Holding the boy in the crook of his arm, Marc was surprised he didn't fuss at leaving his father, and equally surprised that he was staring with curiosity, like he expected Marc to say something to him. The problem was, Marc had no idea how to start a conversation with a one-year-old. But he did know about dinosaurs, and all little boys loved dinosaurs. At least he had. He even had his Giant Book of Dinosaurs stashed away somewhere.
Shifting little Marc so he was balanced, and holding onto his little arm with his other hand, Marc said to him, while strolling around the room, "Once upon a time there was a thirty-foot-long dinosaur named Nigersaurus who had a broad straight muzzle with more than fifty columns of teeth, all lined up along the front edge of its squared-off jaw, which allowed Nigersaurus's mouth to work close to the ground, enabling him to mow down mouthfuls of ferns and horsetails and other plants, kind of like a Mesozoic cow. But what was different about Nigersaurus was that his skull bones were nearly translucent..."
About fifteen minutes later, Kit caught Marc's eye, pointed to the clock on the mantel, and said, "I hate to break up this uncle-nephew bonding, but we're expected for dinner at seven."
Marc, who was now in the middle of an explanation about a family of dinosaurs called sauropods that were characterized by large bodies, long necks, and small heads, said to little Marc, who had been listening intently, even though Marc knew he was probably intrigued by the color of his uncle's eyes more than what he was saying, "When you're three I'll get you a little shovel and we'll do some digging in the Indian mound." He handed the boy to Rick.
Rick looked at Marc, and said, "You can't tell kids things you don't plan to carry through. He'll expect you here when he's three to start the digging."
Marc glanced at Kit, who was looking at him curiously, like maybe he'd just gotten rid of a little personal baggage and she was pleased. And maybe he had. Returning home to learn that Rick named his son after him was completely unexpected, and had him thinking some, like maybe there was still time for him and Rick to bond like brothers. He also had a mental inventory of dinosaurs he'd tell little Marc about, and maybe start him on a fossil collection.
"You will be back before too long, won't you?" Rick asked.
Marc held Rick's gaze, and replied, "Yeah, I'll stop by between digs."
As Marc and Kit followed the trail back, Kit said, "That was a pretty non-committal answer you gave Rick. The way you took to your little namesake, I somehow expected more from you."
"He's a cute kid."
"Sure, he has your hair and eyes."
"No, I mean he seemed interested in dinosaurs."
"I'm sure he was. The two of you probably descended from the same dinosaur egg, which would have been genetically connected through your mother," Kit said, "and before you take that as a negative, your mother might have given you up at birth, but she did pass on to you some pretty incredible eyes. Little Marc will appreciate them when the girls chase after him."
Marc said nothing, but Kit's indirect compliment had him thinking about kissing her. Maybe not now, but soon. It had him thinking a lot of things he hadn't expected, like taking whatever they had to the next level, wherever that would be.
***
Dinner that night was its usual noisy affair. Ryan, the eldest of Marc's four younger brothers, dominated the conversation, which he directed at Kit, about what went on at the bull-riding competition that day, while their mother flitted around between the table and the kitchen, looking much as she had over the years, just thinner. His father, however, looked on with concern, and Marc wondered why. But when his mother went over and gave his father a kiss on the lips, and his father touched her face and smiled at her, Marc sensed his mother was doing better. He also saw the deep devotion between his parents and understood why his father was angry. Marc Hansen hurt the woman Jack Hansen loved, and that would not be tolerated.
The only one missing from the pack at the table was Maddy. Marc still pictured a pretty little nine-year-old with pigtails, sitting in the empty chair that was apparently still her place, and wondered what to expect. Kit's comment that Maddy could be thinking about sex bothered him. Little sisters shouldn't think that way, especially innocent-looking little sisters with big brown eyes, and curly brown hair, and a smile that could melt anyone's heart.
"So Kit, where do you plan to go after you leave here?" Ryan asked, intercepting a conversation Kit was having with Tyler about Roman riding and what it was like to stand on three horses while they were running at a full gallop around the arena.
