Love Me: The Complete Series (48 page)

“I am so charging you double-time for this.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with that. As long as we can double on a few other things too.”
In particular, the shower thing.
He decided not to wait for her to grumble further and retract her decision to climb. Maybe if he’d already gone part of the way she’d have less concern. He strapped into his climbing gear and started scaling the wall. Celia stayed below, giving Amanda some brief instruction before urging her to follow.

When he glanced over his shoulder, she was ten feet behind and seemed fine. He couldn’t see her face but he expected there was the same measure of intensity he remembered from when she was elbows-deep in a study session or legal matter. Amanda had the fierce concentration of a starved dog focused on a bone. When she wanted something, the fool who stood in her way had better expect to be pulverized.

He loved that about her. It was infectious. Jackson pushed up and grabbed the ledge. Bigby wrapped two gloved hands around his wrist and pulled him the last few feet. Once securely on solid ground, Jackson rolled to his stomach and peered toward Amanda. Specks of gravel and dust rattled down the rock wall and pelted her shoulders. She had only a few feet left.

Amanda ducked and stuck her tongue out to spit the dirt away. “Hey! Do you mind not spraying me with rocks here? It’s hard enough to hold on without dirt in my eyes.”

Kaboom.

The ground shook from the sound of the thunderbolt. Jackson jolted, Amanda screamed, and before he could grasp the hand that was extended she fell backward. With his rope still secured, he shoved over the edge. The rope whirred as he sailed to her side. Two big leaps and he was there beside Amanda as she hung from the rope, dangling like a needle on a thread.

Jackson pulled her tight, his chest thumping at Mach-One speed.
Holy shit, that was close.
The thought of her falling to serious injury made him sick. Her fingers dug deeply into his flesh but he didn’t care.
Get a grip, dumb ass. She was never in real danger. The rope made sure of that.
He peered down at Celia latched on with all her strength. The rope plus Celia’s deceptive strength kept the danger at bay.

“Jackson, don’t let go. Please.” Amanda’s voice was muffled by his throat as he held her tight and pulled them to a rock outcropping just below the ledge.

“Never.” He hooked a leg over the outcropping and readjusted their weight. “We’ll go the rest of the way together.”

“You mean down, right?”

He shook his head. “Up is closer.”

“But you heard the thunder—we’ll get soaked.”

“Better on the ledge under the rock overhang than down there with all those trees jutting above us like lightning rods. I don’t know about you but I’m not in the mood for a little electrocution today.”

She darted a glance from the ledge to him and back. He knew she was considering her options. He wanted her with him—where he could make sure she was safe. He hooked his rope to the loop on her harness. “We’re going up. Together. Just follow my lead. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Jackson reached for a rock and waited for her to do the same. When she did, he lifted a foot and found a hold for his shoe. She followed the action and ten minutes later, they reached the ledge where Bigby pulled Amanda into safety.

Seconds later the rain began.

Bigby motioned for them to move against the inner wall and use the sanctity of the stone overhang to shield them from the pounding drops. The scraping of their shoes as they crawled into the miniature cave was drowned out by the rainfall.

Would Celia wait for them? Of course not. He wouldn’t. Why should she? She’d get drenched. Jackson pulled the ropes in and rolled them neatly into a pile and tied them together. He kept one rope anchored to Amanda’s belt and latched to one of the anchors on his own belt. Call it overprotective, but he’d nearly lost ten years off his life earlier.

Jackson stared at the blur of rain as it splashed into their cubbyhole. “We should do this another time.”

Bigby seemed excited about the turn of the weather. Or maybe it was more relaxed than excited. Undisturbed. “Too late for that now. We’re here and there’s no sense in trying to climb down in these conditions.”

The guy seemed to enjoy their discomfort almost as much as he enjoyed the anticipation of whatever he planned to show them. It had been impossible to pry any information from him on the phone. Jackson didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking as soon as they arrived. He expected it would be met with some sort of avoidance tactic. All the man had said was he was going for a nice climb on the property and would like them to join him so that he could show them the importance of the land. Would Bigby be so happy with the situation if Jackson chose to call the entire excursion off and take Amanda home?

Doubtful.

