Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1)

by Sutton Bishop

  Ari was speechless, totally undone by his teasing and adorable grin. She could barely muster a nod.

  He handed the almost-empty wrapper to Meg. “The rest is yours. We are going caving. Do you mind watching our belongings?”

  Meg smiled a knowing smile. “You two go ahead. I’m going to read my book while I put my feet in the water. This place is Eden. I want to remember it.”

  “Are you sure?” Ari asked.

  A book in one hand and sunscreen in the other, Meg gave Ari a brilliant smile. “I am.” She shooed them. “Go. Have fun. Maybe I’ll go after you return.”

  Luca stood and brushed his hands on his trunks, then strapped on his sandals. He handed Ari her damp sandals. “You will need these. I am ready.” A headlamp hung from his hand.

  Ari contemplated her half-eaten meal. She was torn by what seemed an order and complying with what might be her wish. I need to stop comparing him to Eric. She could eat more now or graze throughout the afternoon, which might be better in this heat. “Okay.” She shimmied back into her cutoffs, slipped her sandals on, and followed him across the bridge.

  A group of Mayan men greeted Luca and Ari outside the entrance of the Kam’ba caves. They shared that they were guides and that the only way Luca and Ari could enter the caves was to be accompanied by several of them.

  Two women waited closer to the mouth of the cave, war paint applied to their faces, courtesy of the guides. Each held an unlit candle. Ari waved off the war paint, as did Luca. She took a candle and attached her Cubs hat to one of the belt loops of her cutoffs via its snapback while waiting for instruction. The Maya briefly explained and demonstrated how best to navigate the mysterious abyss called the Kam’ba, lit only by candles and Luca’s headlamp.

  Luca translated the instructions to make sure Ari understood. “We need to be quiet and listen to them. The Kam’ba is full of stalactites and stalagmites. The guides will show us when to watch our heads and where to place our hands and feet. We will walk in rushing water and swim in pools and a cave tunnel. There are ropes in some of the areas. They are slick from the water and the elements. Keep your candle dry.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for making all of it clear. My Spanish is rusty. You’re Italian. How is it you’re fluent in Spanish?”

  “My mamma is Spanish, so I grew up speaking her native tongue also. And French.”

  “Nice. I had two years of Spanish in high school and a class in undergrad. I haven’t worked in any Spanish-speaking countries yet, so—” Omigod. I’m babbling again, like an overflowing brook.

  “Do you speak Italian? I have noticed you seem to understand me when I lapse.” He offered his hand.

  Her struggle to maintain her composure as his hand engulfed hers was successful only when she reminded herself that he was doing it for safety. “My papa is Italian. I don’t speak, but I understand a lot of it, the basic everyday conversation.” What it might feel like to have Luca’s hands gliding over her body flitted through Ari’s consciousness. She swayed, and his grip tightened, steadying her before she fell.

  “Careful there. As far as Spanish, you will have plenty of opportunity to improve it while you are here this summer. I expect that you will pick up some Q’eqchi’ since local Maya will be assisting us during our time in Petén.”

  Elation washed over Ari. In a few short days, she would be among the Mayan ruins.

  Pausing and turning to her before going deeper into the abyss behind one of the guides, Luca asked, “Ready?”

  She nodded vigorously and took the lit candle from a guide, staying close to Luca, driving the images of what might be in the cave—spiders, bats, and God knows what else—from her mind and took a deep breath, steeling herself. With a weak smile at Luca, she blurted out, “I’m ready. But one more thing. I only had one class in geology. I don’t remember the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. Do you?”

  “Yes. I learned an easy way. Stalactite has a C for hanging from the ceiling. Stalagmite has a G for rising from the ground.”

  “I can remember that,” Ari said, and suddenly she was seeing the first boulders and rock formations. They were beautiful. The air was dank and cooler but still comfortable. She took small, cautious steps on the slick, uneven floor, her sandals providing effective traction.

