Unearthed

by Ann B. Morris

  Heaving a sigh, the old lady picked up where she’d left off before the unsettling distraction. “By the time JoAnn was three, Becker was the one who took care of her most of the time.” She closed her eyes again and shook her head. When she opened her eyes they glistened with unshed tears.

  Alex could tell the old lady was having a difficult time cutting through the pain of the past. “Please, GrammaU. No need to tell me anymore.”

  GrammaU waved Alex quiet with her hand. “Shucks, child, if you’re worried about me, no need. I been livin’ with this for a mighty long time. My Becker’s been livin’ with it a long time, too,” she added sadly.

  “If it weren’t for him takin’ over when his mama finally left, no tellin’ what would have happened to them. Including his pa. Took care of him, too, the best he could.”

  A heavy silence descended and Alex waited, wishing she were anyplace but here, yet completely drawn into the story of the man she had come to feel very deeply about.

  “By the time the poor baby got to the age of becoming a woman, it was too much for poor Becker to take care of her. By then, his pa, who had taken to the bottle early on when my girl first started runnin’ around on him, was good for most nothin’ a’tall.” She held her gnarled and twisted fingers out in front of her and tried flexing them. “This cripplin’ already had me good even then, so I was little or no help with his sister. Lord knows I wanted to be.”

  An unchecked tear slid down a weathered, wrinkled cheek, and Alex didn’t think she could bear to hear much more. But like the tears, the story couldn’t be held back.

  “By the time Becker was thirteen, we had to let JoAnn go to one of them homes where she could be taken care of right and proper. So Becker could finish school. He was always such a bright boy.”

  Alex had no doubt of that. Nor did she have any doubt that he must have suffered terribly when they took away his little sister.

  GrammaU wiped a tear from her eye and looked steadily at Alex. “That boy suffered so much after his sister left, I feared for what he might do. Went weeks without proper food, or even a good bathin’ if the truth be told. Then one day”—she clenched the pipe between her teeth and spread out her hands to the side—”he was almost like his old self again. Went on to finish high school, even tried goin’ to the state college for a while, but the need for money was more important.

  “He was all but supportin’ his daddy, by that time. Then, he vowed he would one day make enough money so JoAnn could stay in the nicest place he could find.” She pulled on the pipe again, but it had gone out so she laid it in the ashtray. “He saw that his pa had what he needed, and me, too. Although what I needed was more care than money. Becker gave me what care was necessary all the time. Still does.”

  Alex was on the verge of tears herself. She could almost see the young Beck, determined to go out and make his mark in the world. Mostly so that he could take care of those he loved. Her heart swelled with pride. She could only imagine what love Beck’s grandmother felt for her grandson.

  “To this day,” GrammaU added, “he pays for his baby sister’s stay in that nice home, and he visits her regular. She don’t get many visitors except her big brother, and her pa and me every once in a while.” She smiled at Alex. “Don’t get too many visitors myself. Guess that’s why I’ve rambled on so.”

  Alex finished the rest of her cold coffee. She needed something to wet her throat and clear her thoughts. Suddenly, she felt the need to be closer to the old lady. She got up, knelt by GrammaU’s feet, and covered the old lady’s hands with both of hers. “I promise I won’t breathe a word of your story to Beck. I’ll wait until he tells me himself.” And she was sure one day he would. Maybe one day soon. And when he did, she would let him tell her as little or as much as he needed.

  Then maybe, just maybe, she might find the courage to tell him the story of her life.

  ****

  The following morning, Alex was at the end of a fifteen-minute break when excited shouts came from the excavation unit where most of the team worked. The students resting with her under the shade of a young magnolia tree jumped up and ran with her toward the excited cries.

  Kent pointed to the corner of the unit he had worked with two other students.

  Alex crouched down and looked into the shallow pit. Her breath caught in her throat. Bones. Not one, but two, were visible under the thin layer of dirt not yet removed.

  Kent looked up.

  Alex smiled and nodded. “Very carefully,” she cautioned, as he followed her instructions and began the delicate task of brushing away more soil from the artifact. He worked under her guidance for what seemed like hours, each step in the process of recovery ratcheting up the already high sense of anticipation. As the find was handed up for bagging and cataloging, an eerie hush fell over the group.

  Alex took her tools from the canvas backpack and laid them on the ground next to her. Carefully, almost afraid to breathe, she started brushing then gently moving the earth until yet another find became evident. Slowly, with the tip of her pick, she lifted what appeared to be a thin strip of leather attached to an object that was almost certainly a piece of oxidized metal.

  A collective inhalation of air issued from the group.

  Her throat constricted and her heartbeat picked up so dramatically she had to consciously slow her breathing. It couldn’t be. But if it was…

  While her hands did their work perfectly and precisely, her mind assimilated all the words and phrases she’d amassed in the pages and pages of notes she’d taken from the material she’d read over the past week. Time passed. She had no idea how much or how little, nor did she care. Beads of perspiration popped out on her forehead, more from the excess adrenaline pumping though her body than from the dense, humid air.

