The Second Messiah

“Do you know what became of her?”

“It was a long time ago, Yasmin. But the last I heard she was a cop, like her father, though they’re long gone from the settlement.”

“I heard you went to visit the place where your parents died. Is that what got you thinking about the past?”

“Probably.”

Yasmin put down her beer, touched his arm a moment. “Your friend Buddy’s always spoken very highly of your parents. And my uncle Donald does too. You must miss them?”

“There were only the three of us. I guess we were extremely close.”

Yasmin bit her lip and her lipstick glistened. “I saw you come up here and thought I’d join you. I hope you don’t mind. Or maybe I’m intruding on your thoughts?”

Mind? The sight of her only added to Jack’s elation. He could smell her subtle perfume. He glanced at her exquisite skin, golden in the dawn light. She was one of the few women on the dig who bothered with her appearance. Two of the females on the excavation were Orthodox Jews and wore long, modest dresses while digging.

The other women, students and college grads of various nationalities, none of them afraid of wielding a shovel, forgot about makeup and wore loose clothes and scruffy old work boots. But somehow Yasmin always managed to look good even after they had spent the day cave-crawling and scooping dirt out with gufas, homemade rubber buckets made out of half tires. She was a magnet for men’s attention.

Jack said, “To tell the truth, I’m glad to have the company.”

“Has Donald finally gone to bed?”

“I hope so. But he was still up when I left him.”

Yasmin smiled, put a hand out, and touched his arm. “You must be thrilled. Donald said that for centuries archaeologists have been searching for concrete proof of Christ’s life, with no success. He said that’s why Christians placed great significance on things like the Turin Shroud and relics from the cross. But he’s got a gut feeling that the scroll may turn out to be a groundbreaking historical document. How do you feel?”

Jack was aware that her hand lingered on his arm. “As if all my lottery numbers have come up.”

Yasmin reached into her pocket, took out a wristband made of leather and polished steel, holding it in her palm. “I hope this doesn’t seem too juvenile, but this is for you.”

“What is it?”

“Something silly I bought in a Jerusalem market. They inscribe them to order. Read what it says.”

In the dawn light, Jack could just make out the wristband’s indented letters: ARCHAEOLOGY ROCKS. He put down his beer, slipped the band on his wrist, and smiled. “It’ll remind me of you. Thanks, Yasmin.”

She patted his arm playfully. “Hey, I’m not playing the dig groupie just because you’re the man of the moment. But I wanted to say that I think you deserve whatever fame and lecture tours come your way after this.” She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “I really mean that. You work so hard.”

Jack put a hand to his face, felt the ghost of her lips. “Now I really do feel like I’ve won the lottery.”

Yasmin giggled and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Jack thought, She’s over ten years younger than me. Or does it really matter? He wanted her to kiss him again and knew it wasn’t just the alcohol. There had been women over the years, some that mattered, and some that didn’t. None of them yet the right one. He didn’t honestly know if Yasmin Green could ever be that, but he had been a long time without female company, and he hungered for the softness of a woman’s touch. But then a thought struck him.

“You’ve gone very quiet. Are you okay?” Yasmin asked.

“Did Buddy Savage put you up to this? The dawn visit. The kiss.”

“Buddy? Why on earth would you say that?”

“He’s a prankster. Sometimes he’ll dare people to do things for a joke. Once in a Mexican bar during a Mayan dig he got me drunk and tried to shave off my eyebrows.”

She laughed. “You and Buddy are close?”

“At times he sounds like he’s my old man. That’s when I call him Pops.”

She reached out and took his hand between her palms. Then she bit her lip and said quietly, “No one put me up to it, Jack. I can prove it.”

She leaned in close and kissed him on the mouth. Jack felt the sensual press of her lips. His pulse raced, and then Yasmin drew away, smiling. “Convinced now? I like you, Jack Cane. If that’s okay with you.”

“Can I be honest? I sensed something between us in your uncle’s tent. When I left, I was hoping you’d still be awake, that we’d meet and talk. But Donald seems a little overprotective.”

Yasmin traced a finger across his lips, kissed his mouth softly, her voice husky. “Who cares about Donald?” Yasmin picked up the Heineken cans, stood, and winked at him. “You’ve made a tired girl very happy, Mr. Cane. But it’s time we both slept.”

Jack rose to his feet. “Will you tuck me in, or is that asking too much on a first date?”

“You just never know your luck. Watch your step on the way down.”