Sandra Hill - [Jinx] (9 page)

She shook her head to clear it of her inappropriate thoughts. “That journal that Abbie and Mark showed us this morning ratchets this enterprise up another notch or two, I would think. Not only will you be making history here, but chances are there’s more treasure to be found than the pearls. Even with a one-third cut, you could hit the mother lode of treasure hunts.”

“Yeah, but this is no longer a simple project. We’re going to have to build a walkway from the path through the mud and bat shit, over to the wall. Not an easy job when trying to avoid damage to those crystal stalagmites rising from the floor, or hitting our heads on the stalactites hanging from the ceiling. And snakes . . .” He shivered. “I must have flung a dozen of those buggers out of my way this morning.”

“Sparky’s kids, no doubt.”

He pinched her arm for razzing him. “My luck that Sparky’s a superstud. Anyhow, Famosa and Mark went into Tyrone to get some precut planks. We can get to work once they get back.”

“Didn’t you already know this about the cavern? I saw your maps last night.”

“We knew the logistics, except Abbie and Mark have now decided that they might want to develop Spruce Creek Cavern as a tourist attraction, and that means minimal or no damage to the formations. They’re demanding extra-special care. That’s not the worst thing, though. That boulder has got to be chipped away, bit by bit, and the pieces removed carefully from the cavern. Again, to preserve the natural state. Which I can appreciate. LeDeux is trying to rent some tools from the archaeology department over at Juniata College so we can chip away at the boulder, granule by friggin’ granule.

“And we need way more lighting and longer extension cords. And, by the way, you never mentioned that you’d been semi-engaged until recently.”

“It appears that Adam has a big mouth,” she said. The question was why. Why would Adam consider her personal relationships important enough to mention to Caleb? “When I was studying the maps last night, I pointed out some of the unusual rock formations to Adam. The only reason I know about that kind of technical data is that my friend Del Finley, a geologist from Penns Valley, has studied caverns in the region. We’re just friends.” Actually, she might have hinted to Adam, when he pressed her for a date, that she had something going with Del. But semi-engaged? She’d never used that term.

Was Adam goading Caleb?

Why would Caleb care?

“Friends with benefits?”

Whoa!
“What gives you the right to ask that?”

“When you ask a guy for a sperm donation, that gives him rights. Why didn’t you get Del to be your sperm donor?”

“I didn’t want his sperm.”

“Should I be flattered?”

“I’m thinking seriously about pushing you over this rail and into the creek.”

His lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “Hey, I’m sorry. I was being an ass.”

“Yes, you were.”
The question is why?
“Del is a friend. Adam was yanking your chain.”

“Oh, great! That makes me feel better.”

“Del’s a nice guy, though, and I don’t rule out a connection in the future.” She had to add that to get the last word in, even though it was a lie.

Unfortunately, the ass wasn’t about to let that happen. “Just out of curiosity, how many men have you mentioned that ticking-clock business to?”

Just you.
“Dozens.”

He scowled at her.

And Claire was oddly pleased.

Caleb glanced around at the serene setting with absolutely no human activity taking place. He exhaled on a loud whoosh. “Holy hell, we’re gonna be here a month at this rate.”

The conversation they’d been engaged in the last ten minutes contained more words put together at one time by this usually taciturn man than usual, so she just let him keep talking.
Would a month here be so bad?
she wanted to ask, but she knew it would set off alarm bells in Caleb’s already red-alert system where she was concerned.

“I heard John on the phone before he left. Sounded to me like he was making a date.”

“Hah! No surprise there. LeDeux could work as a garbage collector and manage to attract chicks. In fact, Famosa came crawling into my room about two A.M. last night. Don’t think that didn’t give me the creeps. But he only wanted to sleep in the other bed. LeDeux brought some babe to the room he was sharing with Famosa. How could the kid have possibly hooked up so soon out here in the boondocks?” He paused. “I talk too much when I’m around you. Dammit.”

“Do I fluster you?”

“Fluster? Now, there’s a new word. Not my favorite F-word, but it’ll do.” He winked at her. “Yeah, you fluster me.”

