The Treasure of Como Bluff Page 3
She favored him with a gracious smile and gave in to a ridiculous urge to bat her eyes. It was a silly gesture, but after working alone for months, she suddenly found herself saddled with a very attractive, though possibly brain damaged, man. Silly felt fun. Besides, she deserved a respite from the heat, hard work, and frustration; and she was much less likely to be interested in another woman’s man if he were wearing a pink sunbonnet.
“Nonsense. I’ll wear this.” She picked up a wide-brimmed straw hat, plopped it on her head, and handed him the sunbonnet. “I’m sure you’ll look quite fetching.”
He took the bonnet and examined it with a look of disgust. “It’s too small.”
“I doubt it, and there’s only one way to find out. Do you want to come with me, or not?”
He muttered something under his breath and jerked the bonnet down on his head. “Ouch!”
“Watch those stitches,” Caroline reminded him.
He eased the brim lower to avoid his healing wound, turned his back on her, and marched toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said in a gruff voice.
The pink ruffle across the back of his neck was more than she could bear. She laughed out loud and followed him.
“Where’s the mule?” Nick asked.
“There’s no need to be surly. If you don’t like the hat, you can always stay here.”
He turned, and the sight of his hard, masculine features peeking out of the bonnet prompted another burst of laughter.
“I’m delighted to be such a source of amusement for you.”
Caroline wiped her eyes. “I’m delighted, too. I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun.”
He sighed. “Just get the mule.”
She saddled Jasper, added the saddlebags with her tools, and led him from the small shed that served as a barn to the front of the cabin. “After I attach the travois, let me mount first. Then you can try to climb on behind.”
He eyed the mule with skepticism. “Wouldn’t it be easier to take a wagon?”
If I were six feet tall and strong as an ox.
“I don’t have a wagon,” she explained. “It’s easier to load supplies and my specimens on the travois because it’s closer to the ground.”
He stepped forward and took the reins before she could resist. “If you insist on riding this mule, I’ll go first. That way, if he balks, at least you won’t be thrown.”
Nick’s concern for her safety surprised and touched her, especially considering her role in his current haberdashery. “The last thing you need is another bump on the head,” she replied. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two carrots. “Once I’m settled, give him these. They should occupy him long enough for you to climb on.”
Jasper’s addiction served them well, and soon they were headed toward the mountains with Caroline riding in front and Nick perched behind with a firm grip on her waist, his legs dangling loose, and the pink sunbonnet on his head.
By the time they arrived at the dig site, it was nearly noon, and the sun blazed overhead. Nick might look and feel foolish, but Caroline was glad she’d insisted he cover his head. She didn’t want him to have a heat stroke.
He slid off Jasper’s back then helped her down. “So where are these fossils?”
“Up on the ridge.” She pointed to the nearest rocky bluff. “Let me get Jasper settled then I’ll show you.” She tethered the mule to a large rock, emptied a canteen of water into a pail for him, and threw the saddlebags with her tools over one shoulder. “Can you carry these?” She lifted two full canteens.
****
She looked like a pack mule herself, laden with equipment. “Give me the saddlebags,” Nick said, reaching for them.
“They’re too heavy, and you’re injured.”
He ignored her protest and shouldered the bags of tools. “I don’t know how you lug these around. They must weigh as much as you do.”
“I’ve been handling them alone all summer. I’m stronger than you think.”
He bit back a smile. What she might lack in physical strength, she more than made up in determination. She was different from any woman he’d known. He was used to ladies swathed in yards of ruffles and lace and prone to fits of the vapors. If his mother, sisters, or Lucinda wanted something, they wheedled and cajoled, or manipulated people and situations to get their way. Caroline’s direct approach to challenges was refreshing.
“I’m sure you are, but since you’re not alone now, you might as well make the most of it.”
Despite the shade cast by the wide brim of her straw hat, she squinted as she regarded him. “All right, but you must promise to tell me if you start to feel dizzy or faint.”
“I’m fine.”
“Very well. Follow me; the path’s over here.”
Nick was happy to follow behind, where he could admire the movement of her hips beneath the split skirt that allowed her to ride Jasper astride and climb rocky bluffs. Lucinda would have died before appearing in public in such an unfashionable, if practical, garment.
He muttered a curse under his breath. Lucinda again. Why did his thoughts keep turning to her? She’d been more on his mind the past two days than the previous two months.
Caroline paused and turned. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
Her brows knit in concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to continue?”
“Will you stop worrying about me?” he snapped.
“No,” she replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
He halted. “No?”
“No, I will not stop worrying about you as long as you’re my responsibility. Here.” She handed him one of the canteens. “Drink.”
Nick took the canteen without thinking and unscrewed the lid. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“Nonsense. Now take a drink and follow me. We’re almost to the top.”
He obediently swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of the brackish water, and his stomach contracted. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and willed himself not to be sick. When the wave of nausea passed, he opened his eyes and spotted Caroline several yards ahead kneeling on the ground.
“I need my hammer and chisels,” she called without turning.
