Tessa nodded. Austenaco Blackstone wouldn’t have insisted he see the artifact right away if it weren’t a fascinating find. “What should we do?”
“What doyouwant to do?”
“I want to know what the spear says,” Tessa said.
Paul nodded. “Me too. Let’s hear what Greywolf has to say, and then you can make a decision.”
Tessa’s brow winkled. “Greywolf?”
“He looks like the ridiculously handsome Native American on the front cover of the novel you’re reading. You were giving him dreamy eyes.”
Tessa snorted. “I was not.”
“Weren’t you?” Paul eyed her. “He might take you home if you ask him nicely.”
“Stop it,” she whispered as the front door opened again.
Austen held a rolled-up piece of brown leather tied with a thin leather band. He placed the spear on the kitchen floor and unrolled a rectangular tool kit full of pockets that held brushes of differing sizes and a couple of items that looked like tiny picks meant for loosening rocks or debris.
While she and Paul watched, Austen worked on the spear in silence, brushing away the caked mud. Eventually the carvings were completely revealed. “I had my suspicions,” he said, “but I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t uncovered the entire carving.” He stood and stretched his legs.
Tessa had been rereading parts of the romance novel on the couch, but she closed it and walked over. Austen towered over her in the kitchen.
“This spear has a Cherokee prayer for protection engraved on it,” Austen explained. “I’ve never seen one before. I know the prayer, and I’ve heard talk of this type of engraving having been done before. These objects were usually passed down through families and kept for generations. It’s unusual that it wouldn’t have been kept with the family.”
“Maybe it was lost. Or left behind,” Tessa said, her skin prickling with goose bumps.
“Maybe,” Austen said. “Where did you find this?”
Tessa glanced toward Paul before answering. “Beneath a historic home in town.”
“Interesting. And you are remodeling and found it?”
“Eh, not exactly remodeling, but working on the porch. It was buried beneath the front of the house.” Tessa avoided Paul’s gaze, but she felt him staring at her.
“The piece of wood is in remarkable condition. On one hand, I know it’s old. On the other hand, it shows no sign of being affected by the elements. It’s as though it’s been perfectly preserved in the ground and kept protected from animals and time.”
Tessa’s stomach knotted, and the tingling spread to her fingers. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Maybe the protection prayer worked,” she said with a small laugh.
Austen looked at her with his dark eyes and tilted his head before one corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “And you believe in Cherokee protection prayers, do you?”
“Do you?”
Austen’s expression was noncommittal. “I’m a researcher, Ms. Andrews. I believe in proof. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to allow me to study the spear. I assume you know that what you have here is unique, and the probability that it’s valuable is quite high. As a researcher, I’d like a day or two to see if there have been any other similar findings that I’m not aware of before you inform anyone about the spear.”
Tessa’s brow wrinkled. She looked at Paul, wondering if he understood Austen’s meaning.Who amIgoing to tell? Who even cares about a wooden spear?
Paul stepped up beside Tessa. “He’s saying that the owner of this spear could probably sell it for a good chunk of money based on its rareness alone. But he’d like for you to wait and see what he discovers.” He looked at Austen. “If there are others to compare it to, you might be able to guesstimate an age for the spear?”
“I know it’s at last two hundred years old because that’s about the time the Cherokee language began being written down. But the physical spear could be much older.”
Paul nodded. “You’ll most likely try and convince the owner to put it in a museum. Am I right?”
“I don’t support the sale of antiquities, especially not to people who hide them from the world,” Austen said. He focused on Tessa, and the kitchen lights flickered. “I prefer it be returned to the Cherokee Nation.”
She nodded. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
Austen’s gaze softened. He removed the latex gloves and dropped them into the trash can. “I’ll be in touch. While I’m in town, I’m going to visit a family friend. She’d like to know about this, and if anyone knows why a prayer was carved on a spear, she will. Her family has lived around here for years. There’s a good chance she knows which families used to live on this land. Her records date back hundreds of years. She lives at the end of Juniper Lane, near the river.”