"I haven't decided yet," Kit replied. "I kind of like ranch life now. Maybe I'll hire on here."
"Good idea, "Josh said. "I'll teach you how to ride."
"Yeah, right," Ryan replied. "Kit needs someone who can stay on a horse." He leveled his eyes on Kit and looked at her in a way that said he was interested.
"I can stay on a horse," Josh said. "I jumped when Percy tripped and fell. You were there."
Ryan winked at Kit and smiled, then remained looking at her, even while she turned to address Jeremy's comment, which was followed by Ryan again, offering to teach her how to throw a rope... tomorrow morning... and go for a trail ride after.
As Marc watched the interaction, it bothered him, not so much that his brothers couldn't keep their eyes off Kit—he'd pretty much expected that—but that Kit seemed to be lapping it up. She hadn't been like that in Belize. She'd kidded and joked with the guys on the team then brushed them off when she was done. But here, she was acting kind of girly.
Do you have a thing for cowboys?
I could have.
And all three older brothers looked the quintessential cowboys—unshaved because they had to tend stock before heading for the rodeo, dark hair mussed from having just taken off their hats, western-cut shirts unsnapped to mid chest, tight jeans that hung low on their hips and were worn and faded where they bulged out in front, letting Kit know they were all studs...
The idea of a man with tough balls is somewhat intriguing...
Marc tried not to let her comment bother him.
As Ryan went into yet another lengthy explanation about bull riding, this time about the skill and concentration it took for the eight-second ride, Marc caught Kit smiling at Ryan, like maybe she'd singled him out. Ryan would have the toughest balls too, if there was anything to what Kit said, since he always beat his brothers in bull riding competitions, along with most of the guys in the county, all of which Ryan was in the process of getting across to Kit...
Ryan straightened his back, leaned in his chair slightly, a casual pose to let Kit know he was cool, really really cool, as he continued his discourse, saying, "The expression down in the well describes a situation when a bull's spinning in one direction and the force of the spin pulls the rider down the side of the bull into the motion's whirlpool." He held Kit's gaze to make sure she got the picture. The only thing Ryan hadn't passed on to Kit yet was the size of his balls, but watching the way Ryan was working things, he'd probably find a way.
Jeremy cut Ryan off by saying to Kit, "Today I got a spinner, which is a really tough situation because the bull spins in a tight circle throughout the ride—"
"Spinners are predictable," Ryan said, taking back the spotlight. "I got a turn back which is a bull with a bucking pattern that starts in one direction then makes a sharp turn in the opposite. If the rider touches the bull or himself with his free hand during the eight seconds, he's disqualified."
Josh, who was sitting beside Kit, nudged her hand with his, and said, "I'm working on becoming a bullfighter, which is the most dangerous job at the rodeo. He's the guy who distracts the bull to give the rider a chance to get to safety when he's bucked off or dismounts."
Ryan gave a short ironic laugh. "Yeah, he's also a guy who can't stay on a bull, which is why he's a bullfighter."
"You're all obviously very good riders," Kit said, "but it must be pretty uncomfortable bouncing up and down like that."
"It toughens up a man," Ryan said,
looking directly at Kit.
"I'll just bet it does," Kit replied, smiling in amusement.
Marc looked at his brothers in disgust. The only male at the table Kit didn't seem to notice was him, but then, he wasn't a cowboy.
When dinner was over, Kit offered her thanks for the meal, and when she stood to go, all four brothers stood, practically dumping their chairs over when they did, which made Grace smile and Jack look on in amusement, like maybe he was proud of their sons because they were gentlemen. Marc had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
Josh immediately went over to Kit, and said, "I'll walk you back to your tent."
Jeremy eyed his twin, a direct challenge, and said, "I don't think so. She's safer with me."
Ryan straightened his shoulders, throwing himself into his full height, which equaled that of their father, and said, "You boys have horses to tend to."
