“All right.”Be nice, be nice, be nice.The chant resounded in his brain.
With a tiny step closer, she cleared her throat. “We’ve shared a lot, Joshua, and it would be remiss of me as your friend to not speak my mind.” Her voice softened as she spoke. “After watching you and Miss Lakeman together, I fear for you. I really d—”
“Whatever for?” It was rude for him to interrupt her when she clearly wasn’t finished, but his patience was wearing thin.
Her eyes snapped to life. “I’m not trying to be mean. Truly. But my father raised me to speak my mind with my friends. You’d be a fool to hold onto a woman who treats you so ill. Especially when there’s someone else right here willing to love and support you and help make all of your dreams come true.” She straightened with those last words and stared at him.
“Miss Oppenheim...” What on earth could he say to that?
“Rosemary, please.” She smiled up at him. A lovely woman, truly, butnotthe woman for him.
He lowered his voice. “Rosemary. I appreciate your friendship more than I can express in words. But I love Anna. We are going to be married.” He touched her elbow. “I don’t wish to hurt you—”
“Stop.” She pulled away. “I don’t need to hear any more. I won’t trouble you again, Mr. Ziegler. Not without an invitationto do so.” With a jut of her chin, she spun around and walked away.
Julian wandered down to the dig site. Where was everyone? He hadn’t seen anyone since he returned from Green River.
He looked around the work area. All the crates were locked up. No tools were lying around.
That was odd. They must be working on something else.
He turned back to his house, but the closer he got to his side of the washout, his heart pounded. The flash flood had washed away a good deal....
No!
He ran the rest of the way.
With a glance over his shoulder, he winced. Maybe he could fix it before they came back to dig.
He scurried around. Grabbed the tall ladder. Filled a burlap sack full of garden soil. Then he picked up one of his larger trowels.
Once he was back down in the washout, he scanned the horizon in all directions to make sure no one was coming. That no one was watching.
He climbed the ladder and looked at the exposed grave. Was it ... Mother?
Tears rushed to his eyes and he couldn’t see. He swiped the sleeve of his shirt over his eyes to clear his blurry vision. For a moment he was frozen. How could he hide this?
Damian’s whisper washed over him. “If you pull the skeleton out—even if you could—the ground above it will collapse.”
He was right. What had he been thinking? He couldn’t pull it out and then fill it back in. That wouldn’t work.
He gazed down at the bag of soil he’d brought with him.
“The only choice you have is to get rid of what’s sticking out. Just pull out the skull. Fill it in with dirt. No one will know.”
Looking at it made him queasy.
“Get it over with,” Damian hissed.
Using the trowel, Julian dug around the skull and tugged. It wouldn’t budge. He stabbed at the dirt. Got his hand over the top of the skull and stabbed the dirt again.
Again and again.
The skull moved toward him.
He stabbed the trowel at whatever was holding the skull in place. Over and over.
It finally came out. The dirt above it sagged.
