Guide Me Home (33 page)

Then her spirits sagged. Her door was closed and no lamp burned on the table. So Devlin wasn't there after all. She gave herself a mental shake and forced her resistant legs to trot the remaining distance. If she didn't have to work until afternoon when she and Tolly planned to take a group on the shorter of the two tours, she could spend part of her day in women's clothing. Even if her dresses were nothing like the ones Daphne and Delphinia had worn, she'd feel much more ladylike once she changed.

She turned the lock on her door in case Devlin returned unexpectedly, closed the shutters, and opened her wardrobe. With the cabin encased in shadows, she couldn't see well enough to make a selection. Releasing a little huff, she crossed to the table and lit the lamp. She started to carry it to the other half of the cabin, but the glow spilled across the drawing on the table, and she found herself captivated by its intricate detail.

The first time she'd seen Devlin's map, she thought it looked like earthworms squirming together in the bottom of a bucket. But now the lines expanded toward the bottom right-hand corner of the large sheet of paper. She recognized the flow of the tunnels and caverns and domes of Mammoth Cave.

She slipped into the chair and traced with her finger the paths she had taken with Tolly and Devlin. Then she searched out the areas Tolly, Devlin, and Lee had explored without her. She'd known the cave was large, but she hadn't realized how monstrous. She shook her head, marveling. So many tunnels. No wonder Andy hadn't been able to—

She jolted to her feet so abruptly she bumped the table. The large sheet of paper went askew. A second drawing, much rougher and smaller in size, peeked out from beneath the larger one. She cringed. She shouldn't have disturbed his work. She started to put the drawings back the way she'd found them. But something in the second drawing caught her eye.

Frowning, she pulled it completely from beneath the cave map and held it up. Clearly the cave's tunnels were represented by the squiggles in the center, but what was the misshapen oval marked by a dotted line around the cave? And why did the letter
X
appear in spots within the oval but outside of the cave's reach?

Rebekah lowered the paper to the table, her pulse thrumming and a sense of foreboding creeping over her. What was Devlin really doing here?

Devlin

Shivers of excitement trembled across Devlin's frame. He held the lantern high and eased forward a few more feet. The walls were jagged in areas, the floor littered with rocks of various sizes. But just as Cal had said, the cave was deep. He estimated he'd traveled three hundred yards into the center passage branching away from the good-sized cavern, and he'd counted at least fifty yards from the entrance to the cavern itself. The tunnel was narrow, the ceiling low, but it was passable. Most encouraging to him, it followed a downhill pattern. If his instincts were correct, it could lead to a northernmost, lower-level area in the big cave.

“You all right in there?”

Cal had stayed in the cavern, unwilling to traverse the rocky tunnel. His voice bounced against the walls, creating an eerie echo. A few feet ahead of Devlin, some fist-sized rocks broke loose from their hold and slid down the wall in a rattling
whoosh.
A bat, apparently disturbed from his sleep, released the ceiling and flapped its way past Devlin's head. He shuddered. Time to leave.

He reversed his direction and eased back out, careful not to bump the walls and knock any other rocks or cave creatures loose. When he reentered the cavern, he drew in a big breath and let it out in a mighty rush.

Cal grinned at him. “Saw a bat come out. Did it smack you?”

He shook his head. “No, but the wind raised from his flapping parted my hair.”

Cal laughed, the sound reverberating.

Devlin cringed. He hoped the man didn't bring the ceiling down. “Let's go outside, huh? I'd like to talk to you.”

Cal led the way, swinging his arm with his lantern and creating ghostly shadows on the walls and ceiling. Devlin stepped into the light of noonday with another deep sigh of relief. He was glad he'd gone in—this particular cave was an amazing find—but he was equally happy to be out.

Cal extinguished his lantern and then stood grinning at Devlin. “Whatcha think o' my cave? Ain't as big as Mammoth Cave. Don't reckon any of 'em around here are. But still, it ain't just a little hole in the ground, now is it?”

Devlin turned down the wick on his lantern until the flame sputtered and died. He set the glass globe on the grass and then sank down next to it. “It's far from a mere hole in the ground, Cal.” He considered sharing what he suspected about the center tunnel but decided it would be wiser to wait until he'd done more exploring to prove his theory before mentioning it to Cal.

He angled his head and squinted against the sun. “Have you ever gone all the way to the end of any of the passages?”

Cal plopped down next to Devlin and plucked a long piece of grass. He stuck the broken end in his mouth like a cigar. “Nah. I used to want to. Curiosity, you know.” The grass blade bobbed up and down with his words. “Got pretty far into the one that feeds east, but the openin' got so tight I turned back.”

“What about the one I entered—the center one leading south?”

“That'n? I'd get so far an' come upon bats. Must be hunnerds of 'em in that tunnel. Didn't much care to get my hair parted.” Cal snickered. “My pa an' me thought about shooting a rifle into the tunnel, scarin' 'em all out, but Pa was fearful we'd bring down the ceilin'. So we never did it.”

He shrugged and tossed the grass aside. “Then o' course Andy Hardin went an' got himself lost in Mammoth Cave an' three days later came out draped over Tolly Sandford's back, dead as dead, an' that was the end o' my cave explorin'. Not that I was afraid to go in, but no sense in gettin' my ma all worked up with worry.”

