"My theory is that they used the rocks as part of their walls, mortared together with adobe."
"Weren't they farmers?" Silvey asked softly, her gaze drifting dreamily around the clearing. "My grandfather heard a little about it from his great-uncle, but even he couldn't remember much of what his ancestors had told him," she said regretfully. She wished she had paid more attention to the stories, knew some information that would impress Dan. She had made such an issue of protecting the Morenos' heritage, her heritage, yet she actually knew very little about them.
"Yes. They were farmers. They irrigated their crops by digging holding ponds for rainwater, which then dripped down to their fields." Dan strode around with swift, gliding movements, his gaze darting everywhere at once. Silvey could feel his excitement and interest. He fairly itched to begin excavating.
"I wonder why they left?"
Dan shrugged. "Any number of reasons. Drought, epidemics-either human or plant. Remember the Spaniards brought in diseases to which these people had no immunity. The tribe painted their skins brown with berry juice to ward off evil, which is why the Spaniards called them the Morenos."
"Too bad the berry juice couldn't ward off the Spaniards," Silvey murmured.
"They probably would have died out anyway, Silvey, because they were such a small group." Dan frowned at the ground. "The cause of this village's extinction might have been conflict with another tribe or village. They packed up what they could carry and went to greener pastures. There's actually a legend that says the village broke up because of greed and selfishness over their hunting grounds."
Silvey sat down on a lightening-struck pine that had been splintered ten feet up the trunk. Part of it angled to the ground, forming a seat where she could perch. "Do you believe the legend?"
Dan pulled a clean handkerchief from one of his pockets and began polishing his glasses. Without their transparent protection, his eyes looked exposed and thoughtful. "Maybe. I'd like to find out if there's anything here to indicate that it's true."
"And you could find out by digging here?"
"Yeah." His voice was thick with longing.
"There could be a lot left here, couldn't there?" Her smile was eager.
"There could be buried pots, cooking utensils, arrows and spearheads. All kinds of things. And maybe some of them might belong to an ancestor of mine."
"It's possible," Dan conceded, giving her a curious look.
Silvey drew her leg up and wrapped her arm around her knee.
Dreamily, she stared into space. "Just think, there might be something of my six times great-grandmother right here beneath my feet."
"That's possible, too." He glanced around, then sighed in frustration.
"I don't want to see this site annihilated."
"Annihilated?"
"Silvey, there are people who would bring in skip loaders and scoop up the ground, destroying any hope of a planned, complete excavation."
"Who would destroy it?"
His eyes rolled at her naiveté. "Silvey, they're called pot rustlers.
Anything of value from a tribe this obscure, such as a pot in mint condition, could bring as much as twenty thousand dollars from a collector."
Her mouth dropped open. "You're kidding."
"I'm serious," he insisted, urgency growing in his voice. "Because the Morenos were such a small tribe, anything connected with them has more value because of its rarity. For that kind of money, lots of people are willing to take the risk. With the military gone from here, it won't be long before someone tries it-and probably succeeds."
"That would be tragic. The story of these people would be lost forever."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you."
She gave him a disgruntled look. "Well, you also said I needed to see this for myself, and I have. Other people should know what's here-and yet, if tourists were allowed in here unsupervised, the site would soon be destroyed."
"And all this history would be lost forever."
He returned to her side and considered her. "You sound like you don't object to excavating the village."
"It's different than the burial site." One shoulder came up in a negligent shrug. "Besides, we both know my objections, or the objections of Leila's Warriors, aren't going to do very much to stop the excavation."
He gave her a serious look. "Probably not."
With a nod, she said, "I think you're right. I think people should know about the Morenos."
"You changed your mind pretty suddenly," Dan said, giving her a skeptical look.
"It's different being here ... seeing this. It would be wonderful if this could be preserved the way it is, but that's probably not going to happen, is it?"
A sympathetic smile touched his lips. "No, Silvey, it's not."
"Then it's better if a responsible group does the excavation."
"Do you mean to say I've convinced you?"
"Yes, I think so."
Silvey squeaked in surprise when he let out a whoop that startled birds from trees. He reached out to haul her off the tree stump and into his arms.
"Dan," she gasped. "What are you doing?"
"Celebrating," he said, swinging her around. "I think I've actually hooked you."
Silvey choked on a surprised laugh as he twirled her a couple of times and she collapsed into his arms. He gave her a hug and she laughed, startled by the change in him.
His look was full of warm delight as he gave her a quick kiss and set her away from him. "I'm starved," he said. "I'll go back and get the food you packed and we can eat under those trees, away from the site. We don't want to disturb anything." He turned and loped away.
Silvey steadied herself against the scarred trunk as a startling revelation burst over her.
He had hooked her all right. Dan Wisdom had hooked her into falling in love with him. Her eyes followed him as he hurried through the trees.
She loved him-everything about him, his black moods and his sunny ones; his quick mind and his unshakeable honesty.
She loved him, but she knew he would never love her. To him, love was power, or maybe he equated it with physical attraction. Either way, he wouldn't love her. He'd vowed to give no woman power over him.
