A Rare Breed (15 page)

"It doesn't have to be a masterpiece, just accurate in terms of contents within the space. This, along with the photographs and reports, will go into the surface survey."

Brit took the pad and began drawing loosely, with a long forgotten, easy skill. In a matter of minutes, she had reconstructed the room, complete with all artifacts, debris, and broken pieces of pottery.

"Hey, you're good at this. I should use you as a sidekick more often. My sketches leave a lot to the imagination."

"I'd love to work with you, Jake." Brit knew that he was teasing. But she was serious. Working with Jake would be the most wonderful job in the world.

For the next few hours, she assisted him in taking notes on all the recently discovered artifacts, ceramics, non-ceramics, fragments, and the general site condition. They listed and detailed everything they found at the cliff dwelling, which they named Casa Patio, meaning patio house. They even named flora, fauna, dried food particles, and live animals or lizards.

Later, they took a break and sat outside cm the stone patio ledge. Brit was curious about everything. "Tell me about the people who lived here, Jake. Who were they? What did they do here?"

"These were hunter-gatherers, not farmers. There obviously wasn't much good land for farming, so they had to forage for what they could. They also became basket makers. I suppose that they moved out when food sources became scarce."

"Where did they go?"

"Probably developed into some of the Pueblo tribes. Amazingly,
there is still a group of Indi
ans who live on the other side of the canyon floor."

"Really? Where?"

"The Havasupai have a reservation in Havasu Canyon that can only be reached by foot or horseback. Or, of course, by helicopter."

"I can't imagine living down here all the time."

"They've been here since the twelfth century. Imagine that."

She shook her head. "I can't. It seems so remote, you would think no one was here. And yet, a civilization has been here longer than America has been settled."

"The fact that so much still remains of their civilization, real material that we can study, is what fascinates me and keeps me interested," Jake said. "It isn't a dead science. We're still discovering new information every year."

Brit was impressed with Jake's knowledge and enthusiasm for his subject. He was like no other man she'd ever known. Intelligent, introspective, and dedicated to his work.

"You know so much about these Indians, Jake. I would love for you to be a part of Bonnie's movie. Would you do it for me? When we get out of here, would you go to Hollywood with me? I want to make sure everything they do is accurate. And authentic."

He looked at her strangely and shook his head. "That's an something I could never do."

"I ... I could try to get you a job as a consultant."

"No, no. I mean that I have no desire to be a part of . . . entertainment." His dark eyes grew intense. "Don't you understand, Brit? Education and uncovering knowledge is what I'm all about. Not . . . fun and games."

She stared at him. He was serious. Too serious. Unrelenting. How could she persuade him? His eyes said, "Never." And she feared his heart did, too. This was a Jake she didn't know at all.

Chapter Seven

When work for the day was finished, Jake took Brit to the most perfect place. They relaxed on a flat sandstone, eating tuna sandwiches and soaking up the late afternoon sun like two smooth lizards. A faint spray from a small nearby waterfall reached them occasionally when the wind kicked up, and it felt refreshing and cool.

"Up there." Jake lay back on the warm rock and pointed at a corner of the blue dome above them. "See where the treetops edge the sky? That's the north rim of the canyon."

Brit gazed at him lazily, admiring the way his tee shirt stretched across the breadth of his chest when he moved. They were a matched pair, sort of, she mused. They were both stripped down to their T's in the heat of the afternoon. His fit snugly, framing his muscular torso in white. But on her, the large shirt hid her body and hung down to her thighs like a large tunic.

Although she would rather evaluate Jake's attributes, Brit tore her eyes from him and squinted in the direction he pointed. "Is that the way out?"

"The northern route."

Brit didn't respond for a while. Their exit seemed a thousand miles away and, she hoped, eons in time. It was unusual for her that she felt so contented down here in such a rugged environment. She did not even mind wearing Jake's sloppy clothes, whereas at home she wouldn't be caught dead in something like this.

"All we need is wine and bread." He passed her a water canteen.

She took the plastic container and her fingers laced with his and lingered. They felt warm and erotic, reminding her of his intimate touch last night. "I have thou. What more could I need? Just us, alone in the whole world, Jake. It's almost perfect here. Beautiful. So completely quiet. Like a little Shangri-la tucked inside the Grand Canyon, if you pretend."

He chuckled. "You certainly have an active imagination, woman."

"Thank you," she murmured smugly.

"I like the quietness here." He laced his hands beneath his head and studied the sky. "It's hard to find this kind of silent peace in our lives today. There's always something, the hum of some motor or distant sonic boom or, worse yet, a blaring radio. I thrive on this quiet. It gives me time to think." He paused, "To sort things out."

"What do you think about when you're alone down here?" She finished her sandwich and lay back, pillowing her head on his chest.

"Nothing monumental, really. Being here just calms me down, slows me down, and helps me put my life in perspective."

"And what is that? What makes you tick, Jake? Professor Landry." She giggled at the thought of Jake, so regular in basic jeans and a tee shirt, back at the university and attired in a three-piece pin-striped suit with a pair of bifocals propped halfway down his nose.

He thought seriously about her question and was slow to answer. "I guess I'm work-driven; some say I'm a workaholic. Almost everything I do is related to learning or teaching. It's my whole life, I'm afraid." He slid one arm across her upper chest, and his fingers gently stroked her shoulder. "No kids. No wife. At least, not anymore."

"Well, that's a relief. Not the kids part, but about the wife. You've been married?"

