by kps
At the water's edge, the bearers murmured nervously, tensely staring around them with an air of superstitious dread. By the time the guide and Courtland rejoined the group, the bearers' appeared ready to bolt. "Well ... what is it, Courtland?" Dev inquired impatiently.
"Where are the villagers?"
Courtland ignored the questions until he'd motioned to Ramon with a jerk of his head. The guide drew the natives aside, murmuring an explanation to them. When Dev swore an oath in frustration at the man's silence, Courtland finally answered. "They've disappeared, Cantrell. I'd say it's been a good six months or more since there's been a cookfire in that village. Looks like they left real sudden, too." He took off his hat, swiping at the sweat that beaded his forehead. "I'm not quite sure what to make of it. There apparently weren't many villagers, but the fact that they're gone and the Montionas down-river don't know about it
..." He shook his head, slamming his hat back on as he puzzled over the mystery.
"If Ramon can get the natives settled down, we'll make camp here for the night and continue upriver in the morning. Maybe we'll find traces of them farther along."
He didn't sound very convincing, and Jenny raised her head with an effort, her voice shaken and soft. "Tell us what you really think happened, Mr. Courtland. We're all in this together. I know you must have a theory."
Courtland looked at her, then at Dev, and back to her again. "These people aren't nomadic, miss. They wouldn't leave an established camp unless they were threatened by something
..."
"Like a white man who'd passed through with guns and armed men, headed for a place in the mountains; a man who needed the villagers to carry supplies," Jenny interrupted, finishing his unspoken thoughts in a dull, lifeless monotone. Dev's arm tightened around her as he felt her sway.
"Can't we discuss this later, Courtland?" Dev insisted curtly. "You can see Jenny's ready to drop. First that man on the river, and now this. You and I can talk it over while she's getting some rest."
Courtland agreed, suggesting Dev take Jenny to one of the deserted huts. "They're reasonably clean. We'll get a fire going and try. to hustle up some fresh game. Once she has a little food and rest, Miss Bryant'll bounce back. She's made of sterner material then I'd have given her credit for!"
Jenny barely heard the compliment. She was dazed, and her mind raced in ten different directions at the same time. She had come to accept the fact that it would be nearly impossible to find Rodrigo alive, and now that it seemed that he might be, she wasn't sure of her own feelings. They might wander for months and still never find him. Hope was worse than despair because it put her in a kind of limbo, neither a wife to Rodrigo nor his widow.
Inwardly she laughed at her own foolish beliefs that the expedition would settle the question for her. She couldn't even divorce Rodrigo. How did one go about dissolving a marriage to a man who might never be seen again, even if he was alive and well in some distant, remote part of the world?
The meal that night was an enjoyable change from their usual fare. Ramon and a few of the bearers had gone hunting, returning with deer meat. Along with some of the vegetables and edible roots that Arioca had given them, they had managed a tasty version of venison stew.
It did much to hearten everyone's spirits and by the time they retired, even Jenny felt more like pressing ahead.
Dev saw to it that Jenny was settled comfortably in a hammock in one of the huts before kissing her good night and assuring her that he wouldn't be far in case she needed him. He joined Courtland at the fire minutes later, pouring himself a cup of the strong, bitter coffee before he brought up the subject they'd started to discuss earlier.
"You think he's alive." It was more of a statement than a question, and Dev took another sip of coffee before he pressed on. "How much chance have. we got of finding him?"
Courtland shrugged his shoulders. "Could be him, then again it could be this bastard half-brother of his," he finally admitted. "It sure was convenient for the other brother, Alejandro, to claim he was bringing back the Duke's body." Courtland looked up, staring across the fire at Dev with a hooded gaze. "Convenient for you and the widow, too, at least until Alazar turned up with his sightlng." For the first time Wynn relaxed in front of Dev, dropping some of the proper, gentlemanly manner he'd cultivated for so long. Even though he managed well in the upper social strata, he was the son of a simple tailor whose ambitions had carried him higher in the world.
