Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart

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Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart Page 3

by Shanna Hatfield


  She hated to leave him in the dark tunnel without a speck of light. It would terrify her to wake up somewhere strange in complete blackness. Hannah searched the assorted pockets of her cargo shorts and came up with a mini flashlight she kept for emergencies.

  After clicking it on to make sure it worked, she tucked it into the man’s hand. She wanted to study his broad, square fingers but forced herself to gather her flashlight and gun and be on her way.

  One thing was for certain about the guy on the cave floor — he was the most masculine man she’d ever encountered. Everything about him exuded strength and rugged power.

  If she hadn’t loathed him for scaring her spitless, she might have taken an interest in him. Fear must have addled her normally stalwart common sense, because that was the only reason she could think of for giving the man a second look. With that unkempt hair and beard, he could be a homeless person for all she knew.

  But she still couldn’t help but question how he’d gotten to the cave and why he was there.

  She jogged back to the Jeep and hurried to the bunkhouse. Jen waved to her as she parked beside the other vehicles. Sam carried a bag of potato chips to the picnic table they used for most of their evening meals while Erik manned a portable grill he’d set up at the end of the bunkhouse porch.

  “We were just about to come looking for you,” Jen said as Hannah grabbed her pack and walked over to the table.

  “I ought to slug you,” she said, glaring at Sam. “That was not cool, not at all.”

  Sam appeared as bewildered as Jen at her statement, and he held up his hands in a sign of innocence. “Whatever you think I did, I didn’t. I’ve been here with Erik and Jen the whole time.”

  “Are you going to tell me you didn’t convince some crazy dude to dress up like a caveman and scare me half to death?”

  “What?” Jen and Sam both asked in unison.

  “What happened?” Erik asked as he set a plate of burgers on the table.

  “I went for a walk after you all left and found a cave.” Hannah plopped down on the bench and unzipped her pack. “It has the most spectacular petroglyphs I’ve ever seen. And I found something else, too.” She pulled on gloves then removed the cloth-wrapped lion’s paw from her bag. The other three stared at it in astonishment. “I’d just discovered this when a man appeared behind me out of nowhere. He was yelling in a language I’ve never heard. It didn’t sound like gibberish, exactly, just unfamiliar. And before you ask, I know French, Spanish, and German. It wasn’t any of those.”

  “So what happened?” Jen asked, taking a seat beside her and leaning closer to study the lion’s paw Hannah still held.

  “He kept coming closer to me and had this weird look on his face. It scared me, especially when I told him to back off and he wouldn’t.” Hannah glanced over at Sam, who appeared just as concerned as the other two. “I tasered him, and when that didn’t knock him down, I used the stun gun on him.”

  Erik’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  “No. I ran to the Jeep then realized I’d dropped my phone, so I had to go back and get it. He was still out cold but breathing steadily. I left a flashlight for him because it is pitch black in the tunnel where the petroglyphs are located. I hated to leave him there, but I was so sure Sam had done it as a joke.”

  “Not me,” Sam said. He gave her a rascally grin. “Although that would have been a good one.”

  “What did this guy look like?” Jen asked, finally shifting her gaze from the paw to Hannah.

  Hannah gently laid down the paw and cloth then removed a glove and took out her phone, showing her coworkers the man who’d taken her by surprise.

  “What is he wearing?” Jen turned the phone, trying to get a better look at his clothes.

  “A loincloth of sorts. I think he had on shoes, but I couldn’t say that for sure.” Hannah looked at her friend. “And he carried a hunting spear.”

  “Grab a burger. Let’s go find this guy,” Erik said, turning off the grill then slapping two beef patties, pickles, and cheese between a soft bun.

  “Sit down and eat like a civilized human.” Jen glared at Erik over her shoulder. “Hannah can show us after dinner. The sun won’t set for hours, and we can take some lights with us when we go.”

