by Heidi Hormel
“No one has to know.”
“Gwen and Stanley know. Glasgow and Iain know. My brother won’t have much choice when it comes down to it. The university has rules and procedures. Should make him happy, though. Iain can remind me he’s been telling me archaeology was about the lab and the detail, not the tales. But how will anyone want to hear about the details, if not for the tales?” Jones finally turned his face toward her and, even in the shadows, she could see the earnestness and the pain. “I’ve tried for years to do it Iain and Father’s way. After the Dolly-Acropolis, I should have returned to the fold, so to speak. Actually, I did. Then I remembered those damned journals. I just knew if I could once and for all settle the mystery of Kincaid’s Cache that I could study in the way I wanted, in a new way. I’ll certainly be studying in a new way. I’ll be learning exactly how to make all of those pleats in a kilt.”
Lavonda slowly, cautiously reached out to lay her hand softly on his steely forearm. Emotion thrummed through him. When he didn’t move or flinch, she reached down and took his hand. They sat for a moment like that. Connected palm to palm. “You are a good man. Don’t forget that.”
“Ha.”
“It’s true. Not only are you a good man, you’re intelligent, creative and committed. No matter what else happens to you, no one can take that away from you.”
“If you say so, but I’d like to keep something like my dignity.”
“Remember how I said I rode broncs?” She felt him nod. “It’s a sport where you fall...a lot. I learned my dignity had nothing to do with what anyone else saw. You know how many times I landed in a steaming pile? More than I’d care to admit. But I never worried about how I looked to other people.” When had she forgotten that?
“This isn’t about perception, my dear. This is reality. I went on a treasure hunt like a nutter and found what I deserved. Nothing.”
“You followed a story that’s been a mystery for more than a hundred years. Nothing wrong with that. You didn’t find anything this time.”
“You act like I’ll be back. My visa is being pulled and even if you can work a miracle, I don’t see any support coming from my home university or even keeping my job there.”
“I don’t admit that because—”
“I’m not a problem to solve. A pathetic loser that you need to prop up.”
She wouldn’t let him pull his hand away from hers. “I don’t think you’re any of those things.”
“I think I am.” He broke their connection, got up and strode off into the dark.
She wanted to run after him. Tell him that he wasn’t anything that he imagined himself to be. Maybe he was right, though. He wasn’t a problem to solve. If she wasn’t in it for the long haul, then she should allow him to find his own dignity. She went back into the tent, where she wouldn’t be tempted to chase him down.
* * *
JONES CHECKED ON the horses and donkey. He knew that Lavonda had already done this, but he had to occupy himself because he’d been so tempted to turn to her and take her in his arms. What a mistake that would have been. Her career and her life were getting ready to explode with possibility. His were imploding, like when they blew up those stadiums, everything collapsing in on itself. A big structure, leveled to nothing. He’d soon be less than nothing, selling pet kilts.
He did smile at the picture of the rotund Cat in a kilt. The smile fled quickly. Another twenty-four to thirty-six hours and he’d be facing a future without Lavonda... Nothing else mattered, really. Had he just thought that? Accepted that he loved her? Loved her more than archaeology? More than his own ambitions? More than himself?
“Crappedy crap.” Reese flicked an ear at him. Lavonda had even changed his ability to swear. What the hell was he going to do about this? “Nothing,” he said to the donkey. “An unemployed and disgraced archaeologist? Good thing we’re back at the ranch tomorrow. I can clear out. She can go to Hong Kong and have exactly what she’s always wanted, right?”
“Who are you talking to?” Lavonda shouted from inside the tent.
“No one.” He found himself, his boots and his not-so-lucky hat outside the tent flap.
“Don’t just stand there. Come in here,” Lavonda said as she pulled back the tent flap, naked and smiling.
He needed to walk away. Bed down by the horses. The lantern threw shadows over her body, creating shapes and mysteries he wanted to explore. For just tonight, he would throw away his certainty that he needed to leave Lavonda alone. Her head tilted in question.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m naked and I asked you into the tent.”
He moved faster than he’d thought possible, lunging through the flap and landing the two of them on the layers of air mattress.
“Maybe this is what I really came out here to find,” Jones said into her ear as his hand slipped between her thighs.
“That’s what she said,” Lavonda whispered back. He remembered the fun. The laughter. That’s what they had together. Sexual chemistry and laughter.
Jones chuckled against her neck, nuzzling his way from her collarbone back up to her mouth. He nibbled at the corner of her lips, using tiny flicks of his tongue to encourage her to open her mouth to him.
“Lavonda, my love,” he breathed into her ear. She shivered with lust. “Much better than any treasure.” His mouth sealed over hers so she couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then he moved again and they were both flying.
* * *
JONES CRADLED LAVONDA AFTERWARD. Her head fit so neatly beneath his chin as she lay sprawled on top of him. He savored every inch of her, knowing this had to be goodbye. He thought she knew the same thing. He wanted this farewell to last because he feared that being in her arms was possibly the only place he felt like himself.
