Sandra Hill - [Jinx] (26 page)

“I want ta know ’bout Caleb.”

She frowned, not sure what he meant.

“He seems so sad.”

“Of course he is. Were you hoping he would be happy about his parents cutting him off for seventeen years?”

He flinched.

She couldn’t be sorry. They were harsh words, but true.

“We cannot approve of his life in the military, or a life spent huntin’ fer treasures, but we thought he at least was content. We missed him awful much, but until he came back, we thought he’d settled in his new life.”

“He had, pretty much. I’m a bit of a pacifist myself, Mr. Peachey, but I have to say that Caleb’s career in the military has been an admirable one. You should be proud of him. As for the treasure hunting, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I suspect Caleb is still trying to find himself. And even if he were set up with the perfect career, that would never make up for the hole in his heart.”

“Hole in the heart?”

“His estranged family.”

Mr. Peachey’s throat worked for several seconds, as if he was unable to speak over some strong emotion. “
Ach,
there is a hole in our hearts, too.” He put up a hand to halt her from speaking. “It may not seem that way ta you, but we are in pain, too.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” Her tone of voice was more exasperated than she would like, but really, these people were all hurting each other unnecessarily.

“That’s why I’m here.” He took a long sip of his coffee and set the mug down. “I usta think all this was Caleb and Jonas’s fault ’cause of the choices they made. Not the buggy accident or Hannah bein’ pregnant with Jonas’s baby, but the choices they made not to apologize ta the church.”

What buggy accident? What pregnancy?
Caleb had never really explained the details of his and Jonas’s shunning.

“It was such a little thing ta do, the kneeling confession, but they refused.”

She wanted to ask about
his
choice . . . his and Rebekah’s . . . to shun their own sons. Where was the fairness in that? Instead, she asked, “And now?”

“Now I’m not so sure. The only thing I’m sure about is we have a broken family that needs fixin’.”

“And you think I can help, how?”

“Do ya love Caleb?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “I do, but that doesn’t mean we have a future together. My dreams are a big roadblock to him.”

His brow furrowed with puzzlement.

“A farm. Babies. If not marriage, at least long-term commitment. Most of all, love.”

He waved a hand as if all that were irrelevant, which it was not. “Knowing Caleb . . . and lovin’ him like ya do . . . surely ya have some suggestion on how we can fix this mess.”

Caleb is going to kill me for interfering. Hah! He’ll be gone soon anyhow.
“Well, actually, I do, Mr. Peachey.” And she told him. In no uncertain terms.

It was the craziest thing, but for a blip of a second she felt as if someone was doing a high five Snoopy dance in her head.
I’ve been hanging around Tante Lulu too much.

Welcome to the fair . . .

The grounds of the Butterfly B & B resembled a fairgrounds Saturday morning as Veronica and Jake, arms looped around each others’ waists, walked over the lawns on the side and back of the historic brick house.

It would be another half hour before it was opened to the public. The public being the news media—TV, radio, newspapers, and cavern and history magazines. Also, tourism boards, historical societies, and museum reps, a few Lenape Indians still residing in the area, the Nittany Grotto Club and other caving enthusiasts, township and county officials who could be helpful to Mark and Abbie once they needed permits to open the cavern, and a few friends and family.

An exclusive interview had been given to an area newspaper, which had held off printing any info on the treasure hunt till now. But that wouldn’t run till this evening.

“Caleb did a wonderful job with the Pearl Project, his first as manager, didn’t he, honey?” Veronica remarked.

“Yep. Far better than we did in Mexico searching for those friggin’ lost Aztec relics. I never saw so many scorpions in all my life.”

Veronica laughed. “I think you’re as afraid of spiders as Caleb is of snakes.”

“That is one big mother of a snake. If a guy’s gonna be afraid of snakes, that would be the one.”

“Did you see the snakeskin collection his nephew Noah has over on that table near the refreshment table?”

He nodded. “Mark added a couple of Sparky’s, too. Cute kid.”

They looked at each other then. Her pregnancy remained new to them and a marvel. Every time they saw a baby or child, they shared the same thought.
We’re going to have one of those? Amazing!
It was still their secret. Maybe they’d share it at the party tonight.

“You know, this project will not only give Jinx, Inc., some great profits, but I have to give Caleb credit for coming up with this idea for an invited-guest-only extravaganza this morning,” Veronica remarked.

“I agree. Proactive rather than defensive way of presenting our story to the media. Goodwill with the community and publicity for Jinx, Inc.”

Caleb must have overheard them as he approached. “I wouldn’t have been able to put this together so soon or so professionally if I didn’t have help from Ross Bennett Consulting in Reedsville. You’ll be getting the bill.”

