Forbidden Ground (Cold Creek #2)(24)

“You’d be amazed at what those mounds preserve. Yours, being small with less air inside, hopefully intact with no cave-in, and away from water, could make it a prime excavation site.”

“Besides private-property rights, isn’t there some government act that says you can’t disturb tribal graves?”

“You’ve been doing some homework. That’s the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act. But that’s geared more toward historic Indian tribes, to have bones and artifacts either left buried, or—if the grave has already been tampered with—the things returned to their tribal descendants. But the Adena were prehistoric, and, of course, there are no Adena to give things back to anymore. I hope to prove my theory that they were actually not American Indians but of European stock. They were taller, larger people than more modern Native Americans. My colleague—”

“That Carson Cantrell who phoned you?”

“Yes. He’s been moving heaven and earth to get the government to exempt the Adena from the Graves Protection act, although, of course, any relics of them or their culture must be honored, studied and displayed for the common good.”

“As for bodies,” he said, as they headed toward the back door, “I’ve read they cremated some of their dead, so maybe there are no corpses in these mounds, though I guess bones and teeth could outlast flames.”

“It’s been long accepted that the Adena did cremate those of lower castes. But some of us believe that individuals actually chose what would be done with their bodies after death, just like people today can choose cremation or burial. After we check your mound, I’m going back to retrieve the star from Cold Creek Mound.”

He seemed to be dragging his feet, but they went out the back door and across the yard toward the mound. Kate’s heart rate increased. Bit by bit, she had to convince Grant—maybe Brad, too, though she knew Grant was the one in charge here—to let her excavate this mound.

“You’re right,” she told him as they stood at the bottom of the mound. “Lots of growth even high up. But I think we can still climb it. No poison ivy, I hope, though those old hawthorn trees will keep us from going up that way. Bet you never rolled down the hill as a kid into those—at least not more than once. They must be diseased. The whole thicket is dying.”

“Yeah, I see. I hadn’t noticed that,” he said, frowning.

She started climbing, bending forward, grabbing at saplings when she could. She hoped Grant was not still staring at the tree-trunk ruin of his bird’s-eye maple, but she heard him right behind her.

“Look!” she cried, once the mound leveled out on top. “No signs of cave-ins at all. Even with the bushes and wildflowers up here, it looks pretty solid. I’ve seen enough mounds here and in Europe to know.”

He put his hand around her upper arm. “Maybe we shouldn’t add our weight to it, though.”

“I’m telling you, I’ve walked on lots of these. Besides, that star was new and not deep in the ground, kind of sticking up. Shiny, too, so if there’s one here, it shouldn’t be hard to see. I’m just going to walk around a bit up here, okay?”

For one moment she was afraid she should not have asked him and should have just plunged ahead. Surely, since they were standing here, he wouldn’t try to stop her. But his sky-blue gaze was so intense that she felt mesmerized and didn’t move. The breeze ruffled his blond hair to remind her that he had once been a little boy who played here, who thought of his grandpa and dad when he was near the mound. Surely that was why he was so protective of this place. And that was only one of many reasons he got to her so deeply, physically but emotionally, too.

Somehow, suddenly, they were in each other’s arms. Holding tight, her breasts flattened against his chest, his hands moved to her waist and back. She clamped him to her with her arms hard around his middle. He dipped his head. She tilted hers upward. If he had not been holding her, the kiss surely would have swept her off the mound and far away.

Kate propped her shaking knees against his legs. His right hand moved to caress her hair, tenderly at first, then holding her head as if she would flee, when she wasn’t going anywhere.

The kiss went on and on. For once, she couldn’t even think, only feel and want. For one insane moment she imagined he was what she had been searching for, not some star or revelation. This was stronger than her passion for discovering things. She wanted to know Grant Mason—she wanted Grant Mason....

When they broke the kiss, she felt devastated, but sanity came flooding back. However desirable this man was, he was dangerous, too. He stood in the way of what she wanted—especially if he became what she wanted more than all she’d worked for. His ex-wife fled being trapped in this little town. Kate could understand that. She couldn’t imagine wanting to stay in Cold Creek, but neither could she fathom wanting to leave this man.

Grant held her gently and sighed. He trailed his fingertips down her throat in a light caress to just below her collarbones. His tension had turned tender. Her skin tingled at his touch.

“Can’t apologize for that,” he whispered.

“You’d better not,” she replied. “If that was a diversionary tactic, I’m ready to be diverted again.”

“You’re not. You’re like a dog after a bone—excuse the comparison for a beautiful woman.”