The Lies Uncovered Trilogy (Books 4, 5, and 6 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (41 page)

Marc knew Kit was kidding, but he also suspected there was some truth to what she said, like she was testing to see his reaction. But right now he had only one thing on his mind, and sitting alone in a hot springs pool wasn't likely to fix it. Deciding to test the limits of whatever there was between them, he took her hand and closed his fingers around it, and said, as they started across the meadow to see the view, "Is holding hands allowed?"

Kit glanced down at their clasped hands, and replied, "I guess it falls within the parameters of what we have going, even though technically, hands are below necks since they're at the ends of arms, which come out of shoulders, which are also below necks."

Marc looked at Kit in amusement. "What about playing footsie?" he asked, mainly to hear what she would come up with. She was full of surprises, which had him coming back for more.

"Footsie's fine, but only if you're wearing jeans," Kit said.

"Okay, I'll bite. Why only jeans?"

"It's simple," Kit said. "Khakis are loose around the ankles and if we were reclined, and you happen to be kissing me at the same time we're playing footsie, I could get carried away and slide my foot right up your leg and end up playing footsie with a pterodactyl."

The image of her naked foot sliding up his naked thigh and her toes making contact anywhere in the vicinity of his tattoo definitely activated things more, and even though he knew Kit was teasing, she was also making him want things that took him away from his goal of remaining completely unattached.

Redirecting his thoughts, he said, "So, what do you think of the view?"

Kit released his hand and stood at the edge of the rise. While gazing out over the mountains, a slight breeze caught her hair and flipped it around her face. She raised her hand and dragged it away, then glanced over her shoulder at him and said, "The view reminds me of a song."

Marc walked up and stood behind her. Putting his hands on her shoulders, and looking over the top of her head, he said, "What song?"

"The Sound of Music."

Marc slid his palms down her arms and covered her hands with his, then crossed their arms together in front of her and stood with her, while admiring the view. It had been years since he'd looked out over the mountains, and while he was away he'd given it no thought, but if he'd tried to picture it he would never have imagined it like it was now.

Or maybe things around him were beginning to be a little clearer.

Kit uncrossed their arms and turned to face Marc, and said, "It's a beautiful view out there but I think I like this view better." She curved her arms around his neck and kissed him again, but before things started whirling out of control, she ended the kiss and said, "Now, we need to go back." She turned out of his arms and started across the meadow towards the horses.

The ride back was initially in silence, since the trail was single-horse wide and steep and winding, which meant the horses had to pick their way along. But as they descended, Marc had time to mull things over, not about fixing his current problem, but about the fact that Kit made it clear she was attracted to him, but with limitations that forced the issue of commitment. He wasn't even close to that, but he wasn't ready for Kit to walk out of his life either.

As they drew near the ranch, when the trail widened so they could ride side-by-side again, he said, "How much time will you give a man with personal baggage to prove himself before you'll give up and move on?"

"It's not a matter of time," Kit said, "it's a matter of understanding exactly what a committed relationship is, which is not about pairing off for sex. That's part of it, but in a line-up of importance, sex doesn't pull any more weight than eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom, all of which bring temporary satisfaction that needs to be renewed on a regular basis. But a committed relationship is about filling voids in another person's life in a way that also fills voids in your own life. It's complicated, and you're not ready for it. Maybe after you've unloaded some of the baggage you will be."

"How about, you give me one night to see how we are together," Marc said then wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Even his brothers could give Kit a night of hot sex that would be satisfying to her because she was a responsive woman who obviously liked sex.

"I'm sure we'd be very good together," Kit said, "and maybe that little romantic streak you mentioned would speed my heart rate up some, but after we wake up from a great night's sleep, have some really hot sex before having a really great camp cookout breakfast, and use the Porta Potty of course, while we'd be spending the day digging, you'd be fantasizing about having more hot sex when we're done, instead of wondering if you were filling a void for me, like possibly you'd give your life for me because... I don't know, maybe you loved me?"