  In an avalanche, faces and names wedged themselves between all the other thoughts flying through her brain. Evelyn. Oh, if only she were here. Jeremy. He would be out of his mind with excitement. Her find was perfect for what he worked on and for what they worked on together.

  Beck. He surfaced to crowd out even those whose lives revolved around the implications of what she now held in her hand. Yes, she wanted Beck to see this. She wanted to share with him this unparalleled joy.

  None of the students had any idea exactly what significance this find had other than its importance. She had not shared her hope this dig might prove that what was heretofore only legend was now an incontrovertible proof of fact.

  She was so euphoric the pall that stayed with her all morning after Beck left disappeared instantly. The tension previously stiffening her shoulders and had her jaws aching from being clenched seemed not to have happened at all. All she could think of was seeing Beck, telling him what she’d found, and revealing the rest of the legend as she’d promised.

  Afternoon arrived before the excitement abated, and the finds had been photographed, bagged, and recorded. Now, she could think clearly. She could plan. She would go home tonight to put the artifacts in her lab for safekeeping. Then, she would notify all the proper state personnel and her colleagues whose own work would be impacted by what she’d unearthed.

  Only now was she aware her shirt stuck to her back and perspiration beaded on her upper lip. She brushed away a few damp strands from her forehead, took the bottle of athletic drink someone handed her, and forced herself to get a grip on her emotions.

  She looked up at the clear, blue sky. No hint of the thunderstorms predicted by the morning weathercast could be seen. Getting back to Baton Rouge as soon as possible was even more imperative. She turned to Kent who lounged on the grass nearby, his back propped against a tree. “I’m heading home as soon as I can pack. We can go over tomorrow’s plans before I leave.”

  Kent rolled to one knee and looked up. “You plan on going back alone?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Yes, of course. I need to get to the lab to fill out forms. I have calls to make. Someone more important than me will decide if security needs to be in place now
or after a positive determination of authenticity is made. You’ll be in charge here until I get back.” Slowly, she made a full circle, searching the sky as she turned. “Hard to believe the weather forecasters expect a deluge tomorrow.”

  Kent got to his feet. “I should go back with you.”

  A frown creased her brow. “Why?” She already knew the answer he’d give.

  He leaned forward. “Well, I hate to bring it up, but you did promise Mr. Big-Shot you wouldn’t go off anywhere by yourself. He extracted a promise that I’d stay close.”

  Yes, those facts were all true, as unbelievable as they seemed. That Beck had made such an about-face and asked for Kent’s assistance had been the surprise of the day. Even more surprising than Beck’s strange behavior the night before.

  “Alex?”

  She looked at him. “Yes? Oh, I’m sorry, Kent. I got all tangled up in my thoughts. And I know what you promised, but that was before any of this happened. All bets are off now.”

  “Well, I don’t think….”

  She stomped her foot. She would not go head-to-head with Kent right now. “I’m returning to Baton Rouge, and I’m going alone. You’re next in charge. Stay with the group, and be prepared to get some work done in the morning if the rain hasn’t started yet. More now than ever, time is of the essence.”

  Her determination must have forced him to accept the inevitable, because after a few choice expletives, he marched off to begin loading the van.

  Alex sighed again but quickly turned her thoughts to more pleasant things. She could already feel the rumble of excitement bound to burst forth in the anthropological and local Native American communities when word of her discovery was received. She would be a very busy lady for the next few days. Probably for the next few weeks. Possibly even longer.

  Which brought another matter quickly to mind. Her puzzling relationship with Beck. One moment, they were on the brink of becoming intimate despite both their reservations. The next moment, she thought he might be looking forward to the day when he could cut loose.

  Yesterday was a perfect example. First, they’d picked up her car from his father’s house where she’d waited in the truck. Then, they’d driven over to his grandmother’s where he left her for three hours. A wonderful three hours she had to admit, but still she figured he didn’t want her with him during that time.

  On the way back to the cabin that evening, they’d stopped for Chinese take-out and eaten it amidst silence broken only by comments about the food and a few sentences exchanged about her visit with GrammaU. Then, he’d settled himself on the sofa in the living room and read the Sunday newspaper from front to back.

  She’d busied herself with the remaining unread articles on the legend and later pulled out her traveling iron and pressed a couple of khaki shirts on the kitchen table.

  Lights out came early when Beck declared he’d better call it a day so he could get an early start in the morning. He’d arranged an early afternoon flight out of New Orleans for the business meeting in Georgia.

  The morning had been no less tense when, after breakfast at a small chain restaurant, he’d followed her to the site and made quite a show of apologizing to Kent for his prior rudeness. Yes, the past twenty-four hours had been strange.

  Still, all she could think of was Beck. She wanted him here with her. She wanted to make love with him in the worst kind of way. She couldn’t deny it any longer. And a noncommitted relationship was fine. One without entanglements was, in fact, the only kind of relationship she would even consider.

  All she had to do now was find a way to convince Beck he should take a chance on her—that they should take a chance on each other.

  ****

  Beck hated airports. He hated crowded airports ten times more. And here he was, stuck in the crowded Atlanta terminal with a three-hour wait.