Defeated and dismayed, Silvey slumped against the tree, her hands limp at her sides. What was she going to do? Her whole life she had planned to love someone as Leila had loved her husband, as her own parents loved each other. She'd never expected to love someone who wouldn't love her back-who was determined to stay uninvolved.
It took her a few minutes to collect herself, but slowly her resolve built. He mustn't know how she felt. He would either disdain her love, or turn away altogether. She couldn't accept either, so she must never tell him. She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to wipe away the distress. By the time Dan returned, she had dredged up a smile.
They spread their picnic under the trees, on a soft bed of pine needles that had probably lain undisturbed for decades. Silvey set out the packages of sandwiches and the neatly sliced vegetables.
Dan opened the sodas and handed her one, then settled back against the trunk of the nearest tree. Their companionable silence was broken only by the call of birds and the occasional raucous squabbling of the squirrels. Once, she thought she heard the sound of a car motor, but it was cut off suddenly, leaving them in peace.
Silvey ate slowly, keeping her thoughts to herself as she tried to come to terms with what she had just discovered about herself. She stole sidelong glances at Dan, noting the easy way his back rested against the tree, the methodical way he demolished more than half the sandwiches. When he was finished, he sat with one knee raised, and his forearm resting on it.
She loved to look at him when he was like this, relaxed and without his usual wariness. Why couldn't she have fallen for a guy who was a little easier to understand, to get close to?
"Have I got mustard on my chin?" he asked suddenly, turning his head to look at her.
"What? Oh, no." Dismayed
that she'd been caught staring, Silvey quickly gathered up the left-overs from their lunch, stuffed everything back into the hamper, and mumbled, "I'll take this back to the truck." She hurried down the hillside to where the truck stood, put the hamper in the back, then walked back to where Dan was still lazing under the tree.
All the while, she reminded herself to play it cool. If she wasn't careful, she was going to give her true feelings away.
She returned to the village site and began moving carefully around the clearing, her footfalls muffled by the padding of needles underneath. When she heard the sound of a branch snapping, she turned in that direction, thinking she might see a deer, but all was still. She moved back to the lightening-struck tree.
"What was unusual about the Morenos, Dan, that they kept themselves separate from the other local tribes?"
"They were metal workers for one thing. They had developed methods of smelting small amounts of copper that no one else knew. It's been said they wanted to keep the secret to themselves.
They made jewellery from it and traded with other people from as far away as the coast of Baja, California." He stood and ambled over to her.
Silvey leaned against the trunk. "Just think, there were whole systems of government, trade, cultural values in place all over this continent that were destroyed forever by the coming of Europeans."
"Exactly." Dan gave her a penetrating look, then glanced around.
Thoughtfully, Silvey stood and placed a foot on the tip of the pine, then brought her other one up behind. What Dan had said earlier was horrifying. There was a rich culture here to be explored and it would be a crime for thieves to get here first. If only it didn't include digging up graves. She sighed as she moved lightly up the trunk.
"You'd better be careful. You might fall."
She glanced down in amazement. "Dan, have you forgotten what I used to do for a living?" She turned, bent over backward until her hands were against the rough bark, and did a walkover, flipping her feet easily so they landed near her hands. If the trunk had been smoother, she could have done the splits. Coming upright on the narrow log, she lifted her hands and bowed to her audience of one.
Grinning, Dan shook his head and applauded.
Silvey ran down the trunk, Dan held up his hand in invitation and she took it to jump down beside him. A pebble flew up and wedged beneath the tongue of her boot. With a sound of disgust, she bent to dig it out. It was dark green and as she started to toss it away, she heard a dull metallic thunk.
Glancing down sharply, she examined it. "Dan, look! It's shaped like a bell. With a tiny clapper and everything."
Dan's breath hissed in. "Let me see." Reverently, he held out his hand and she dropped it into his palm. He turned it, examining it minutely while she all but danced with impatience at his side.
"Well? Well?" she prompted, crowding him, getting in his way, blocking his light.
He looked at her, excitement shining in his eyes. "It is Silvey, it's a copper bell. God, what a find."
"Really?" She fell to her knees and began feeling gingerly through the leaves and pine needles. "Maybe there's more."
"If there is, we shouldn't...."
"Wait." With a shriek of delight, Silvey loosened the dirt around a hard object, then pulled it free of the dirt. It was another tiny bell, but this one was attached to a whole string of them. "Dan, look. I think it's a necklace."
Dan came down beside her and took it from her hands into his own.
He stared at it in awe and Silvey gave a tiny laugh. "Dan, your hands are shaking."
He swallowed, closed his eyes, then opened them and looked at her.
"Silvey, this is the most significant thing you could have found-that anyone could have found. It gives a whole new dimension to the people here, gives them real personality and depth. Look at this." He held it out. "See how the bells are shaped?"
Silvey examined them. They were straight-sided rather than made in the traditional flared shape to which she was accustomed.
"The Morenos dedicated certain shapes for specific ceremonial objects."
"Oh?" Silvey looked up, her eyes shining. "And what was this for?"
