The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,47
struggling to stuff what she knew of Flintrop back into its neat little box. She met her sister’s gaze, and even Faith looked shocked.
Faith shook out of it. “Leopard. Spots. I’m not convinced.”
Sara grinned.
In the end, none of the crew wanted to leave the project in light of the found skull. That meant the project could continue at its present speed. Over the remainder of lunch, Sara decided she owed Flintrop a long-overdue apology. On the heels of that revelation came a good excuse for seeing Ian. Relieved that she’d found a point even Lamb couldn’t argue, she packed up her mess kit, then marched to Flintrop’s tent.
The door hung open. She ventured a look inside. He stood over his cot, stuffing a few articles into a duffel bag. She cleared her throat.
He turned. “Sara?”
“Yeah. I, er... Well, first, I wanted to thank you. Not just for staying with the project. For, you know, grabbing me before I fell into the...” She trailed off, wishing she’d thought more on how to apologize before coming to apologize.
A grin creased his handsome face. “You’re welcome.”
Awkward moments passed. She hovered in the doorway, trying to decide how to proceed.
“Did you need something?” he added.
She flushed. “I just figured that since you were going to Unst this afternoon... If you still are—” She ground to a halt, toying with the cord that tied back the tent door. “I think maybe you were right when you said we got off on the wrong foot somewhere, and I’m sorry. I’ll go with you, if you want.”
There. Apology out. The fact that they’d have to go right by Ian’s camp had nothing to do with her offer, of course.
“Yes, absolutely,” said Flintrop. “I was just about to go. I’m glad you caught me.”
She nodded. “I’ll wait outside.” She retreated as quickly as possible and heaved a sigh. After that, facing earthquakes ought to be no problem.
Flintrop joined her a short while later, and they started the hike up to the boat dock. They walked in silence for fifteen minutes before he spoke. “So, I’m glad you decided to come along for the ride.”
She smiled briefly back and adjusted the backpack on her shoulder. He was going to drag this out of her, wasn’t he? Blushing, she admitted, “I guess I have been competing with you a little. Ever since I started my undergrad work, I’ve been coming up against the Flintrop legacy. It’s a little daunting.”
“Try being part of the family sometime.”
“Oh, right. Being the son and grandson of two of the field’s most notable must have been terrible, growing up.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “There was a time, if you can believe it, that I hated archaeology. I wanted to be a lawyer.”
“Really?”
“My father almost disinherited me over it. God forbid the son of Nicholas Flintrop became anything but an archaeologist. Not after my grandfather Elliott had scratched out such a powerful legacy from nothing.” His voice rang with sarcasm. “He finally agreed that I could study law for a year, and then we’d discuss it further.”
“Obviously, law didn’t make the cut, because here you are.”
He shrugged. “My father offered me a job as vice president of his firm, and said eventually, he’d hand over the entire family business. I couldn’t refuse. I didn’t want it, but now I have it, and I’m good at it, so there was no point in stopping.”
She thought about that. “I’d never have taken you for wanting anything but this life. I would have given anything to have what you have. I never got to learn from my father.”
“Be glad you didn’t learn from mine. He’s good, but he’s a hardass from a long line of hardasses.”
There was a sharp, bitter undertone to his voice. Sara glanced up, but Flintrop’s expression had gone blank.
They had reached Ian’s tent.
As if he’d been summoned, Ian emerged with a camera tripod balanced on his shoulder. He stopped when he saw her, and smiled. “Hey.”
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his voice. Her whole body responded to the sound. She had to force herself not to move toward him. “Hi.”
The corner of Ian’s mouth curled upward. “Making another coffee run?”
She laughed. “No, just the usual supplies. Do you need anything? I could pick it up.”
“No, I’m good here.” He glanced at Flintrop. His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Flintrop.”
“Waverly,” Flintrop responded dryly. “Sara, we’re losing good daylight. Shall we go?”
She saw Ian’s jaw clench and she frowned, wanting more than anything to stay. “Yeah, I’ll