One of the other guides, Marshel, ambled over and offered to take the waywiser. “Stay there in the shadows fo’ a little bit, Mistuh Bale, an’ let yo’ eyes adjust. It’ll go easier on ya if you don’ fo’ce it too quick.”
Devlin decided to take the man’s advice. He released the handle on the instrument and inched to the deeply shadowed area just inside the cave’s opening. He kept his gaze low, his eyelids barely open, and slowly lengthened the time between blinks until he could bear to hold his eyes open without cringing.
Marshel stood not far away, grinning at him. “Bettuh?”
Devlin managed a small smile. “Better. Thank you. What time is it?”
Belvy pulled his timepiece from his pocket and held it out to Devlin. The dial showed fifteen minutes past four. Late afternoon. For reasons beyond his understanding, he felt as if he’d lost days in the cave.
“Want I should put yo’ machine in the wagon? Tolly an’ Lee got ever’thing else packed up an’ ready while you was restin’ yo’ eyes.”
Devlin gave a start. How helpless he must appear to the other men. He’d tossed and turned with worry during their sleeping time, and now he cowered in the shadows instead of helping load the wagon. He strode from the shade and took hold of the waywiser, determined not to give them further reason to question his manliness.
“I’m fine now, Marshel.” He forced a smile, pretending the sun wasn’t stabbing his eyes. “Thank you.”
“I’ll mosey on ovuh to the wagon wit’ you anyway. Wanna talk some to Tolly.”
The two of them crossed the uneven ground to the waiting wagon. Lee waited in the back amid the packs and rumpled bedding. Devlin loaded the waywiser and then climbed in with Lee, listening to Tolly and Marshel’s conversation.
Tolly stuck his hand out to Marshel. “Ever’thing go all right while I was deep inside?”
“Jus’ fine, although some o’ the men been complainin’ about the extra duty. I kep’ tellin’ ’em, only a couple mo’ days an’ summuh season’ll be here.” Marshel chuckled. “Sometimes they’s worse’n little chillun.”
Tolly didn’t laugh. “They di’n’t shirk their duties though?”
“Oh, nossuh. All came an’ guarded jus’ like you set up. An’ di’n’t nobody sneak in. Although you might wanna talk to Belvy ’bout some fella who was botherin’ Miss Reb fuhst thing this mo’nin’.”
Protectiveness washed through Devlin. He leaned toward the two men, determined to hear the rest.
“She say she all right, but Belvy, he wanted you to know ’bout it any-ways.”
“Thanks, Marshel. I’ll ask ’im.” Tolly pulled himself onto the wagon seat, released the brake, and sent a smile into the back. “You ready to go, Devlin? Reckon you’s wantin’ a hot bath an’ a good dinnuh.”
He’d take a bath before bedtime, and he’d enjoy a sit-down dinner in the dining room, but first he wanted to get a few lines drawn on his map while the memory of the cave was still fresh in his mind. And of course, since his drawing materials were in Rebekah’s cabin, he’d get to see her, too. His chest went tight with the thought. He’d missed her. More than he’d expected.
Tolly drove the wagon to Devlin’s cottage first. Devlin braced himself before leaping out. “I’d like to put my waywiser inside, but then could you take me to Reb’s cabin?”
Tolly’s lips formed a firm line. “How come?”
“My map-making tools are there.”
“Yep, they is. An’ so’s…”
Devlin grabbed the waywiser and rolled it to the cottage. With it secure he heaved himself into the wagon bed and barked, “I’m ready.”
The rumble of the wagon’s wheels buried Tolly’s mutters. Minutes later the wagon rattled to a stop in front of the row of staff cabins. Tolly turned backward. “Lee, put the beddin’ an’ packs in yo’ cabin fo’ now. I’ll fetch ’em latuh. Aftuh you’ve rested up a bit, go to the kitchen an’ tell Coopuh we’s back an’ we’s gonna need mo’ victuals come Monday. Tell ’im I sure did like them oatmeal cookies if he’d be inclined to bake up a goodly batch.”