Devlin nodded and pushed to his feet. “Thanks for letting me see it. I appreciate it.”

“Sure thing. Anytime you feel like explorin', just come on along.”

Devlin tapped his chin, thinking. “Would it be all right if I returned Sunday afternoon?” He'd bring his sextant, measuring tape, and notebook—things he would have brought today if he'd had any idea of the scope of the Adwell cave.

“Fine by me. Why not have lunch with my folks an' me? My ma's a mighty fine cook.”

“Thank you for the kind invitation. I would enjoy that.” A slight fabrication. He held no desire to spend hours of time in Cal's company. But if he must suffer a bit to gain access to the cave, he would do so.

“All right then. Sunday lunch an' then explorin'.” He grinned. “You're welcome to the place.”

Devlin made his way down the rise to Lightning, who drowsed beneath a cluster of aspens. Cal's parting comment—
“You're welcome to the place”
—echoed in Devlin's mind as much as if he'd shouted it in the cavern. He hoped his suppositions proved true. And if they did, he hoped Cal would release this property.

Cissy

S
hortly after noon Cissy entered the hotel kitchen, plunked her overflowing basket on the edge of the work counter, and let her breath out. She slumped on the counter. Felt good to rest. “Here you go, Mr. Cooper.”

The cook grabbed the basket and pushed it at one of the kitchen workers. Two mushrooms rolled out and landed on the floor. He shot Cissy a wry look. “If you're going to wait so long between days to bring these in, you ought to get a bigger basket.”

She rubbed her aching arms. They hurt so much she wanted to take them off. How would she carry a bigger basket the distance between her family's cave and the hotel? “Sorry. I been pretty busy lately, too busy for mushroom pickin'.” Daydreaming about her life in Nashville with Nick ate up the hours.

He stirred a pot on the stove, making steam swirl. “I will warn you I had a visit from another local farmer who found a patch of morels in the woods behind his house. I turned him away because I've been buying your family's mushrooms for over a year now. But if I can't depend on you, I will spend my money elsewhere.”

Cissy poked out her lower lip. “You'd really quit buyin' from us after a whole year just 'cause I didn't come in durin' one week? That don't seem right.”

He folded his arms over the bib of his starched white apron and frowned at her. “I plan my menus a week in advance, Cissy. I chose recipes that included mushrooms for last week's dinners, and then I had to change plans at the last minute because the mushrooms weren't here. That's not right.”

The kitchen worker bounded over with the empty basket. “Weighed fifteen and a half pounds.”

Her jaw dropped open. Little wonder her arms hurt, carting that much up the hill. How heavy would it have been if she'd picked all the mushrooms instead of leaving some behind?

“Stir the sauce, Lyle.”

While the young man took control of the wooden spoon, Mr. Cooper crossed to a little desk and pulled a tin box from the drawer. Cissy nibbled her lip and listened to the
clink-clink
of coins. That jingle had to be one of the prettiest sounds in the world. Almost as pretty as the sound of Nick's laugh.

The cook marched to Cissy and dropped several coins into her waiting hand. “Here you are—seventy-seven cents.”

She curled her fingers around the cool, round disks and smiled. “Thank you.”

Mr. Cooper didn't smile back. “I expect another basket of mushrooms on Monday.”

Cissy scrunched her nose. Monday was washday, and she'd have to help Mama before she came to the estate for work. So she'd need to pick mushrooms Sunday evening. Which meant she wouldn't get her time with Nick. “You sure you can't wait until Tuesday?” Mama did the ironing by herself, so she could scoot out to the cave Tuesday morning and gather up the mushrooms for Mr. Cooper.

“Monday, Cissy. And if you don't bring them Monday, don't bother bringing them ever again. I'll find someone who's dependable.” He turned his back on her and took the spoon from Lyle's hand.

Cissy stayed near the counter for a few moments, letting her lip hang in a pout, but when Mr. Cooper didn't even glance at her, she grabbed her basket and pranced out of the kitchen. She scuffed across the yard, swinging the basket with wide, angry swoops. What a grumpy man. And demanding, too. Acted like he owned her time, getting so pushy with her.

She angled her steps to avoid running into a tall shrub trimmed like an egg. Mr. Cooper was shaped that way, too, with a full chest and belly. In her mind's eye she saw the cook in place of the shrub. She balled one fist on her hip, cocked her head at a saucy angle, and told him exactly what she was thinking. “That's just fine an' dandy, Mr. Cooper, if you wanna buy morels from some ol' farmer. Heap sight harder to find morels than it is to get the nice white mushrooms from our cave, but if you wanna take the chance and if you're gonna be all crabby about it, I'll just save my mushrooms for somebody else.”

Titters sounded behind her. She spun around. A pair of look-alike girls wearing fancy lace dresses and holding pink parasols over their heads were watching her. They put their fingers over their lips and giggled again.

Cissy's face went hot. “What're you laughin' at?”

The one on the right lowered her hand. “Were you speaking to the bush?”

“No.”