That wink went straight to unmentionable places in Claire’s body.

She decided to get back to the subject at hand. “I can help with the walkway and with the rock. Mark could help, too, if we manage to get him up to the ledge, which I think would be a good idea, regardless.”

“And why is that?”

“He needs to be needed.”

“Says the shrink?”

“You don’t have to be a psychiatrist to know Mark is hurting. This project could be a jump-start out of his depression. And developing the cavern into a tourist site would be a new career path for him.”

“You’ve thought all this psychobabble through, huh?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Not everyone has to be a gloomy gus all the time.”

“Gloomy gus?” He smiled, and Lord, his smile could make a nun melt. Reaching out, he used his fingertips to twine an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant, but she did press her lips together just to make sure her tongue wasn’t hanging out. “And you shouldn’t touch me.”

“That was not touching, baby. Believe me, when I touch you, you’ll know it.”

“What a macho thing to say!”

“Ya think?” Raking the fingers of both hands through his short hair, he stared at her. “You know that we’re going to end up in bed together, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

He arched his eyebrows in question. When she remained silent, he said, “Please don’t tell me you were serious about the baby making.”

“I was serious, all right.”

“And that would be your condition before letting me in?”

Letting him “in”? Ooooh, boy, I am in over my head.
“I didn’t say that.”

His eyes raked her body. Slowly. And you would have thought she wore a bikini and not a long-sleeved PSU sweatshirt, jeans, and hiking boots. And a stupid hard hat scrooching her hair down. He was probably fixating on her freckles again.

“I’m good,” he said.

I don’t doubt that for one minute. Navy SEAL. Stam-ina and all that. But if he thinks he can disconcert me so easily, he’s got another think coming.
She laughed. “Hey, sailor, I’m pretty good myself.”

That got his attention. She could tell by the slight tensing of his jaw and the flare of his nostrils. He was an expert at hiding his emotions, though.

He leaned his head down, inch by inch, giving her every opportunity to pull back. Instead of kissing her, though, he laved her lips with his tongue, then blew against the wetness.

Kiss me.

Still only a hairsbreadth away, he whispered against her mouth, “I want to lick you. All over. Till you beg.”

“I don’t beg,” she rasped out.
Kiss me.

“You will,” he promised, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip.

Kiss me. Dammit!

Never actually touching her with his mouth or his hands, he moved his lips from side to side, over and over, almost but not quite kissing her.

It was the most infuriating, tantalizing thing he could do. And he knew it.
Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

He was running a fingertip, light as a feather, along the curve of exposed skin from her chin to her collarbone, then back up.
Who knew I was so sensitive there?

Claire couldn’t let this man have the upper hand like this. “We’ll see who’s the one to beg first.” With a grunt of disgust, she took him by the ears, tugged him closer, and kissed the bejesus out of him. Then she drew back slightly, nipped his bottom lip with her teeth, and swung around, walking away.

She thought she heard him moan.

Moaning was definitely the first step toward begging.

Unfortunately, his moan made her feel like begging.

Time flies when you’re having fun . . .

By the end of day two of the project, they had chipped away fifty gallons of rock flakes and chunks. Speck by speck. Minute by minute. Still, half the boulder remained.

With the improvised pulley system they’d erected, those up on the ledge filled the metal buckets, which went down to those on the path, who carried the debris outside, where it was dumped into a sinkhole to be covered later with topsoil and grass seed. It was a painstaking procedure, but necessary to maintain the integrity of the cavern.

He glanced over at Claire and Mark, who were on the other side of the boulder, talking excitedly about the project as they worked. They’d managed to get Mark up here with their support on the rope ladder. He’d been reluctant at first, but once on the ledge, he was as excited as the rest of them. Claire had been right about involving Mark in the project.

“Pennsylvania Archives.” “Oral histories, deed books, microfiche.” “Family genealogy papers.” “Pennsylvania Indian wars.” “Juniata: River of Sorrows.” These were snippets of their conversation that Caleb was able to glean. The two chatterboxes weren’t even deterred by the paper respiratory masks Caleb had ordered everyone to wear against the bat guano. Nope, the two of them were planning a joint research project, possibly even a book, about the history of the cavern. Caleb had already photographed everything in sight from every possible angle. Claire recorded audio data on each step of their work, which would later be translated by voice transmission onto a laptop. Now all they needed was to find some treasure.