  Their shadows dissolved as they moved deeper into the cave. Ahead was impenetrable darkness. Like the two women who completed their small group, Ari and Luca quieted and concentrated. During the next hour and a half, they walked, crawled, waded, and swam through tunnels and various depths of rushing water and pools—without life jackets, by candlelight and headlamp.

  Halfway through, her candle extinguished, making the excursion more dangerous and tortuous. Luca kept his head down, often resting his cheek next to hers to share the beam from his headlight. Its light was far stronger than her candle had been, bathing a wider swath of the cave where he looked. Some sections resembled a forest of stalactites and stalagmites. In other areas, the ceilings and walls had been eroded by centuries of water, rounded smooth. It was surreal.

  While she appreciated his generosity, she found his nearness unsettling, the intimacy intoxicating. It took every ounce of discipline for her to concentrate on her careful movements. Gingerly they felt where to put their feet and hands on the craggy and slippery footholds of rocks as they held on to the wet rope above them and climbed the steep, narrow duct-taped ladders, with nippy water splashing over them. He followed her slowly over the unforgiving narrow ledges. One mistake could prove disaster.

  Something large and black brushed Ari as it flew by. She started and slipped.

  Moving like lightning, Luca pushed her up against the rough wall. “I have you.” He held her there until she stopped shaking. “Ready to walk again?”

  She nodded, squeaking in answer, “Yes.”

  “Take your time.” He relaxed his hold on the belt loop of her shorts after the ledge descended into shallow water.

  Light up ahead revealed the tour was nearing its end. Relief surged through Ari. She had made it through in one piece. Now she could put some space between herself and Luca. Her body and mind couldn’t take much more. He was a total turn-on, and she was losing her composure bit by bit. Eric had never had this effect on her. No man had.

  The sunshine was blinding after being in the dark abyss. She was soaking wet. Rivulets of water ran from her hair and cutoffs, over her body, serving to keep her cool as the heat and humidity assailed her. Absorbed by the mesmerizing view surrounding her, Ari didn’t notice that there was not a path back to the pools.

  The guides approached them. Luca listened and then turned to translate for Ari, looking deeply into her eyes. “We are to jump. It is the only way down.”

  “Are you kidding me? There isn’t a path?” Panic began to sink in. “Jump? It’s so far down. Is it deep enough?” She began to head back to the cave opening, but Luca’s hand stayed her.

  He spoke to the guides, who shook their heads. “No path.” Luca placed his hands on her shoulders. “You cannot go back the way we came. They do not take tourists out the other way. It is unsafe. It is against the water’s flow.”

  Laughter flew past her as one of the women on their tour careened off the cliff, yelling as she flew. Ari was drawn forward by the splashing below and the woman shouting upward, encouraging her friend to follow her in. The other woman jumped, shouting all the way down until the water swallowed her voice. Ari looked over the ledge; they treaded water, huge smiles on their faces. They waved at her, motioning for her to jump. They looked safe and happy.

  “Go ahead. I will jump after you.”

  She backed away from the ledge. “No.”

  “Fine. I will jump first, and you can follow me.”

  She began pacing. “I can do this. I’ve jumped into quarries before. It’s just been a while.”

  “It’s a longer jump than a quarry, Ari.”

  “No shit.”

  His eyebrows rose, and a displeased look flicker
ed across his face. “I am looking out for you.” Quietly he added, “You did great in there.”

  Her eyes were downcast in an effort to quell her quaking. “I was terrified at times, especially when that bird or bat flew by me.”

  “I believe it was a bird.” He reached out to steady her. “You are swaying again.”

  The sensation of his stubbled cheek next to hers and his hand guiding her along, sometimes holding her, still lingered. The unwarranted pull she felt toward Luca was unsettling. She fought the suffocating desire that made it near impossible for her to breathe and couldn’t look up because without her sunglasses she felt fully exposed, like he would be able to see everything she was feeling and thinking. After Eric, she was just too vulnerable.

  She jerked away, wary. “Please, don’t,” she pleaded, her brown eyes flashing as she avoided eye contact.