The one on the left tittered some more. The pair exchanged snide looks.

Cissy gritted her teeth. “I was talkin' to myself. An' it's rude o' the two o' you to be listenin' in.”

They broke into laughter and hurried away, their narrow skirts shortening their stride and making the satin ribbons trailing from their shoulders to the upward sweep of the lowest layer of lace flutter. Their dresses were just as pretty from the back as from the front.

Jealousy hit her so hard it stole her breath for a moment. The Sears, Roebuck catalog didn't carry dresses half as nice as the ones those two snobby gals wore. She'd never have anything so nice. She clenched her fists and growled.

“Cissy?”

She turned again, eager this time, expecting Nick and a dose of sympathy. But instead Devlin Bale sat in the saddle of a gray-muzzled horse. She wouldn't get sympathy from him. She scowled. “What do you want?”

He swung down from the saddle and crossed to her, pulling the old horse along with him. “A moment of your time if you have it to spare.”

She was due at the stable at twelve thirty, but she figured she could give him a minute. Especially since the matching girls had stopped in a patch of shade and were watching Bek's beau show her attention. She swallowed a snicker. Now who was jealous?

She aimed a smile at Devlin. “I reckon so.”

“Good. I wanted to apologize for offending you. I'm sure it was a shock witnessing me give your sister a kiss on the cheek. Kisses are meant to be private, and my impulsive action was inappropriate. Will you forgive me?”

She'd almost forgotten about catching him kissing Bek. She shrugged. “Sure. It don't matter if you wanna kiss Bek. I reckon that's what beaus do.” Nick had kissed her cheek only once, but she looked forward to more kisses.

Devlin's eyebrows formed a V. “Cissy, you're mistaken. I'm not your sister's beau.”

She laughed. “Sure you are. You must be. You kissed her.”

He turned his face to the sky for a second and sighed. Then he settled his gaze on her again. He looked serious. And sad. “As I said a moment ago, it was an impulsive act. I shouldn't have done it because Reb—your sister—and I are only…acquaintances. That's all we can be.”

Cissy's heart started thumping hard. She fingered the stiff shape of the photograph beneath her bodice. “You ain't makin' sense.”

A strange, sorrowful smile formed on his face. “I care about your sister, but I can't be her beau. I'm here only for the summer. Then I'll be going to Lexington, back to my parents, back to school, back to…my life. And Reb will stay here with her family and her life. You see?”

She was beginning to see, and she didn't like the picture. Devlin's talk sounded too much like the warning Mr. Temperance had given her. She whacked the basket against her green-sprigged skirt and huffed. “I reckon what you're tellin' me is you won't be kissin' Bek no more, an' that's just fine. Now I gotta get to work.”

“Cissy?”

She stopped again.

“Would you mind taking Lightning with you?” He offered her the reins.

She was heading to the barn anyway. She caught hold.

“Thank you. Have a good afternoon.” He strode off across the grass toward the staff cabins.

Cissy tugged Lightning's reins. “C'mon, boy.”

Giggles erupted from the pair of girls. One of them said, “No wonder she's wearing nothing but a rag. She's a stable worker.”

The second one added, “At least the horse has shoes.”

Still laughing, they linked arms and sashayed up the boardwalk.

Cissy blinked back tears of hot anger. She wasn't wearing shoes. She never did after school let out, except on Sundays to service, because it saved the soles. But this muslin dress with its ivy vines climbing in all directions was one of the nicest she owned. And they'd called it a rag.

Devlin

Since he'd spent the morning away from the estate, he'd need to work especially hard this afternoon on his drawings. On Monday Tolly intended to take him to the lower levels of the cave nearest the entrance. So next week he'd add a new layer to his map. An intimidating prospect, much more complicated to represent in lines on a page than to experience in person. But if he represented it well, his professors would be pleased, and Father would benefit. He wouldn't shy away from the challenge.

He broke into a trot as he neared the row of simple cabins where the guides lived. He aimed himself for Rebekah's cabin, eager to apply pen to page. But as he stepped onto the stoop, uneasiness replaced the zeal. The shutters to Rebekah's cabin were sealed against the midday sun. She always opened them before leaving for the day. Was she still in there? If so, why? Unpleasant pictures flooded his mind.

He raised his fist and pounded on the door. “Reb? Reb, are you in there?”

Before he'd even completed the question, the door swung wide, and she stood before him in a calico dress, her hair in its familiar braid, and her lips set in an unsmiling line. Even though she appeared far from happy to see him, relief nearly collapsed his frame. He placed his palm on the doorjamb and hung his head, breathing heavily.

“Thank goodness you're all right. When I saw the closed shutters, I thought—” How quickly worry had risen. How unexpectedly the instinct to rescue her had seized him. Would he ever set aside his useless infatuation for this woman? He shook his head, forcing a laugh. “Never mind what I thought.” He straightened and assumed a businesslike bearing. “May I come in? I'd like to work on the map.”

Wordlessly she stepped aside, allowing his passage. He crossed the threshold and paused. The lamp burned brightly on the far corner of the table, and his map and other drawings were rolled together on the opposite side. His pencils, pens, and box of drawing instruments lay next to the rolled papers.