Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart

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Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart Page 2

by Shanna Hatfield


  Animals would have been nearby such an abundant water source. They’d found teeth from camels, elk, deer, and sheep. They’d also unearthed bones from an ancestor of the bison. Bison latifrons weighed in excess of four-thousand pounds and looked like the love child of a tawdry affair between a Texas longhorn and a buffalo.

  Hannah strolled along what she pictured might have been the edge of the lake. The hills in the area bore the distinctive layers of soil prevalent in the famous Painted Hills, part of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, located less than an hour away. She loved seeing the varying hues of red, tan, brown, and even black, especially when the summer sky painted such a perfect blue background to highlight the rich tones of the hills.

  In no rush to return to the bunkhouse the rancher had graciously provided for them to use a few miles down the road, Hannah let her feet and mind wander. Ten minutes later, she’d walked around the curve of a hill and noticed what appeared to be a cave set back in the hill ahead of her. To her knowledge, none of her coworkers had seen the cave or explored it. Although she should wait for the rest of the team, Hannah felt some inexplicable pull to the cave, one she wasn’t sure she could have denied even if she’d wanted to.

  She scrambled up the hill, sidestepping a snake as it sunned itself on a rock, and made her way up to the ledge. Loose rocks slid downward, but she didn’t glance back. Cautiously, she pushed past the brush growing in front of the cave opening and stepped inside.

  Light trickled into the entry, providing enough illumination she could see the cave had not been disturbed for a long, long time. Dirt and sand swirled in scattered layers across the floor. Bones of small animals hinted that a predator might have once used it. She hoped nothing dangerous currently considered the cave its home. The air smelled stale but not of animals. The lack of any stench reassured her, at least slightly.

  As she moved further into the cave and away from the entry, she took a flashlight from the pack she carried on her back and flicked it on. In the bright beam of light, she could see the cave was deep and wide.

  Had a tribe ever lived in it? Used it for shelter?

  At the back of the large room, she discovered a tunnel that went around a corner. She followed it, amazed how much cooler the air felt, almost damp. When she stepped around another curve in the tunnel, she stopped and stared at a wall covered in petroglyphs.

  Hannah held the flashlight up to see the drawings. She sucked in a gasp of astonishment as a breeze brushed over her, causing her to break out in goose bumps while a shiver slithered down her spine.

  “Now that was creepy,” she said to herself, looking around to make sure she was alone. She didn’t believe in ghosts or things that went bump in the night. But what had caused the weird movement of air? She looked upward to see if there was a hole that might have created a draft.

  Nothing.

  When she shined the flashlight ahead, the tunnel abruptly ended in a wall of solid rock. No wonder the petroglyphs were so well preserved. They’d been completely sheltered from the elements for thousands and thousands of years.

  Intent on the drawings, she took out her phone and photographed them, then popped in earbuds and selected one of her favorite playlists. She sang along to the music even though her mind focused on the petroglyphs. Whoever had drawn them showed more artistic flair than many she’d seen. These were not stick figures or crude scratches in the rock. There were distinct details in the way the images had been captured in stone. The drawings had also been painted.

  Her fingers traced over the brown hue of a bison and the umber tones of a horse. There were deer and elk, and the prehistoric version of sheep. Smaller animals dotted the image, too. One greatly resembled a rabbit. Birds flapped overhead, stretching forth impressive wingspans. She moved a little further down and studied images of people. They were outlined and painted in a lighter hue.

  Hannah wondered if the big man in the center was a chief or shaman. Some of the figures looked feminine while others appeared masculine. And there were children — several children set aside from the adults.

  The next scene showed hunters spearing a mammoth. One man in particular stood out, holding the spear that had gone through what she assumed had to have been the mammoth’s heart. A killing blow. The hunter wielding the spear was a little taller than the others. Perhaps he was puffed up with pride. Or his position in the tribe was elevated.

