying to eat pastries and some eggs that looked almost gray. Oops, somebody had screwed up the dried eggs. At least they had the big pot of coffee.
“It’s cold,” Mason said frankly. “We oughta have snow. How’s it all going up there?”
“Going,” Renee replied as honestly as she could. “I don’t think this weather is usual...”
“Also not unusual,” Cope interrupted. “Stiffen up, gang. There’s not much bikini weather in t
hese parts.”
Renee looked at him, not sure whether to be angry that he’d stepped in or to just laugh at what he’d said.
“Easy for you,” Mason muttered. “That whole Marine thing. Ruck up, suck up, press on. My brother said that a lot. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t follow him into the Corps.”
That drew laughter from Bets and Carlos. “Probably just as well,” Carlos said. “I don’t think the Marines much like whining.”
Mason waved a dismissive hand at him. “I just need more coffee. When my fingers and toes thaw I’ll be ready to go.”
“Look,” said Bets suddenly, pointing north.
Toward them rode a cowboy, limned brightly in the still-rising sun. He was buried in a shearling jacket and his chaps were probably warmer than jeans.
He came up close, touching his finger to the brim of his hat. “Howdy. I’m Jake Madison, chief of police in Conard City, which means I’m out of my jurisdiction. However, I’m also a rancher, and secrets don’t keep well around here. Somebody tried to bury you in a rockfall?”
“Someone made the rock fall, all right,” Renee said, “but we don’t think it was intended to cause serious harm. Unfortunately, one of my interns got a broken leg.”
Jake pushed his hat back a little. “Serious enough.” He rested both hands on the pommel of his saddle and leaned forward a bit.
“Coffee?” Renee asked, suddenly remembering her manners.
“Love some,” he answered, then took the cup from her with a gloved hand. “I don’t like that kind of messing around,” he remarked. “If they want you out of here, use the law, talk to the tribe, but don’t try to hurt anyone.”
“There doesn’t seem to be much anyone can do,” Renee answered. “It was obvious the rock was loosened with some kind of pry bar, but no bar, no fingerprints, no footprints...” She paused. “And no good reason as far as we can tell. Some rare earth metal, but even our geologist isn’t sure there’s enough to bother mining.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, some folks don’t need much of an excuse to want to make someone else miserable. You folks have a sat phone, right?”