Her teeth nipped unexpectedly at the hollow of his throat, just before she pushed herself up and asked, “Do you need to hydrate before we try again?”
He thrust forward, quickly finding the pace that had them both panting and gasping, until they were so close that he had no idea where he started and stopped. These minutes needed to last for an eternity. He closed his eyes tight and sucked in the scent of her and of their lovemaking, to last him a lifetime. He knew what would come next as she began to pull away from him. He made one last effort to hold on.
She cleared her throat as she wiggled away. “I’ll...” She gave a little cough. “No more, Jones. We can’t do this again.”
He didn’t pull her back. He didn’t argue. He nodded and slowly turned away. “I’ll bed down outside.” Exactly where he belonged. He dug through his pack and pulled out the small bottle of whiskey he’d planned to celebrate with when he found the cave. Funny how quickly the best things in his life could go bad.
Chapter Fifteen
How did men do this? Lavonda wondered as she checked her always-smooth hair in the mirror. She was proposing to Jones tonight. After getting back from the unsuccessful trip, he had started packing and making arrangements for a room near the Angel Crossing outdoor arena where he would compete in its first annual Highland regional games, then go to Tucson to catch a flight to Scotland.
She’d jettisoned the idea of a green-card marriage when she’d been sure they were going to find the treasure. She knew he needed to keep searching, especially after she’d done an internet search and understood that finding Kincaid’s Cache would be amazing for not only Jones but the university, too. The cache had the aura of legend, just like the Lost Dutchman’s Mine or Montezuma’s Gold. That kind of search and discovery would capture spots on every morning program and the evening news. From there, Lavonda could use the interest to convince both universities that Jones was a professor they couldn’t live without. He could write his own ticket. For Gwen and the university, the interest could be leveraged with the alumni for more donations. The foundation
of her plan was finding the cache. To find it, Jones had to stay. Of course, even if he did, she’d still be going to Hong Kong as soon as she could...after getting the job.
Her nerves, jangling like she was on the back of a bronc, didn’t understand that the proposal wasn’t real. There was also the little fact that he’d say yes, because what other response was there? With the green-card marriage, he could stay, find the cache and become the biggest thing in archaeology since King Tut. It only made sense and it was just a legal arrangement. And how had that worked for Olympia and Spence? In sappy love with two kids. Shut up, she told that smarty-pants voice in her head. She had no expectations of happily ever after. She’d be in Hong Kong. She’d tell the immigration officials that the job had been unexpected and was a temporary posting. Or something like that. She was sure Spence was right that they took these kinds of marriages seriously. But as soon as Jones made the find, he could dissolve the marriage for nonconsummation. Because they had not been and would not be consummating any more. She’d probably forget she was even married, while she was eating Chinese food and solving big PR problems in Hong Kong. No big deal. It was her gift to Jones. So most people got...what, flowers at the end of an affair? She gave out a green-card marriage. It was all good.
Her pep talk done, she blew out a long breath and wiped her palms on her white eyelet sundress. She could do this. She’d faced down a room full of cameras and the bronc known as the Back Breaker.
“Jones,” she said as she neared the living room couch that faced the moderately large flat-screen TV. Only the very top of his red head was visible. He must be lying nearly flat. His head bounced a little and there was a loud yowl.
“Damned cat,” Jones said, and sneezed.
Great. Cat had just tried to literally kill him with affection. She shooed the animal out of the room, through the kitchen and outside. She wiped her hands down her skirt again as she checked for stray Cat hairs. She heard noises down the hall in the bathroom. Jones was dosing himself with allergy medicine. Follow him or wait? She strolled down the hall, as if proposing to a man was something she did every day.
Water ran in the sink and the medicine cabinet door slammed shut. She heard muttering.
“Jones?”
“Yes?”
She walked into the narrow bathroom, taking in his slightly puffy eyes. “Was Cat lying on your head?”
“What the hell was she doing in the house?”
“She snuck in. I put her outside.” He stood looking at her and Lavonda nearly lost her nerve...again. “I have something to ask you.”
He remained quiet. The fluorescent light buzzed and the bathroom, which had seemed adequately large before, shrank as she stared at Jones. The Arizona sun had brought out more freckles on his forearms and hands that were furred with golden-red hairs.
“Yes?” he asked again, his green eyes intent but with no warm interest.
“Jones, I know that your visa is being revoked. I will be leaving for Hong Kong soon. I spoke with Spence a while ago and I didn’t think we’d need to... There’s something I’d like to do for you.” She should have written out her talking points and practiced them. “Marry me, Jones.” His mouth literally fell open. If it hadn’t been so serious, she would have laughed. “You can get your green card, stay and keep looking for the cache. It will be in name only because I’ll be going to Hong Kong.” As soon as I get the offer, she added silently to herself.
He stared at her as if she’d grown three heads. His face paled just before red streaked across his high cheekbones.
“I can get Spence to draw up a prenup that he can keep private,” she added, hoping to sweeten the deal.
“Why would I want to marry you?”
That hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did. “I’m trying to help you.” You dumb idiot was implied. She plowed on. “Just because we ended...things, and you were less than honest doesn’t mean I don’t care for...about you. I mean. I care about a lot of people, and you’re one of them.”
“So solve a lie with a lie.”
“It won’t be a lie. We’ll be married.”
“Really. We’ll have a honeymoon. We’ll cohabitate?”
“It’ll be a legal marriage, which is why I’m getting Spence involved.”
“No.”
“Think about it,” Lavonda said, holding herself stiff. Why didn’t he understand how perfect a solution this was? “Let me explain it again.”
“I am a doctor of archaeology. I have an adequately firm grasp on what you’re saying. You are proposing a green-card marriage so I can stay in the United States. Although I’m a bit fuzzy on what you get out of this.”
“I just want to help and I can.”
“This is more than ‘helping.’”
“It’s what I’m good at. Fixing bad situations, repairing reputations. It’s what I did. What I will do...in Hong Kong.”
“Except no one has hired you to do this job.”
“Well, sort of. The university—”
“Has made it clear it wants nothing to do with this project or me.”
“Everyone from Gwen to the president of your Scottish university will fall all over themselves to give you a job and an office as soon as you find the cache and the find gets even just a little bit of press.”
“Dear Lord, woman, you know how I feel about the press. No. This will end even worse than the last time. Enough.” He stared at her, his green gaze frozen.
“But this way you can prove you were right.”
“Out.”
“Don’t say no to my proposal. Think about it overnight.”
“I will not say yes.” His posture softened a millimeter. “I—I’m saying no in the nicest way possible.” He pushed her out of the bathroom. She stared at the flat wooden door, registering that he’d turned on the shower. She wanted to go back in there to make him listen and understand she’d fixed everything for him. She was the fixer. That’s what she did. She’d fixed this for him. She’d saved Jessie’s program, and she could save Jones. He deserved saving. That was her job, her purpose. If she couldn’t do that, then what would she do? Even after getting downsized, she’d still been able to help. Time to regroup, she determined on the slow stroll to her quarters.
“Yee-owl,” Cat demanded. She hadn’t heard the animal drag her food bowl to where Lavonda now stood in the middle of the small seating area, just off the kitchenette. Cat growled her displeasure before using a paw to smack the ceramic bowl across the tile floor.
Lavonda felt tears gathering in her eyes. She was not crying because Jones had turned her down or because he’d be going back to Scotland. Or because she was leaving the ranch that had become home. Nope. It was the thought of leaving Cat.
First, though, she’d feed her. She absolutely would not break into the emergency stash of Hobnobs. Those needed to last the feline and Jones. Lavonda didn’t have time to buy more because she had plans to make and implement, and lives to change. That’s what she did so well for everyone. Except yourself.
* * *
JONES WAITED FOR the water in the shower to warm up, while refusing to replay the farce that had just occurred. His skin itched and his eyes burned in their sockets from Cat’s dander. Damned animal. He stepped into the shower he had not intended to take, except it seemed the only way to make Lavonda leave after her ridiculous proposal. He’d been insulted, demoralized and... He let the water pour over him. He needed to wash away that instant he had wanted to say yes to her.
The downward slide his life had taken since finding the dolls had hit bottom now. He had been proposed to by a woman who had made it clear that she didn’t love him and thought him incapable of solving his own problems.
He turned off the water and listened carefully. No noise. He wiped off the mirror and looked at himself. The swelling around his eyes had gone away. Goo
d. One problem on his long list solved.
He combed back his wet hair with his fingers. In less than a week, he’d be back to where he started, living in his brother’s shadow, with the infamy of his greatest humiliation. If only Kincaid’s Cache had been where the journal had pointed. Lavonda had had it right that such a discovery would have made his career. Maybe not in the same way as his brother and father, but it would have meant he’d have the choice of universities and access to funding. Getting married to get there, though, was just mad.
“Jones, my lad, why are you lying to yourself?” Because he so badly wanted to say yes to Lavonda and it had nothing to do with Kincaid’s Cache, his career or his brother. He wanted to stay in Arizona with her. She might even want the same thing. There had been something in her cartoon-princess eyes...except, if he said yes, she couldn’t go to Hong Kong no matter what she said. The US government wasn’t going to believe they had a real marriage if she immediately went haring off to China.
He had to leave the ranch now. Too many temptations. If he stuck around, he might give in. He’d done so many things out of character since he’d set foot in Arizona, he couldn’t trust himself to not give in to the ache in his heart he was sure would end if he admitted... He wasn’t admitting anything, because he was going back to Scotland to salvage what was left of his career and reputation. At least news of his search for Kincaid’s Cache hadn’t gotten out on the internet.
He listened at the door before going to his bedroom where he called to change his reservation. He couldn’t leave the US yet. He’d promised the Angel Crossing team he’d compete with them again. He couldn’t back out on that promise.
He left the ranch saying goodbye on a sticky note.
My answer is still no. You need to take the job in Hong Kong without entanglements from your old life. Good Luck. J