Jake followed the motion of her hand, and raised his eyebrows. "How far did you go today?" he asked.
"Down past Mandy's and about half-way to the river and back," she said.
Jake let out a low whistle. "That's a hike even for you," he said. "Are you feeling better?"
On any given day, asking how Kate felt was a loaded question. Although her initial anger and frustration at her situation was gentling to acceptance, there were still explosive moments. Those times generally coincided with the realization that she could no longer do something that before the injury hadn't even warranted conscious attention on her part.
Since Jake's arrival on the ranch the previous fall, however, he and Kate had become good friends. Then, he'd been a Professor of Archaeology at Texas Tech University searching for evidence in the area related to the neighboring 18th century Spanish mission, Santa Cruz de San Saba. Now, thanks to the confounding discovery of a cache of Aztec artifacts on the ranch, he was the director of the Langston Lockwood Institute for Mesoamerican Studies.
The Institute was named in honor of Kate's father, who initially found the artifacts in the 1950s. Although he sold the bulk of the gold, Langston discriminately chose a small selection of the finest pieces to keep. Those items were now raising a storm of controversy in archaeological circles, with rising speculation that they could provide a clue to the location of the fabled lost treasure of the Aztec king, Montezuma.
In the intervening months, including the period of Kate's injury and recovery, Jake had quietly and patiently become her friend, never pushing against the protective walls she put up between herself and most of the world. Scarred by her father's dictatorial tyranny and constant criticism, Kate valued her autonomy above all things, a fact that made her injury all the more difficult for her to reconcile in her mind.
Jake had learned how to walk the fine line between what Kate scornfully called "coddling" her and expressing supportive concern. When he spoke with her, his remarks and observations were often tinged with the sort of dry humor Kate herself possessed and prized in a friend. That, more than anything, broke the initial ice between them and laid the foundation for the easy rapport they now enjoyed.
In answer to his question that morning, she held up her hand in a gesture of impatience. "I guess I feel better," she said. "I sure as hell got in my exercise for the day."
Jake stood up. "Come on," he said. "Let's go back to the kitchen and I'll make us some ice tea."
As he started to come around the desk, a pile of books and papers came cascading to the floor where they joined an already impressive collection of academic detritus.
"Dear God," Kate laughed, "you haven't even been in this office three months. Look at this place! I'm already worried we're gonna find you buried alive under all this crap. Jake Martin, you are nothing but a hoarder with a PhD."
Jake grinned sheepishly. "I like to spread out when I work," he said. "And besides," he added defensively, "I know where everything is . . . kinda."
As the head of the Institute, Jake was deeply involved in unriddling the mystery of the stash of artifacts they'd found hidden in Baxter's Draw. Unfortunately, he was also inundated with correspondence and research proposals from scholars all over North and South America.
His self-defeating refusal to create an email filing system left Jake awash in printouts, which he stuffed inside the books he used to cross-reference his replies. Although he swore it all made sense, Kate's sister, Jenny, declared the whole thing one big "rat's nest." She routinely threatened to clean the room when Jake was out in the field. That threat alone was enough to cause the somewhat absent-minded professor to tidy up temporarily, but order never survived long in the ground zero of his desk space.
Jake and Kate walked through the Institute's lab where two of Jake's interns were examining images of the interior of the treasure cave in Baxter's Draw derived from ground penetrating radar. Kate greeted the two students, Chris Lawson and Amy Fielding by name, then asked, "Have you found anything yet?"
"It's hard to tell natural formations from potential artifacts," Amy said. "It would be better if we could get under the floor in there."
Jake shot her a warning look. "That decision hasn't been made yet," he said with crisp authority. "We'll see what we can find this way first."
A little over a year had passed since the discovery of the treasure in Baxter's Draw. The find had huge archaeological significance since there was absolutely no plausible explanation for the presence of Aztec artifacts in Central Texas. The cave, however, held even more enormous personal importance to Kate, Jenny, and Mandy Lockwood.
