A Bean, a Pea, and a Mammoth Tusk

By Eve Dew Crook

On a middle school nature hike, Principal Stephen Lathrop, a marathon runner, unearths a twelve-thousand-year-old mammoth tusk. The startling discovery stirs a commotion in Willow Springs, Vermont. The media arrive in trucks; tourists descend by the busload. To curb the chaos, the sheriff hires rookie deputy, Megan Snow.

Stephen and Megan meet and sparks fly. Soon the odd couple is hunting for lost children, chasing thieves, dealing with pot-smoking teens. Ignoring the clamor, the historic Deerbourne Inn plans a Twelfth Night feast and festival, featuring the search for the bean and the pea, and culminating in the crowning of a King and Queen of Mischief.

Up in arms at the loss of their peaceful existence, the villagers take sides—science or heritage? Mischief indeed! Is this the time to plan a wedding?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Jul 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781509226870

Eve Dew Crook

I've bounced from East Coast to West Coast with many stops in between, now live in Arizona with my artist husband. Not into sports, though I used to play a mean game of pingpong. Love to travel, read, write, walk with a book on my I-phone while I gaze at the scenery, attend concerts and watch lots of movies. Like to pal around with friends, especially writers and readers, and look forward to hearing from readers of my books. You can find out more about me at http://evedewcrook or e-mail me at [e-mail]. Oh, yes, I also like to write poems. Here's "The Song of the Lovesick Siren." I love you, I love you, I love you so madly, If I tried to tell you I'd do it so badly. I love you for will be, for was and for is, If I were a soda, I'd give you my fizz. I love how you think, and I love how you feel, I love you for promise, I love you for real. I love you for touching, I find you enticing, If I were a cupcake, you'd lick off my icing. I love you for dreaming, for taking and giving, I love what you put into warm-blooded living. I love you completely, I'm out of control. If I were a doughnut, I'd give you my whole. ? --Eve Dew Crook Author: Taking the Tumble Peril, Passion, Peru

Book preview

Inc.

I’m here to confess. Stephen Lathrop’s soft voice floated across her desk in the sheriff’s office.

Startled, Megan looked up. She took a deep breath, smiled. What are you admitting to?

A desire to find out if you’re free next Sunday.

But…you know I’ll be back in Middlebury.

Doesn’t matter. I’ll pick you up there.

It’s nice of you to offer… She sighed. I usually work weekends, Stephen. Now that school is back in session, I’m afraid our schedules don’t mesh.

Too bad. He pretended to pout, but she could tell he hadn’t given up. After a second’s pause, Stephen tried again. Well, how about some evening? Dinner and a movie? Kings and queens do have to keep up appearances, you know. He sounded sincere, but he couldn’t hang onto his earnest pose for long. Megan watched it disintegrate into chuckles.

Of course, I wouldn’t want to disappoint the town… Her lashes fluttered. But seriously, some nights I work. Other times, Ma isn’t feeling well… She let the words hang. I can’t leave her alone then, and I’d hate to make a date and have to break it, especially when you’ve come so far.

Tell you what. He sat down on the corner of her desk, leaned over and wheedled. Suppose we plan a night out, but if you have to stay home, I’ll come over and bring carry-out.

Praise for Eve Dew Crook

"A seductive charmer [TAKING THE TUMBLE, published by The Wild Rose Press, Inc.] with a tantalizing blend of suspense and passion."

~Bonnie Papenfuss, Green Valley News and Sun

~*~

A light-hearted romance.

~J.C. Martin, Arizona Daily Star

~*~

"Once again Eve Dew Crook [PERIL, PASSION, PERU, published by The Wild Rose Press] uses her masterful skills with dialog to grip the reader and keep the romantic suspense sizzling."

~Bonnie Papenfuss, Green Valley News and Sun

A Bean, a Pea, and

a Mammoth Tusk

by

Eve Dew Crook

Deerbourne Inn

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

A Bean, a Pea, and a Mammoth Tusk

COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Eve Dew Crook

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Diana Carlile

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Sweetheart Rose Edition, 2019

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2687-0

Deerbourne Inn

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To the two extremely talented men in my life: husband/artist/cartoonist Ken Crook and son/photographer/author Randy Juster.

~

Special thanks and hugs to another talented, discerning author and dear friend, Marilyn Johnson.

~

And kisses blown to even more talent—the helpful, friendly, perceptive editors and publishers

at The Wild Rose Press.

Chapter 1

How could a discovery so fantastic turn into a disaster? Frowning, Stephen Lathrop shook his head. If anyone had hinted his miraculous find came with unpleasant repercussions, he would have scoffed at the idea. Even more astonishing, and this time he raised his gaze to the ceiling, the popular middle school principal had become the one to blame.

Moving out of the wintry light slanting through the venetian blinds, he sank heavily into the tan leather recliner his ex-wife had chosen. He had much to think about. The sleepy, contented village of Willow Springs, Vermont—all three thousand and four residents—had reacted with glee when he’d dug up the mammoth tusk.

Fabulous!

Incredible!

Hard to believe, an Ice Age relic discovered right here in the Green Mountain National Forest!