“Bigby, the rain could cause a problem for whatever relics you wanted us to see.”

The man knew he held them hostage. Or at least the rain had, which was probably better anyway. If they left at the moment, the least they’d get was drenched to the bone and risking pneumonia. Not that they were completely dry anyway. The rain hit the stone ledge and sprayed them with mist almost as much as it delved to the ground below. Amanda’s blond ponytail was dark, and limply curled around itself toward her neck. Lucky hair.

The worst that could happen? Struck by one of those massive lightning bolts that made the ground shudder.

Bigby lifted a hand toward the inner wall of their respite, drips of water running down his wrist and dripping to his lap. He ran the fingers across the wall above him. “Check this out. Ever seen anything like this?”

Until that moment Jackson hadn’t spent more than a second or two evaluating the space they were in. As if a light bulb—or lightning bolt—struck her, Amanda gasped. “Oh my God, it’s some sort of Indian hieroglyphics, isn’t it? Wow! That’s amazing.”

Bigby laughed. “I wish. No, it’s nothing that old or precious, but it is a great message. Especially if you combine it with what’s in the box I found up there.” He pointed to a small hole that appeared to be freshly dug into the stone, except for the pile of bird shit streaming down the rocks and the knot of sticks and leaves that signified a bird had taken up residence.

Jackson lifted a brow. “Behind the bird nest?”

“Yep. The bird’s been gone for a while but it served as a good way to cover up what’s there.”

Amanda crawled closer and peered behind the nest. “You’re sure it’s gone? I’d hate to mess with Mother Nature. Or have a big angry bird attack us for desecrating her home.”

Bigby reached a hand up and yanked the nest from the hole, then tossed it to the ledge. “I’m sure.”

While Amanda searched the small hole, afraid to remove its contents, Jackson started to review the chicken scratches carved into the wall. No Indian had made those marks. Judging by the clothing of the stick figures, he guessed it was much more recent. Still, the first portion of the drawing was worn away by wind and time so it hadn’t been made recently. There was no mistaking the final message, though. There was a man with a bandage on his head—or at least that’s what he thought it to be—then a tree, a woman, and a child, plus the message
Find me
scrawled below. Jackson wasn’t impressed with the person’s artistic ability. “Is this our big archeological find? A bunch of chicken scratches on a wall?”

Amanda frowned. “It’s a love story. Look. Start at the beginning.” She pointed toward the opposite end. “Two kids playing. Two kids holding hands. Two lovers kissing. Then one waving—not sure about that. Maybe he was leaving? Or she was? Then the last picture. Maybe they got married?”

Jackson didn’t exactly see the romance in it. “Or pregnant.”

He looked down when she shot him a reprimanding glare. He shrugged and attempted an innocent tone. “Hey, depending on how long this has been here, it could be. Or maybe it’s just a couple of kids playing around by drawing pictures in the stone to kill time after climbing all the way up here.”

Bigby nodded. “That’s what I thought at first. Then I found the box there. Go ahead, get it out and take a look.”

Amanda shook her head. “You do it. There might be snakes in there.”

Jackson snickered. “She’s a little paranoid about things that slither.”

Bigby smiled. “So am I. That’s why I have this stick.” He pulled a twig from his pack and poked it into the dark crevice.
Thunk
. It hit something hollow. He wiggled the twig for seconds as if to flush out any current residents.

Jackson had never achieved a normal amount of fear in his lifetime. It was probably a weakness but he’d never considered it such. Instead he fancied himself blessed with a larger sum of common sense than others which kept him calm under pressure and focused in situations of duress. Like he had been when Carter’s sister died.

He sighed. “Here, I’ll get the damn thing.” He shoved his arm into the crevice and felt around in the dampness. His fingers enveloped something square and sandy. A box.

Amanda’s voice whispered at his shoulder, “What is it? Is it moving?”

God help him, but Jackson couldn’t resist what came next. “Holy shit!” He jolted and pretended that his arm was pulled into the crevice. He yelled.

Amanda shrieked. “Oh my God! Get him out. Pull it out. Kill it! Kill it!” Her eyes were the size of half-dollars.