Their reclusive father used the cave as a personal sanctuary for almost 50 years. There he mourned the loss of his only true love by fantasizing a life with her through thousands of beautifully rendered sketches and paintings. The room he constructed inside the cave was the work of a master craftsman, and his daughters found themselves reluctant to see that destroyed in the interest of searching for more artifacts.
Jake, who was gently trying to get to know Kate on a level beyond friendship, absolutely forbade his extremely enthusiastic interns from raising the issue. "I'm sorry about that," he said to Kate, as they continued on to the kitchen at the back of the Institute building, which was actually part of Jake's living quarters. "They both have an Indiana Jones complex."
"It's okay," Kate said, sitting down on one of the barstools and watching as he mixed their tea. "They're young. Whatever might be up there in that cave could get their careers off to a fantastic start. I know that. It doesn't bother me."
"It bothers her," Jake said, gesturing out the window.
Kate followed his line of sight and saw her sister Jenny sitting under the live oak trees that surrounded the two converted shipping containers that formed her home and studio. She had set up an easel and was engrossed in painting a landscape of the high bluffs across from the Rocking L's front gate.
"I know," she sighed, remembering Jenny's ire at the suggestion that Langston Lockwood's private refuge be dismantled. "She's feels a connection to him in the cave because he created his artwork there. I don't think Jenny has really come to terms with that discovery yet. Daddy was a bastard about her artistic talents and all the while he was up there drawing and painting. She can't get that out of her mind."
Jake handed her a tall glass of tea. "She thinks your father was a hypocrite," he said.
Kate sighed. "I've had that conversation with her, too," she said. "Hypocrisy would be the easy answer. None of us really want to admit that Daddy was what our grandma called 'a might touched.'"
"Good one," Jake said. Tentatively, he added, "It's a difficult point to argue."
"I'm not arguing it," Kate said. "Daddy's mind broke over losing Alice Browning. I don't know what he would have done if he'd ever found out she was alive and right here in town for the past 40 odd years."
Indirectly, the discovery of the cave triggered the disclosure of even more life-changing information for the Lockwoods. When Jenny approached their mother's best friend, Clara Wyler, with questions about the events of years past, she learned that Langston drove his wife, Irene, to suffer a mental breakdown. While Irene was recuperating in a mental hospital in Austin, she had an affair with Phillip Baxter, not realizing that he was the estranged son of the family that owned the land adjacent to the Rocking L.
It was Phillip Baxter, not Langston Lockwood, who fathered the youngest of the three girls, Mandy. The fact of her baby's true parentage gave a dying Irene Lockwood the leverage she needed to ensure that her girls inherited the Rocking L, thwarting Langston's plans to leave the land to the State of Texas as a wildlife sanctuary.
In the process of learning these truths, the sisters also discovered that Alice Browning, disfigured and crippled from the accident that supposedly left her dead in 1956, had been living in a secluded house behind the city cemetery since the early 1970s.
Mandy accepted all these revelations with the same open-hearted warmth that
carried her through life. She was elated to discover that she and Jenny's fiancé, Josh Baxter, were first cousins, and she welcomed Alice, who now used the name Elizabeth Jones, as something very akin to a grandmother into her life.
In fact, Elizabeth brought with her a group of women who had served as her protectors for years. These included Clara Wyler and her sister, Mae Ella Gormley, who was the county clerk; Sugar Watson, the town's near-legendary hairdresser; Wilma Schneider, a retired registered nurse; and Lenore Ferguson, Elizabeth's daughter.
All of the women were now a part of life on the Rocking L. Sometimes Kate just shook her head at how much circumstances could change in such a short period of time. These days, the ranch that had been the private domain of their half-mad father buzzed with happy activity. Now that Mandy, newly married to the town mayor, Joe Bob Mason, was back from her honeymoon in Hawaii, work had begun on her long-desired pool, adding a daily parade of workmen in and out the front gate to all the other comings and goings.
