Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart

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Capturing the Cavedweller's Heart Page 15

by Shanna Hatfield


  She reached for the flashlight, fumbling to find it in the inky blackness. When her fingers connected with it, she smacked it against her palm, and it turned back on. Desperate, she looked around her.

  No Thor.

  He truly was gone.

  A deep, primal wail sliced through the air as she slumped to the floor, unaware the unearthly sound ripped from her throat.

  Chapter Twelve

  Refusing to accept the truth, Hannah jumped to her feet and ran down the tunnel, calling Thor’s name. She stopped at the hiding spot he’d shown her earlier, making sure he wasn’t there. Maybe he’d played a prank on her and waited outside.

  She raced out the cave’s opening and saw no one except her coworkers in the distance at the dig.

  Hannah’s legs lost the ability to hold her upright, and she dropped into the dirt at the mouth of the cave. She took out her phone, but the dozens of photos she’d taken of Thor were gone. Not a single one remained.

  Desperate, she called her sister.

  “Hey, Hannah,” her sister said in a cheerful tone. “What’s up? Are you still planning to come this weekend?”

  “Jill, do you remember Thor?” she asked, willing her sister to say yes.

  “Thor? You mean the movie?” Jill laughed. “It’s kind of hard to forget that guy. I think the way I drool while watching those Marvel movies is the sole reason Jason doesn’t like them.”

  “Not that Thor, my Thor. We were just there on Saturday.”

  Jill cleared her throat. “Honey, have you been out in the sun too long? Do you need me to come get you? You were here on Saturday by yourself. Don’t you remember? You helped me make raspberry jam, and then you went with Jason and the guys to move the cattle into the pasture by the pond. No one was with you, especially not someone named Thor.”

  Hannah wanted to scream, but she didn’t. A sigh rolled up from her soul, one that knew all along she was loving Thor on borrowed time. “Is there a drawing of Rachel, done in pencil, framed and hanging on the wall by the bathroom downstairs?” Jill had proudly hung the drawing Thor had made of the baby where everyone could see it.

  “No, but there is a photograph you took a month or so ago that I put in a frame and hung there.” Jill paused a moment. “Are you certain you don’t need me to come get you? I think you might be suffering from heat exhaustion.”

  “No. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”

  On a mission to prove to herself Thor wasn’t truly gone, she called the lab. “Jeremy, this is Hannah Clayton. Do you happen to have the file with the lion’s paw I brought in?”

  The sound of riffling papers carried over the phone connection. “I haven’t seen anything about a lion’s paw, Hannah. Sorry.”

  “Do you remember a man named Thor who came in with me a few times?”

  Jeremy laughed. “Now that’s a good one. You never come in with anyone except Mr. Hurley, and we all know that’s under duress.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy.”

  Hannah disconnected the call, wrapped her arms around her middle, and tried to keep from flying apart as her heart shattered in a million pieces. She had no idea if minutes or hours had passed when she finally mustered the strength to stand.

  A thought drew her back into the cave to the petroglyphs. She shone her light on the drawings and smiled. Thor had drawn them, of that she had no doubt, but they were more detailed than they’d been before, far more colorful. And there, at the edge of one, was him holding a chubby-cheeked girl who looked loved and happy.

  Her fingers traced over his image as tears flowed down her cheeks.

  She reached for the ledge below the drawing and felt the rock wobble. As she’d done the first time she’d moved the heavy rock to reveal the hidden contents inside, she wiggled the rock back and forth until the weight strained her arms. She set the rock aside with a thud, dropped to her knees, and held the flashlight in one hand while pulling a crackling leather bundle from inside.

  Not taking time to look at it, she stuffed it in her pack, brushed her fingers across the drawing of Thor one last time, and left the cave.

  Feeling more alone and desolate than she’d ever been in her life, she made her way back to the dig as the others prepared to leave.

  “Hey, where have you been? We were just about to come looking for you,” Jen said, giving her a concerned glance. “Are you okay?”