  He threw his hands up in the air. His expression looked injured. “I am trying to help.”

  “Just don’t,” she said before inhaling deeply and jumping. Ari screamed all the way down, hitting the water sooner than she expected. She popped up and treaded water, her success thrilling, wanting to do it again. Ari used her sidestroke to move toward the shore where the women from their tour stood. She felt as much as heard the loud splash behind her. She picked up her pace.

  “I enjoyed that. Very much,” he said as he caught up with her, matching her stroke for stroke.

  Ari put her head in the water and swam harder, seeking emotional and physical distance.

  He pulled up next to her, exiting the water at the same time. “Why the change in attitude? I believed we were making progress.”

  “I’m here to work on the excavation. Nothing more. You’re a good-looking guy, and you find me interesting.” Rising, she developed a sudden interest in the tiny fish swimming about her feet. She stepped out of the water and onto the limestone, facing him. “It would be stupid of me to say there isn’t attraction between us. I get it. Summer fling.”

  Luca shook his head at that and scoffed, smirking.

  “I’m serious.” She continued, “I want to keep our relationship purely professional. The project head requested a forensic anthropologist with archaeological experience and a depth of knowledge about Mayan culture. I was selected because of my expertise. I am going to focus on the excavation and help where my knowledge is needed.”

  Challenged, Luca kept a straight face, gazing deeply into her eyes. Before turning and walking away, he said, “Sometimes relationships are messy, not quite what you presume. I will see you in Flores.”

  What the hell does that mean? Ari waited to begin walking back until she could no longer see Luca. When she got to where Meg lay on her towel—hat over her face, snoring, oblivious—his stuff was gone. Ari shook her gently. “Meg.”

  No response.

  She shook her more roughly, her voice louder. “Meg! You’re turning red. Where’s your sunscreen?”

  Meg pointed to her bag, grumbling. “Oh, man… Thanks. That was quick. I need to slather some more on.” Pulling sunscreen from her pack, she asked, “How were the caves with Luca?”

  A furrow appeared between Ari’s eyebrows. “Terrifying. And amazing.” She held out her hand so that Meg could give her some sunscreen. Rubbing the lotion onto her exposed nose and ears, she added, “You should check them out.” She pulled the brim of her Cubs hat low. Her response to Luca after the tour had caught her off guard. She cast her eyes around. He was nowhere to be seen.

  In the beginning, there was nothing except the sky, and it was empty. Q'uq'umatz and Tepew—the great creators and makers—hovered above the primordial waters, surrounded by light and covered in blue and green feathers.

  After much discussion, they decided to create light and lit the dawn so that it would awaken the day. Next they decided there should be something else. “Earth,” they commanded. And it rose as the waters divided, complete with hills and valleys and plants and trees.

  Then they created big and small animals to live in the trees and forest, including venomous snakes as guardians of the vines. Q'uq'umatz and Tepew asked that the animals sing their praises for creating them, but all they could do was squawk, chatter, roar, and howl.

  Displeased, Q'uq'umatz and Tepew set about creating a creature that would be respectful and sing their praises—humans.

  To the animals they said, “Hear us. This is your fate. From here on out, your flesh will be consumed and eaten.”

  —Tata

  Mayan Shaman

  Petén, Guatemala

  Light from the early-evening sun bathed Ari’s room, mellowing the vibrant hue of the sunflower-yellow walls. The view of Lake Petén Itzá was beautiful. This nice, spacious clean room, with this lovely view, was hers for the duration of the summer project, when she was in Flores during periodic breaks. There was even a pool big enough to swim laps and a restaurant with an intimate bar. She imagined the team would spend a few evenings there discussing the work on-site—discoveries, assumptions, and theories. The small quaint hotel was fully rented out for the team, their little hub away from their homes and work. For the first time since leaving the States, palpable excitement—about what she was undertaking, exploring Mayan ruins and what she might discover—flowed through her unchecked. She was eager to start, feeling like she did as a child on Christmas morning.