  Hannah smiled. Oh, how she’d like to meet both the man who created the drawings and the hunter. Then again, what would she do with two cavedwellers? They’d probably kill her first and ask questions later.

  Did they speak with an articulate language? She’d always dreamed of what it would be like to meet someone from the ancient past. With her luck, she’d get some lunkheaded buffoon named Ug who spoke in grunts with crude hand gestures and thought a woman’s sole purpose was to be at his bidding round the clock.

  Amused by her active imagination, she returned to studying the drawings. At the bottom of the images, beneath what looked like a trailing vine with a blossoming flower etched into the stone, a jagged edge of rock jutted out from the wall.

  Hannah propped her flashlight between her feet and felt around the rock that was about the size of a loaf of bread, trying to decide if it was moveable or not. The last thing she wanted to do was accidentally destroy something before she had a chance to bring in lights and thoroughly investigate the area.

  With caution, her fingers worked into cracks on both sides of the rock. Slowly, she worked the rock back and forth, feeling it loosen with each jostle.

  One moment the rock was in the wall, the next it was in her hands, pulling down on her arms with its heavy weight.

  “What’s hiding in there?” she asked aloud as she set the rock aside and picked up her flashlight. She hunkered down and held her flashlight so it pointed directly into the crevice the rock had filled.

  She could see something that looked like tanned hide inside. Everything in her wanted to pull it out and see what it was, but she instead dropped her pack onto the floor and dug inside.

  Only after she had gloves on her hands and a clean cloth spread out beneath the crevice did she reach out to touch the treasure.

  With her flashlight braced between her chin and shoulder, she used both hands to pull out the stiffened leather. It creaked and crackled as she moved it.

  Hesitant to examine the piece lest she damage it, but compelled by some force she couldn’t understand, she laid the leather bundle on the cloth as though it was a newborn infant.

  Hannah set the flashlight on the ground so it spotlighted the bundle. With painstaking care, she folded back the leather to reveal what appeared to be a giant lion’s paw. She picked up the flashlight again and bent over the piece, studying the fur, the worn pads of the paw, the claws that had been either worn dull or filed down so they were no longer sharp.

  Entranced by her find, Hannah sang along to the song playing in her ears and shivered when another gust of air trailed over her like a blast of icy breath. She ignored the unsettling breeze and continued studying the paw, discovering what appeared to be a flap held shut with a leather thong.

  She was just about to open it when a man’s voice bellowed through the darkness and scared her witless. A shriek rolled out of her, and she dropped the paw on the cloth as she jumped to her feet, gaping at a looming figure in the shadows. She jerked out the earbuds and stared wide-eyed at the intruder.

  The man bellowed at her again in a language she’d never heard and took a threatening step forward.

  Hannah snatched up the flashlight and shoved it in front of her, shining it in the face of a man unlike any she’d seen before. The only word that came to mind to describe him was wild.

  And angry.

  He looked angry, and for the tone of the words he shouted at her, he sounded that way, too.

  “You just back up there, mister, and calm down. Unless you’re a friend of Mr. Johnson who owns this property, you have no right to be here.”
Hannah’s hand trembled as she held the flashlight. “I’ll call the police and have you hauled off if you don’t leave right now.”

  The man stopped shouting and placed a hand in front of his eyes, as though the light bothered him. She supposed a megawatt flashlight shining in your eyes at this proximity could be a little harsh.

  Hannah lowered the light so it glowed against his chest. The man was dressed in nothing more than pieces of tanned hide. He wore a garment that had to have been pulled over his head, hanging over his shoulders and reaching his thighs. A wide leather belt encircled his waist and held a pouch similar to the one she’d been intently examining before she was so rudely interrupted.

  She thought his hair and bushy beard were most likely brown, and his skin appeared the color of tanned cowhide. However, it was his eyes that intrigued and mesmerized her. Rich blue orbs, like twin sapphires, glistened in the light. She couldn’t remember ever seeing eyes such an intense, brilliant blue.