“Money well spent,” Veronica said.

“Bennett is a computer genius. He designed and produced all the brochures and graphics displays, even those for Jinx, Inc. Check out that high-definition large-screen TV that has a running video of the recovery operation, not to mention other Jinx projects. And those smaller DVD players have PowerPoint presentations on everything from history of the region to the mechanics of cave diving. We all had fun with the animated video he did of Robber Davie Lewis and his exploits. Very funny!”

“I love the treasure chest logo he used on the Jinx pamphlets,” Veronica said. “I assume we can use it in the future.”

“I love the way he described me as ‘Cool Hand Jake, the coolest professional poker player on the circuit today.’” He winked at her. “Not to mention the handsomest, sexiest, and wittiest—”

Veronica smacked his arm. “The brochure does not say that.”

“It hinted,” he amended, smiling at her.

God, she loved the rogue. More and more every day. “Well, the teamwork has been phenomenal.” Veronica waved an arm to indicate the various tents filling the area, all manned by project members, as well as Abbie, Mark, Mark’s fiancée Lily, the Park Service rep Dr. Claire Cassidy, Tante Lulu, Caleb’s Amish sister Lizzie, and Del Finley, a geologist. She and Jake would be handling the Jinx, Inc., table to promote the company. You never knew where the next job would come from.

Adam had brought in the inventor of the device that hopefully added luster to cave pearls. They were setting up a demonstration under one of the tents, where the cave pearls were exhibited nicely in a big silk-lined basket. Beside Adam, under the same tent, John was guarding an exhibit of Robber Lewis’s hidden treasure, along with historical data and pieces of the broken chest, not to mention the animated video on a laptop. As they passed by, she noticed that Adam and John were exchanging insults, as usual, this time about which one of them knew more about a woman’s G-spot. The inventor guy was gaping at their exchange.

“Hey, I could tell you about tantric sex,” Jake called out to them.

They all stared at Jake with interest, even Caleb.

She dropped her arm from around Jake’s waist and jabbed him with an elbow. “Behave.”

Rubbing his elbow, he pretended to be hurt. “Maybe not.”

In another tent, Mark, Lily, and Del had laid out numerous diagrams and photographs of the cavern and the project as it had played out. Actual tours of the cavern would not be permitted today for liability reasons.

Brenda, who’d returned with them from Mexico, was helping Lizzie over at the music tent. There had been some arguments about what to play while the visitors strolled the grounds. Jake had wanted Sting and Police songs, his favorite. John had wanted Cajun music. Lizzie had wanted country. Famosa pitched Cuban. In the end, soft Mozart played in the background coming from several strategically placed speakers. The rental company who’d supplied the tents, tables, and chairs had also provided a mini stage and dance floor for the party tonight. Mozart would not be played then, that was for sure.

Tante Lulu was handling the refreshments, with Brenda’s help, now that the music situation had been ironed out. They’d had to curb her enthusiasm. If she’d had her way, they would have been providing a feast for their guests. In the end, they’d settled for cheese trays, small sandwiches, and wine or soda. The old lady had been promised she could go whole hog for the feast this evening, and she’d taken them literally. A hog was roasting in one of those rental pig thingees on the other side of the house.

Veronica was glad to see Brenda keeping herself busy. She’d been unusually quiet and rather depressed on this trip. It might have something to do with a
People
magazine article on her ex-husband Lance Caslow, a Nascar driver, although Brenda claimed to have no feelings for the renowned womanizer anymore. In the magazine, he’d been shown kissing some young starlet who had a thing for race car drivers. Rumors abounded about an upcoming marriage. The only remark Brenda had made about the photo, which Jake had shown her with typical male cluelessness, was, “You could fit two of her in my jeans.” Brenda had weight issues.

When Veronica had called Jake on his insensitivity in showing Brenda that picture, he’d said, “But she says she’s over the guy.”

Her response had been, “Sometimes men have the brains of a gnat. Just because a woman says she doesn’t care doesn’t mean that she doesn’t care.”

“Huh?” he’d responded.

They came to the next tent, where Abbie was showing off some copies of the Franklin journal she’d found in her attic. She’d decided to give the public only a peek at some pages, wanting to save the rest for a book Mark and Lily might want to write.

Sharing the tent with Abbie was Claire, who was talking to Del. She wore full Lenni Lenape Indian clothing, from moccasins to feather in the headband. Before her she displayed Abbie’s collection of Native American artifacts taken from the cavern in the past, along with her own regional collection. Arrowheads, tomahawks, fetishes, and various histories of the Lenape in this area over the years, plus two large foam boards on easels showing Indian trails and Indian villages in Pennsylvania during the 1700s and 1800s.