When Ryan started to reach for Kit's arm, Marc shoved his chair back and walked over to face Ryan squarely, and said, "Go muck out some stalls. I'm walking Kit back." Taking Kit by the arm he nudged her toward the front door.
Once outside, Kit said, "That was fun. Your brothers are nice."
"They're not really," Marc replied. "They think their God's gift to women."
"Maybe they are," Kit said. "They're all very good looking."
"They're also a bunch of horny studs who want to get into your tent."
Kit laughed. "Don't they know your father's rules?"
"My father's out of a different century. His rules are a joke," Marc said. "If you gave Ryan an inch of encouragement he'd be in your bed so quick you wouldn't know what hit."
"Actually, I might," Kit said. "From the way he was describing all the bull riding he does he must have very tough balls."
"Or very flat ones," Marc said, and gave a surly grunt.
Kit looked askance at him. "You're jealous of your little brothers."
"No I'm not," Marc said. "I'm irritated with them."
"Why, because they were talking to me while you were just sitting there looking pissed."
"I wasn't pissed."
"You were so pissed your face was yellow," Kit said.
Marc said nothing, because he was still irritated about the whole dinner episode and Kit's apparent admiration for guys who had little going for them but their looks.
But as they started across the grounds toward the tents, Kit glanced in the direction of the guest cabins along the creek, and said, "What about your brother Adam? Aren't you going to stop in and see him?"
"He knows I'm here," Marc said. "If he wants to see me he can walk out to my tent."
"What about his son? He's your nephew. Aren't you curious about him?" Kit asked.
"He'll look like all the other Hansen's," Marc replied. "All except one, that is."
"Make that two," Kit corrected. "Tyler doesn't look so much like the others. He's got the dark hair and eyes, but he looks a little different."
"That's because there's Nez Pierce on my father's side and Tyler got the gene," Marc said, "but everyone knows from his height and shape and the way he walks that he's a Hansen."
Kit stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe it's good not to be just another Hansen clone? All your brothers have the same dark-haired, dark-eyed look about them, which is like your father, but you stand out in the crowd. And you're actually much better looking," she said. "You also have something they don't have."
Marc looked askance at her. "Which is?"
Kit reached up and jiggled his hair. "A ponytail."
Marc gave a cynical laugh. "I saw my father looking at it in disgust. His real sons wouldn't be caught dead with one. The ironic thing is, I was planning on cutting it before you talked me into coming here, but now I'll keep it just to piss off everyone."
"Lighten up, Hansen," Kit said. "We're here for me to dig around in an Indian mound, and you to get to know your family again." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the jaw.
Marc looked at her, baffled. "What was that for?"
Kit shrugged. "I told you I was attracted to men with personal baggage."
"Does that mean I can come to your tent tonight?"
"No, but you can point out the trail to the hot spring. I want to take a nice long bath."
"Alone?" Marc asked.
"For now." Kit gave him a sultry smile.
And that was the biggest curve ball yet.
***
Kit couldn't believe how late she'd slept the following morning. Unlike the hot sticky nights in Belize, where she'd wake up laying on top of a sweat-dampened sheet, the night air in Oregon was fresh and cool, and it carried with it the fragrance of cedar and fir and moist forest floor. But that wasn't the reason she slept in. After soaking in the hot spring pool in the muggy warmth of a cavern, she couldn't get to sleep. She'd expected to sink into her mattress and drift right off, but something happened at the spring she couldn't explain. There were strange sounds coming from inside the mountain like Marc described, eerie sounds, obviously wind sifting through crevices, but she got caught up in listening to them because they almost sounded human. Then the sounds faded away, and in the silence that followed, she started thinking about Marc.