  The man was broad-shouldered, muscular, proud in bearing, and at least a few inches taller than her five-feet, eight-inch height. In his right hand, he held what she knew was a hunting spear.

  Either the man was deranged and thought he belonged to an ancient civilization, or someone was playing an elaborate prank on her. It was probably Sam and Jen. She wouldn’t put it past them to find some local to dress up in what could pass as a caveman costume and sneak up on her. But since no one knew about the cave, the guy had to have been following her the whole time she was on her walk.

  The thought of someone watching her freaked her out. She didn’t care if the guy was carrying out a joke or not; she wanted him gone.

  “Okay, buddy. Fun’s over. Tell Sam I figured it out, but you portrayed a very convincing cavedweller.” She waggled the flashlight toward the cave tunnel that provided her only exit. “You need to leave, and I’ll get back to work.”

  The man stared at her as though she’d grown a second head or was speaking in tongues. He held her gaze so long and with such power, she felt like he was trying to stare into her soul. What was it about this guy that left her completely unsettled?

  His anger appeared to dissolve as his nostrils flared and his glance raked over her from the top of her ponytail to the toes of her hiking boots and up to her face again.

  Something sparked in his eyes and flamed. Fear snaked through Hannah, and she took a step back. She didn’t know what thoughts were going through his mind, but she was certain she wasn’t going to like it. One thing was for certain — she refused to stick around to find out exactly what he had planned.

  Slowly, with purpose, he took a step toward her, as though he stalked prey. If she wasn’t frightened half out of her mind, she might have admired the grace of his movements, almost like he was one of the big cats she’d imagined once possessed the enormous paw she’d dropped on the cloth or the one he wore against his hip.

  Hannah needed the man to leave or allow her to go. Since he blocked her one means of exiting the cave, she hoped he’d get tired of the game and confess who’d sent him. If Sam was behind this, she’d make sure he understood payback was going to be a painful form of torture.

  When he took another step toward her, Hannah assumed the man had no intention of leaving or letting her do so either. Her mind tripped over itself in terror of what the crazy guy might do to her. She tried to think of anything she had in her pack she could use as a weapon without actually killing the guy. She had picks, knives, and handheld shovels.

  Oh, and a taser gun her brother-in-law, Jason, had given her when she’d first started going out on digs.

  Desperation lent speed to Hannah’s movements as she stuffed the flashlight in her pocket, grabbed her pack, and pulled out the gun from the zippered pocket where she kept it.

  “Last chance to leave me alone, mister,” she warned, holding the taser gun in front of her. “Do not come any closer.”

  The man continued staring at her and took another step forward. She pointed the gun at him, grateful it came with a built-in light and laser beam.

  “Aim and fire,” she said, repeating the instructions Jason had given her when he’d shown her how the gun functioned. On the off chance the garment the man wore was authentic, she aimed for his bare arm and pulled the trigger. Two dart-like electrodes flew out, attaching to the man’s impressive bicep. He shouted, whether in pain or shock, she didn’t know or care.

  He appeared stunned but remained standing. Hannah pressed the stun gun component of the taser against his arm and gave him a jolt. Jason had warned her to never hold it more than five seconds on someone. She’d counted to three when the man’s body crashed to the ground.

  Speed born from panic made her fingers fly as she wrapped the cloth around her treasure from the crevice and dropped it in her bag along with the gloves she’d worn. She yanked the flashlight from her pocket, leaped over the man’s inert form, and ran.

  Her lungs felt like they might collapse, and her legs burned as though she’d stood in the middle of a hill of fire ants, but she didn’t stop until she was in her Jeep. She locked the doors and sat behind the wheel, panting for breath.

  Once the adrenaline rush ebbed, she looked in her rearview mirror with a rueful smile. Well, if Sam or Jen had hired someone, he’d certainly played the part of a caveman to perfection.

  Now that she was no longer trapped in the cave, Hannah could even see a little humor in the situation. Very little, but it was there, just the same. She started the Jeep, turned the air conditioner on high, and let the cool air blow on her face.