"It's a bride's wedding necklace, passed from mother to daughter."
Silvey's face went blank. "You're kidding." "No. I've only seen one other, in a museum in New Mexico."
"Dan," she breathed reverently, taking the necklace into her own hands, "one of my ancestors might have worn this."
"It's possible."
In awe, her fingers trembling, Silvey lifted the necklace to her own throat. She gazed down at it. Encrusted with dirt, the green-tarnished bells lay against her yellow shirt. She didn't see the grime, though. Instead, they were perfect-brightly polished red-gold in color. She imagined generation after generation of Moreno women wearing this necklace, their numbers stretching back into time.
She might be a modern woman whose Moreno blood had been diluted by decades of intermarriage with other races, other cultures, but she felt a connection to these women of the past.
Her eyes were full of tears and her lips were trembling when she raised her head to meet Dan's eyes.
"I didn't know," she said, her voice cracking. "I honestly didn't know."
Dan reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers stayed to caress her cheek. "Know what?" he asked softly.
"How ...how it would feel to find something like this."
"It's a kick, isn't it?"
"Yes." She placed her hand over her pounding heart and, with an embarrassed laugh, blinked away the tears. At last, she drew in a shaky breath. "This is wonderful."
"It's priceless."
Gingerly, she dusted some of the dirt from it and started to slip it into the pocket of her shorts.
He caught her wrist and smiled in sympathy even as his eyes seared into hers. "You can't do that, Silvey. This isn't an official site. We have permission to be here, but not to dig here."
She gaped in disbelief, her brown eyes wide. "But what if someone comes along and ...?" She broke off, horrified.
"At last, the light dawns," Dan teased. "This is what I've been trying to tell you. Pot thieves have no right to it, but they could easily take it."
Silvey straightened her spine and her lips drew together. "We'll see about that." Turning, she stepped onto the trunk of the pine and lightly ran up to where the tree was split. As Dan watched, she dropped it into a small depression in the hollowed trunk thrusting from the ground and nodded smugly. "There. No one will find it now."
When she came down, he was watching with an admiring gaze.
Before she reached the last few feet, he lifted his arms, clasped her around the waist and set her on the ground before him. "You may be
a little too clever. I don't know that I can walk up there and retrieve it," he said, jerking his chin toward the stump.
She tossed her head, her golden-brown hair swishing against his hands across her back. She cast him an upward glance through her thick lashes. "Then you'll just have to bring me up here again."
Excitement steamed through her veins at the sudden heat in his eyes. His cleanly honed features, dappled by the shadow of a nearby aspen, were intense as he stared down at her. "You know, I'm going to have to do something about your tendency to flirt."
Her heart started to flutter like a wild bird caught against a window screen. "Oh? Like what?"
"Maybe I'll have to make sure you flirt only with me."
Smiling seductively, she placed her hands on his arms. "I think that can be arranged-but you have to catch me first." She shoved downward, freeing herself, and turned to dash away. Although his legs were longer, she was smaller, and fast, and she had the element of surprise on her side.
He didn't call out for her to come back or stop, but she could hear his boots pounding the ground behind her. She didn't dare look to see how close he was, but dashed wildly back the way they had come skirting the burial ground and heading for the truck. She planned to ge
t inside and lock the doors, teasing him. A few stones rolled beneath her feet, throwing her off balance, but she righted herself and kept running.
Her mad race was made even more exciting by a sudden wind that had kicked up, sighing through the pines and tossing the shivery silver leaves of the quaking aspens. She dashed through the wind, feeling it whip her hair and pull at her clothes. She looked back once to see Dan several yards behind. He was running as hard as she was, legs and arms pumping, his face set. Laughing, she put on another burst of speed.
Exhilarated, her legs stretched to their fullest length, but she could hear Dan gaining on her.
She broke from the woods and spied the truck. Convinced she could make it, she kept running. Within inches of the vehicle, she felt something brush her shoulder, then return to grasp it.
"Gotcha," Dan growled, spinning her around and falling with her against the door.
Gasping, her head dropped back. Her eyes were full of laughter.
Dan's were keen, his gaze touching on her flushed features and landing on her half open, panting lips. He leaned toward her, one hand on each side of her.
Silvey's eyes drifted shut, knowing he was going to kiss her, wild with anticipation and the memory of the last time he had done so.
Dan touched his lips to hers, softly and gently. They were both still winded from their sprint. His breath puffed out, mingling with hers, adding power to, his touch and taste.
"Silvey, I knew the minute I saw you that you would lead me a merry chase."
"I'm so glad I've lived up to your expectations."
Dan reached up and pushed tendrils of hair from her face. Silvey went still at his touch, her concern growing at the troubled look coming into his eyes. "Maybe my expectations of you have been too harsh."
Silvey reached up and touched his cheek. "What do you mean?"
He surprised her by turning his head and placing a kiss on her fingertips. "Never mind. We'd better get in the truck and..." He stepped back and looked down, frowning.
Disappointed that he didn't finish what he'd started to say, Silvey sighed and followed his gaze downward.
"What the...?" he muttered.
A Double Wedding Page 11