  He could kill some time going over the business deal with the mega-corporation in Atlanta for whom his consortium was just about guaranteed to work. This last meeting was primarily a formality where the consortium’s assets and credentials would be reviewed one last time by the corporation’s board of directors.

  In that regard, he had no real worry. While Five Star Construction Company, the corporate name for the consortium of contractors with whom he was associated, had no large project on tap at the moment, its reputation for first-class work was unparalleled.

  Where business was concerned, Becker St. Romaine’s personal standards and integrity were just as outstanding as the consortium’s. Anyone in the building trade from the nearest three states could vouch for that. Within a few weeks, they could be out of the current bind with the suspended shopping mall deal and deep in a project almost twice its size.

  Why then wasn’t he whistling a happy tune instead of sitting here deliberating which airport bar he would hit so he could forget what he should do about Alex? Shouldn’t he at least be happy he wouldn’t have to pull Ned’s ass from the fire for continuing with his asinine shenanigans?

  Most of all, shouldn’t he be happy he wouldn’t have to baby-sit a high-brow archaeologist now that he was near positive she was in no real danger?

  He’d damn well better straighten out his thinking and set his priorities straight where Doctor Alexandra Kingsley was concerned. They weren’t even in the same league. She was uptown and he was definitely downtown. He looked up and found himself standing outside one of the bars. Should he look for a coffee shop instead? He shook his head. Not really.

  Sliding into the first available booth, he signaled for service and unloaded his briefcase on the table while he waited. After he placed his order, he began reading the business documents before him. By the time the drink came, he had difficulty reading the complicated report.

  Two drinks later, he gave up any attempt to concentrate and stuffed the papers back into his briefcase. The cold, empty feeling in his stomach that had been with him since he’d said good-bye to Alex that morning disappeared with the warmth of the scotch.

  But the warmth soon intensified the ache in his loins that reminded him even more how much he wanted her. Since he’d quit smoking ten years before, he felt the first real craving for a cigarette and cursed under his breath.

  Another drink later, he had a plan. He would tell Alex she’d probably been right all along—no legitimate reason existed for him to stick around like he had. Especially after what his old man had told him, and he’d conveniently forgotten to pass on. Driving over the hilly terrain between the cabin and the site could have loosened some poorly connected wires. In plain words, no hard evidence existed someone deliberately tampered with her car.

  Going on the theory of better to be safe than sorry, he’d honestly believed at the time her best interest would be served not to reveal that little fact. But now, he had to put his own best interest first.

  She’d made it clear this archaeological project was only a temporary assignment, because what she really wanted was to get on with her work with that guy in Arkansas. And Beck was just about certain he’d be working this new job in Georgia.

  To hell with seducing her. One lay was as good as another. Sex was sex. That’s all he really wanted. Better not to start something that might cause problems down the line. Better to stay with what he already knew. Women like Cheryl wanted only sex and good times, but women like Alex, regardless of what they said, wanted forever after.

  As soon as his plane landed in New Orleans, he’d give her a call and explain how this new deal would take up most of his time. He’d say how maybe he’d stop by for a short visit before he went on his way. Maybe. But he wouldn’t make any promises.

  Yeah, that’s what he’d do, and he needn’t feel guilty, either. He’d swallowed his pride and made that creepy little bastard promise to keep a close eye on Alex. He should love that. That’s what he did all the time anyway. Keeping him at bay was Alex’s problem. She’d done it before Becker St. Romaine showed up.

  Okay, now that things were clear in his mind, he could forego a
fourth drink and opt for the coffee instead. He felt ten times better knowing he’d made the right decision. He whistled happily under his breath on his way to the coffee shop.

  Tomorrow would be the beginning of a brighter, less-complicated future for Becker St. Romaine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alex shot a glance at the dashboard clock. Ten minutes after ten. Had only eight hours passed since she’d first set out for home that afternoon? The time she’d been gone felt like days.

  Damn it, Beck, where are you when you’re really needed? In the past five hours, she’d tried to call him several times with no luck at all. Fat lot of good having his number did if he couldn’t be reached when she needed him.

  Was his cell phone out of range? He’d told her he would catch a plane back as soon as possible. Maybe he’d found one out this evening. That case had to be it. She blew out a sigh. He was probably aboard the plane on his way home, and his phone was turned off. Regardless, she had to keep trying. She’d promised GrammaU she’d do everything in her power to find him. And damn, she would.

  Her mind raced back over the unexplainable pull that prompted her to take the detour to Beck’s grandmother’s house on her way out of Mississippi that afternoon. She certainly hadn’t consciously planned it. She’d just found herself taking the detour she remembered was no more than a mile from the old lady’s house.

  She’d intended just to stop by and see if she could do anything for GrammaU before leaving for Baton Rouge. She certainly didn’t expect to find the woman standing on the porch waiting, she told Alex, for a taxi to go to the hospital.

  Alex’s heart had done a somersault. Her first thought was the old lady was worried she might be having a heart attack or a stroke and needed help.

  Then, she’d told Alex the real reason for her distress. Beck’s daddy had fallen and was in the hospital. He had given the admittance clerk Beck’s number as next of kin, but the hospital couldn’t reach him. Luckily, his father had her phone number and a hospital clerk called her.