He strode forward sliding the saddlebags from his shoulder and knelt beside her. She smoothed her hand across the surface of an odd-looking ridge of rock. “I think this is the edge of a vertebra,” she said. “And here’s the next, and the next. Can you see?”
He tilted his head and regarded the formation. Some parts of the rock were a different shade of gray and smoother than others, but he couldn’t pick out anything definite.
Caroline opened one of the saddlebags and removed a chisel and wooden mallet. “Here, let me show you.” She set the chisel against the rock and began tapping, sending tiny chips flying.
At this rate, he figured she might have the bones out by Christmas, if anything was actually buried in the rock. “If I help you, this will go faster,” he offered, reaching for the saddlebags.
“Absolutely not. You have no idea how to properly excavate a fossil. You might destroy a valuable specimen. Paleontology is a patient profession.”
“What am I supposed to do while you hack away at that?”
“Watch and learn. May I remind you it was your idea to come with me? You could have stayed back at the cabin in the shade resting.”
“Isn’t there anything I can do to help?”
She sat back on her heels, removed her hat, and wiped her sleeve across her damp brow. “If you can’t sit still and stay out of the way, there’s a brush in that side of the pack,” she said, pointing. “You can use it to brush away the surface debris. I don’t think you can do any harm with that.”
Nick eyed the small, soft brush. He might not do any harm, but he wasn’t likely to do much good either. “How did you learn so much about dinosaurs and excavation?”
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “I’ve read everything I could find on the subject. The photos and
articles in the New York Herald were especially thrilling.”
“You came to Wyoming by yourself to break rocks in the hot sun because of some newspaper stories?”
“Of course not. Do you think I’m a half-wit? My brother was a member of Professor Marsh’s first expedition here nine years ago. I learned most of what I know from him.”
“So your brother approves of this venture?”
“Arthur? Hardly. He blusters and fusses and threatens to cut off my money. I don’t know what happened to his sense of adventure. He’s so stuffy now that he’s married and working in the bank.” She shoved her hat back on her head and returned to chipping.
Nick squatted beside her and brushed away the dirt and stone dust as she handled the mallet and chisel like a seasoned mason. Slowly an enormous vertebra emerged from the surrounding rock.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
Caroline smoothed her leather-gloved hand over the bone and grinned. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Can’t I do something more than sweep dust?”
She tipped her head and regarded him with mock seriousness. “I don’t know. In that bonnet you make a very convincing maid.” Then her dimple deepened. “Are you good with your hands?”
Was she teasing him? Damn the bonnet. He’d humored her long enough. He reached up and ripped the silly thing off.
“I’ve been told I am,” he drawled.
“Maybe I’ll let you try the serious tools tomorrow, if you’re still here.”
Where else would he be? He had no horse or equipment, and his original plan was losing some of its urgency.
“So what do we do once we get the whole bone out?” he asked.
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what had happened. Her contagious excitement had caught him in its snare. He wanted to stay and help her with the excavation. The silver could wait.
Chapter Five
Caroline struck the chisel with the mallet again, and bits of rock flew in all directions. “My usual procedure is to wrap the bones in burlap, pack them on the travois, and transport them back to the cabin. I cover some of the smaller ones with plaster of Paris for protection. When I have enough to fill a crate, I ship them to Connecticut by rail.”
“And then Marsh pays you for them?” Nick asked.
She nodded without looking up. “Our arrangement is one hundred twenty-five dollars a crate.”
He reached over and whisked the chips away with his brush. “I can see you know what you’re doing, but I’m surprised the professor agreed to hire a woman for a job like this.”
The next stroke of her mallet missed the chisel and grazed her thumb. He’d touched a sore spot, like poking a bruise. “He doesn’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve signed all my correspondence C. P. Hubbard.”
“So he would assume you’re a man.”
“I hoped so.” She raised her gaze to meet his. “You won’t tell him, will you?”
With Nick’s rugged good looks no longer hidden by the ridiculous hat, she suddenly questioned whether she’d insisted he wear it for his protection or her own. Then he smiled and yesterday’s tingle struck again without warning, sending a tiny shudder racing through her body. She quickly banged the mallet into the chisel to cover the involuntary movement.
If Nick noticed, he gave no sign. “Why would I tell Marsh? He’s getting his fossils, and it’s none of my business. Besides, I can see how important your work is to you.”
Did he, really? She studied his expression for hints of condescension but found none. His words were the first glimmer of professional support she’d received, and she wondered if she dared share her secret dream. He’d seemed supportive thus far, but the memory of Arthur’s sweeping dismissal of her ambitions still stung. She decided to take the chance. She gulped and blurted it out. “I hope to discover a new species and publish a paper in a scientific journal.”
He didn’t appear shocked. He merely nodded. “That’s an impressive goal.”
Tight muscles in her shoulders relaxed. Was it possible he understood? “There’s so little opportunity or recognition for female scientists.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but his words were drowned out by a deafening explosion. He snapped his head around in the direction of the blast. “What the hell was that?”