Dev's temper flared quickly at the sly implication Courtland had made. "If it was convenience we were after, you think we'd be down here tramping through this damned, Godforsaken country, looking for a man who's probably dead? Forget it, Courtland. I could've convinced Jenny a long time ago that Alazar was mistaken about seeing Rodrigo without going through all this hell." He threw his coffee at the edge of the fire in disgust. "You keep forgetting you were hired to find him, not to pass judgment on what's a matter of convenience!"
Not really looking for a fight, Courtland backed off. "You're right about that, I suppose. Okay, Cantrell, I'm not a fortune teller. This is hardly the crossroads of the world. Seems to me, if a man wants to lose himself in these parts, he's got a damned good reason and won't be found!" He laughed, genuinely amused. "Wouldn't it be something if the man had stumbled on the real Eldorado!" He shook his head in amazement, thinking of all the men who'd died trying to find the legendary city of gold.
"Y'know, they say there's a basis of truth for every fable and legend floating around.
Spaniards sure didn't find it, at least not the Conquistadores."
Dev failed to see the humor in the situation, even though he allowed that he was more personally involved than Courtland. "Jenny told me Rodrigo had some kind of map one of his ancestors had found … sounded excited when he said he noticed a mistake in the way some English pirate translated it into Spanish for his great-great something or other. Didn't tell her any more than that, but he was fired up enough to leave as soon as he could."
"Sounds like he had something,all right." Courtland squinted off into the darkness beyond the fire's glow, a noticibly dreamy, yearning expression on his strong, hard face. "We'll be in the mountains in a few days. They come on you real sudden, towering a couple thousand feet straight up." He suddenly seemed to snap out of his trance and faced Dev. "The more we get into the highlands, the harder it'll be to control our native friends. The Catholic priests converted a lot of them, but they still keep a good many of their old beliefs, too." He grinned, the expression sudden and fleeting. ' They hold that spirits inhabit the tops of those mountains, claim nobody but the old gods have ever seen the peaks. You suppose there's any truth to that?"
Suddenly a scream. broke the night's heavy silence. Both men jerked to their feet, racing toward the hut where Jenny had been sleeping. Dev was the first through the open doorway, immediately aware of the cause of Jenny's terrified cry.
A snake hung from the crossed poles that supported the hut's thatched roof, its long, sinuous body writhing not five feet from the hammock. Dev tensed, reacting instinctively as he slammed his rifle up and got off a shot. In the dim light of the hut, it was more a matter of luck than accuracy that the bullet tore through the snake's midsection, neatly bisecting it.
There was a loud hiss, and he shot again, smashing the reptile's flat, triangular head.
Courtland brushed past Dev to 'kick the snake's remains from the hut while Dev rushed to Jenny's side, catching her against him. She was in a state of near-hysteria, her entire body shaking with the sobs. "It's okay, baby ... it's okay," Dev soothed, picking her up to carry her outside to the warmth and safety of the fire. His whispered endearments seemed to calm her somewhat, but even in the safety of the open ground, she continued to cling to him.
Courtland joined them, a bottle in one hand, a tin cup in the other. He poured a small amount of amber liquid into the cup and offered it. "Brandy," he explained in answer to Dev's questioning look. "Best thing for a fright. She'll be able to relax better with it." He wat
ched as Dev tenderly held the cup to the girl's mouth until she had managed to swallow a little of it. "The snake wasn't poisonous, if that's any comfort," he said before he abruptly turned and stalked off into the darkness.
Wynn brooded, standing at the riverbank. Somehow, every time he saw those two together, his belly clenched with an emotion he vaguely recognized as jealousy. Not for the first time in his life, he found himself regretting the fact that he hadn't been born wealthy.
So much could have been avoided, he thought. Everything he had in life, whether it was the food he ate or the fine wardrobe of expensive clothing that allowed him to move easily within society, had been paid for by the very lack of scruples that separated him from that girl. He was a self-made man who had risen above his humble beginnings by using every deceitful, cunning trick he think of.
