Paper Moon (16 page)

“So what is the first thing ancient man did? He copied the layout and made a physical calendar-almanac combination. Then one thing led to another and another, and soon”—Caroline pointed to the giant pyramid towering over the rest—“man was making those.

Now he uses a Palm Pilot!”

Blaine stopped, his head cocked as he dug into her gaze with his own.

There was no retreating from whatever he had in mind to say, nor could she if she wanted to. Where better to stand than on the foundation of her faith? It wouldn't fail, although her knees might if he didn't say something soon. What on earth was he looking for, visible signs of lunacy?

With her package tucked under one arm, Blaine leaned against the rock wall behind Caroline with his free hand. “You have the most remarkable way of taking the complex issues and simplifying them so that even a left brain like me can understand them.”

That was good, right? This close to Blaine, she couldn't think.

“John, what brings you here?” Karen's hail broke the bubble of awareness surrounding them, letting in the rest of the world.

Blaine straightened as though he'd been jabbed from behind with the spear carved on one of the stone reliefs, as Annie and Karen bolted away from Kurt and Wally's company toward a couple of young men waving from the Avenue of the Dead.

“Well, if it isn't the Bandito kid and his Mexican sidekick,”

Blaine drawled. “What, are they following us?”

The chance for Caroline to separate her fact from Dana's Romance fiction was as welcome to her as the sight of the Banditos boys to the girls . . . until one of her scrambled senses reported that she was leaning against a centuries-old wall that might house creepy crawlies. Doing a hasty sidestep, she gave the wall that had been at her back a quick once-over. No telltale webs.

“Oh, joy, it's the college boys.” As thrilled as Blaine, Kurt jammed a disposable camera into the pocket of his oversized shirt, kicking the dust as he passed by.

Seizing the moment, Caroline excused herself. “Uh-oh, Cupid alert. Maybe I'd better check this out.”

“I'm right with you,” Blaine said, speeding his step to catch up.

The irony of her situation was not lost on her as she scurried after her daughter.
Lord, I came to chaperone the kids, so why do I feel
as if I'm the one who needs watching?

An hour later, Blaine waited at the bottom of the Pyramid of the Sun with most of the adults in the group and snapped pictures of his daughter as she waved from its summit.

He couldn't shake the spell. He wasn't certain he wanted to.

Enigmas fascinated him, and Caroline was a cross between teacher and philosopher, nurturing mom, and the freckled pixie who'd scrambled up the side of the pyramid behind her daughter like one of the kids. He admired her ability to take the complexities of her faith and sift them into common-sense applications. For all his studies, he'd never looked at man's accomplishments as learned from divine design. But then, he'd had problems seeing much divine, especially after his late wife's problems and death. God knew he wanted to.

So what is holding you back?

“Dad!” Karen waved her hands over her head, drawing his attention to where Annie and the boy from Banditos stood on either side of Caroline a few steps from the top of the Pyramid of the Sun. “Dad, we need your help!”

At that moment, the threesome moved down two steps.

Caroline sank sideways, her hip propped on the narrow edge, and put her head down. Something was wrong with Caroline, very wrong. Leaving the heavy package with Randy Gearhardt, Blaine started up the steps, his mind accelerating to access the situation.

With her fair complexion, it could be sunstroke, although she wore a cute little straw hat.

Above him, Caroline rallied, and the threesome moved down a few more steps. Once again they stopped, with Caroline leaning against the pyramid. By the time Blaine reached them, they'd made it a third of the way down.

“What's the problem?” Blaine stopped to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. His racing heart reminded him that the fifteen-inch risers weren't built to be scaled in haste, but in reverence— sideways, and one narrow step at a time.

Caroline groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I feel like such a dolt.”

“You're not a dolt, Miz C,” John assured her. “You
feel
how steep this thing is going up, but coming down, you
see
it.”

“When I started down, one look and I thought I was going to toss up my breakfast or faint,” Caroline said, venturing a glance in Blaine's direction. “I'm so embarrassed.”

Fear obliterated her characteristic blush of embarrassment with a ghostly pallor. Blaine put a hand on her arm. Despite the sun burning down on them, she was cold and clammy.

“You still feel like you're going to faint?” he asked.

“Only when I look down,” she mumbled.

“We tried backing down, but the steps are too tall and the foot part is too short,” Annie told him. “Mom skinned her leg and almost fell down the pyramid face-first.”

“Why did I ever want to see the view?” Caroline chastised herself. “Those Indians didn't sacrifice people up there. The victims cut their own throats to keep from having to come down.”

Blaine had to chuckle. Even in the midst of her terror, Caroline's sense of humor refused to remain submerged for long. And it was a long, steep drop, enough to give him second thoughts about the trip down.

“You are one cool lady, Miz C.” John gave Caroline a playful pinch on the cheek. “Now just look into my eyes like before. Annie is behind you, I'm in front of you, and Mr. Madison is on the open side. He won't let you fall.”

“I thank God for all of you. I don't know what I'd have done if John hadn't calmed me down up there. I . . . I felt like I was being drawn over the edge.” She shuddered. “I can't explain it, but it was horrible.”

