North Dakota Weddings (24 page)

“Thank you for what?”

“I accessioned the Hamlin Exhibit. It’s on loan from the Prehistoric Museum in Utah.” Jim sounded energized.

Brandon squinted, trying to comprehend what Jim had said. He didn’t want to get his hopes up if he’d misunderstood. “Say again?”

Jim came fully into his office and pulled out the chair across from Brandon, a victorious smile on his face. “I think you heard me. The Hamlin Exhibit. It’s on its way here.”

“You’re talking prehistoric developmental pottery discovered in Utah, right? That’s out of the provenance of our collections, don’t you think?” He wasn’t sure what Jim was thinking on this one. Their collections, both natural and cultural, were limited to southwest North Dakota. But maybe…

Jim sent him a pointed stare. “I think it’s an opportunity.”

Brandon leaned back as far as the chair would allow and stared at the ceiling. News of the display could certainly give him the edge he needed to solicit more donors.

“Brandon? What do you think?” Jim asked, the ring of impatience in his voice.

Probably because Brandon hadn’t given him the slap on the back he was looking for. Jim was an experienced curator with a master’s degree in history and archaeology. Brandon figured the man was simply doing his job. And, having worked with Brandon for years now, Jim knew better than to expect kudos.

Brandon rolled forward and sat tall, fixing Jim with a look. “We’ll have to rush order the appropriate display enclosures, organize the exhibit.”

Jim snorted. “Well, that goes without saying, doesn’t it? I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

“Oh, but I am. Can’t you see the wheels in my head are already turning?”

“Sure. I hoped you’d turn a few cartwheels, too.”

Brandon laughed, already visualizing the exhibit. “We’ll need to create marketing materials, get the word out. I like for the displays to be as kid friendly as possible. Not sure that’s going to work on this. How long do we have the collection?”

“Six months.”

“What is the total value of the artifacts?” Brandon asked.

“You know that’s relative, depending on who is buying.” He grinned. “The museum has the exhibit insured for 150,000 dollars.”

A quarter of our operating budget
. Brandon whistled. That number made him slightly nervous. “Not sure how you managed this.”

“Connections are everything, as you know.”

Brandon nodded, frowning. He assumed Jim referred to how Brandon had secured his current position as museum director. He didn’t enjoy the reminder that his reputation alone couldn’t have landed him this job.

The replica artist’s materials and business card stared back at him from his desk. The way the artist’s references sounded, even a museum expert would have difficulty telling the difference. Given the news Jim had shared, now would be a great time to test the artist’s abilities. He grinned at the thought. At the same time, he could test Jim’s ability to discern a replica from an authentic artifact, have a little fun with him. Brandon shuffled papers on his desk to hide the information packet. And…the way Jim acted lately, the man could probably use getting knocked down a few notches.

“I’d say things are beginning to look up.” But he must maintain the foothold he had at the museum while gaining momentum. This could be exactly what he needed to accomplish that. It would mean more hours of work and even fewer free weekends.

Sorry, Dad
. With the thought, the workload on his desk began pressing on him. “Was there anything else?”

“We’ll need more volunteers and interns to make this run smoothly,” Jim added.

At that, Brandon leaned back again and folded his arms over his chest. He gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m thinking not.”

“What?” Surprised eyes stared back.

“Volunteers, yes. Interns, no. I don’t have time to take anyone under my wing right now. I need to focus on making this museum a success. In fact, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Should have done this sooner.”

“And what’s
this?”
Jim sounded cautious.

“No more protégés.” After what someone had pulled five years ago, practically destroying his career, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be in that position again.

Jim laughed. “Come on. You don’t have to mentor anyone just because we bring them on as interns. Besides, they make better workers than volunteers who have no expertise or any interest in furthering their future.”

Brandon nodded. “That’s what you said last year, and I still ended up with someone expecting my time and energy.” He closed his eyes, hating how the words sounded because he truly wanted to give back to others, help them if he could. He loved teaching. But not at the expense of the museum, or his time and energy.

Jim sighed.

“Just…not right now. I’m still in disaster-recovery mode.” He’d only been museum director of the new museum for three years now. There was plenty of time in the future to mentor interns. “Right now, I have to make sure this museum gains respect and credibility.”
That I have a solid future
.

Brandon avoided Jim’s eyes, knowing full well the man thought Brandon should let go of the past. But Jim hadn’t gone through the scrutiny that Brandon had.

At that moment, he took a closer look at the applications resting on his desk.
Intern apps
. “Therefore, we can toss these in the trash.” Brandon did exactly that.

Jim jumped up. “Wait. You can’t just throw them out. You have to respond to each one of them. Give them a nice rejection letter.”

“Considering I didn’t request them, maybe you should send out the letters.”

