Her shoulders relaxed. “I know it wasn’t easy for you to come and apologize. Especially after my treatment of you the other night. You’re right. I am hurt. And I’m angry. At you, at the whole situation.” She turned back to the table and picked up the contract. “Losing my father has brought out extreme emotions in me, and I know that I overreacted and allowed my temper to take over. Not without good reason, mind you.” The slight grin she sent him helped ease the tension. “Thank you for showing this to me. I do see now that you were in an impossible position. I don’t envy you that. But now I don’t know ... if I can trust you.”
Jacob waited, silent. He would respect whatever she said next. But hope flared in his chest that she might be willing to let him back in.
“Jacob, I—”
“Walter is ready with the carriage, Martha!” Lily Rose’s voicefloated into the tent as she walked through the open flap. The older women stopped short at the sight of the two of them together, her face flushing red. “What areyoudoing here?” She all but spat the words as she stepped between Martha and Jacob.
Startled by the woman’s rage, Jacob took a step backward. “I needed to explain to Mar—Miss Jankowski what happened. I thought I owed her that.”
“Don’t you think she’s been hurt enough by you?” She wagged a finger at him. “She doesn’t need the pain of seeing you again. You’ve broken her trust, and at a time when she was especially vulnerable.” Lily Rose let out a short laugh, full of derision. “That was probably your plan all along. No surprise. People like you—”
“Lily Rose, that’senough!”
Jacob looked at Martha, noting her hat and gloves were on, her drawstring bag over her wrist. His heart dropped.
“I will meet you in the carriage, Lily Rose.”
“This is hardly acceptable. And your mother—”
“I said I will meet you in the carriage.” Martha’s volume increased, startling Jacob.
Her companion stopped short, her eyes darting to Jacob. “Fine!” She stomped out of the tent.
Martha turned back to him, her shoulders rigid. There was no warmth in her gaze. Her fingers threaded through the fringe on her bag, nearly ripping it from the seams, much like the first night they met. Only it was anger agitating her movements, not nerves. This precious woman was slipping through his fingers.
“I appreciate your boldness and honor in your commitment to the dig here, Mr. Duncan. I know this couldn’t have been easy.” Her voice was distant, that polite society mask back in place. “But I need time to think about this. To consider everything you’ve shared with me. Please give me time. I willcontact you when I have an answer. You don’t need to come back to the dig until then.”
His heart sank. “I understand, Miss Jankowski. I will wait for you to contact me. And will abide by whatever you decide. But”—he paused and gave her a smile—“please know, no matter what happens, our time together will be held in my fondest memories. And I will always be praying for you.”
A sheen of tears filled her eyes. She nodded shortly and fled the tent.
“Well, Lord ...” Jacob sighed as the clack of wheels filled the now empty space. “It is in Your hands.”
Fifteen
“Above the firm foundation of the hills, above the wooded glens, above what we call the realities of life, and in spite of the hard things we call facts, one feels that far off, somewhere, somehow, good and truth and love will conquer and there is peace.”
~Earl Douglass
MONDAY, JULY8, 1889
After all the mess with that slimy reporter, Martha was about done with the whole Bone Wars narrative. As much as she wanted to bring a reputable name to the field...
She shook her head. Was it worth it?
She paced around her table at the quarry. The articles about her father’s alleged sabotage hadn’t been all that enlightening or condemning, but people were still talking about them. She’d noticed a few sideways glances in her direction.
Then there was an article that didn’t name Jacob directly but mentioned one worker who’d secretly worked for both teams competing for the prestigious spot at the museum. Thesuppositions printed were all negative. Had the man been hired to spy? To sabotage? What would the owners of each dig do?
The museum director had sent word that he would be checking into the situation with Jacob. The horrid reporter was no doubt behind informing the director of the worker’s identity.
And now inspections would be held at each dig weekly. That was fine with her. All the troubles needed to stop.
But to be honest, she couldn’t deny that the best thing that had ever happened to her was meeting Jacob. He’d already been working for the other dig then. He hadn’t tried to hide anything but had held up his end of his contract. That was trustworthy, right? Surely the museum director would find no wrongdoing on Jacob’s part.
She pressed her fingers to her temple and rubbed. Trying to rub away the headache and all the worries and concerns that caused it.
She had to face the facts of the probable consequences of this latest article. With word out about the competition, all the eager observers would be in search of the sites wanting to watch, steal a souvenir, or find a job.