  “What if this guy wakes up and destroys the petroglyphs?” Sam asked, hurriedly assembling his hamburger. “I’m with Erik. Let’s go see what we can find.”

  “And you promise you had nothing to do with him scaring Hannah?” Jen turned to Sam.

  He crossed his heart and held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. It was not me.”

  “Before you ask, I had nothing to do with it,” Erik said. He pointed to the paw on the table. “Take that inside, wash up, and then we’ll go.”

  Hannah nodded. “Can someone put a burger together for me? I’ll eat it on the way there.” She wrapped the paw again, carried it inside, and spent a few moments in the bathroom gathering her composure. She splashed her face with cool water, combed her hair into a neat ponytail since several tendrils had escaped, and steeled her resolve to face whatever waited in the cave.

  With the others accompanying her, it wouldn’t be so scary. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

  Chapter Two

  “He was just here,” Hannah said, looking around, wondering where the cavedweller could have gone. From the moment she left until they’d returned had barely been forty minutes. Had the man disappeared into thin air?

  “Where?” Erik asked, looking around the tunnel.

  “He was lying on the floor right here.” Hannah bent down, seeing the faint outline of what might have been a footprint in the dust. “There! That’s a footprint.”

  Sam squatted down to look and shook his head. “That’s my footprint. See?” He stood and placed his foot next to the print, making an identical indentation in the dust.

  “Are you sure you didn’t have heat stroke or something?” Eric questioned, offering Hannah a concerned glance.

  “I’m not making it up!” Hannah glowered at Sam and Eric as the four of them stood in the tunnel.

  “These drawings are spectacular,” Jen said, clearly more interested in the petroglyphs than Hannah’s lost caveman. “The detail is amazing.”

  “Is that a mammoth?” Sam asked, shining his flashlight on a large, tusked beast.

  “I think so, and look at this one,” Jen said, pointing to a bison then a smaller animal. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a camel.”

  With her three coworkers glued to the petroglyphs, Hannah looked around the tunnel, searching for anything that would prove she hadn’t imagined the man’s presence. Where did they think she got the photographs of him? Surely, those would prove he was real.

  She took a step, and something rolled across the stone floor. Hannah turned her flashlight onto an object that glistened in the light. She picked up a small white shell. Just like the shells that had been sewn onto the man’s garment.

  “Ha! See! He was here,” she said, holding up the shell like a trophy.

  Jen, Sam, and Erik all examined the shell.

  “It’s not that we don’t believe you, Hannah, but where is he?” Jen asked, glancing around, as though the man in question might suddenly appear.

  “If I knew, would I be trying to prove to the three of you that I haven’t lost my mind?”

  Jen gave her a pat on the shoulder then turned back to the petroglyphs. An hour later, the four of them stepped outside and drew in a collective gasp of wonder at the sight of the sun beginning to set over the distant hills. Golden rays illuminated the varied hues of the landscape, making the minerals in the soil shimmer with brilliant colors.

  “Wow. Just wow!” Sam said, pulling out his phone and snapping photos. They all took several before they made their way down to the path that would take them back to their vehicles. Sam and Erik had ridden together while the two women had driven over in Hannah’s Jeep.

  They were almost bac
k to the rigs when Hannah stopped and looked at Jen. “Would you mind riding back with the guys? I want to hang out here a few moments.”

  “No problem, Hannah. Just don’t stay out too late.” Jen gave her an encouraging smile. “Be careful. If that guy is still wandering around, he might be dangerous.”

  “Maybe it would be better if you came back with us,” Erik said, ever the responsible father-figure to the rest of them. He was nearing retirement and had been working in the field longer than the rest of them had been alive.

  Jen was almost thirty with a husband who was often gone on business. Sam was fresh out of college, full of ideals and enthusiasm. Hannah was twenty-six with experience under her belt and a desire to make a difference in the world through her work.

  “I promise I’ll be careful,” she said, smiling at the others as she took a step back in the direction they’d just come. “My taser gun is loaded and ready to fire. If anything happens, I’ll call you right away.”