Veronica was about to join Claire and Del when she noticed the expression on Caleb’s face. He was watching Claire with what could only be described as hunger. At one time, before she and Jake had reconciled, Caleb had hit on her. It had been only a halfhearted attempt, she realized now. If he’d looked at her like that, who knew what she might have done? Well, actually, she did know. She wouldn’t have succumbed, because of Jake. Still . . .

Jake was talking to Abbie, leaving her and Caleb alone for a minute. “So, do you and Claire have a thing going on?”

Instead of denying it, as she’d expected, he said, “Not anymore.”

She arched her eyebrows at him.

“She wants to have my baby.”

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Is that all?”

“No. She wants to live on a farm.”

“Okaaay. A farm and babies. That doesn’t sound unreasonable.”

“To me it is.”

“Not if you love her.”

His head swiveled so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash. “Who said anything about love?”

“I don’t know, Caleb, but take it from someone who’s been married and divorced four times. Love is everything.”

He glared at her and walked away.

Yep, he was in love, all right.

Chapter 17

Caught ya! . . .

Claire had either been busy all morning or she was avoiding him like the plague. Probably both.

The guests had left after a successful press conference introducing the Pearl Project and the cavern to the public. Abbie and Tante Lulu were cooking up a storm in the kitchen for tonight. Lizzie and Brenda were sorting through some CDs, preparing for the entertainment.

LeDeux, Famosa, and Del had gone in to State College to pick up the Lousiana family members at University Park Airport. Yes, so many were coming that three vehicles were required. Plus, Del had a truck, which was needed for another of Tante Lulu’s hope chests and a bushel of crawfish.

Ronnie and Jake were on the other side of the house, tending the roast pig. Its succulent scent, along with delicious odors coming from the kitchen, made his stomach growl with hunger. He couldn’t recall having eaten today. Too much to do.

The caterers were removing some tents, tables, and chairs and replacing them with others. Apparently there was going to be a bayou theme to tonight’s combination birthday party, reunion celebration, and military honors. At least, he thought that was fake moss they were hanging from some of the trees. Little American flags were tucked in the table centerpieces. And oh, good Lord, there were tiny twin Amish dolls, portraying him and Jonas, he assumed, in the centerpieces. Jonas would have a fit . . . if he even showed up. Amish, and Mennonites, for that matter, didn’t like images made of themselves, whether they be photographs or dolls.

Finally, finally, finally, he saw that Claire was alone. On the other side of the stream, by the cavern, dismantling her wigwam.

He walked over as quietly as he could, a skill learned as part of special-forces training. He didn’t want to give her another opportunity to run off.

“Hey, Claire,” he said.

She jumped, almost dropping the limbs she was bundling together. “Caleb,” she acknowledged. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

Silent, he began to help her, picking up the thin striplings, then rolling up some of the skins, which she’d brought with her from her home.

“You should be proud, Caleb. The project was a huge success. You and Ronnie were great during the press conference.”

He nodded. “I’ve missed you.”

She closed her eyes for a second. Apparently, this was not a subject she wanted to pursue.

Well, screw that! “Have you missed me?”
Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

“You know I have.”

“Then why can’t we be together?”

“For how long?”

His face heated up. “I’ll be here another two days. Gotta tie up some loose ends. And make some plans for Lizzie.”

“Oh? And am I a loose end?”

“Absolutely.”

She shook her head as if he were clueless, which he was. “I care about you, Caleb, but two days of wild monkey sex and poof! doesn’t work for me.”

Wild monkey sex? Oh, man, she had to mention that!
“You care about me? You said you loved me.”

She put both hands on her hips. “You say that as if you like the fact that I love you.”

He shrugged. “I’m flattered.”

“You are such a . . . man. Go away, Caleb. Good-bye. Nice to have known you and all that.” She turned her face away from him. He suspected she had tears in her eyes she didn’t want him to see.

“I can’t.”

She faced him then, and yep, her eyes were glassy with tears. “Can’t what?”

“Go away.”

“Ever?”

Heated face again. “No. Just not yet.”

She said a foul word under her breath, then tossed the roll of skins to the ground and stomped off toward the bridge.

“Where are you going?” he asked, following after her.

“Home? I need to take a nap before tonight’s party.”

“A nap sounds good to me.”

“Give it up, Caleb. Not gonna happen.”

Midway across the bridge, he grabbed hold of her upper arm, pulling her to a halt. “I don’t want to give it up, Claire.” He gulped, then added, “I don’t want to give you up.”