As the town wallowed in its moment of fame, he felt the glow of satisfaction.

Excitement buzzed from mouth to mouth. Everyone heard, but not everyone believed in the tusk’s authenticity. Some trusted science. Others called the discovery a hoax and accused practical jokers, doped-up kids, aging hippies—even little green men from outer space. Despite his uneasiness about the uproar, the principal laughed. How any group could have buried a nine-foot long, hundred-pound chunk of ivory without being seen or heard was an unanswered question. Stephen doubted it had even been asked.

To be fair, and he made a point of always being fair, months passed while the tusk was excavated, weighed, and measured. The arguments grew louder, true, but that was good, wasn’t it? Debate was healthy. He still wasn’t clear why his find suddenly turned divisive. Although he’d been living here for ten years, it was plain Stephen had more to learn about life in small towns.

He shook his head, and a strand of thick brown hair fell onto his forehead, scratching at his right eye. Dismissing his fleeting awareness of needing a haircut, the principal walked to the sideboard and opened a bottle of scotch. No one was around to nag him. Pouring an inch of the whiskey into his tumbler, he sipped slowly, determined to stick to his Fit for Forty program. Though his life had changed, he wouldn’t neglect his daily workout. It was important to be fit and ready to run.

As the smooth whiskey trickled down his throat, the pleasure building, he recalled the nature hike, six months ago, when he and two of his eighth-grade students had uncovered the ancient mammoth tusk in the woods. The wonder of it!

They’d all been thrilled…perhaps Stephen most of all. Why, it was even better than winning the marathon. He would bring home another trophy one of these days, but finding what turned out to be a twelve-thousand-year-old ivory tusk left by an animal that no longer existed—well, that was unique. Truly a once in a lifetime experience.

The lock of hair misbehaved again, tickling as it slid toward his eyebrow. He blew it upward, then ignored it, glad to be alone. Enjoying the whiskey’s mild burn, Stephen let his thoughts drift back to the big moment.

That Friday had been bright and sunny, the March air crisp. Breathing it reminded him of the sweet-sour crunch of biting into a green apple, plucked right from the tree. He’d taken over the science class the day before, offered to head the nature hike as a favor to the newbie science teacher. Bonus points for him, a day off for the teacher, and a chance to be outdoors—win-win.

Satisfying as it was to be the boss, he sometimes missed the contact with fresh young minds, missed being a teacher…but only sometimes. Stephen grinned as he acknowledged it, picturing soccer wins and broken lockers, A-papers to grade and PTA meetings to endure. Good days and the pits, like life itself.

The morning before the hike had been ordinary. Let’s take our minds back twelve thousand years, he told the class, describing the scene with gusto. "The Ice Age is ending. The air becomes warmer. Streams are no longer dammed by ice, so they fill up again. Rivulets turn into streams, streams into rivers. Lakes form, some of them quite big. Water rushes everywhere.

Imagine it…

He paused, enjoying a bit of drama. Then the land begins to dry. As the last glacier recedes, the rocks it picked up along the way remain behind. Once in a while, they show up in central Vermont. Tomorrow, I’ll bet, someone in this class will find one.

The bet had been a joke, an attempt to build enthusiasm for the nature hike, but the next day it came fantastically true. As the class galumphed along, birdcalls mixing with the plopping sound of boots yanked from the mud, Stephen overheard a favorite student, Heather Hyatt, mutter something about acing her science project. She sniffed the air and said, This is the day. It smells right.

Indeed, it had. Heather’s nose picked up the scent, or more likely, not her nose but the keen eyes of youth. She twirled in her muddy boots when she spotted the odd rock sticking out of a melting snowbank. The hillock of ice, hidden by a tight cluster of fir trees, was suddenly exposed. She’d been lucky to stand in just the right spot when a sunbeam darted through the tiny opening in the dense woods.

Hey, guys, come back! she’d hollered, waving madly. Stephen watched as her classmate, Jeremy Noel, came running so fast he skidded into her, his glasses falling off to dangle from one ear. He’d used his cell phone to snap the picture they made. What a great shot—it landed on page one of the Willow Springs Gazette.

Yup, it had been all joy then. With hammer and ice pick, the students had dug around the object until enough was exposed to examine it up close. He’d splashed it with water, cleaned off the pine needles and gooey debris with a chamois cloth. The kids knelt beside him, Heather biting her lip, Jeremy squinting. As Stephen worked, the noise of the other students faded. No one breathed. Even the bird calls were silent as he rubbed and rubbed at a spot until he felt ivory beneath his fingers. A shiver ran down his spine.

Turning to Heather and Jeremy, Stephen blinked. And blinked twice more. Funny how he remembered that. Gang, he said, his voice rising from a whisper to a shout, I suspect we’ve uncovered parts of an extinct animal. Standing up, he grabbed their hands, broke into a wide smile. This looks and feels…yup…very much like an Ice Age mammoth tusk! That was the moment he learned how to do the happy dance.

Tapping his feet as he remembered, Stephen smiled.

They’d reported their find to Mayor Russ Pomeroy as soon as they left the woods. The entire