“It’smyinvestigation,” he says, every inch the haughty Brit. “Besides, I can’t do any good here, and a friend would be helpful for you there. Correct?” He glowers at her.
“God, fine.” Charliewouldenjoy talking to him.
“That’s settled, then. Given the choice, I will always go where I am most useful to you, Ripley.”
His voice is one part satisfaction, one part stubbornness, and one part something Ripley recognizes from when he tied her shoe. Regret, maybe? Penance? There’s something noble and something painful mixed together, like a lion with a thorn in his paw.
I’m keeping you alive, Ripley Adams. For science.
“We leave first thing tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.”
17
July 4:
Fifty-Five Days Until the End of the Summer Excavation Season
The wind is cold by the time Geraldine’s satisfied with the half a dozen containers of thick sandwiches, fruit slices, and salty snacks she’s pressed into Ripley’s arms. A uniform line of leaden clouds advances steadily from the western horizon. Ripley was hoping to outrun the storm, but they’re likely going to catch at least the northern edge of it.
Outside, Smithson’s gingerly touching the hood of the Charger like he’s trying to make friends with a wild beast. Ripley doesn’t remember seeing that gold signet ring on his little finger before. Up close, she can make out a heraldic crest carved into the face. It’s the kind of ring he could use to seal a letter that started withMy darling.
She needs to stop overinterpreting the way his eyes jump away whenever she looks in his direction. Stop remembering the stutter in his breath when she braced herself against him yesterday afternoon. Stop thinking about how much shelikesthat he insisted on coming along.
He doesn’t want anything beyond friendship from her. Plus, his reputation wouldn’t exactly benefit from being associated with hers. With eight weeks left to find the rest of Beauty—fewer, with the storm delays—neither of them has time to flirt.
Smithson frowns. “What are you wearing?”
She looks down at her sunshine-yellow cropped sweatshirt, canvas shorts, and tennis shoes. “I keep some street clothes at Geraldine’s.” She’s also fixed her hair in two braids instead of one and added a black baseball cap and aviators. She didn’t overthink it at all.
“Hey,” she says, noticing a pile of clothes in the back seat right where she was going to put the food. “Did you take my coat out of the trunk?”
He scowls, twisting his ring. “You should have warm outerwear ready to go in case we break down in the rain.”
She stares at the coat. At the boots tucked behind her seat. He had thought of her, worried about her, wanted her to be comfortable. Then he had to figure out what she needed, find it, put it where she could access it. So many steps.
“Let me guess. It’s for science, right?”
“No. I’m feeling…” He pushes up his glasses testily. “If I tell you I’m nervous, will you promise not to coddle me?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunching inward like he’s trying to keep his heart from escaping his chest. She wants to hug him, but that probably falls under the definition ofcoddling.
“It’s not too late to change your—okay, okay,” she says at his fierce look. “Just…tell me what you need, all right?”
She takes it easy all the way to I-15. Whenever she checks on him, he’s staring at the road. Never at the tree-lined mountains or the rounded hills braided with paths of runoff. One hand clutches the burled wood of the dash like he’s using the Force.
“Why do you own a car like this?” he asks eventually.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re a serious person. Very driven. And this car is…”
“Unserious.”
He gives her a look likeIf the shoe fits…“It can’t hold many fossils.”
“This car was my dad’s. He bought it for joy.” That’s what Steve Adams had said when they’d torn down the highway on their weekend trips, hollering along to music she picked from the CDs he kept in a soft-covered black binder: Alanis Morissette, Our Lady Peace, Lauryn Hill. He’d bought the Charger used, installed the wood trim with his own hands. He’d also rebuilt the engine, replaced the clouded Plexiglas over the timeless analog instrument panel, and refurbished the classic tan leather upholstery.
