CHAPTER 11

“Woolen underwear?” Dana looked at Caroline as if she’d lost her the last brain cell. “He compliments you, and you compare it to wearing woolen underwear?”

Just as mortified by her idiotic response the night before, Caroline focused on the heavy quartz wares spread on a faded woolen blanket in the morning sun. Beyond the thrown-together market of plywood on sawhorse tables and spread blankets on the ground sprawled the remains of Teotihuacan, the ancient city of the Aztec Empire that attracted both sellers and tourists. The moment the Edenton group disembarked from the bus, they’d been surrounded by Mexicanos of all ages hawking their wares— jewelry, dishes, simple musical instruments, woven items.

“You like thees? ” Smiling from under the brim of her straw hat, a woman with leathery skin and graying black hair pointed to a dish about ten inches square, made of the pink marble similar to that of the Bellas Artes theater. “Or thees one?” Her eyes were as dark as the obsidian ash she pointed to.

“Honey, he is definitely interested. He can’t take his eyes off you.” Dana reached past Caroline. “I like the first dish better.”

Picking up a similar one, she examined it. “I just can’t fathom what I’d use it for.”

“I’m thinking a jewelry dish. It’d go perfectly with my bedroom.”

“So would a husband.”

“Thees one,” the vendor decided, taking up the one Caroline originally admired. “I will wrap it for you, no?”

“How much?” she asked.

“Twenty dollars.”

“Offer her fifteen,” Dana whispered aside. “They always start high.”

Caroline glanced at the ragged-clothed children playing behind the woman. Okay, so I’m a sucker, she thought, digging into her hip purse. But this lady looked like she needed every penny to feed and clothe her family. Caroline would skip dessert tonight to make up for the extra five bucks she was probably overpaying.

“Do you have a bag?” Caroline asked, handing her a twenty-dollar bill.

“Muchas gracias, señora,” the vendor replied as a doll-like little girl peeked out at them from the folds of her mother’s voluminous skirt. “Uno momento, niña.

”

“I don’t blame you,” Dana said, sighing in resignation as the woman produced a used plastic grocery bag from a stash under the table. “But that reinforces my point.”

“What point?”

“Your heart is too big to ignore that poor man,” Dana told her.

“God knows he needs a wife and Karen needs a mom. She adores you. Everyone is saying how you four would make an ideal family.

Maybe his mom’s accident was no accident. Maybe God has His hand in this.”

“Everyone?” Great, now it was more than her friend looking for cartoon hearts fluttering out from under her eyelashes. It was everyone. “What, do I look that needy? As for God, a man hasn’t been on my prayer list for years.”

Although yesterday at the cathedral, Caroline had felt father and daughter’s pain, guilt, and frustration. They’d been drawn into the oneness of the Spirit, closer than she’d ever been with Frank. Could it be—?

Nah. Caroline took the bag with her newspaper-wrapped dish.

Its weight took her by surprise.

“Whoa! I should have waited until I was on my way out to get this.” The thought of hauling her purchase to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun made her arm ache.

“Maybe someone else was praying . . . like your daughter.”

Caroline cut a sharp glance at her friend. “Ooh, that was a low blow. Just for that, you can hold my two-ton jewelry dish while I climb the Pyramid of the Sun.”

“I’ll bet Blaine will hold it for you.”

Caroline rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation. “Give it a rest, Dana.” Easier said than done, Caroline realized as she tried to dismiss the idea of Annie wanting a father. It was easier for Caroline to ignore her own wants or needs than those of her daughter.

“Okay, amigos y amigas,” Hector called from his perch on a large flat stone nearby. “Let’s went!”

Gradually the group reassembled around the fan-waving tour guide. Ahead of them the ruins reminded Caroline of a monumental ghost town of stone and dust, maybe a high-altitude Egypt with mountains surrounding it instead of great sand dunes.

Cutting a north-south swath between the pyramids of assorted size was a wide road that Hector identified as the Avenue of the Dead.

“It’s dead all right,” Wally quipped, wrinkling his nose to raise his glasses as he studied the giant pyramid dwarfing the others.

“Not a car in sight. Just old stone.”

Kurt gave his buddy the elbow. “You’re a real riot, Einstein.”

Unfazed, Wally pointed at the largest structure in sight. “That the sun pyramid?”

Hector nodded. “And I promise, all of you kiddies will have plenty of time to climb it, if you wish. But first, we must do our homework.”

“All the kiddies and one slightly romance-impaired adult,”

Dana mumbled in Caroline’s ear.

“You going to climb?” Blaine asked, coming up on Caroline’s blind side.