Devlin, half in and half out of the wagon, shot Tolly a startled frown. “Did you say Monday?”
“Yessuh.”
“How long will we stay in this time?”
“Mebbe…Monday ’til Thu’sday.” Tolly fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. “Then you can be drawin’ Fridays an’ Satuhdays, rest up good on Sundays, an’ we’ll head back in fo’ anothuh deep trek the nex’ Monday mo’nin’ ’til we gets the whole cave covuhed. ’Less you’s thinkin’ you wanna do all the explorin’ at once an’ all the drawin’ at the end.”
He’d never admit that his first thought about being under the ground four days of the week was it didn’t allow nearly enough time with Rebekah. It also cut short his exploration of the area aboveground, something else he shouldn’t mention. “No, your plan sounds fine, Tolly. I…I’ll get busy transferring these measurements to the page.”
“Fine, fine. Now hop on outta there so’s I can git my work done.”
Devlin slid to the ground, groaning a bit as a muscle in his back complained. He didn’t look forward to more nights on the hard cave floor. He held his satchel flat against his ribs and stepped up to Rebekah’s door, which stood open, telling him very clearly she was inside. He gave the doorjamb a series of taps with his knuckles.
“Come on in, Tolly.” Her cheerful voice carried from somewhere in the cabin.
Devlin cleared his throat. “Um, it’s not Tolly, Reb. It’s me.” He paused. “Devlin.”
Then there she was, thick braid falling sweetly over her left shoulder, smile lighting her face. “Devlin!” Instead of ushering him in, she joined him on the stoop. “How was the exploration? Did you cover as many miles as you’d hoped?”
He stood for a moment and simply enjoyed her presence, her welcome, her enthusiasm. She’d greeted him the way Mother greeted Father when he returned at the end of a day’s work, with smiles and questions about his day, interest glowing in her eyes. Even though they stood on a humble stoop instead of in a decorated vestibule, even though he wore a wrinkled, dust-smudged jacket and trousers instead of a crisp suit and her frame was hidden beneath men’s overalls and a plaid shirt instead of enhanced by a lacy day dress, the image of his parents’ greeting at the close of a day tangled with his current situation, and he automatically did what he’d seen his father do hundreds of times. He leaned down and deposited a kiss on her pink-flushed cheek.
She immediately clapped her hand over the spot and stared at him with wide brown eyes.
He jolted upright, more stunned than she appeared. “Reb, I…I…” He swallowed. Would she stop staring at him as if he’d impaled her with a sword? “P-please forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Her rosy lips parted. A soft gurgle left her throat. She closed her mouth, swallowed, then slowly lowered her hand. “Devlin, I—”
“I hate you!”
Both Devlin and Rebekah jerked their attention to the grass. The girl Devlin had encountered near the stream in the woods and then again beside the barn threw a woven basket on the ground and glared at them, red faced, her hands balled into fists.
Rebekah gave a lithe leap from the stoop and hurried over to the girl, reaching for her. “Cissy…”
Cissy—hadn’t Rebekah said she had a sister named Cissy?—darted back a step. “What’re you doin’ kissin’ him?”
“I didn’t kiss him,” Rebekah said.
“She didn’t kiss me,” Devlin said at the same time.
Cissy shot her glare from Rebekah to Devlin. “I saw you two kissin’.”
He crossed quickly to the pair. The fury pulsating from the younger girl was enough to melt steel. “We weren’t kissing. Yes, I gave Rebekah a little peck on the cheek. A hello after having been away for several days.” He wished he’d chosen a better time for such a personal greeting. Rebekah’s face still hadn’t faded from its bold pink, and her sister seemed ready to combust. “It h
ardly warrants such an adverse reaction.”
Her blue-green eyes widened. “But I— You— Oh!” She snatched up the basket and whirled away.
Rebekah started after her. “Cissy!”
Devlin caught her elbow and pulled her back. “Let her go, Reb.”
She begged him with her eyes. “But she’s hurting. I hurt her somehow.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You have no reason to apologize.” Would she believe him?