"I could love you like that," Marc replied, and wondered where this was going.

"You're miles away from it," Kit said, "because you're miles away from loving yourself. Your problem is, you're being an omega wolf. You think everyone around here puts up with you out of obligation because your mother didn't want you and your legal father gave you to the alpha pair to raise. Maybe everyone actually loves you because of a couple dozen reasons I can think of off the top of my head, and which you need to figure out for yourself."

Again, Marc said nothing, because Kit had just put him on the defensive, and that never sat well with him. But he didn't have much argument either.

"While you're sorting that out, Hansen, keep in mind that I do like the way you kiss. And now we really need to go back and lay things out for digging up a mound."

CHAPTER 8

After Kit went over with Marc the model she planned to use to start the two exploratory excavations, she said to him, "Once we begin turning things up we can revise, but I'm initially going along with you in stating in my unit log that this was the regular winter site of a village of a group of hunter gatherers, possibly one of the Kalapuya tribes, which would date the last occupation prior to 1857 when the Indians in the valley were amalgamated and moved to the reservation at Grand Ronde. The excavation should reveal the dugout areas where pit houses once stood, along with individual middens that will turn up animal bones, hammerstones, grinding stones, chipped stone tools, lithic flakes, and other debitage produced during lithic reduction. I'm naming it the Dancing Moon Site."

"Okay then, let's get started working out the study area," Marc said.

For the next few of hours, and with the use of transits, they laid out a horizontal grid over the site, and at regular intervals, staked flags with reference numbers on them. The network of uniformly-spaced squares would be further divided into units, and with the grid designated, they'd be able to measure and record the position of all artifacts and features across a site and document everything on diagrams drawn to scale.

After they'd finished laying out the grid, Kit took photographs of the lay of the land while Marc unloaded from his truck, several tall stacks of white plastic five-gallon buckets, along with some of the excavating tools that included a couple of scissor-type posthole diggers. The last thing to do before starting would be to make a scale drawing of the site.

While Kit was standing just to the side of the site, studying the four quadrants where they'd be systematically digging holes in order to determine where they'd excavate the five-foot square areas, Marc came up to her, with a posthole digger in his hand, and said, "While you make the site drawing I'll start digging holes in quadrant one."

"That's fine," Kit replied. As she turned away from Marc, she was surprised to see a dark-haired girl standing some distance away, watching them. Nudging Marc, she pointed in the direction of the girl and said, "Is that your sister over there?"

Marc turned and looked to where Kit was pointing, and said, "No. Maddy would be shorter."

"She's almost fifteen," Kit reminded him.

"That girl looks older," Marc replied, "She's probably Tyler's girlfriend."

"But she looks like your brothers," Kit said. "She also looks angry."

Marc took another look. Then his brows drew together and his eyes sharpened, and he said, "If it's Maddy, she did a whole lot of growing, like she's even got…" he paused.

"The works," Kit filled in. "You've been gone too long. Your little sister grew up while you were away."

"Maybe it is Maddy," Marc said. He took a few steps forward and made a sweep with his hand for her to come over, but instead of starting toward them, Maddy stared at him for a few moments then turned and walked away.

"I need to see what that's all about," Marc said. He started after Maddy at a jog.

When he caught up with her, Kit watched from a distance, but the body language was clear. When Marc took Maddy's arm to stop her from walking off, Maddy jerked her arm free, said to him what were obviously harsh words, because her hands were slashing through the air, then she turned abruptly and ran toward the house. Marc started after her, then stopped and watched. He stood for a long time, hands at his sides, staring after Maddy as if he didn't know whether to go after her or leave her be. Then, turning slowly, he started back toward where Kit stood watching. From the look on his face, she could tell he was devastated by whatever Maddy told him.

As he approached, Kit said, "What did she say to you?"

Marc shrugged. "That she hated me because I made Mom sad and ruined every Christmas and she wished I'd never come home."

"She's fourteen," Kit said. "Girls get emotional. She didn't mean it."