Here, in the absolute quiet of a tropic rain forest, he saw himself clearly. He was quite aware that he was not accepted by polite society but merely tolerated because he knew its secrets, the follies and eccentricities of those who were born to it. A girl like Jennifer Bryant would have made his goal of becoming a member of the elite possible. Could Rodrigo Morenes have actually found what he'd been seeking? If he'd stumbled across it, was it possible they could? For a while Courtland stayed by the river, dreaming of the near impossible ... that the fabled wealth of Eldorado and the Bryant girl both were his.
Eighteen
The verdant, tropical expanse of rain forest seemed to stretch into eternity. Jenny struggled on day after day, miserable in the steaming, humid heat, her tender skin raw with the countless insect bites, hopelessness at the task they'd undertaken eroding her spirit.
An apathy had settled over her, born of the despairing realization that it was possible to search for years and still find no trace of Rodrigo. There was even a chance .that he had suffered the same horrible fate as the native bearer, Chucho, and was now only a pile of cleanly picked bones lying at the bottom of a river.
For almost a week since they'd left the river they had marched on foot, moving in a southwesterly direction away from it. The river had become unnavigable with perilous rapids churning the water white and foamy.
Courtland led the march with a dozen bearers using their curved, wickedly sharp machetes to hack a trail through the dense, heavy scrub and low-hanging vines. Behind them were Dev and Jenny, followed by Ramon and the natives who carried their supplies. The canoes had been left at the river camp, pulled ashore and disguised amongst the brush.
Jenny paused a moment to catch her breath, feeling faint and weak from the exertion of walking since day-break. To the right of the trail, just a foot or so off of it, she spied a large, flat rock that seemed to beckon to her as a safe place to stop and rest a moment. She slipped over to it, sank down gratefully on its solid support and drew off her hat, mopping at the sticky dampness around her neck and throat with a silk scarf.
If by the end of this week, the fifth week of their expedition, they'd found no further evidence to indicate that Rodrigo was alive, she would tell Courtland to tum back to Caracas.
There was no sense endangering all of their lives just so she could prove a point to herself.
The rains would come soon, swelling the rivers to flood stage and cut off any retreat for months. Once back in Caracas, there would be no reason to hide her remarriage, and it would be a relief to let her parents know.
Suddenly something touched her hand, a light, tentative touch that was gone and then recurred. She turned to glance down; expecting to find one of the beautifully colored butterflies she had seen all along the route. A terrified scream broke from her throat at the sight of a huge, grotesque spider, squatting near her hand on his hairy, spring-like legs.
She jerked to her feet, stumbling backwards with another hysterical scream, then stared transfixed at the monstrous creature. Even without the benefit of hearing .her terrified reaction to its presence, the spider sensed it, rearing high on its back legs put aggressively before rearing high.
Dev heard the screams, Crashing back through the tangled brush to reach her. It only took him a second to follow the direction of her wild, fixed stare. He shrugged the rifle sling from his shoulder, upended the weapon and brought the butt down on the spider's squat, bulbous body-once, then again, before he shoved its crushed, curled shape off the rock into the undergrowth.
Behind him Jenny continued to sob, and his need to comfort her was as strong as his instinct to kill whatever threatened her. He threw down the rifle,catching her in his arms, his fingers gently soothing as he caressed her back and shaking shoulders.
Dev held her close until some of the hysteria had ebbed and she finally took a deep breath, raising her tear-streaked face to him. "I ... I want ... to go home, Dev," Jenny managed to gasp out between deep, catching breaths. "This place is ... is so horrid. If I see another snake or bug, I shall curl up and die!"
Her plea might have sounded dramatic in another setting, but Jenny had already endured more than most women would have, and without complaint. "I can't say as I blame you, sweetheart," Dev answered, more than pleased by her decision. He might have suggested it himself long before now,but it was something that had to originate with her or she would always have that doubt to carry through their marriage. "We'll tell Courtland we want to turn back. He can always mount another expedition and come back after the rainy season's over."
