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‘No and no. But the anticipation is killing me. I need to stay calm and objective, and now you’re here, you can help me.’
‘How?’
‘By reminding me you don’t want to spend too much money.’
‘I can do that. So don’t go unearthing the sacred remains of St Columba or anything.’
‘It won’t be anything as dramatic as that.’ Her irises sparkled. ‘If we’re lucky, it might be the foundations and lower walls of some kind of settlement or maybe some fragments or artefacts. But there’s always a possibility there might be nothing.’
‘Am I bad to hope that?’
‘Yes, Mr Matheson, you’re very bad.’
The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Sorry.’
She looked away, grinning.
‘Not,’ he added.
‘Let’s see who’s smiling at the end of the day.’
With all the nonsense fluffing his brain it was easy to forget who he was talking to. His hackles didn’t rise at what, a month ago, he’d have considered threatening language.
The excavator driver fired it up and began stripping the top layer of turf. That driver had done a job for Calum before. Hopefully he was oblivious to the Lamond/ Matheson feud or hadn’t made the connection. Calum side-eyed Rhona. She watched the ground intently, barely blinking as the excavator scraped over the surface. In her arms she clung to a clipboard like it was her newborn child and Calum forced away that thought before babies and Rhona besieged his brain again.
After about twenty minutes, Rhona held up her hand and stopped the driver. Calum’s heart rate quickened. Rhona bounded towards the excavator and the driver pulled back. She crouched and pushed soil to one side, then made notes on her clipboard.
‘What was that about?’ Calum asked when she returned to him.
‘Thought I saw something but it was nothing.’
Calum frowned and sucked in his lip. Was there still a possibility this was a set-up? Would she find something for the sake of it? He wanted to believe in her and trust her like she was an impartial individual, but years of ingrained hatred of the Lamonds wouldn’t just evaporate.
‘This isn’t the most exciting job in the world.’ Calum scuffed his foot on the grass after they’d stood watching the excavator for goodness knew how long. It groaned forward, creaking and scraping.
‘Sorry. This bit is like watching paint dry. Maybe we should take a break. It’ll help to focus.’ Rhona held up her hand. The excavator engine grumbled to a halt and she shared a few words with the driver before he headed up the hill towards his van. ‘He’s well prepared,’ she said. ‘He’s got a flask in his van.’
‘So do I,’ Calum said.
‘Really?’
‘Of course, Miss Lamond. Have you forgotten what it’s like to live here? You can’t exactly pop into Starbucks.’
She smiled. ‘I know that. I’m just used to doing digs with more facilities.’
‘I got you a Portaloo.’
‘Such generosity.’
‘It bloody is.’
‘Thank you.’ She patted his bare forearm with her fingertips, her forget-me-not blue eyes trailing upwards until she reached his face. Calum went rigid. Instinct nudged him to back off but he didn’t. The energy burning low in his gut forced him to stay put. Because he wanted to get closer. Her touch was shaking up the status quo in his nerve ends. His breathing quickened and he cleared his throat.
‘Do you want to share some tea? I might have a spare cup.’ He edged away.
‘Go on then.’
He nipped back to the car and dug around in the boot. What was happening to him? Why these sudden urges and bizarre thoughts?
