Heart Of Gold (14 page)

She
shrugged her windbreaker on and went over to the mess tent. “You're a
saint, you know that?”

“Might
as well make myself useful,” he grumbled. “No sense trying to
sleep.”

“Tough
night on the ground?” Carter helped herself to some coffee. As she poured,
steam rose up from the mug into the cool air.

“You
didn't hear that racket?”

She shook
her head, taking a test sip. It was good and strong.

“Some
ridiculous woodpecker was drilling for oil in the bedrock. Damn thing went on
forever until I threatened to have him taxidermied and mounted on a wall.”

“I
must be getting used to him by now.”

Ellie
appeared, and Buddy put three plates of pancaked on the table. “Eat up,
folks. It's not as fancy as what we had last night, but the company's bound to
be more palatable.”

“Dinner
was weird,” the girl said as they sat down. “No one's very happy in
that house. They didn't seem to like each other. Or us.”

Carter
and Buddy's eyes met across the table.

“We
don't have to go there again,” her father said.

“Whatever.”

They
finished the rest of the meal in silence. While they were cleaning up, Buddy
asked, “So what did Farrell want with you last night?”

Carter
shot for a breezy reply and hoped he bought it. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Well,something.
Sort of. Not really.”

She shook
her head, thinking she really should keep to one-word responses when it came to
Nick Farrell.

“He's
not pulling the plug on us, is he?”

“I
don't think so.” But anxiety pegged her in the chest.

She
hadn't considered the possibility he might kick them off the mountain. She'd
been too busy thinking about how things had gone from her slapping the man in
the face to . . . what had happened after that. All night long, she'd stared up
at the nylon roof over her head, trying to sort it all out. Nothing was much
clearer when the sun had finally come up, and now she had something else to
worry about. What if all the fighting between them endangered the dig?

“So
what did you talk about?” Buddy prompted, his eyes curious behind his
glasses. “The guy must have had something serious on his mind. He was
looking bound and determined when you two left.”

“It
was nothing important.” She looked over at Ellie. “You ready to get
to work?”

Carter
knew Buddy wasn't fooled, but she was grateful he let the subject drop as the
three headed over to the site. When they stepped inside the circle of stones,
she heard him let out a long whistle.

“I reread
Farnsworth's journal last night. For a sadist of the first order, he certainly
had an eye for accurate description. Man, if this isn't the place, I don't know
what is.”

“I
don't think we need to do test pits, do you?” Carter was referring to the
practice of random digging that was used to determine where artifacts might be
concentrated within a given area.

“Nah.
After reading through the primary source last night, I'd bet my firstborn this
is where it all happened.”

Ellie
shot him a stern look. “One of these days you're going to lose and I'm
going to end up someone else's daughter. Although now that I think about it.
..”

Buddy
gave the girl's ponytail an affectionate tug.

“Let's
fan out along the northern side and work our way south,” Carter suggested.
Within ten minutes, they'd retrieved tools and buckets and positioned
themselves at regular intervals in the grid, ready to work.

Getting
down on her haunches, Carter sifted through layers of pine needles until she
got to what passed for topsoil on the mountain. Taking her hand shovel, she
pushed it into the ground. The familiar scent of dirt rose up into her nose,
and she started ladling earth into the bucket she'd put beside her. As soon as
it was full, she would take it outside the circle and sift the contents through
the screen for fragments. She knew these regular interruptions in digging, when
she could stand up and stretch, would be appreciated as the day wore on.

They
worked steadily on their hands and knees as the sun rose higher in a clear sky,
breaking only for water and a quick lunch. Over the course of the day, Ellie
found a couple of arrowheads and Buddy dug up some old animal bones. As the
hours passed, Carter kept hoping Cort would show up, but he didn't.