Suddenly her gaze narrowed. “Do you know my sister?”
He would never have guessed the two were related. Cissy held no resemblance to the other Hardin girls, and her changeable behavior also set her apart. “She and I have met.”
Rebekah aimed her puzzled gaze after her sister’s retreating form. “I wonder why she never said anything.”
“Our meetings were never formal, Reb. I doubt she even knows my name.” He led her back to the stoop. “I’m sure once the shock of what she saw dissipates, her anger will fade and she’ll be fine. As for what she saw…” He gazed into her velvety-brown eyes and couldn’t resist giving the end of her braid a little tug. “I’m sorry if I frightened you with that hello kiss. It simply seemed like the natural thing to do.”
She lifted her hand and touched her fingertips to the spot on her cheek where his lips descended. “It seemed very unnatural to me. You’ve never greeted me that way before.”
If he had his way, he’d greet her in that manner every time they’d been apart whether for days or minutes. But he’d aim better next time. Her full, rose-tinted lips seemed a much more delightful place to connect. He pushed aside the whimsical—or was it whimsical?—thought and forced a serious bearing. “I hadn’t faced the prospect of never seeing you again before now. Have you been into the depths of Mammoth Cave? It’s like entering the belly of a bear. No, a whale. No, a monstrous mythical beast that breathes fire.” He shuddered. “I feel fortunate to have emerged unscathed.”
Her lips curved upward. “You’re teasing. It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“If it were, would I be forgiven for kissing you?”
“Yes. I suppose.”
“Then believe me when I say it was that bad.”
Her smile faded. “Have you changed your mind then about completing a map of the cave?”
During his three days in the darkness, he’d questioned his intentions, pondered whether he wanted to witness the cave in its entirety. But quitting meant failing his senior project. It meant disappointing his father. And it meant never seeing Miss Rebekah Hardin again.
He shook his head. “No. I’ll finish.”
She smiled. “Good.”
But in order to complete the map and hopefully have some time during the days aboveground to do some more exploring for other openings, he’d need to put his hands to work instead of standing in the late-afternoon sunshine with Reb. Such a pity.
He slid his hands into his pockets. “I honestly didn’t come to give you a kiss of greeting. I came to add some tunnels to the map. May I take over the table in your cabin?”
A pretty blush stole over her cheeks. “I was folding my laundry before you knocked. Will you give me a moment or two to put everything away? Then I’ll leave you to your work.”
“Of course.”
She scurried inside, and he waited, pacing back and forth, for her return. Only a few minutes later she emerged and said, “You can go in now.”
He stepped onto the stoop and paused next to her. She looked up at him, both expectation and consternation in her expression. He couldn’t decide which to reward. Then she stepped aside, putting too much space between them for him to reach her even if he wanted to. “I’d like to spend at least a couple of hours this evening, if you don’t mind.”
“Take as long as you’d like. I can busy myself elsewhere.”
“Thank you.” He took one step toward the door, but then he paused and fixed her with a steady gaze. “Reb, Belvy said someone was bothering you at the cave entrance. Do you think it was the person who came in and helped himself to our torches and food?”
Once again her face flooded with color. She shook her head hard.
Such an intense reaction. Devlin’s curiosity instantly roused. “How can you be sure?”
“Because I know the person well. I grew up with him.”
Curiosity departed and a different emotion swooped in. “Oh?”
“Yes. His family owns the land behind ours.”
The Adwells, if he remembered correctly.
“Cal and I went to school together.”
Devlin frowned, folding his arms over his chest. “And why was he at the cave’s opening so early this morning?”
“He was looking for a job.” Her fine brows came together. “How do you know about Cal’s visit?”
He cocked his eyebrows and glowered at her. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is whether he intimidated you in some way.”
“Intimidated?”
Devlin nodded emphatically. “Belvy was certainly concerned, and so was Tolly. If this man…this Cal, as you call him…gave you any reason for fear or apprehension, I shall—”
Rebekah’s brown eyes flew wide, her lips parted, and a soft laugh spilled out. “Why, Devlin Bale, you’re jealous!”