Kate couldn't say that any of the developments of the last year and a half were bad, with the exception of her injury, but even that had forced her to rethink her own life in ways that weren't all negative or limiting. For as much as she loved the ranching life, she wanted to work with the land and the animals, not tell someone else how to do it.
Even though Josh, who had given up his career as a professional photographer to become the informal foreman of the Rocking L, was a good friend and an easy working companion, Kate often felt at loose ends. Over the past few years, as more than 40 vineyards went into operation throughout the Texas Hill Country, she'd watched the new endeavors with quiet interest.
Now, with Jenny in tow as company and sounding board, Kate had begun a series of day trips to visit the area vineyards and talk to the owners. She found them to be easy and congenial people, enthusiastic about being at the forefront of a movement to put Texas on the map for the quality of its wines.
Jenny, for her part, discovered that it was common for art galleries and artisans’ shops to be located close to or in association with the vineyards. As her awareness of the regional art scene grew, she began to consider the possibility of starting her own gallery, and was even toying with founding an artist's collective.
The long drives gave Kate and Jenny, who had the closest relationship of the three siblings, many hours to process the changes in their lives and to plan for the future. It was during one of those drives that Jenny expressed her adamant desire for their father's hermitage in Baxter's Draw to remain undisturbed.
“I know he’s not up there,” Jenny said, staring out the window of the truck, “but it’s the only place I’ve ever really been able to feel him. Do you understand that?”
Each of the girls struggled with resolving Langston Lockwood’s impact on their lives, and for Jenny the cave that had been her father’s unlikely art studio had taken on strong significance. The fact that Jake understood and respected that too only made Kate think better of the man.
"I appreciate how respectful you're being about Jenny's feelings over the cave," Kate told Jake. "I know it's making things harder on you."
A voice from the door of the small apartment interrupted them before Jake could answer. "It's not going to make things hard at all," Amy Fielding said.
Kate and Jake both turned toward Amy and saw Chris Lawson behind her in the small hallway almost dancing a jig of excitement.
"What's gotten into you two?" Jake asked. "Did you find something on the images?"
"We did," Amy said triumphantly. "We found a hinge."
"A hinge?" Kate said. "A hinge to what?"
"We think it's to a hidden trapdoor that leads to the space under the floor of the main living chamber," Chris said, grinning from ear to ear in his excitement. "We just have to figure out how to open it."
Kate and Jake looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Amy asked, looking perplexed.
"Langston Lockwood strikes again," Jake said.
67
Kate stared at the grainy black and white image Amy had just opened on the lab's 55-inch monitor. Using a stylus, Amy drew a red circle around two short, straight lines. "Okay," she said. "Now watch this."
With a few keystrokes the image was thrown into high relief and Kate could make out the faint outline of the mounting plates of two hinges. "Where is this in the cave exactly?" she asked.
Amy superimposed a diagram of the interior of the cave over the image and adjusted the scale of both views to match. The two hinges now appeared in the exact center of the single room. "I can't imagine why you’ve never noticed this," Chris said. "You have complete diagrams and photographs of the interior."
"I know exactly why we never noticed it," Jake replied. "We need to explain a few things to you about Kate's father."
Over the next few minutes, Kate and Jake described to the two interns how the map that led them to the treasure cave in the first place was hidden in a hinged compartment in the base of the fireplace hearth in Kate's study. "There are also secret hiding places in the rolltop desk," Kate said, "and, of course, you know about the door that leads into the cave itself."
"Actually, we don't," Amy said. "Dr. Martin hasn't let us go up there yet."
Kate looked at Jake with a shocked expression. "Why in the world would you do that?" she asked.
"Out of respect for the family," Jake said, unperturbed. "I made the radar images myself and all of the artifacts are here at the Institute. No one needs to be tromping around in the cave until I know the three of you are okay with that."
"Dear Lord," Kate said. "Thank you, but we never intended to hogtie your research. You certainly could have taken your staff up there and shown them how it works."
"Shown us how what works?" Chris asked, impatience tingeing the question.