"It was such a useless, wasted effort, wasn't it?" she asked, gazing up at the tired lines around his eyes. She'd made him tramp all over creation just so, in her own mind, she would be satisfied she wasn't some kind of ... bigamist. Dear God, but she was tired herself, so very tired. Jenny touched his cheek and smiled, vowing that she would make it up to Dev. He'd been made to feel he was unimportant in her obsession with finding Rodrigo. Suddenly there was a crashing in the bushes and she stepped closer to him, holding her breath until she saw that it was only Wynn and the bearers, summoned by her screams.
Courtland cursed softly when he saw Jenny in Dev's arms, using his anger at the uncalled-for delay to cover the frustration of finding them in an embrace. Without Cantrell, he would have had a chance with her. With him constantly around, Wynn could hardly speak to her, much less pay her court. "Miss Bryant ... Cantrell-I'd appreciate it if your attentions were directed to following . the trail rather than each other. At this speed, we'll never cover enough territory to make this search worthwhile … if that's still your intention!"
Jenny felt the muscles in Dev's arm tense in anger as he released her and took a menacing step toward Courtland. The two were almost equal in weight and build, but she had no desire to see Dev bruised or bleeding on her account. She caught at his arm, then turned to face Wynn with an icy fury that expressed itself in her voice. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Mr.
Courtland, but were you not hired by my father to conduct the search for my late husband?"
"Yes, ma'am, but-"
"But, nothing! You're being paid well to perform a service and are only responsible for the work you contracted to do. I told you once before that any interference in my personal life would be taken to mean that you no longer wished to continue your job. Is my meaning perfectly clear, Mr. Courtland?" The rebuke was given with such a haughty authority that even Devstared at Jenny in surprise. She continued to glare at Courtland, her booted foot tapping the dust as she waited for her answer.
The usually confident and swaggering Wynn Courtland was at a loss for words, brought lower by Jenny's cutting remarks than if Dev had knocked him flat with a solid punch. He shuffled his feet and offered a grudging apology, suggesting that they start back on the trail again.
Dev bent to retrieve his rifle and secured its sling across his shoulder before taking Jenny's arm and clearing the path of vines. "This time, stay close to me," he warned, softening the order with a tender look that told her how much he worried over her safety.
They travelled on, fighting the steep, upward angle of the land as it rose toward the highlands of the Gran Sabana.
Once, at Dev's insistence, they stopped so that Jenny could rest and bathe her face with the cool water of a small, clear lagoon, though for the most part Courtland set a hard pace that would have undone the strongest man, much less a woman unused to such travel.
Finally, when the sun was at its zenith, he called a break for the noonday meal. Jenny sat to one side with Dev while Wynn paced the camp with the pent-up energy of a caged animal.
"Mr. Courtland, Wynn ... if that were an expensive Persian carpet, you'd have worn a hole through it already," Jenny teased, smiling to show she'd somewhat forgiven him his earlier rash statements. "Why don't you sit and join us-there's something I'd like to discuss with you."
Wynn paused, studied Devlan for a moment, and when the younger man shrugged carelessly as if to say it was of no importance to him whether he joined them or not, he walked over and broke off a piece of bran meal loaf and sliced a portion of jerky. There was just enough room next to Jenny to sit, and Wynn took advantage of it, grinning at Devlan while he worked his teeth into the tough, dried meat and tore a piece free.
With a fastidious gesture that was ingrained in Jenny by years of correct social behavior, she brushed daintily at the bran crumbs that clung to her skirt. Both men studied her, amused by the dismay that flickered across her face as she reviewed the torn, rumpled state of her clothes and sighed deeply in regret. It was clear that Jenny was wistfully recalling the delight of a hot, scented bath and the feel of a silk dress against her skin.
"What was it you wanted to ask me, then?" Wynn inquired abruptly, breaking into Jenny's dreams.
"Oh just your honest opinion of our chances of success. I I'm afraid I was overconfident of my own endurance. I would like to end the search now and turn back to Caracas." She glanced at Dev for a moment and then faced Wynn. "If you really believe you can find Rodrigo or at least what his fate was, I'd like you to return and continue. Money is of no importance, Wynn. This rumor that my husband is alive places me in the ambiguous position of not knowing if I am a widow or still married. Whichever is the truth, I must know."