  “You don’t look so good,” Sam said, frowning at her.

  “Have you seen Thor?”

  “Thor? Who’s Thor?” Jen pressed a hand to Hannah’s forehead. “Did you get too hot out there? Are you dreaming about hunky action figures?”

  Frustrated, Hannah pushed away Jen’s hand. No one remembered him. It was as though he never existed. She knew when she went back to the bunkhouse his things would be gone from there, too.

  “You didn’t get snake bit or something, did you?” Erik asked, taking a step closer to her. “Do we need to rush you to the hospital?”

  “No, I’m fine. Nothing bit me. I just lost track of time.” Hannah choked on the last word. Time had suddenly become her enemy. It had given her Thor then yanked him away just when he’d finally told her he loved her.

  “Want me to drive your Jeep back?” Jen asked as they walked toward their vehicles.

  “No. I think I’ll stay here a little while. You all go back without me.” Hannah tried to work up a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I promise I’m fine. Really.”

  Erik and Jen didn’t seem to believe her, but they all left. When the dust from their tires had settled, Hannah sat in a folding chair beneath the pop-up tent they’d erected for a slice of shade in the merciless summer heat.

  With trembling fingers, she removed the leather-wrapped bundle from her pack and set it on the table before her. She took a deep breath then another before she willed her hands to still and carefully unwound the leather. From the look of it, she thought the hide might be from a horse. Thor probably smiled as he wrapped it around the treasure she held, knowing she would lecture him about horses being for riding not eating.

  She set aside the leather and studied the lion’s paw in her hand. It appeared to be the same one she’d found the day Thor had come to her. Slowly, she untied the bit of sinew holding the pouch closed and slid out the contents.

  The first thing to capture her eye was Thor’s agate knife. The bright orange rock, sharpened to a deadly point, looked as if he’d just placed it there that day instead of twelve thousand years ago.

  There were the rattles she’d given him after he’d killed the rattlesnake.

  She recognized a woven armband like the one he’d said his first wife had made for him, but this one was different, smaller, with beautiful shells and feathers that appeared iridescent in the sunlight. Had he made it for her, or had someone else created it? The intricate weaving looked far too complicated for his big hands to maneuver.

  A flower, pressed between waxy leaves and wrapped between pieces of leather to preserve it, had lost its color and scent, but she could almost imagine what it might have smelled like. Thor had often told her she reminded him of a flower. Was this the one?

  Finally, she folded back several layers of thick leather that felt almost greasy to reveal a square, hard object. She had no idea how Thor had managed it, but he’d burned a drawing of them onto a piece of thin, pale leather then mounted it to a frame he’d made by drilling holes through the ends of wood strips and lashing them together with sinew. The layers he’d wrapped around it had preserved the image, and somehow the leather had stayed supple and soft.

  She gasped when she picked up a small piece of leather to see a note burned into it in Thor’s distinctive scrawl.

  Until the end of time, I love you

  Hannah dropped her head onto her arm and dissolved into tears. She cried until there were no tears left.

  Emotionally and mentally drained, she tucked the gifts from Thor back into the pouch, wrapped it in the leather, and slid it into her pack. She didn’t care wha
t she ought to do with it; no one was going to touch those things but her. She refused to consider them going to a lab or being put on display. Not when they were the only thing she had left of the man she loved.

  She made it to her Jeep and slid onto the seat, fighting the absolute weariness that made her want to curl up in a ball and weep until death claimed her.

  Instead, she drove away from the dig, away from her dreams, away from her hope for the future. A future with Thor. She turned onto the highway and headed toward the bunkhouse, but she’d only gone a hundred feet when she heard a loud pop and the Jeep jerked to the right.

  She pulled over to the side of the road as thunder shook the earth and lightning cracked across the sky. Big drops of rain began to fall and plop into the dirt on the edge of the road with such force, it sent up puffs of dust.