“Don't think about it,” the young man warned her. “Just keep on doing what we were doing and don't take your eyes off mine, okay?”

“Okay.” Caroline allowed John to draw her into an upright position, her feet one in front of the other on the same five-inch ledge. “None of us is getting any younger, and the only thing worse than having four people baby me down would be being airlifted off this thing.”

“You got that right,” John chuckled. “Now, ready? Take one step down. We've got you covered.”

Blaine had to admit, the young man was good. Caroline moved one foot down on his
One
and the other down on
Two and rest.

“Have you done any climbing or training, John?”

“I was a counselor at a mountain camp for a couple of summers,” he answered, not taking his gaze from Caroline's desperate one. “Ready? And one . . . ” He paused. “And two and rest.”

With his one hand on Caroline's shoulder and the other on her arm, Blaine stepped back accordingly, finding the ledge below with the ball of his foot. It wasn't unlike rock climbing, except that the footholds were regular, if shallow.

It was a slow process. Occasionally Caroline spared him a darting glance filled with apology, but for the most part, John talked her down, answering her questions about his summer jobs and aspirations to keep her mind off the prospect of falling.

When Caroline touched down at ground level, the Edenton group, which by now had gathered in its entirety at the foot of the pyramid, burst into applause. Blaine was relieved to see the creep of color come back to her face as they were surrounded.

“Boy, some people will do anything to get attention.” Dana gave her friend a big hug.

Caroline reached back and pulled John and Annie into the spotlight. “My heroes . . . and Blaine, of course,” she added.

The smile she gave him was sheepish, a mixture of appreciation and something else—something that triggered a quickening in his chest.

“Hey, what about me?” Karen protested.

“And Karen,” Caroline added, “for having a mouth big enough to summon help from below to the heavens.”

Karen grinned from ear to ear as Caroline tugged her ponytail.

It was a joy to watch them together. Caroline Spencer was just what Karen needed.

“Where's my package?”

It took a moment for Blaine to register that he was staring at the subject of his thoughts and that she was speaking to him.

“I've got it,” Randy said.

Rattled, Blaine intercepted the package. He'd forgotten what he'd done with it in the hurry to reach Caroline and the girls.

“Thanks.”

“No more pyramids for you, young lady,” Hector teased Caroline as he raised his fan banner to muster attention. “Okay, folks. You have twenty minutes for last-minute shopping, then we need to get to the bus. In thirty minutes, it will be on its way to the mission at Mexicalli.”

“Oh man.” John Chandler ran his hand through his sun-bleached hair.

“What is it, honey?” Caroline asked, taking another chick under her wing, despite the challenge of John's height.

The young man looked in the direction of the parking lot. “I believe I've missed my bus.”

“What was the number?” Hector inquired.

“Fourteen-twenty, I think. It's headed for Cuernavaca, then Taxco tonight.”

“I'll call them and tell them we have you, but we are staying two nights at the Mexicalli mission.” Hector took out a cell phone and punched in some numbers. “You maybe can hire a taxi from there to Taxco, but it will be costly.”

John winced. “I hope they have an ATM at the mission.”

“Can't he just catch up with his group in Taxco?” Caroline asked.

“We've been kind of running in tandem with his bus anyway.”

“Yes,” Hector said, “but remember, your group opted to exchange one of the free days in Acapulco for one at the mission.

John's group will be in Acapulco the day we arrive in Taxco. Then we will catch up with them the following day.”

“I'll pay for his cab. It's the least we can do,” Blaine offered.

He wasn't keen on John Chandler joining Caroline's flock.

There was something about him that didn't sit well, and it wasn't just the way Karen practically swooned at his feet. But in spite of that, the boy had done them a good turn. They couldn't just walk away from him now.

CHAPTER
12

“Dad, do you mind if John takes the extra bed in your room?”

Karen asked as the bus pulled into Mexicalli a few hours later.

John Scott Chandler had no worries at all, save having to wear the same expensive clothes three days in a row. Caroline had insisted on buying his lunch at the roadside restaurant and souvenir shop, which was built around a picturesque courtyard where a jolly trio of mariachis and an Indian family entertained with native song and dance. And in case the lad should grow faint with weakness between stops, the girls shared their stash of gummy candy, making a game of tossing them into his mouth.
Now the fair Caesar is moving in
with me,
thought Blaine.

Blaine gritted his teeth, but nodded. “Sure, no problem.” At least he could keep an eye on the kid this way.

Once Hector checked the group into the Casa Jacaranda, a quaint little mountain inn shaded by the misty blue trees for which it was named, Blaine and the men in the group helped the driver unload the suitcases that were to remain with the tourists. Cavalier to his Rockport sneakers, John immediately stepped up to take Karen's and Annie's bags. Like groupies, they followed, their wrists and ankles rattling in his wake with their souvenir
agoyotas
— anklets with small gourds strung on them.

Blaine fumed in silence. He'd spent good money on this trip, put his business at risk—heaven knew what Mark was doing back home—and this kid was reaping the reward. The low growl in Blaine's throat died as he was hit with the realization: John reminded Blaine of his younger brother—all flash, smooth talk, and no substance. Spoiled by their mother, Mark had no ambition.