  She pulled her journal from her duffel and sat down at the scarred wooden desk across from her bed, writing page after page of notes about her impressions and experiences of riding the chicken bus and her time in Cobán, Lanquín, and Semuc Champey. Luca’s green eyes permeated her thoughts, causing her heart to race and heat to flush her body. Her pen stilled.

  Slouching in her chair, she fiddled with the hummingbird pendant resting between her collarbones. She took a deep breath, willing her heartbeat and body temperature to return to normal. Ari listed all the team members she had met so far, noted their disciplines, their nationalities, and where they taught. She added Luca last, then counted the names, coming up one short. After double-checking, she realized why—she was missing the person who assisted the entire interdisciplinary project. Oh hell, what is their name? When will I pay more attention?

  She flipped to the next blank page and wrote Luca’s name again. She crossed it out and then sat up, pushing the journal in front of her and dropping her pen onto the page. Ari leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, the knuckles of both hands supporting her jaw. She closed her eyes, reflecting on the conversations from yesterday and dinner in Cobán.

  She and Luca had shared little personal information, yet there was a familiarity about him. Was it because he was Italian, like her father? She sighed deeply and placed her fingertips on her forehead. No. That wasn’t it. Luca intrigued her, the way no man ever had. Something churned in her chest, and a growing ache gnawed between her legs. What scared the shit out of her was what niggled somewhere else. My head is so fucked-up that I believe I might be feeling something. Ari laughed out loud, shaking her head in disbelief. No way. She knew people could fall for each other fast, like her parents had. They were engaged within weeks of meeting and married within months. They were still happily married.

  She picked up her pen again, mulling over how to describe him. She wrote: virile. In retrospect, Eric was certainly not nearly as virile. Not even close. He had been masculine, but it stopped there. Luca oozed sex. And, omigod, those eyes. She was totally sucked in. Her parents had always said that eyes were the windows to the soul. Ari was still in grade school when her mom explained what the saying meant, encouraging her to always look someone in the eye, then she would know what they felt, what their intentions were. “Trust what their eyes are telling you, Ari. And trust your gut.” Why hadn’t she remembered her mom’s wise words with Eric? The truth had always been there. She just hadn’t wanted to see it.

  Under virile, Ari added strength. She felt safe with him—he had taken care of her when she slipped in the Semuc Champey and in the Kam’ba, yet she was fighting a
visceral attraction to him. Just the thought of him sent her body into crazy mode, as if there were thousands of little electrical pulses going off. Her breath became shallow, and her heart started racing. It took all Ari’s focus to bring her raging synapses under a modicum of control. Getting upset with him short-circuited her responses. She nodded. Yep, there was that, for a while anyway.

  Hell, Luca emanated male strength—physically and emotionally, and just when he could go all macho man, he deflected it with humor or sensitivity. She added those to her Luca list as well. She had witnessed those traits, as well as patience, protectiveness, and nurturing. For not knowing him long or well, she knew a lot. Add it to his gorgeousness, and it was no wonder she was drawn to him, like a hummingbird to sweet nectar. I don’t want to get involved with him. I don’t want the complications a relationship with him could bring. She took a long-drawn breath and flipped a thick curl around a finger.

  She thought about Meg—whom she liked a lot. Her gut told her she had met someone who would be a longtime good friend. Being an associate professor was lonely, in spite of loving teaching and research. Ari was by far the youngest in her department, twenty-eight, some twenty years younger than Eric, who was the closest to her age. She was typically treated as such—like regularly being assigned to bring paper products for department pitch-ins because her colleagues assumed she couldn’t cook. She couldn’t, but that was beside the point. If asked, she would have made a gallant effort, probably succeeding beyond what her coworkers expected. After all, great cooking resulted from following the directions. How difficult could that be? She was never given the chance, although she did bring a festive plate of cocoa-dusted peppermint cookies to the department holiday party. Baking was where she excelled. The men scarfed the cookies up. The women? Nope. They just looked down their academic noses. She never put forth the effort again.