Around
three in the afternoon, she made up an excuse about needing something from her
car and went down the mountain to find him. As she came out of the woods and
walked through the meadow, she heard noises in the garage and followed the
sounds of metallic clanking inside. Ivan was under Buddy's Ranger Rover, tools
fanned out around him. The man was groping in the general vicinity of a
screwdriver.

“You
need that Phillips head?” she asked.

The grunt
could have meant anything so she put the tool in his hand and stepped back. She
didn't expect a thank you and was surprised when the next snort sounded a
little like one.

“I'm
looking for Cort. You know where he is?”

After a
resounding clunk, Ivan slid himself out from under the car. Oil was all
over him, and his dark eyes were as sharp as one of the arrowheads Ellie had
found on the mountain.

“Boy's
probably down at the boathouse.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,”
he called out as she turned away. “If anything bothers you up there, you
let me know. I'll take care of it.”

Carter
was surprised at the offer. “That's nice of—”

“Been
told I have to look after you,” he said and then slid back under the car.

She
thanked the woodsman again and walked back into the sunshine, relieved to be
out of his way. The fact that taking care of them didn't seem to appeal to him
wasn't surprising. What interested her was that Nick had thought about
then-safety.

Then
again, maybe he just didn't want another party of people lost on his mountain.

Crossing
the lawn and heading to the lake, she gave the mansion a wide berth, hoping not
to run into any of its inhabitants. As she went past, it was hard to believe so
much conflict resided inside such a peaceful-looking place. The home seemed
like such a beautiful haven with its white siding gleaming in the sunshine, its
porches full of inviting wicker chairs, its window boxes overflowing with
flowers.

But then
Pandora's box had looked great from the outside, too.

Down at
the water's edge, she stepped off the grass and onto the wooden dock that ran
around the boathouse. As there were no immediate signs of Cort, she went
inside. There were two boats tied in the slips. One was an antique wooden craft
and next to it was a flashy ski boat. They were an incongruous pair, an opera
singer tethered next to a rock star.

Still,
Cort was nowhere to be found. She turned around to leave, resigned to checking
at the mansion, when she heard a whistle that froze her in her tracks.

“It
can't be,” she murmured. But she heard it again and winced as memories
came back to her. She saw her father as clearly as if he were standing before
her, and the remnants of childhood joy burned in her chest.

Trains.
Toy trains. They'd been a passion she'd shared with him.

As the
whistle drifted down again, she noticed a narrow set of stairs in the back
corner of the boathouse. When she reached the top of them, she saw that the
whole second floor was devoted to a model train set. A model train kingdom,
really. Stretching out on a raised platform that snaked through the room, the
setup was one of the biggest she'd ever seen, rivaling even the one she and her
father had put together so many years ago.

Cort was
at the controls and, through the haze of her memories, she focused on him.

“This
is quite an accomplishment.”

He looked
up in surprise and flushed. “What are you doing here?”

“I
came to find you.”

Cort fingered
the throttle, sending the red engine and its trail of boxcars cruising faster
along the tracks. The sound of tiny wheels clicking filled the room.

“I
was hoping you'd come up this morning. We've started digging.”

The train
went speeding through the different regions of its world. TheMining town, the
mail stop, a grain filling station.

“I'm
busy.” Cort was standing at stiff attention, which was at odds with his
floppy clothes. His shorts were riding low on his hips and he was wearing an
oversized University of Kentucky basketball jersey. She noticed his hair wasn't
as high or as spiky as it usually was.

In the
tense pause that followed, the train disappeared under a mountain range and
reappeared on the far side.

“Cort,
I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings.”

The boy
powered up the engine, making the clattering even louder. “It's cool.
Everything's fine.”

“It
doesn't feel fine to me.”

He stayed
silent.

“Cort—”

“I'm
totally cool.” He brought the train to a halt in front of him. “Will
you just go?”

“You
have to understand—”

He cut
her off in an angry rush.

