need a little more money.”
“Damn expensive lemons.” Resigned, Del took what he’d given her, added more bills.
She helped him load the bags into the truck, then sat with her hands folded in her lap. She’d overreacted to the tabloid, she told herself. Still her initial spurt of anger had been liberating. Regardless, she’d recovered well, and a lot more quickly than she might have done just a week or two before.
That meant she was stronger, steadier. Didn’t that serve to prove she was doing the right thing?
Now it was time to put that issue away again, and deal with the moment.
“I’m sorry I took so long, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to see something of the town.”
“Your car should be ready tomorrow. Maybe the next day seeing as Carl’s claiming to be backed-up and overworked. Next time you want to play tourist, do it on your own time.”
“Be sure I will. Sarah Lattimer at the antique store said to give you her best. I wonder that anyone so well-spoken and courteous could have ever gone out with you.”
“She was young and stupid at the time.”
“How fortunate for her that she matured and wised-up.”
“You got that right.” He caught her soft chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s hard to insult you when you agree with me.” It was hard to brood about a silly photograph in a trashy newspaper when he was so much more interesting. “I like you.”
“That makes you young and stupid, doesn’t it?”
She grinned, then amused at both of them leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Apparently.”
Chapter 6
I
’
m having the most wonderful time. It wasn’t the plan to stay in one place so long, or to do one thing for any length of time. But it’s such a beautiful place, and such an exciting thing to do.
Archaeology is truly fascinating. So much more interesting and layered to me than the history I enjoyed and was taught in school, or the sociology classes I took. More fascinating, I find, than anything I’ve studied or explored.
Who, where and why? How people lived, married, raised their children, treated their elderly. What they ate, how they cooked it. Their ceremonies and rituals. Oh, so much more. And all of it, society after society, tribe by tribe speaks, doesn’t it, to our own?
He knows so much, and so much of what he knows is almost casual to him, in the way a true scholar can be. Not that knowledge itself is casual to him. He seeks it every day. He wants to know.
I find that passion admirable, enviable. And I find it alluring.
I’m attracted to his mind, to all those complex angles. Working with
—
all right, for
—
him is hard and demanding, sometimes physically exhausting. Despite his injuries, the man has astounding stamina. It’s impressive the way he can lose himself, hours at a go, in his work.
It’s also an absolute thrill for me to do so as well. I’ve studied bone fragments that are centuries old. Sealed, of course, in plastic.
I wonder how they might feel in my hands. If anyone had told me I’d actually
want
to handle human bones, even two weeks ago, I’d have thought them mad.
How I wish I could go to the dig
—
or wet archaeological site
—
and actually see the work being done there. Though Delaney paints a very clear picture when he speaks of it, it’s not the same as seeing it for myself.
This is something I want to see, and do, for myself. I intend to look into classes, and what Delaney somewhat disdainfully refers to as knap-ins (a kind of camping session on sites for amateurs and students) when I’m home again.
I believe I’ve found an avocation that could become a vocation.
On a personal level, he’s not as annoyed by me as he pretends to me. At least not half the time. It’s odd and very educational to have someone treat me as he would anyone else
—
without that filter of manners and respect demanded by rank. Not that I appreciate rudeness, of course, but once you get to know the man, you can see
“Damn expensive lemons.” Resigned, Del took what he’d given her, added more bills.
She helped him load the bags into the truck, then sat with her hands folded in her lap. She’d overreacted to the tabloid, she told herself. Still her initial spurt of anger had been liberating. Regardless, she’d recovered well, and a lot more quickly than she might have done just a week or two before.
That meant she was stronger, steadier. Didn’t that serve to prove she was doing the right thing?
Now it was time to put that issue away again, and deal with the moment.
“I’m sorry I took so long, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to see something of the town.”
“Your car should be ready tomorrow. Maybe the next day seeing as Carl’s claiming to be backed-up and overworked. Next time you want to play tourist, do it on your own time.”
“Be sure I will. Sarah Lattimer at the antique store said to give you her best. I wonder that anyone so well-spoken and courteous could have ever gone out with you.”
“She was young and stupid at the time.”
“How fortunate for her that she matured and wised-up.”
“You got that right.” He caught her soft chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s hard to insult you when you agree with me.” It was hard to brood about a silly photograph in a trashy newspaper when he was so much more interesting. “I like you.”
“That makes you young and stupid, doesn’t it?”
She grinned, then amused at both of them leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Apparently.”
Chapter 6
I
’
m having the most wonderful time. It wasn’t the plan to stay in one place so long, or to do one thing for any length of time. But it’s such a beautiful place, and such an exciting thing to do.
Archaeology is truly fascinating. So much more interesting and layered to me than the history I enjoyed and was taught in school, or the sociology classes I took. More fascinating, I find, than anything I’ve studied or explored.
Who, where and why? How people lived, married, raised their children, treated their elderly. What they ate, how they cooked it. Their ceremonies and rituals. Oh, so much more. And all of it, society after society, tribe by tribe speaks, doesn’t it, to our own?
He knows so much, and so much of what he knows is almost casual to him, in the way a true scholar can be. Not that knowledge itself is casual to him. He seeks it every day. He wants to know.
I find that passion admirable, enviable. And I find it alluring.
I’m attracted to his mind, to all those complex angles. Working with
—
all right, for
—
him is hard and demanding, sometimes physically exhausting. Despite his injuries, the man has astounding stamina. It’s impressive the way he can lose himself, hours at a go, in his work.
It’s also an absolute thrill for me to do so as well. I’ve studied bone fragments that are centuries old. Sealed, of course, in plastic.
I wonder how they might feel in my hands. If anyone had told me I’d actually
want
to handle human bones, even two weeks ago, I’d have thought them mad.
How I wish I could go to the dig
—
or wet archaeological site
—
and actually see the work being done there. Though Delaney paints a very clear picture when he speaks of it, it’s not the same as seeing it for myself.
This is something I want to see, and do, for myself. I intend to look into classes, and what Delaney somewhat disdainfully refers to as knap-ins (a kind of camping session on sites for amateurs and students) when I’m home again.
I believe I’ve found an avocation that could become a vocation.
On a personal level, he’s not as annoyed by me as he pretends to me. At least not half the time. It’s odd and very educational to have someone treat me as he would anyone else
—
without that filter of manners and respect demanded by rank. Not that I appreciate rudeness, of course, but once you get to know the man, you can see
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