Jackson stopped, no longer able to contain his mirth. The laugh rolled up inside and eventually bubbled out. Slipping his fingers around the box, he pulled it from the opening and laid it at her side. “There you go. One … dead box.”

Her face shriveled up tight and her cheeks flushed crimson. She thrust a finger into his face and Jackson lunged backward. She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. He watched her move like a guppy in a fishbowl. “You! You! Dumb ass.”

“I was just playing around, Mandy. Lighten up.”

She huffed but opened the lid to the box. “Well, it’s a good thing it wasn’t alive because there’s no chance I’d try to save you or help you. Now, what do we have in here?”

Bigby didn’t budge and Jackson had to assume that he’d already done a fair inventory of the contents of the box.
I wonder if he took anything?

Amanda lifted out some plastic bags and turned them over in her hands. “Letters. It’s a bunch of letters.”

Bigby interrupted, no longer able to hold his excitement. “Yes, and some pictures. Look at them.” He took one bag from her fingers and tapped the address. “These are from her to him. The others are from him to her. The ones from him were opened. The others weren’t. See?”

Jackson noted the pink index finger label stamped with the words, “Return to Sender.” He darted a glance over both packages and did a quick count. Ten letters from her to him. Six from him to her, all appeared unopened. “Did you read any of them, Bigby?”

“A few.”

“So what’s in them? And why do we care?”

The rainfall continued to spray their backs but Jackson had situated his frame to shield the box and its contents. The thunderous downfall had weakened to a steady shower and the wind had come and gone as quickly as the saturation.

Bigby squinted at the sky. “That’s the coolest part of this. I can’t tell you—you need to read them. Just know that it has everything to do with this land and why one of the owners will be a problem for you. Unless, of course, you find what can’t be found.”

Jackson hated evasiveness and Bigby was oozing it simply because it added to the drama. “Don’t you mean who? Unless we find the person
who
can’t be found?”

Bigby snapped his rope back into his harness and shrugged. “Whatever. Look, the rain’s stopped and I have to be at work at two so you’re on your own now. If you take anything with you, be sure to bring it back. I’ve inventoried everything and it has been claimed as part of the property.”

Amanda grimaced. “You claimed a bunch of old letters and a cigar box? Are they lined with gold or something?”

“Ha, not exactly but close.”

Bigby’s rope whirred as he descended the rock face in several short lunges. Jackson searched the ground and a few minutes later saw Bigby striding into the trees.

“Wow, that was helpful.” Amanda’s sarcasm wasn’t a surprise. “We’re stuck up here. Celia left when the rain started.”

“Amanda, I’ve climbed a lot and can handle this. Don’t worry, I’ll get you down.” He held his tongue before his thoughts spewed the words
unless you take another dive like earlier.
No need to frighten her.

The rain stopped. The sun peered between the trees and lit the water droplets on the ledge like crystal in a chandelier. It was an opportunity that Bigby was smart enough to use and they should do the same. As if reading his thoughts, Amanda grabbed a rope and clipped it to her harness beside his clip. “We should go, too, before it rains again or the sun fades.”

She had a point. “You don’t have to tell me twice. Should we take the cigar box?” Jackson shoved the plastic bags of letters into the box and dropped the lid into place.

“Yeah, but first let me take some pictures.” Amanda dug into the pocket of her backpack and retrieved her phone. Leaning to the side but staying clear of the ledge, she snapped shots of the carved artwork that adorned the wall of their shelter. Once satisfied, she dropped it back into her pack, added the cigar box, and zipped the bag closed. She slung it over her left shoulder and slipped the right shoulder through the strap. “Ready?”

He had already attached his ropes and slung their safety ties over the edge. He’d made sure her rope was secure before testing his own. “Let me go first. When I get to the first clip, you start down. Watch my footings and try to follow. I’ll clip to your rope too just in case something happens. That will let my weight counter yours.”

Amanda didn’t argue. “Wow, you really do know what you’re doing.”

“Of course. Why would I lie?”

“I wasn’t saying you did. It’s just … this isn’t something I thought you would be interested in. I guess I had you pegged more as the pretty-boy party type.”

Jackson lowered himself over the ledge and with one hand on the rope and the other working his lead, he dropped to the first tie-off. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? We wouldn’t want to ruin my rep.”