  Hannah wanted to scream, to hit something, but instead she got out of the Jeep and walked around it to stare at her blown tire. She didn’t remember hitting anything, but in her distracted state, she could have driven over a bear and not noticed.

  Rain began to pour down in sheets, so she scurried around the Jeep and slid back behind the wheel. Teardrops mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she tried to calm herself enough to decide if she could change the tire in the deluge or should wait out the storm.

  She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the top of the steering wheel with her forehead pressed against them. Thor would have jumped into the rain and made a game of figuring out how to change the tire. Without him there, she didn’t care if she spent all night sitting on the side of the road.

  A tap on the glass of her driver’s side window made her jerk upright and swallow down a yelp of surprise. A cowboy hat shaded the man’s face as he motioned for her to roll down the window.

  Hannah switched on the ignition and pushed the button that moved the window down a crack.

  “Are you okay, miss?” the man asked.

  “Just a blown tire, but thanks for stopping.” Hannah started to roll the window up, but the rain stopped as abruptly as it began. She looked up as sunshine drenched the sky.

  “It won’t take long to fix that tire if you have a spare,” the man said. Something about the cadence of his voice made her give him a second glance. She still couldn’t see his features due to the shadows cast by the brim of his hat.

  Rather than brush him off or question if he was a serial killer who stalked stranded women, she got out of the Jeep and walked around to the back. She opened the rear door and lifted the mat that covered the spare tire.

  “I really appreciate the help,” she said, turning to him as he lifted the tire out and leaned it against the back bumper. Music playing on his pickup radio reached her ears. The song was the one she’d heard Thor singing in the shower the first time she’d taken him to the ranch. Even when he had no idea what the words all meant, he’d enthusiastically sang the chorus.

  The man tipped his hat back and smiled at her.

  Hannah sucked in a startled gasp. It was Thor… and yet it wasn’t. This man was ruggedly handsome with a cleft in his chin, a square jaw, and a short, straight nose. His lips, especially the full bottom one, resembled Thor’s.

  But it was his eyes that reminded her most of Thor. His beautiful sapphire eyes and the kindness glistening in them were just like Thor’s. She had no idea who this man was, or where he came from, but somehow, someway, he was related to her cavedweller.

  “I reckon I should introduce myself,” the cowboy said, holding out his hand. “I’m Scott. Scott Thorson. I’ve got a ranch about five miles from here.” He grinned, that same boyish grin of Thor’s that she found so hard to resist. “Are you one of the crew working on the archaeological dig just up the road? If so, I’m surprised I haven’t run into you before. I know I wouldn’t forget meeting you.”

  Hannah nodded, finding it hard to speak when her heart was lodged in her throat. Thorson? Son of Thor?

  Could it be?

  Scott smiled at her, not just with his mouth, but with eyes full of interest and warmth, and suddenly she knew.

  Thor wasn’t lost to her after all, and neither was a future filled with love.

  Recipe

  One of Captain Cavedweller’s favorite desserts is this quick and easy fruit cobbler. It’s great with any type of fruit. From peaches to plump berries, it comes together in a snap and is so good with a scoop of ice cream or a dollop of fresh whipped cream on top.

  Jiffy Fruit Cobbler

  1/4 cup butter

  1 cup sugar

  1 cup flour

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  2/3 cup milk

  4 cups fruit, sweetened

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

  Melt butter in a 9x13 baking dish in the oven.

  Mix sugar, flour, baking powder, and milk until blended. Spoon over melted butter, but do not stir.

  Spoon fruit on top. Again, do not stir.

  Bake for approximately 40 minutes or until golden brown.

  Serve warm and refrigerate leftovers (if there are any!).

  Author’s Note

  The first time I met my husband, affectionately known as Captain Cavedweller, I knew he was the one I was going to love for a lifetime.

  Was it love at first sight?

  Possibly… probably.

  When I opened my door to greet him as he picked me up for a blind date, I looked into his warm blue eyes. In that moment, my life was forever changed.