"My father built a door with a fake facade to hide the cave," Kate said. "If you're standing outside looking at the canyon wall, you'd think it was a perfectly solid rock."
"Oh my God!" Amy said. "That is so cool! It's like something straight out of a movie. How do you get inside?"
"There's a small round stone to the left of the main entrance," Jake said. "It triggers the door, which swings open on its own. I think it must be piston loaded, but all the mechanism is hidden in the frame."
"Which means the mechanism for the trap door is hidden, too," Chris said, following Jake's line of reason. "That's why you've never seen it."
"Yes," Jake said. "It's the only explanation. There must be some way to draw back a cover over the trap door itself. We'll have to see."
“Your father certainly went to great lengths to hide the treasure,” Chris said.
Kate and Jake exchanged a look. These young people had no idea the lengths to which Langston Lockwood had gone to hide his secrets. The treasure was nothing compared to the alternate reality he’d created inside that cave. It had been, in his mind, the place where he’d lived out the life he wanted with Alice Browning.
“My father was a very thorough man,” Kate said noncommittally. “He didn’t do things halfway.”
"Can we go up there now? To the cave?" Amy asked, her eyes shining with excitement. "Please?"
"Slow down," Jake laughed. "We have to talk . . ."
"No, we don't," Kate interrupted. "We don't have to talk about anything. These kids are gonna bust if you don't let them out of this lab. Let's all go up to the draw and see what we can find. Come on. It'll be fun."
"But it'll take us two hours to get up there!" Jake protested.
"So what?" Kate countered. "It's just a little after noon and it doesn't get good dark until 8:30 thanks to this damned made-up government time. Come on, Professor," she teased, "loosen up."
Amy and Chris had moved to stand behind Kate in silent solidarity. They looked like a couple of kids on Christmas Eve. Jake knew when he was defeated. "Okay," he said. "Fine. The boss lady says we ride, we ride."
Kate clapped him on the shoulder with her g
ood hand, "Even if you did steal that line from Josh," she said approvingly, "you delivered it like a top hand." She turned to the two interns. "Either one of you know how to saddle a horse?"
"I do!" Amy said. "I was a summer camp counselor."
"Of course you were," Kate said. She eyed Chris. "You have any problem with horses?" she asked him.
"No, ma'am," he said. "I don't know how to saddle one, but I can manage not to get thrown off."
"Then you're a step ahead of where Dr. Martin was when he showed up on this place," Kate laughed. "Come on, Amy, let's go to the barn. You two round up any equipment you think you need, but keep it light. We leave in half an hour."
When Kate and Amy walked outside, Kate said, "I have to go talk to my sister for a minute. You go on to the barn. The tack room is at the back. My saddle has my initials on the fenders. Throw it on the big mahogany bay mare. Her name is Bracelet. She'll stand still for you if you use her name. Put any saddle you want on the old black. He doesn't care. His name is Horsefly, and he's liable to talk to you. Dr. Martin will ride him."
"What about me and Chris?" she asked.
"I'll pick a couple of horses for you all from the pen when I get to the barn," she said. "I won't be long."
Jenny heard Kate's footsteps as she approached, but didn't look away from her painting. "Why are you having that kid saddle horses?" she asked without preamble, delicately shading a portion of her canvas to match the deep shadows on the bluff.
"That's what I walked over here to tell you," Kate said. She described to Jenny what they'd just learned from the ground scans of the interior of the cave, and finished with a question. "You want to come along?" she asked.
Putting her brush down, Jenny turned on the small stool and looked up at her sister. "You won't let them tear anything up?" she asked, an odd note coming into her voice to match the apprehensive caution in her eyes.
Kate squatted down so they were on a more equal level. She rested her hand on her sister's knee both to balance herself and as a gesture of reassurance. "You know I won't," she said. "And I know I probably should have asked you about all this first. Sorry about that, but I got . . ."
The Lockwood Legacy - Books 1-6: Plus Bonus Short Stories Page 41