“What do you say we quit for the day?” he yelled down to Famosa and LeDeux, who were as sweaty and dirty as he was after all their carrying and dumping.

“Think we’ll break through tomorrow?” LeDeux yelled back.

“We better. Meet us inside in an hour for a planning session.”

Famosa and LeDeux headed out, waving up to him. From the distance he heard Famosa holler, “Hey, Peach. Sparky is hanging around here, as if he’s just waiting for someone. I think he’s got the hots for you.”

They all knew by now the aversion he had to snakes, and they bled it for every ounce of humor. Not that he was laughing.
That snake is just achin’ to be made into a pair of shoes.

He stood and arched his back to work out the kinks. To his satisfaction, he noticed Claire noticing him.
Am I pathetic or what?
Well, after the way she’d kissed him yesterday, then tossed out that challenge about who would beg first, he’d been noticing her a lot, too. They were both acting pathetic.

It took Caleb and Claire a good half hour to help Mark down off the ledge and onto his shaky legs on the path. Caleb could have asked Famosa and LeDeux to stay and help, but he figured Mark was embarrassed enough. Caleb followed Claire and Mark along the corridor, turning off lights in their wake.

He took special delight in watching Claire’s rear end in front of his face going up the steep steps. Till she glanced back and gave him a glower that pretty much said, “Stop looking at my ass.” Which he totally ignored, of course.

When they got to the area of the cave where only sunshine crept inside a short distance, he noticed Sparky drop down off the ledge and stretch himself across the entrance, just daring him to get near.

“Get a life!” he said, jumping over the snake before it could take a bite out of him.

Mark and Claire were grinning at him when he got outside.

“Get a life!” he told them, too.

They were headed across the back lawn toward the house when an Amish horse and buggy pulled into the front parking lot. He didn’t think it was Jonas, since he’d seen a pickup truck with a Peachey Landscaping logo on it last night. The Mennonites were more lenient than the Amish when it came to electricity and motor vehicles.

No, it was a young Amish woman alighting. She wore a long blue cape dress with a black apron, her blonde hair parted down the middle and all tucked severely under a mesh prayer cap with ties dangling, the black color denoting her single status. She was pretty in a plain sort of way. Coming closer, she smiled tentatively, as if unsure of her welcome.

“Hullo, Caleb.”

He cocked his head to the side, still not able to place the woman, who was probably in her late teens. He kept walking with the curious Claire and Mark in tow.

“Caleb?” the girl said, coming up closer.

He nodded.

“Dontcha recognize me? I’m your sister Elizabeth.”

Aaah. Now he saw the Peachey family features. The honey brown eyes, strong chin, straight nose, and unusual height. She must be five-eight, at least. “Lizzie?”

“
Jah!
” Her bottom lip began to quiver then, just like it had when she was two. “Can I come live with you?”

“Huh?” She launched herself at him, almost knocking him over. With her arms around his shoulders and her wet face in his neck, she proceeded to sob loudly and explain something to him. Reluctantly, he placed his arms around her, trying to calm her down.

All he could make out between her sobs was “Dat . . .
Ordnung
. . .
Rumspringa
. . . music . . . idol . . . marriage.”
Ordnung
was the unwritten rules of the Amish for holy living. Then she ended with the usual teenage complaint, “My life is over. I gotta come live with you.”

Patting her on the back, he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of Ivory soap. Good Lord! How could he have remembered that scent after all these years? It had been one of Mam’s few concessions to store-bought goods.

“Please, Caleb, ya gotta help me.”

He was about to tell her that she couldn’t move in with him because he didn’t have a permanent home, just a one-bedroom apartment in Asbury Park, and besides, what did he know about raising teenage girls? He didn’t even know her, ferchrissake. But the sound of a horse clop-clop-clopping on concrete could be heard from the highway.