She tilted her head in question. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so freakin’ mixed up.” He pulled her into his arms and held her tight in his embrace so she couldn’t escape. Kissing the top of her hair, he whispered, “Don’t let me go.”
Yet.

She put her arms around his waist and kissed the side of his neck. “Oh, Caleb.” He had no idea what she would have said or done next, because two people were crossing the yard, coming toward them. Amish people. People he didn’t recognize. No, wait a minute, they weren’t Amish. They must be Mennonite. Maybe friends of Jonas.

Actually, there came Jonas, truck tires squealing, into the parking lot with his three kids. And there came Lizzie, running from the other direction, as if alarmed about something.

The man, who was older, in his fifties or sixties, wore typical black broadcloth pants with suspenders over a lavender shirt. His white hair and beard were neatly trimmed. Beside him was a short woman, also older, whose white hair was pulled off her face into a white prayer cap. She wore a calf-length dress with short sleeves of a pale blue material with pink flowers.

“Caleb!” the man and woman called out to him, alternately.

Slowly, he eased himself away from Claire and began to move toward the couple. It was like a slow-motion vignette. Them moving toward each other. The buzzing in his ears. Then slow recognition.

It was his father and mother.

“Dat? Mam? What does this mean?”

“Me and Mam have decided to go Mennonite.”

“What?”
WHAT?

“We decided ta come tell ya now ’cause we can’t come to yer party later. The music and dancing and whatnot, dontcha know?” His father put an arm over his mother’s shoulder and squeezed. They both smiled at him, expectantly.

“Is this a joke?”
No. Amish didn’t joke like that.

“A wonderful-goot adventure fer old folks like us, ain’t so, Caleb?”

Jonas ran up, out of breath, and stood beside him and Claire. “I tried to warn you, but your cell phone wouldn’t answer,” Jonas whispered to him.

“What do you mean? You’ve been Amish all your lives. You can’t just change now. Can you?”

“No one’s stoppin’ us. Oh, they’ll try, but me and Mam, we decided jist what we’re gonna say.”

“And that would be?”

“Shun my boys, and ya shun us.” His father’s lips went rigid, but there was a sort of pleading expression in his eyes. His mother’s, too.

“Dat . . . Mam . . . you don’t have to do this.”

“
Jah,
we do,” his mother said, reaching out for him and Jonas both with a sob.

His father put an arm around them, too. A friggin’ group hug!

At first there was just the scent of his mother’s Ivory soap and his father’s tobacco, and the sounds of gentle sobbing. Then, with a laugh, not even caring that his eyes were wet with tears, he pulled away and asked, “What brought this on?”

“Well, yer Claire, of course,” Dat said. “When I was fly fishin’ over at her place, she set me straight, fer sure and fer certain, she did.”

My
Claire? Dat fly fishing at Claire’s? When was this? He turned to the woman who apparently had meddled in his life once again. Not that he could blame her when the results were this good.

But Claire was gone.

The old lady could still shock them . . .

John leaned back against the kitchen sliding glass door, watching his family as they surrounded Tante Lulu, everyone talking at once. There were sixteen of them, including the kids who were running around the yard.

Two of the older kids had already been warned not to go into that cavern and try to catch the big snake. They were LeDeux kids. They probably wouldn’t listen. John was betting on a visit to the emergency room before morning.

A couple of the kids were being helpful, though. Setting the tables for Abbie and Lizzie, who was wearing her Amish attire today, which fascinated Luc’s three little girls. “Can you twirl?” he heard one of them ask.

“Huh?” Lizzie bent down to hear what the little girl asked.

And Jeannette, Luc’s youngest, spun around, making the hem of her skirt twirl.

Lizzie laughed and tried, but her skirt had no twirl at all. The three little girls frowned with disappointment. Apparently twirling was a requisite for a cool girl’s clothing.

“I’ve got some news for everybody.” This was Charmaine speaking from her perch on her husband Rusty’s lap. She was all dolled up in her usual big black Texas hair, a red skirt so short she about gave Caleb’s father a heart attack when they’d arrived, a tank top that spelled out in sequins, “Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow,” in line with her hair salons, and red high-heeled stiletto sandals. Bimbo to the max and proud of it, that was their Charmaine. Not that her husband minded. Even after three years of marriage, Rusty was crazy in love with his ditzy wife.

“Is it ’bout those couples’ massage tables?” Tante Lulu asked, sipping at a glass of sweet tea.

“Oh, you heard about that? Tee-John, you have a big mouth.”

“Hey, who said it was me?”

“I told her,” Luc admitted.

“Anyhow, back to my news,” Charmaine said. “Me and Rusty are gonna have a baby.”