“All
I know is that I liked you and I wanted to be with you and my uncle got in the
way.” He finally met her eyes. “And why him? Why did it have to be
him? God, I’m so tired of having everything be about him. He makes me stay up
here all summer, won't let me be with my friends, and then he takes you away,
too.”

“I
haven't gone anywhere.”

“Yeah,
well, you aren't going anywhere with me, are you?” There was a wealth of
bitterness in his voice.

“I'm
too old for you.”

“But
you're just the right age for him?”

Carter
took a deep breath. “I am not with your uncle.”

“But
you kissed him.”

“Cort,
I...” She shook her head in frustration. It was hard to find the right
words about something she wasn't too clear on herself.

“Doesn't
it bother you that he has a girlfriend?” His clear gray eyes, which were
so like Nick's, challenged her.

“This
isn't about your uncle. Someday, you'll understand—”

“Spare
me, okay? I get enough of that 'when you grow up' crap from him.”

“You
just have a crush on me. It's not—”

“How
do you know what I'm feeling!” Cort's hand slashed through the air with
frustration. “Everyone's always so busy telling me what I feel, what to
do, where to go. For once, why can't you people just accept me?”

Faced
with his agitation, Carter wasn't sure where the lines of helping and hurting
were.

“How
long have you known me?” she finally asked.

“A
week,” he grumbled.

“Try
five days, tops. Do you know what my favorite color is?”

“No,
but why is that—”

“What
about my religion?”

Frowning,
he shrugged.

“How
about where I come from, what my family's like, whether I like sushi or
Tex-Mex. Do you know whether I'm a neat freak or a slob?”

With a
defiant look, he said, “I know you're pretty and smart and have a good
sense of humor. I know I like being with you. What else is there?”

Carter
bit back a groan.

If only
all men were so simple and clear with their affections.

“I'm
flattered. I really am.” She cautiously walked over to him. “But I hate
to break this to you—I'm no saint. You haven't seen me when I'm cranky from
stress, when I swear at other drivers behind the wheel, when I cry at old
movies and Hallmark cards. You don't know me when I'm angry or depressed. I'd
like to tell you that believing I'm pretty and smart is enough but it's
not.”

“Don't
you like me?” The words were spoken softly and his face contracted as if
he was preparing himself for a hit.

“Of
course I do,” she said gently. “But not romantically.”

“But
you like my uncle like that.”

Carter
couldn't answer him. She didn't want to lie, couldn't confront the truth.

“I'd
like us to be friends,” she offered.

“Yeah,
sure.”

“I
mean it. I like spending time with you, too. And I'd like your help on the dig.
I need your help.”

“You
have those other two.”

“There's
a lot of area to cover.”

There was
a pause.

“You
really have started digging?” He looked up.

She
nodded.

“Found
anything?”

“Ellie
dug up some arrowheads.”

Cort
started to fiddle with the controls, making the train go forward and backward.

“Look,
we really could use an extra set of hands up there. Will you come join
us?”

He
shrugged. “Maybe. But I gotta work on my trains right now.”

“Well,
I hope we'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Carter
left with an ache in her chest. She remembered getting her heart broken for the
first time by a teacher she'd had a crush on. He'd let her down as gently as he
could, but the sting of the rejection had been a terrible blow. It had never
dawned on her that one day she'd be on the other side of that pain.

The
experience from this end wasn't much easier, she thought, as she walked out
onto the lawn.

She was
passing the mansion, her head low and filled with heavy thoughts, when Candace
appeared in front of her. The woman was wearing a short print dress that was
bright pink and green— a preppy getup that teetered on being a Rorschach test.
With a string of pearls and matching earrings, she looked like she belonged at
a country club sipping ice tea and playing bridge.

Well,
except for the expression on her face. That made Carter think of pro wrestling.

Candace
jabbed the air with her forefinger, “I don't know what kind of game you're
playing, but I won't let you come between me and Nick”

Carter
took a deep breath. “I don't know what you are talking about.”