Read Online Lone Star Courtship by Mae Nunn - Free Book Online Page B

construction. As they rounded the frame of the partially drywalled building, he stomped the brake. Thick white dust swirled around them, clinging to the dark slacks Barrett would likely burn after this Texas adventure had ended.
    A small crowd could be seen. Some knelt while others stood and leaned in for a better look at whatever held their interest in the center of the circle. The vehicle had stopped only meters from the group, yet no one turned to identify the newcomers.
    â€œWe’re lucky the press ain’t here yet.”
    Just then, as if on cue, a van with a cable station logo pulled alongside the Jeep, sending even more dust flying. A reporter with his microphone at the ready motioned for the cameraman to begin filming and stay close. He caught up with Cooper as he climbed to the ground, so obvious in his H & H shirt.
    â€œParker Pearson, Eye Witness News. Is it true? Could this really be the biggest Karankawan find of the century?”
    â€œSettle down, dubs. The century’s young and it’s just some pots and piles of oyster shells. It ain’t like we uncovered a Mayan pyramid.”
    â€œStill, there hasn’t been a local discovery in years. This is big news. Has the historical society been notified?”
    â€œNot officially, but I’m sure you’ll take care of that.”
    â€œStand over there, Chuck. Shoot me from the left.”
    â€œJust call it your good side and get it over with, Parker.” The man known as Chuck rolled his eyes and hoisted the camera to his shoulder. “It’s not like we don’t know about that big mole on your right cheek.”
    â€œNoonday news with Parker Pearson here. We’re at the site where a new Hearth and Home supercenter is under construction and set to open in less than ninety days. We’ve received a tip that Karankawan artifacts were unearthed here only hours ago and the cache of pottery and utensils may be the most notable in decades. Excuse me.” He elbowed his way through the building crew and pressed forward toward Casey. “Ma’am, are you the member of the Hardy family who’s managing this construction?” He spoke to her but smiled for the camera lens.
    Not dressed much differently than she had been when they’d parted ways at 7:00 a.m., Casey tilted her head back and peeked from underneath the signature orange cap. In her hands she cradled a beautifully preserved liter-size clay bowl with fish painted end to end around the lip. She held the earthenware aloft, gently brushing away the years of dirt.
    â€œLook, isn’t it magnificent? I’ve never held anything like it.” Her eyes, which Barrett found much more magnificent than the dusty old basin, sought his. He smiled to reassure her, though it didn’t appear she felt the worry Cooper had expressed.
    â€œMiss Hardy!” Pearson grasped for the artifact as if to save it from destruction. She pulled it protectively to her chest as he continued. “That piece could be over four hundred years old. You must be careful.”
    Several cars had come to a stop nearby and a dozen newcomers rushed the site.
    â€œWe declare this location sacred Karankawa territory!” one shouted.
    â€œDon’t touch another thing!” the next insisted. “You could be unearthing a burial ground. Who knows what kind of spirits we could be disturbing.”
    The band of local activists moved into place before the camera.
    â€œOh, for pity’s sake.” Cooper stepped forward and inserted himself between the small frenzy and Casey.
    â€œThis stuff gets turned up all the time. I’ve lived in this neck of the woods for sixty-six years and everywhere you dig a hole from Galveston to Corpus Christi you’re likely to unearth spearheads and hunks of pottery. There’s nothing sacred or spiritual about it.”
    â€œThat’s for the authorities to decide,” the newsman chimed in, facing the camera again.