"She meant it." Marc shrugged away from Kit's hand, picked up the posthole digger, stepped into quadrant one and shoved the digger into the ground, then started turning it with a vengeance.

Kit returned to making the site drawing, but after Marc finished the third hole, and seeing how agitated he was, she said to him, "Stop digging. You need to talk to Maddy."

Marc gave a little snort. "You didn't see the look in her eyes. She's done with me and she's right. I did make a mess of things. My mother's an emotional wreck, my father only wants me here because it's what mom wants and—"

"Rick named his son after you," Kit pointed out.

"I haven't figured that one out yet," Marc said. He jammed the digger into the hole he'd been working on and met resistance, so he jammed it again with more force.

Kit was about to suggest he stop and go soak in the hot springs pool when she heard the sound of metal striking something hard. Marc set the digger aside and picked up a trench shovel and started slicing off thin sections of the hole, gradually widening it. Sticking his arm in the hole, he said, "It's feels like a slab of stone." Picking up the shovel, he dug further, and when the hole was about a foot across, he reach down and pulled out a large flat rock and brushed away the dirt. Kit looked at the thing in his hand. "It's worn down in the center," she said, while pointing. "It looks like a grinding slab. It's pretty much intact too so we must have hit a level of human occupation."

"If so, we should find some animal bones and tools and ash remains, and other evidence of cooking," Marc replied.

Glancing beyond Marc, and seeing Jack walking toward them in long strides, with a dogged look on his face, Kit said, "Your dad's coming and he looks concerned."

Marc turned around and drew in a long breath and said, in a troubled voice, "It probably has something to do with Maddy."

As Jack approached, his expression changed, and his mouth twitched in a kind of half smile. He nodded to Kit, then looked at the stone slab in Marc's hand and said, "Is that just a big rock or did you find something?"

"It's probably a grinding stone," Marc replied.

Jack eyed the stone as if he wasn't sure whether to be glad or concerned. Then seeming to dismiss the find, he said to Marc, "Your mother wants the two of you to eat with the family."

Marc glanced toward the house. "When?"

"All meals."

Marc eyed the site with its grid of flags, and said, "I know Mom means well but we can't stop for meals or we'll never be done with this dig."

Jack's face hardened. "Then you might have to choose between this and your mother."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marc asked.

"That you convinced your mother you came home to be with family," Jack replied. "Now you need to prove it to her. You owe her something."

Marc looked across the grounds to where his parent's house sat to the left of the lodge, and his face became thoughtful, like he was considering that. Looking back at his father, he said, "I know how much I owe Mom. What time is dinner?"

"Noon, like it's always been on Sunday," Jack replied.

"That's in fifteen minutes," Marc said. "I'm covered in dirt from digging."

"You can brush the dirt off. Your mother will understand."

Marc glanced toward the house again. "I suppose everyone will be there?"

Jack nodded. Then he surprised them by smiling and saying, "Your brothers should be done talking about bull riding so maybe you can tell the family about archaeology. It wouldn't hurt to expand everyone's horizons some."

When Marc said nothing, Kit was ready to jab him in the ribs and tell him his father had just offered him the peace pipe and to stop being a butthead and accept it.

Maybe Marc got the message, because he smiled back, which reminded Kit again that the men really did have the same smile, and said, "Whenever I start talking about muons or giant scorpions or mummies Kit's eyes glaze over. Are you sure my brothers' won't do the same?"

"You could be right," Jack said. He turned to Kit. "I guess it's up to you to expand my sons' horizons." His smile widened, then he patted Marc on the back, turned, and headed for the house.

"So," Marc said, as he watched his father walking away, "what did you make of that?"

"Nothing much," Kit replied, "other than your father just welcomed you home with open arms and told you he was proud of you and he wants you to expand the horizons of his other sons, whose entire intellectual capacity is limited to a bull pen, and your mother's happy once again because she has her missing son back. Does that cover some of it?"

Marc's lips twitched in a little smile. "Maybe."