  Twenty-five years ago, we exchanged wedding vows on a snowy December day. In ways, it seems like just yesterday that we were two crazy kids in love, full of hopes and dreams. We’re no longer kids, but we’re still crazy in love and still have hopes and dreams to fulfill.

  As I thought about an anniversary gift for my beloved Captain Cavedweller, I couldn’t think of one more appropriate than this book, a tribute to the man who has loved me so long and so well — who makes me laugh every single day and fills my heart with so much joy. Through the years, he’s taught me about sacrifices and forgiveness, he’s been my champion and best friend, and he still makes my heart flutter with his smile.

  Throughout this story, I’ve sprinkled little tidbits that speak of my husband. He likes salad, but only without dressing. His favorite books are penned by Pat McManus. He loves The Blues Brothers and all the Marvel movies, but Thor is his favorite.

  I’ve long teased CC that he is a throwback to Neanderthals. It’s evident in his prominent brow ridge and wide hands, but also in the caveman-inspired grunts he has turned into an entire vocabulary I have not yet completely deciphered. Hence the reason he was dubbed Captain Cavedweller. (Well, that and the fact he could happily exist in a man cave for months on end with no other humans around, although he has promised to allow me visitation privileges.)

  You might wonder why I chose the setting of Central Oregon for this story, and the reason is fairly simple. The John Day Fossil Beds and surrounding areas are an amazing source of prehistoric history.

  The shoes I mentioned Thor wearing in the story are inspired by shoes that date to 9,300 years ago discovered in an Oregon cave. Thor’s knife is inspired by an agate stone tool found in Oregon that is said to be more than 15,000 years old. You can find more details about prehistoric Oregon on my Pinterest board.

  It was fascinating to research the animals and plants that would have been in the area 12,000 years ago. I truly had such fun picturing what life would look like to a cavedweller back then.

  Even more fun was imagining how one would react if they suddenly found themselves in today’s modern world.

  I’ll probably get myself in trouble telling this little tidbit, but the scene where Hannah shoots Thor with a taser is inspired by something that happened to CC. We were in our first year of marriage, living less than a mile away from a prison, and CC worked nights doing security. Of course, I was nervous about being home alone at night in an unfamiliar neighborhood so close to a prison, so CC (being the gallant, caring husband that he is) bought m
e a stun gun. With one touch of a button, it delivered what seemed to be a zillion jolts of electricity along with an impressive snapping sound and arc of sparks.

  Since I kept the stun gun in the headboard within easy reach at night, CC thought it was great fun to sneak into the room and whip out the stun gun. He’d scare me half to death, illuminating the dark bedroom with the sparks and a noise that sounded like a bug zapper on steroids. I would scream and jump about a foot in the air before lambasting him for the prank while he laughed. One night, he’d planned to scare me with it but somehow managed to get his finger in the way and stunned himself. After I made sure he was alive and breathing, I may have laughed myself silly. That was the last time I saw him touch the stun gun. At any rate, it provided the basis for Hannah terrorizing Thor with her taser gun.

  I should definitely mention my fabulous cover artist. Rob Foote, who illustrated my children’s book Steve the Mule as well as the Friendly Beasts of Faraday series, was such fun to work with I knew he was the one to contact to bring this cover to life.

  I sent him a bunch of crazy ideas along with our wedding photo.

  He turned this into the great art you see on the cover!

  Thank you, Rob, for all your help. And thank you to my editors and beta readers, including Shauna, Leo, Heather, and Katrina. I so appreciate you!

  I hope you enjoyed this sweet time-travel romance and learning a little about why I wrote it.

  Despite his teasing and joking, Captain Cavedweller continues to fill my world with love and romance, even after all these years.

  Happy Anniversary, CC. Love you always and forever!

  Books by Shanna Hatfield

  FICTION

  HISTORICAL

  Baker City Brides

  Tad’s Treasure

  Crumpets and Cowpies

  Thimbles and Thistles

  Corsets and Cuffs

  Bobbins and Boots

 

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