  “I don’t like it, but I’ve already learned you are one stubborn young lady.” Erik nodded at her then headed off toward his pickup with Sam following close behind.

  “Be careful,” Jen warned again then hurried after the men.

  Hannah watched them leave then sighed. Unless that annoying guy had magically disappeared or grown wings and flown away, he had to be around somewhere. There was no way she was leaving until she found him.

  Determination fueled her steps as she once again made her way back to the cave.

  Chapter Three

  Thor awakened in stages.

  At first, he was aware of the cool air surrounding him. It had been hot when he walked around the lake earlier. He moved his left hand, feeling smooth stone beneath it. Was he lying on stone? Was he in a cave?

  A sudden flash of memory assailed him. He recalled wandering into a cave and finding a strange woman there. Was she still there? What had she done to him?

  His eyes popped open, but he was surrounded by darkness. The dark was so pervading, he couldn’t even see his fingers in front of his face.

  Years of training had taught him not to panic, so he didn’t. Remaining perfectly still, he listened. No sounds reached his ears. Nothing. He was entirely alone.

  Cautious, he sat up and swallowed hard at the pain racing through his head. Had he hit it when he’d fallen? And what spell had that witch cast over him? She must be a powerful sorceress to have rendered him useless with such little effort.

  He clenched his right hand, expecting to feel the smooth wood of his spear only to discover something foreign against his palm. His fingers worked over the object, and suddenly light sprang from it, flooding the darkness with a bright, white beam.

  “Powerful magic,” he said, fearful to keep something that belonged to the witch but more concerned about being left in the consuming blackness.

  Thor took a deep breath and let his nose dissect the smells. Dust. Musty dankness from the depths of the cave. And a hint of something that made him think of flowers. The woman had smelled of flowers like that, although he didn’t recognize the scent.

  With the light in his hand, he studied his surroundings. His gaze flicked over the drawings above him. He forced himself to stand and swayed, slightly lightheaded, before he braced a hand against the cool rock of the cave’s wall.

  The dizziness receded, and he turned his attention to the drawings. They looked exactly like drawings he’d made on cave walls in the past, right down to the vine along the bottom intertwined with blossoms. He etched that as a tribute to Beena, since it had been her favorite flower, and as a way of distinguishing his work from others. But he knew he hadn’t drawn these images. In fact, he’d been thinking about drawing them when he’d stumbled upon the woman singing in her odd language.

  When she’d spoken to him, he had no idea what she said, although he could tell she was upset. She’d been frightened when she’d pointed a mystical weapon at him that seized onto his arm. He felt as though he’d been stung with hundreds of poisonous bites.

  He shone the light on his arm where two barbs poked out of it. The barbs were made of a substance foreign to him, and he bit his lip to keep from shouting when he pulled them from his skin.

  “If I find that witch again, I will not be so easily subdued,” he said, tossing the barbs to the ground. He returned his attention to studying the drawings and noticed a rock shelf beneath them. He held his hand down so light penetrated the crevice, but it was empty. What had the witch been after? Is that why she’d left him for dead? Had she found a treasure and needed to escape with it?

  Questions swirled through his thoughts with such fury, Thor felt dizzy again. He leaned against the wall and tipped his head back, letting the cool stone draw the worried heat from his body.

  Eventually, his head cleared, and he decided to leave the cave before the witch returned. An even more chilling thought lent strength to his tired body. What if she’d made her way to their camp and cast a spell over his clan?

  Terrified of what she might do to his people, he hurried down the tunnel of the cave, retracing his steps around a curve in the wall. Voices echoed around him, and a splinter of light reached through the darkness.

  Thor refused to be caught off guard a second time. With the magical light in his hand, he searched the tunnel and found a crack in the wall that created a small space just large enough for him to slip behind and hide. He fumbled with the tool in his hand to extinguish the light but managed before the voices grew louder.

