Texas Tall - Janet Dailey Page 0,51

bats or spiderwebs. But something about the place gave Lauren cold chills—maybe it was the distinct, musky odor that lingered in the cave’s stale air.

“What’s in there?” Erin demanded.

“Nothing much, but go ahead and look.” Lauren moved back and handed her the flashlight. “Remember, I said look. I didn’t say climb over. You’re not going in there.”

Erin clambered up to the opening and shone the light into the cave. “Wow!” she muttered. “I can see all the way to that hole in the back. Maybe that’s where they hid the treasure.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Lauren said.

“Okay, for now. But let’s move more rocks away. Then it’ll be easier to see what’s there.”

They shoved the rocks to the sides until the pile was no higher than their knees. Lauren was hurting, but she couldn’t help being curious. If they hadn’t found Spanish gold, they’d at least discovered something. But her danger sense was still tingling. With most of the rock barrier gone, daylight lit the cave. They could see clearly all the way back to the dark opening in the floor. It was irregular in shape, like a jagged crack where the ancient rock had split and settled. At its widest point it was about two feet across.

Erin had picked up the flashlight. “Let’s go see what’s down there!”

“Wait!” Lauren handed her a rock. “Throw this down first. If we can hear it land—”

“Got it.” Erin gave the stone an easy toss. It bounced off the edge and vanished down the dark crack. They could hear the faint clatter as it ricocheted off the sides, then silence. They glanced at each other. The hole was deep.

“Don’t worry, I’m only going to look.” Erin started forward.

“No—listen!” Lauren gripped her arm. “Listen!”

For the first few seconds, they could barely hear it—a faint, rattling buzz—one, then a second, then a chorus of sound that seemed to echo off the walls of the cave.

“Rattlesnakes,” Erin said. “I know that sound. They’ve got a winter den down there.”

Lauren’s knees went weak. She’d always been terrified of snakes. “Let’s get out of here!” she said, tugging Erin back.

Erin resisted. “We’ll be all right. The snakes are down there to hibernate. As long as we don’t bother them, they won’t bother us.”

“That’s enough, Erin. We’re going.”

“The treasure could still be down there. I just want to look—”

“Not now! If you want to see what’s down there, come back with Sky—”

“Did I hear my name mentioned?”

Sky had just come up the trail from the lower canyon. As he stepped into the clearing, Lauren’s first impulse was to fling herself into his arms. But it was Erin who needed attention.

“What’s going on?” As always, Sky was a man of few words.

“We found this secret cave!” Erin spoke up, talking fast. “There’s a hole in the back, and I think the treasure might be down there, but Lauren won’t let me look.”

“For heaven’s sake, Erin, it’s a rattlesnake den!” Lauren said.

“What would you say to me taking a look?” Sky asked. “Don’t worry, I know about snakes. I’ll be careful.”

Lauren remembered him telling her how Will had been bitten on the thigh by a Texas diamondback last spring and nearly died. “I wish you wouldn’t,” she said, knowing that Sky would do what he wanted.

He squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. All right, Erin?”

“All right,” Erin said, stepping aside for him. “But promise you’ll tell me what you find.”

“I promise.” He pulled leather gloves from the pockets of his thick denim jacket and tugged them on. Erin handed him the flashlight. He frowned at the cheap dime-store item. “Don’t you have anything stronger?”

“This was all we could find,” Lauren said. “We didn’t plan on needing it.”

“Guess it’ll have to do.” He glanced around, picked up a stout piece of a broken branch, and, turning on the flashlight, ducked under the low ceiling of the cave.

Lauren kept her eyes on him. Sky had lived all his adult life on the Rimrock. Surely, he’d be experienced with snakes. But terror gripped her as he dropped to a crouch beside the hole and shone the light down into the opening. For a moment he moved the light around, probably making sure there were no snakes close enough to strike. Then he bent forward, peering into the darkness as if straining to see by the poor light. Lauren’s heart crept into her throat as he lingered, looking down for what seemed like an eternity. At last he rose partway and, ducking to clear his