  She reached for her phone only to realize she didn’t have it. The earbuds she’d pulled out no longer dangled around her neck.

  Thoughts of the psycho in the cave finding her phone and using it to terrorize her made her turn off the ignition and climb out of the Jeep. He could drain her bank account, access her home address, or any number of things with her phone. She had photos of her sister’s family on there. What if he terrorized Jill and Jason or tried to kidnap their baby? A dozen horrible scenarios played out in her imagination as she took a long swig of water then loaded the taser with another electrode charge. She tucked the gun in her pocket, grabbed a heavy Maglite flashlight, and prayed she’d make it back to the Jeep unharmed.

  In spite of how much she didn’t want to go back to the cave, she had to find her phone. Hannah retraced her steps along the path she’d followed on her escape from the cave. Nothing appeared in the dust except her footprints both going and coming.

  That was odd. If the guy had followed her, surely he would have left some sort of track or print in the powdery dust, but there was nothing. All the way to the cave, she looked and saw only her footprints.

  It was as if the man had dropped out of the sky. Even as she climbed back up to the cave and stood outside, the only footprints were hers. The whole situation was bizarre. Beyond bizarre.

  With a fortifying breath, she stepped around the brush at the entrance of the cave. She held out the flashlight with her left hand and the taser with her right.

  She swept the light over the cave floor, hoping to find her phone in the big open room instead of down the narrow tunnel where the crazy guy was most likely still recovering from being tasered and hit with a stun gun. There was a small, though distinct, possibility she may have gone a little overboard with her reaction.

  Then again, the man had frightened her until she couldn’t think straight. That was on him, not her. And maybe Sam. Just wait until she got to the bunkhouse. He’d be eating sand in his sandwiches for weeks if she had anything to say about it.

  Silently, Hannah made her way to the tunnel at the back of the cave and cautiously followed it to the spot where she’d left the man by the petroglyphs.

  He was still prone on the floor, and not two feet from him was her phone. Hannah snatched it up and moved beyond his reach before she observed him to make sure he was still breathing. With him lying on his chest, it was hard to tell.

  Unable to just walk off witho
ut checking on him, she set down the gun and flashlight, stuffed her phone in her pocket, then attempted to move the man. He was a heavy deadweight in his unconscious state, but she finally managed to get him onto his back.

  He almost looked like he was sleeping, from the relaxed state of his features. His thick chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, assuring her he was fine.

  For reasons she could not explain or comprehend, she snapped several photos of him, including a few close-ups of his face and his hide covering. She was fascinated with the design of the beads that covered the left side of the garment. With the flashlight held close, she could see they were made of delicate shells that almost looked like miniature snail shells.

  Hannah’s gaze traveled up to the man’s face. She wondered what he’d look like without the bushy beard and equally unkempt hair. The man had a prominent brow ridge bone that she commonly associated with Neanderthals. Then again, she knew modern populations had up to two and a half percent of Neanderthal DNA.

  Perhaps this man had an extra portion. It would explain the brow ridge but not his attractive, straight nose or the incredible blue of his eyes.

  Although he was dusty from his fall to the cave floor, he appeared clean. She inhaled a whiff, breathing in a masculine fragrance she couldn’t define, a hint of something that put her in mind of beef jerky, and the faintest hint of something floral. Did this guy have a wife who’d wonder where he was?

  Blast that Sam. When she got her hands on him, he’d rue the day he ever planned to play such a stupid joke on her.

  Hannah leaned closer, inhaling another breath that filled her nose with the man’s unique scent. It wasn’t unpleasant, just masculine, musky, and unfamiliar. She studied the contours of his cheeks, the line of his lips barely visible beneath his facial hair.

  Mindful she was ogling someone she’d just knocked out with a taser and stun gun, she scoffed at herself as she rose to her feet. The man would probably have a headache, maybe be a little disoriented when he awoke, but he’d be fine.

 

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