The image of him walking around, holding his little nephew, while telling him in scientific terms about dinosaurs, was comical at first, because the toddler had just turned one year old, but as she watched them interacting—Marc explaining the facts of dinosaurs, little Marc staring with rapt attention—it was like a quasi-paternal bond was forming. She never would have expected it from Marc. It made her see him in a whole new light. He still had all the personal baggage, and he was miles away from resolving all the issues he had with his family, but she could see him as one toddler step closer to becoming a family man, even if he couldn't.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Marc's voice, not far from where she lay, and she knew he was talking to someone. Ducking through the flap in her tent, she looked toward the Indian mound and saw Marc standing with a dark-haired man, who was taller than him by a few inches, and who had a build about like Jack Hansen, so she assumed it was Adam.
Both men had their arms folded so it didn't look like a friendly welcome-home exchange, but whereas Marc appeared confrontational, Adam looked as if he was apologizing to Marc, because often his arms would unfold and he'd gesture toward Marc, as if he was trying to reason with him, which could be a challenge for Adam. Marc had a mindset that Adam was their father's favorite, and nothing Kit had seen so far had her questioning that. Jack Hansen had not welcomed Marc with enthusiasm, although having a son leave for four years, and not contact his family, did give the man a reason to be angry.
Then she saw Adam gesture toward the Indian mound and Marc unfold his arms and plant them on his hips, and she knew the quarrel was about digging up the mound.
Deciding it was a safe enough argument to join, and maybe intervene, she ducked inside the tent, quickly dressed in khaki work pants and a tan shirt, shoved her feet into socks and field boots, and walked over to see what the status was. She had money set aside to coast by for a couple of months, but if mound digging had come to a halt before they'd begun, she'd pack up and leave. As she approached, Marc's face changed from rock-hard stubbornness to looking like he was glad she was there.
After introductions, and a few exchanges of small talk, Adam said to her, "I understand you want to excavate the mound."
Kit nodded. "I'm looking for a site to oversee for my PhD, and when Marc mentioned there was an Indian mound here I decided to take a look. We'd only do an exploratory excavation as a feasibility study, with the intent of getting grant money, if it would be worthwhile."
"My father's against digging it up," Adam said.
It hit Kit immediately that Adam said my father, instead of our father, and wondered if that was significant. She saw Marc's face harden some, and figured it was. But Adam had been addressing her, so it probably meant nothing.
&
nbsp; Marc planted his hands on his hips, and said, "Then maybe you could talk to your father and convince him to let us dig."
"I didn't mean it that way," Adam said. "You know Dad's feelings about the mound."
"That's why I suggested you talk to him," Marc said. "He pretty much does what you want."
Korban, you haven't even begun to know a man with personal baggage...
Kit would be sure to point that out to Marc later, that and a whole lot more.
Addressing Adam, Kit said, "How would it be if I approached your father and discussed it with him? I'd explain what we'd be doing so he'd know it would be a minor dig. That way maybe he'd be open to the idea."
Adam eyed her thoughtfully, and after a few moments, he said, "I suppose you could give it a try." The way he'd said it didn't give Kit much hope that the patriarch of the Hansen family would budge on this particular issue. Jack Hansen already stated his position about the mound, and he'd raised six sons, all of whom seem to be take-control men, which they wouldn't be if not for a strong father who stood by his convictions.
Kit looked at Marc, who shrugged and said to her, "Have at it if you want. And good luck."
He started to turn away, when Adam said, "Aren't you coming by the cabin? I have a son."
Marc glanced back, and said, "I know. Mom told me. I'll get over in a little while."
From the look on Adam's face, it was obvious he was disturbed that Marc had no interest in his family, which he had a right to be—Marc was acting like a complete jerk. Kit knew there was more to it from Marc's perspective, but she also knew that Adam didn't hold the same position towards Marc. Then Adam's face became stony, and he said. "I won't hold my breath waiting for you, but before you take off again for another four years you might stop by and see your nephew. He's a pretty neat kid." He turned abruptly and walked off.
As soon as Adam was out of hearing range, Kit said, "You are a total butthead. Why would you not go see your nephew? Adam's proud of him and wants your approval."
"Adam doesn't want my approval," Marc said. "He just wants to show me he's still ahead of me with the wife and son, even though he totally screwed up."
Bittersweet Return (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 6) Page 9
