The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,61
one else ever had—fires that burned well after the lovemaking ended. Was that why the look in his eyes this morning had made her ache so much?
She sat down in front of the camp grill, where Dustin had started a pot of coffee. “Good morning.”
Flintrop sat beside her. “Are you doing okay?”
“I will be, as long as people stop asking me how I am.” She accepted a cup of coffee from Dustin when it finished brewing.
“You know what happened to Cameron isn’t your fault, Sara. I made the decision to stay, too.”
“I know.”
Becky emerged from her tent wrapped in a blanket, looking pale. She sat on the other side of the grill, avoiding eye contact.
Flintrop cleared his throat. “Becky? Do you need to talk?”
The woman shook her head. Her gaze flicked everywhere but at them.
“You sure?” Flintrop prompted.
Sara ducked into her coffee mug until her hair swung forward to hide her face, then let loose her telepathy. Becky flushed red and murmured something about not feeling well, but Sara caught a fragment of her thoughts:
What was I thinking? I can’t take that thing. I don’t want to do this.
Startled, Sara blinked and raised her head. Not good. She took a huge gulp of coffee, then choked on it as it scalded its way down her throat.
Flintrop pounded her on the back. She waved him off. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“Between you choking on breakfast, Becky not feeling well, and Lamb leaving, I think we’re going to be on light duty today,” he muttered.
“I said I’m fine. We’ll keep working.”
He flashed a brief smile. “I remember when we were in Iceland, and you got the flu. You still wouldn’t stop working. Do you ever quit?”
“There’s a lot to be said for persistence,” she told him, half listening, and half furtively studying Becky, who stayed silent.
“That’s very true,” Flintrop said softly.
Sara gave him a wary look and ducked into her coffee again. Right now, there just wasn’t enough room in her head and heart to sort out what to do with that.
Faith exited her tent and started across the moor. Sara heaved an inward sigh of relief. She caught her sister’s gaze, and Faith gave an inconspicuous shake of her head. No further contact with Hakon, then. Sara downed the rest of her coffee, then poured herself another.
Hard work helped turn her thoughts from Cameron’s death, and Becky’s unwitting admission of attempted theft. She threw herself into the labor, clearing her plot faster than any she’d done since arriving there. Still, each hour ticked by as though it were an eon. While she worked, she stole looks up the slope of the island toward Ian’s camp, wondering if he was thinking of her. All of her crew’s expressions of concern for her last night had not gone nearly as far as his silent embrace while she broke to pieces in her tent. Had he known that she needed, for once, to feel like she wasn’t alone?
When midday break rolled around, Dustin called them to lunch. She didn’t realize she hadn’t moved until Faith grabbed her elbow. Sara jerked back to the present.
Faith waited until the crew had moved off in search of food. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I... Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. Is Ian all right? You’ve been staring up there all morning.”
Sara felt her cheeks burn and blurted, “What’s with this ghost of yours? Did you talk to him?”
Her sister raised a slender brow.
“Never mind,” muttered Sara. “Becky did try to steal the amulet.”
“Are you two eating, or not?” called Thomas.
“We’ll talk later. At the inlet,” Faith murmured.
Sara nodded understanding, and they went to join the others.
****
Sara waded into the inlet up to the bottom of her shorts. The cool water washed around her legs, a relief after the sweat and toil of the dig site. She sank to her neck with a grateful sigh.
Faith splashed in beside her. “Now that we have ten seconds where no one’s hovering, can I quietly panic about this Becky thing?”
Sara followed her sister into the inlet until they were both waist-deep. “I heard her thinking this morning. She said, ‘I can’t take that thing,’ which pretty much tells me she was planning on stealing the amulet when she snuck into my tent.”
“It can’t just be her, acting alone,” Faith said. “She couldn’t steal a paper clip.”
“Faith, we can’t stay here for three weeks. I feel like a sitting duck. Even if I go to Mainland and have it dismantled, what are we going to do