Kit reached up and touched his mouth, and said, "Did you notice your father's smile?"

Marc held her gaze. "Yeah, he's okay when he does that."

"I know, because you have his smile. Did anyone ever tell you that?" Kit traced a finger along his bottom lip, and he nipped at it.

"You just did," Marc said.

Kit stared at his mouth, thinking it was pretty sexy for a male mouth. And there was no question, Marc's smile did things to her, tingly, erotic things in places well hidden from view. "Can I kiss it?" She asked, concentrating on what it had been like up at the cabin.

Marc glanced around. "Maybe not here. Dad's rules."

Kit picked a seed pod off Marc's shirt and rested her hand against his chest, mainly because she wanted to touch him. Looking up at him, she said, "I didn't think the rules excluded kissing."

Marc curved his palm around her hand, and replied, "They do when an unmarried couple has tents set up a hundred feet apart."

"You could move your tent closer and get around the one-hundred-foot rule."

Marc kissed the flat of Kit's palm and said, while looking at her, "Is this an invitation?"

"A partial one," Kit replied. "And you just got rid of a chunk of personal baggage and earned another ten points."

Marc eyed her with curiosity. "Ten points for what?"

"Five points for pleasing your father and five points for kissing my hand. That was sweet and romantic."

"If I move my tent, kiss your hand, and show you my tattoo, will that get me more points?" Marc held her gaze and waited.

"The tattoo doesn't count," Kit said. "It's in the wrong place."

"And the tent?"

"Better stay where it is until we finish the dig."

"And after the dig?"

"Who knows," Kit said, aware that her hand was still enclosed in Marc's palm and liking the feel of his big hand around hers. "But I'll settle for a kiss at my place after sundown tonight."

"You've got a date." Marc dropped her hand.

After a quick cleanup at their individual campsites, they walked to the house, and fifteen minutes later, sat down with the family, sharing a Sunday dinner of baked ham and an array of side dishes intended to fill a bunch of hungry men. It was much as it had been two nights before, except that Maddy was sitting where there had been an empty chair. She said nothing, just glared at Marc whenever she had the occasion to look toward him, and Kit decided she'd somehow manage to get Maddy aside and try to straighten things out. Maddy didn't appear to be an unreasonable girl, just angry that her brother upset a lot of lives for reasons she was probably unclear about. The reasons were becoming a little more focused to Kit now.

Jack looked much more approachable, especially when he said to his younger four sons, "If you boys will be quiet for a few minutes Kit will tell us about what she and Marc are doing at the mound."

Jack had barely gotten the words out, when Ryan said, "Sure Kit, tell us about it. Give me some pointers and I'll come help dig."

"Fine, bring a posthole digger after we're finished eating and we'll get you started," Kit said, then noticed that Marc wasn't too happy about that. Giving him a slightly ironic smile, she said, "I imagine Ryan will be able to get us pretty far along with the holes. He looks up to it."

Marc shrugged. "It's your project."

"I can bring a posthole digger too," Jeremy said. "Why are we digging holes?"

Ryan looked at his brother as if he were dense, and said, "Obviously we're putting a fence around the place."

"Actually, that's not what we're doing," Kit said. "We're taking samples of the soil and whatever's in it. Wherever we find the highest concentration of artifacts we'll start systematically digging in four-to-six inch levels using hand trowels. We also use toothbrushes and dental tools for the close work." She looked from one blank face to the next, and said, "Not quite as exciting as riding bulls, but sometimes you find real treasures, which makes it all worthwhile."

"Like what kind of treasures?" Ryan asked.

"Like the fossilized claw of an eight-foot scorpion. Marc can tell you more about it."

When everyone turned to Marc, he shrugged, and said, "It was named
Jaekelopterus
rhenaniae
. A palaeoscientist discovered it when loosening rock with a hammer and chisel. He credited the size to the higher levels of oxygen in the atmosphere 390-million-years ago, which accounted for the super-sized bodies of jumbo dragonflies, monster millipedes, and huge cockroaches."