Caroline stuffed her tools in the saddlebags and ripped off her gloves in disgust. “That would be Harlow and Edwards.”
“Cope’s men?”
“Yes, and I’ve had just about enough of them and their dynamite. I’m going over there and give them a piece of my mind.”
Nick stood and helped her to her feet. “How close are they?”
“Far too close for my liking. They’re supposed to stick to the north end of the ridge, but they keep creeping southward like primordial ooze.”
He shouldered the saddlebags and took her elbow. “We’ll go together. Perhaps I can help persuade them to keep their distance from your site.”
“There’s no reason for you to get involved. This isn’t your problem,” Caroline protested as she hurried down the rocky hillside behind him. “You’re still recovering from a nasty bump on the head. Harlow might be a little weasel and Edwards a bit of a blowhard, but I’m sure I can handle them. You stay with Jasper.”
Nick halted and turned, and she stumbled to a stop to avoid plowing into his chest.
“I am not staying with the mule.” His tone forbade discussion.
He started down the hill again, and she rushed to keep up. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” she called out to his back. He didn’t reply.
Jasper had no interest in carrying a double load again and kept backing away, but a big drink and another carrot persuaded him to cooperate. After Caroline was settled on his back, Nick mounted behind her, and they set out.
Before they reached the railroad men’s blast site, two more explosions rocked the air. At the second, Jasper balked and brayed, nearly sending his riders into the dust. Caroline grabbed the saddle horn, and Nick clutched her waist so hard the soft flesh ground into her ribs. She sucked in a quick breath.
“Sorry,” he said, releasing his grip. “Maybe we should get down and walk the rest of the way before we end up with broken necks.”
She nodded. “We’re close now. They’ll be near the base of that cloud of dust.”
They slid off Jasper’s back and walked the remaining hundred yards to the tent and pile of boxes that marked her rivals’ camp. Fifty feet past the camp, two men squatted behind a sandstone outcropping. “Mr. Harlow! Mr. Edwards!” Caroline called out, waving her arms in the air. “Please, you must—”
Kaboom!
Another thunderous blast shook the ground, knocking her off balance. She swayed, and her flailing arms sent her hat sailing into the air. Nick reached for her a second too late, and she landed on her behind in the dirt.
Horseapples!
Was that snickering she heard, or were her ears still ringing? She glanced up at Nick and caught the tail end of a smile before he quashed it.
“That’s it!” She glared and thrust her hand toward him. “So help me, I’ll jerk a knot in their tails.”
His features contorted with the effort to control his laughter, but he lost the battle and let out a snort. She narrowed her eyes. “You’ll be next if you don’t watch your step. Bump or no bump. Now help me up.”
He obliged and pulled her to her feet before retrieving her hat. He was still chuckling. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, but you can be very...uh...colorful when you’re angry.”
Caroline yanked her arm from his grasp and rammed her hat on her head. “I’ll show you colorful.”
Nick’s expression sobered. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
She slapped the dust from her skirt and frowned in disgust. “Only my dignity, but I happen to value my dignity.”
“Want me to shoot them for you?” he offered.
“You don’t have a gun.”
“No, but you do.”
She did, and she was half-tempted to go back to Jasper and get it. “I don’t need your help. If I want anyone shot, I’ll do it myself.”
“Just trying to be of service.”
She’d had precious little sleep on the floor the night before, her eyes stung from the sun and dust, and she was half-deaf from the blasting. She was in no mood for teasing. “Then keep quiet and stay out of my way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She was tempted to knock the smirk off his handsome face. And she could do it, too. She’d been Arthur’s sparring partner the summer he was thirteen and decided to take up fisticuffs. What she lacked in size, she made up in speed. However, Nick was not the real adversary here, and punching him would only damage her dignity further. Instead she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to three. When she opened them, she’d refocused her anger on the proper culprits.
She marched toward the men. “You there, Harlow and Edwards, I demand you stop this blasting immediately!”
The men rose and turned. The big, burly one with the huge, drooping moustache removed his hat and flashed a grin featuring a gold front tooth. “Miss Hubbard, have you come to see how it’s done?”
Caroline rammed her hands on her hips. “Mr. Edwards, I insist you stop trying to excavate with dynamite. In addition to disturbing the peace of every living creature for miles, can’t you see you’re destroying hundreds of fossil specimens?”
He smiled again and instead of answering, pulled a fat, ugly cigar from his shirt pocket and struck a match on a rock. He continued to smile as he lit the stinking thing. The smoke drifted toward her on the breeze, and Caroline’s stomach lurched. She despised the smell of cigars. The sweet scent of pipe tobacco always brought back memories of her father’s study when she was young, but she’d never understood how anyone could tolerate cigars. Ugh.
“We’re still getting plenty of bones,” Edwards drawled. “The professor has no complaints.”
Her stomach rebelled at the foul odor, causing her to retreat a step or risk losing her breakfast. “You are not scientists,” she accused. “You’re just a couple of mercenaries.”