The women—Sylvie, Rachel, and Val—all screamed with glee and rushed over to hug Charmaine, practically knocking her off Rusty’s lap. The men all offered congratulations to the proud, red-faced papa-to-be. Tante Lulu grinned smugly as if she already knew.

It was good news. He knew for a fact that Charmaine and Rusty had been trying for more than a year. God bless the fun of trying, had been his opinion.

“I brought your heart medicine,” Luc said then, which immediately quieted the whole patio. “And I had a long talk with Doc Pitrey.”

Tante Lulu glared at Luc. “The doc ain’t ’lowed ta talk ’bout me. I know all ’bout the privacy laws.”

“Well, apparently those laws haven’t made it down to Loo-zee-anna yet.” Luc was a lawyer. He ought to know. “Doc Pitrey said you don’t have a heart problem, that the pills are for indigestion.”

“Heart, gas, whass the difference?”

“Big difference, auntie,” John chimed in. “You scared the bejesus out of me and Luc when ya said ya needed heart medicine. Could it be ya were tryin’ to trick us inta somethin’?”

“Who? Me?” His aunt actually had the nerve to appear affronted at the suggestion. Then she jumped to another subject. “Did anyone check on my garden this week?”

“I did.” Rachel, who was married to his half brother Remy, waved her hand. “You have an awful lot of ripe tomatoes. I put most of them in the fridge. And okra. Lordy, Lordy!” She rolled her eyes.

“Thass good. I already put half of that basket ya brought into the gumbo fer t’night.” For emphasis, she walked over and gave the giant kettle a few stirs before replacing the lid. It smelled like home. Well, Tante Lulu’s home. His home with his notorious father smelled more like booze. Not that he was living at home these days.

It would be good to go back to the bayou. He’d found over the years that he could stand only so much of the North before he missed the Southern dialect, Southern food, and yep, Southern belles. He would miss Jinx, though, once he started police work. A new phase of his life.

Just then Ronnie and Jake came up, holding hands. They’d gone for a walk to work off the heavy lunch they’d had after the big to-do this morning. Following them were Peach and Famosa.

“You wanted to talk to us about a business proposition?” Ronnie said to Tante Lulu.

All eyes turned on their unpredictable aunt.

This was a surprise. What was she up to now? As one, he and his half brothers, half sister, and the in-laws said, “Uh-oh!”

“Shush!” Tante Lulu said to them. “Sit down, sit down. Have some tea.”

When they were all settled, she said to Ronnie and Jake, “I wanta hire ya fer a treasure hunt down in Loo-zee-anna.”

“Whaaat?” some of them, himself included, exclaimed. The others just dropped their jaws with surprise.

Except for Caleb. “What kind of treasure hunt?”

Was he taking his ditzy aunt seriously?
Mon Dieu!

“Jean Lafitte’s buried treasure.” Tante Lulu folded her arms over her chest and smiled as if she’d just announced she’d found the pirate’s treasure in her own back yard.

She hadn’t. Had she? “Where is it? How do ya know where it is?” John asked.

“I gots this friend, Lefty Delacroix . . .”

He groaned mentally. Crazy Lefty from Lafayette, who claimed to have been a pirate himself at one time. He and Tante Lulu would make quite a pair. The Fruitcake Duo.

“Lefty knows someone who knows someone who has this treasure map.”

“Auntie, hundreds of people have searched for that treasure over the past two hundred years, to no avail.” Luc was speaking in his cool, calm lawyer voice.

“I know that. But, jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, no one has tried since Hurricane Katrina. And, besides, everyone’s been searchin’ in the wrong place.” She beamed.

Luc and René put their faces on the table, their shoulders shaking. He didn’t know if they were laughing or crying.

After she explained in more detail, Ronnie said, “I don’t know. It sounds kind of risky. And expensive.”

“I gots the money. How much wouldja need fer my share?”

They all cringed. His aunt had no clue how much money was involved in these projects.

Jake shrugged. He was the one handling finances for Jinx, Inc., these days. “Two hundred thousand, maybe.”

“I got that,” Tante Lulu said with a whoop.

Another shocker from their aunt. Who knew she had that kind of money? Even Ronnie and Jake were taken by surprise. Jake had probably thrown that figure out hoping to discourage her.

“I’m not sure we could move to that project right away,” Caleb cautioned. “We have some other jobs we need to complete first, don’t we, Ronnie?”

She nodded, dumbfounded.

“Thass no problem. I got cannin’ ta do, and healin’ my patients and such. Mebbe next spring? Or the next year might be even better. Doan wait too long, though. I might be dead.”

Jake and Ronnie nodded hesitantly. They were probably hoping she would forget about it by then.