Rebekah
“I am not.”
His firm statement didn’t convince her. Rebekah laughed again. “If you could see your face…You’re the picture of the indignant suitor.”
To her surprise he threw his hands wide. “Very well. You want the truth? Yes, I am jealous. I happen to like you, Rebekah Hardin, and the thought that some other man has been in your life since girlhood, is familiar enough to steal moments of your time in the early hours of the morning without causing you distress, and is viewed so fondly that you want to defend him makes me want to punch him in the nose.”
He wanted to punch Cal? “But you don’t even know Calvin Adwell.”
“I know enough to dislike him.”
She wanted to laugh again, but she couldn’t. His declaration that he liked her, that he was jealous of Cal, set her heart aflutter. But how could she let herself fall in love with a man who was here only for the summer? A man who belonged to a world far away from her beloved hills? She was treading on dangerous ground, and she needed to choose another pathway quickly.
“Devlin, there’s no reason for you to be jealous.”
His face lit with hope. “Because you don’t have true fondness for this Adwell fellow?”
“Because…” The words resisted release. But one of them needed to be sensible. And since he’d kissed her without a moment’s warning, clearly he wasn’t going to be the sensible one. Regret formed a fierce ache in the center of her heart. She sent up a silent prayer for strength. “Because we don’t have the kind of…relationship…that warrants jealousy.”
He took a step back. “Oh.”
She’d hurt him, which made her pain even worse. She blinked back tears and held her hands to him. “I like you, Devlin. But we can’t be more than friends. You and I, we’re too…different.” Would he understand?
“Different.” The single word demanded explanation.
“Yes.” She fidgeted before him, wishing he wouldn’t appear so stricken. “You’re from the city. I’m not. You’re educated. I’m…not.” He had to know these things. Why didn’t he stop her so she didn’t have to list her shortcomings one by one? “Your family is wealthy. Mine doesn’t have much more than a cabin and little plot of ground to call our own. You see? We’re…different.”
He stood still as a statue, his blue eyes pinned on hers for several seconds. Then he gave an abrupt nod. “I see.”
She wheezed out a breath. “Good.”
“I won’t kiss you again.”
She wouldn’t say “good” to that declaration.
“But I would still like for you to accompany me to more of the surrounding areas, continue to introduce me to people.”
“I’d like that. Becaus
e there’s something important I need to tell you.” She’d prayed every day during their separation for the chance to tell him how he could be sure he’d go to heaven when he died.
“Well, that important talk will have to come another time. I have work to complete.”
She wanted him to be more relaxed when she approached the subject of heaven. She offered a meek nod. “All right.”
“And I hope you’ll allow me the further use of the table in your cabin since I don’t have another place to work.”
Did he have to sound so stilted? “You’re welcome to work here as often as you need to. And I hope…” She swallowed. She wished the warmth would return to his eyes. They seemed so icy, so unlike the Devlin she’d gotten to know in the past weeks. “…we can discuss Hawthorne. And Dickens.”
His lips formed a grim line. “Of course. Anytime you like. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get busy on my map.” He turned and strode into the cabin. And he slammed the door closed behind him.
Cissy
Cissy ran until her lungs ached. Then, panting, she leaned against a tree and closed her eyes, waiting for the deep pain in her chest to ease. Her breathing slowed, but the pain remained. Cissy hugged the tree, battling tears. How could she? How could Bek let the man Cissy’d decided was going to be her beau kiss her? She’d never felt so betrayed and ashamed and angry all at once.
She should go home and give Daddy the fifty-five cents she’d earned from selling the mushrooms. She should help Mama put supper on the table. But she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to talk to somebody. Somebody who would feel sorry for her and tell her Bek was wrong to steal her beau. If she tried to talk to Mama and Daddy, they’d tell her she was too young to be thinking about beaus and would stick up for Bek the way they always did. But Pansy would be on her side.
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