"That I've found the most significant Underground Railroad documents in Vermont history and need time to properly document everything." She traced patterns on my chest with one finger, and even that simple touch made me want her again. "And that I've found something else worth staying for."
"What's that?"
She looked up at me with eyes full of love and certainty and forever. "My home. My man. My future."
The possessive satisfaction that flooded through me was overwhelming. This brilliant, beautiful woman had chosen me. Had chosen our life together over everything safe and expected.
As we worked together for the rest of the day—her documenting papers while I crafted a proper desk for her conservation work—I couldn't stop watching her. The way she moved through my space like she belonged there. The way she unconsciously touched me whenever she passed by. The way she kept glancing at the cradle with soft, wondering eyes.
Tonight, I'd hold her in my bed, our bed, and tomorrow we'd begin mapping the Underground Railroad route that had brought us together. We'd work side by side, building something meaningful, something lasting.
She was mine now, and I protected what was mine.
Always.
Chapter 7
Kim
The afternoon sun slanted through Neil's workshop windows, turning sawdust motes into floating gold. I should have called Pemberton an hour ago, but I kept finding excuses—helping Neil measure boards for the desk he was building, brewing fresh coffee.
"You're going to have to call him eventually." Neil's voice carried no judgment, just gentle understanding.
"I know." I set down the jpgs I'd been pretending to study. "I just need to figure out what to say."
"Just lay down the law. Tell him you need a leave of absence.”
Yeah, like it would be that easy.
The phone felt heavy in my hand. Six years of following Pemberton's orders, six years of being invisible in the background while he took credit for research I'd done. And now I had to call him and explain why I wasn’t going back to work for him.
Neil put down his sanding block and came to stand behind me, solid and reassuring. "Want me to leave while you call?"
"No. Stay. Please."
I hit dial before I could lose my nerve.
"Dr. Fox, you better not be calling in sick for tomorrow." Pemberton's voice was sharp with suspicion.
"No, Dr. Pemberton. I'm calling about a significant historical discovery."
His snort carried clearly through the phone. "The Vermont logging camps? I told you that was a waste of time."
"It wasn’t. I found an Underground Railroad documentation cache. Original documents from 1853 to 1855, including coded slave manifests and safe house records."
Silence. Then, "You're certain they're authentic?"
"The paper, ink, and writing style are consistent with the period. The names match historical records. I need to do further research to confirm, but I’ve got several more leads."
"Interesting." His tone shifted, calculating now. "I'll need to verify this myself. I want you back tomorrow with whatever you've found."
“The weather took a turn for the worse,” I said, knowing I was taking the coward’s way out. “My rental car was caught in mud. I’m stranded.”
“Hire a car.”
So much for that. "Actually, the reason I’m calling is to request a leave of absence so I can explore this area more thoroughly.”
"Denied."