"Oh, yes. Married almost four years. Been divorced three."

Brit waited, wanting to ask more details of the failed marriage but not sure how to do it with-out sounding as if she were probing.

"What about you?" he asked before she could form another question. "Were you ever married?"

"Me? Oh, no. I, uh, Michael and I have been together almost a year. We discussed the possibility of marriage a couple of times, especially lately. I think the movie contract had something to do with it, though."

"Why should it?"

"Oh, because my financial status changed. I went from being a secretary, dependent upon my job and living paycheck to paycheck, to being able to do basically what I want. That's a big difference."

"So you quit your job?"

"Yep. As soon as I had the first money in my hot little hands. Of course, it doesn't mean I'm set for life, but I can take my time before deciding what to do next. I'm sure Michael found my financial security appealing. He even talked about quitting his own job and helping me manage my career." She turned her face toward Jake's. "None of that would matter if I ... if I really loved him. And if I felt that he really loved me. I wouldn't care if he took over everything."

"Do you? Love him?"

She shook her head against Jake's ribs. "It just never was right between us. We look at everything differently. And I'm very disturbed by his compulsive gambling. I used to think it was
just an occasional thing. But he plans every vacation or time off so that he can gamble." She paused, then finished strongly. "No, I don't love Michael."

"You're lucky you found out now, before you took the next step. I . . . wasn't so wise." Jake stroked her neck and face with gentle fingers. Brit could barely concentrate o
n their conversa
tion as his fingers worked some kind of magic on her skin. Although she wanted to strip his clothes from his body and make wild love right here on this rock, she restrained herself. She also wanted to know more about this man who turned her on and captured her wild imagination, but would have nothing to do with her life back in California.

"What do you do in your time off, Jake?"

He gestured with his free arm. "What I'm doing right now is a good example of my lifestyle. This is my vacation from teaching."

"But you're working down here." She bent one leg and propped it on the opposite knee, tapping her foot in the air. "We just spent hours documenting that cave ruin. That's work."

"To you, maybe. Not to me. I enjoy every aspect. But the project isn't finished. Nowhere near. We have to
assimilate the material and in
clude necessary documentation. Then, it has to be collated and printed in a document."

"This is your vacation tune? That's crazy."

"Maybe. But what better place to be? Or to work? It's like a travel agent who goes to Bora Bora to see if it's worth recommending. All part of the job." He laughed and her head bounced on his taut stomach. "I don't even know how to play golf. Furthermore, I don't care to learn."

"Don't you ever fish or play baseball or do some sport in your spare time?" She couldn't imagine anyone being so work-driven. In her experience, almost all of the men and many of the women in management levels of the business world played golf. It was a necessary skill for making good business contacts and, ultimately, for climbing that all important corporate ladder.

"Those pastimes don't really interest me." Jake considered her question for a minute. "I hike. Down here, I hike a lot. But usually, even the hiking's related to something else I'm doing." He sighed contentedly. "I guess I enjoy being a loner."

"Is that why you're here at the Grand Canyon? So you can be completely alone to work?"

"No, not at all. This just happens to be where the project is. Cole Washburn, a colleague at NAU, and I've been interested in these undocumented ruins for a long time. So we wrote a grant to get funding for a study. He and I had planned to make this trip together, but at the last minute, his wife became very ill and he couldn't leave her. That's why I have more equipment than one person needs."

"I'm sorry about Cole's wife, but his stuff sure came in handy for us."

"When I get back to Flagstaff, Cole will help me organize the information and write the reports. It's still a joint project." Jake's entire body vibrated and seemed to grow animated as he talked about his venture. "You see, Brit, the whole story of the canyon isn't yet told. There were people here, people like us, and we don't know much about them."

"And we should?"

"Oh, yes. Their reasons for being here, their methods of living, and the reasons they left are all unanswered mysteries. I want to help solve some of those dark holes in the history of man. And the exciting thing is that here, in the canyon and other parts of the southwest, we have proof of their existence and clues about their lives. In other areas, those clues have been buried by housing projects and swimming pools or cemented over for freeways and parking lots, destroyed by man and development. Here, they remain. It's up to us to fit the puzzle pieces together and learn about their lives. I want to be a part of that discovery."

"You make it sound very important."

"It is. But not just to me. Historians, anthropologists, and other archeologists are waiting for this information, so they can do further studies. Someday the links will form the complete story of man on Earth."

"You're amazing, Jake. Always thinking . . . and always thinking about your work." She reached up to caress his cheek. "I could tell we had interrupted something important when we arrived."

"Oh, mostly my peace was interrupted. What a bunch of characters to drop out of the sky."

"We were a pretty unconventional bunch, weren't we?" She laughed, remembering the chaos.

"Hell, the first thing I had to do was to break up a fight between the two men. I was really ticked about that. I expected to find broken bodies everywhere at the crash site. Instead, they were fighting over some petty thing."

Brit stroked his hand. "It was peculiar. Once we found out that everyone was safe, everything fell apart and anger took over. I was glad you appeared to break it up. I don't know what I would have done alone. Let them fight it out, I guess."

"Well, it was obvious to me that the group was reacting in some sort of shock to the crash." Jake stroked her face with the hand she had been kissing. "No one wanted to be here and I suppose you considered yourselves stuck, which you were. Then you couldn't seem to adjust to the rigorous camping lifestyle. I think that's one reason Frank decided to take out on his own.

I know it's a hard lifestyle, especially when you aren't used to it."

"Do you think Frank is okay?"