  There were four of them. He listened to four sets of steps. Heard four voices. Smelled four distinct scents. One was the witch, of that he was certain.

  Thor strained to listen. Although the words sounded foreign to his ears, he somehow understood what they said.

  Two men were speaking in what he would have considered a teasing tone about a cavedweller. He had no idea what that meant but held his breath as they walked past his hiding spot. He dared not spy on them or follow them, lest he be caught. What sort of torture might they set upon him?

  For what seemed like hours, he hid in the small opening in the wall, waiting. His legs ached, his back seized with spasms of pain from his cramped position, his feet felt numb, but he held still.

  Finally, light bounced off the tunnel walls, and the voices carried to him again as they approached. One of the men was talking about more lights and bringing up tools while a woman spoke about ancient shells and a man being lost.

  If the lost man in question referred to him, he’d remain lost, at least until he could get the witch alone.

  He waited several moments after the cave had fallen silent once again before he moved from the crack in the wall. Warily, he made his way to the entrance and looked out. In the distance, he could see two men and two women walking toward two strange-appearing beasts.

  With disbelief, he watched as two of the men and one of the women climbed inside a shiny beast and left.

  The witch stayed behind then turned and started back toward the cave. Thor clenched his hand and realized he still had her magic light in his hand, not his spear. Unwilling to be trapped in the cave with her a second time, he looked around and barely restrained a loud gasp. The landscape looked so barren and ugly. So utterly foreign.

  There was no lake. No lush plants. No trees. And no clan.

  What had the witch done with his people?

  Thor scrambled down the hill. With a mighty roar, he raced to where his home had stood just a few hours ago. There was nothing left beyond the rotten remnants of the corner posts, a few stones, and a bit of woven mat.

  Tilia. Where was his sister? And Lusk? And the girls?

  Thor glanced over his shoulder, convinced the witch was watching him.

  His feet stumbled over unfamiliar roots and plants as he hurried to what should have been the edge of the lake. Instead, there was nothing but dry grass, dirt, and hideous pale green bushes that held a pungent aroma. Hardly a tree existed, and those that did fought their way out of the craggy surfaces
of rock, appearing scraggly and twisted.

  Was this what the witch and her cohorts had wrought? Decimated the land and destroyed his people?

  Had she even taken his daughter?

  A scent on the breeze and the sound of a twig snapping confirmed his suspicion the witch was near. He spun around and glared as she stood several yards away, looking fearful but curious.

  “What have you done?” he shouted in his native tongue, raising a fist in the air.

  “I can’t understand you,” she said in an irritatingly calm voice. The woman took unhurried steps toward him, holding her hands in front of her in a manner Thor recognized as a sign that meant she did not intend to inflict any harm.

  Since she’d bewitched him earlier, he had no plans to trust her. He would pretend he did, though, at least long enough to discover what sorcery she’d used to alter his entire world.

  Obviously, another of her spells bestowed the ability to understand and speak her language without his consent. He hadn’t understood what she said when he’d first seen her, but now he did. Whatever had knocked him into a sleep must have also planted her language in his mind.

  The words felt unfamiliar in his throat and ears as he forced himself to speak to her. “What have you done with my people and home?” he asked, slowly forming the words.

  Surprise widened her eyes, making them look like glowing green orbs in the fading light of the sun. The witch was as comely as any woman he’d ever seen, even dressed in such an odd manner. From the cloth on her back to the coverings on her feet, he’d never seen such material or invisible means of holding the pieces together. All the clothes his clan made were sewn with thin strips of sinew using needles made of bone.

  “I’ve done nothing with your people or your home,” she said in a soft, soothing tone. “Why are you here? Where did you come from?”

  He scoffed and took a step closer to her, wishing he’d gone back and retrieved his spear before confronting her. Even if he had no intention of running it through her, it gave him a sense of power and confidence to hold it in his hand. Instead, he held one of her magic lights.

 

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