“Why not?” Caroline wished the sand would open up and one of those giant worms from the sci-fi channel would put an end to her misery. Or maybe Blaine hadn’t heard Dana’s comment.

Dana peered around her. “I guess when you work with kids all day, you never grow up.”

Caroline wanted the worm to take Dana too.

“Once a kid, always a kid, eh?”

Blaine’s wink knocked the temperature of the sun on her face up a few degrees. Or maybe she’d just melt away from humiliation.

“Come on, I want to hear what Hector’s saying,” Caroline announced, taking off as though someone had fired a starting pistol.

“Over two millenia ago, the Toltec peoples reigned supreme.

Around AD 750 the city was ravaged by fire in some sort of rebellion,” Hector informed his energy-overdosed audience. “It continued to be used for ceremonial purposes as the alleged birthplace of the gods.”

“I thought you called the ancient Indians Aztecs,” Randy said.

“The Aztecs were made up of many ethnic groups. Among them all were healers and artists, kind of like the professionals of today— doctors, lawyers . . .”

“Like Indian druids, Dad,” Kurt ventured. “Right, Hector?”

Hector’s forehead knitted, his dark eyebrows almost touching.

“I don’t know much about your druids. All I know is that the Indian peoples were divided around AD 750 in a clash of good and evil. The good went south, following the Path of Freedom, while the others migrated north toward Tula, today’s Hidalgo area. They were thought to have black magic.”

“Now, that is interesting,” Ron Butler spoke up. “The coming of Christianity to Ireland divided the druids in a similar way.” He glanced at Randy. “You suppose there is something to the idea of Irish monks like St. Brendan making it over here with the Word?”

“Faith and begorra,” Randy teased in his best Irish brogue.

“Next thing you know, you Irish will be wantin’ to paint the pyramids green.”

“It’s still amazing,” Caroline mused aloud as they moved on through the ancient ruins.

“What’s that?” Blaine asked.

The man didn’t have ears. He had radar. And Dana had somehow disappeared—not an accident, if Caroline knew her matchmaking friend. “How ancient man could build something so complex . . . so huge.”

“I went to school for years to learn the formulas and physics behind such projects, and some still mystify me. It all originated from the study of the preexisting earth and stars.”

“God isn’t called the Great Architect for nothing.” Caroline stopped with the group to study an early painting of a jungle cat recessed in the rock of some catacombs.

“I don’t know that I’d confuse science with religion,” Blaine cautioned.

“Oh, no,” Annie broke in, groaning as she stared at the wall painting— another mural. “Don’t tell me that Diego guy was here, too!”

The atmosphere of awe and wonder Hector had created with his dialogue regarding the Aztec past dissolved in laughter throughout the group. It did seem as if wherever one turned, there was a Rivera painting.

“Someone has her mother’s sense of humor,” Blaine whispered to Caroline.

“No, Annie,” their good-natured guide assured the teen. “Diego Rivera painted everywhere else, but he did not make it to Teotihuacan.” Hector went on to explain how the durable dyes the Indians used in the paint on the ancient picture became a major industry after the obsidian gave out.

While he was talking, Blaine took the heavy bag off Caroline’s arm, where the handles had cut a little red ridge on her wrist. “You didn’t buy one of those pyramids, did you?”

“Thanks, it’s a jewelry dish.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I should have bought it on the way out. You really don’t have to play the pack mule. I’m used to the role.”

“Not while I’m around.”

She picked up the conversation they’d been having when Annie interrupted. “I’m not confusing science with religion,” she said. “I think they complement each other.”

Blaine cut her a sideways glance. “Oh?”

What on earth do you think you are doing, debating someone like Blaine Madison? a voice demanded from within. He was a big wheel in an engineering firm, and she was a big wheel in alphabet and diapers. Caroline could champion her faith, but could she defend it on his level?

Well, Lord, I’ve jumped in, so I guess I have to swim. Feel free to toss me a life jacket anytime.

“The way I see it, God created heaven and earth. That’s faith,” she said with confidence. “And man has spent his lifetime trying to figure out how creation works. That’s science.”

“I never thought of it in quite that way,” Blaine said, as though he considered her words to at least merit thought.

Maybe she should just shut up while she was still ahead and fall in behind the others. But she hadn’t quite reached the shore of her conviction.

“Just think—” Caroline spread lifted hands up as if to envelop the heavens. “When He created the heavens and hung the stars, He gave ignorant man the first calendar-clock to measure time and know when food would grow and when to put food away to survive winter.” She tapped the bag her companion held in his arms.

“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.