Yanking the stash from the small garbage can, Jim rifled through them. “Do you realize how long these have been sitting on your desk?”

“No, but I’m wondering why they ended up there in the first place.” Brandon chuckled, hoping to diffuse the tension and stood, moving to the credenza where he always kept a carafe of coffee.

“No idea.”

He poured himself a cup. “Coffee?”

“No thanks. I’m glad we didn’t have this conversation until now because we need the additional help. Our summer months are the busiest. We already have a few extra volunteers and interns on the way.”

Brandon stopped with the cup halfway to his lips. “What?”

A
mber stood in the museum lobby. Nausea stirred in her stomach. Why did she have to follow so closely in her brother’s career path when it served as a constant reminder of him? She’d spent her childhood idolizing him, following in his footsteps—but he’d destroyed everything.

The museum directory stared back at her, the exhibit listings soothing her thoughts. Maybe all things ancient was simply in the family blood.

Amber ran a finger over the directory’s smooth Plexiglas surface, glad for time to peruse the museum. The directory included a floor plan, revealing the location of various exhibits.

She loved that the museum included local cultural history as well as the natural history of the region, boasting a full triceratops skull, duck-billed dinosaurs, and a full-sized model of a
Tyrannosaurus rex—all
dinosaurs that had been discovered in the nearby Hell Creek Formation. Her momentary disappointment deterred, Amber looked forward to exploring the museum.

“Excuse me.” A slender college-aged girl touched Amber’s shoulder. “You must be Amber McKinsey.”

Amber tried not to stare at the pink stripe down the right side of the girl’s black hair. “Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”

“The lady in the store pointed you out. I’m Muriel Willbanks.” She thrust out her hand. “We’re going to be roommates.” Her smile broadened. “Isn’t this exciting?”

Working at the museum store exciting? But then Muriel probably wouldn’t be a volunteer in the store. Amber returned the smile.

“I’m heading to the cabin now to unpack.”

“Do you need any help?” Amber asked, mostly to be polite. She really wanted to explore the museum now.

“Oh, that would be great. My car is in the parking lot.”

Masking her disappointment, Amber followed Muriel out to her dusty, old Honda Accord. The girl seemed nice enough, dispersing any reservations Amber had about rooming with someone she didn’t know or like. At least she had wheels.

“So, what’s your assignment?” Amber asked.

Muriel fairly squealed. “I’m interning under Dr. Laudan. I’ll get to accompany her to the digs. Can you imagine finding a real dinosaur fossil?”

When Amber woke up from a nap, her roommate was gone. Muriel’s news had stung Amber in a big way, especially on the heels of discovering she’d be working in the store instead of assisting with real science or museum work. Amber had been too deflated to go back to the museum after helping Muriel unpack. And now, it was too late. Figuring she had an hour before dark, Amber pulled on her sneakers.

Running had always given her an extra energy boost and lifted her spirits. Things often looked clear where they’d been muddy. These days, with so much weighing on her, she wasn’t sure she could survive without the exhilarating exercise. An ache sliced through her heart. She used to pray when she ran. Since the accident that had killed her mother and sister, she’d hardened her heart. She knew it, but what to do about it?

From his cage, Josh stared at her and wriggled his little nose. She opened the top and gently tugged him out, sending a puff of white fur everywhere. Holding the small white bundle close, she rubbed him behind the ears. Mom had always kept rabbits.

You’d really love this one, Mom
. Amber held Josh up to look him in the eyes then placed him back in his cage.

Stumbling out the door, she stood on the porch. Rocky Mountain junipers and red cedars surrounded the small cabin. She took a deep breath of their strong evergreen scent, then jogged down the gravel drive lined with poplars, easily spotting the trailhead. The sign said the trail was five and a half miles and showed a diagram of a loop connecting with other trails, some nearing the Little Missouri River.

Now that was something Amber desperately wanted to see. Scientists said a glacier had forced the river into a short steep route, which created the Badlands formations. If nothing else, this summer diversion should allow her to explore the region—a huge attraction to geologists and paleontologists around the world.

Amber ran along the trail, enjoying the fresh air. With the sun quickly setting, she quickened her five-mile pace on the loop. Ahead of her, the trail narrowed between two large cedars, and another runner approached from the opposite direction. She made a longer stride between the trees and stepped on a huge rock, seemingly out of place in her path, careful to avoid stepping at the wrong angle since her injury last year.

Pushing from the rock, she propelled around another tree and collided with someone—the other runner? White and blue flashed in her eyes. She stumbled, a familiar pain ripping through her right ankle. Her balance lost, she fell forward, hands and knees catching the brunt of her fall.

Pebbles and rocks pierced her palms. She rolled onto her backside then sprawled flat on her back to stare at the canopy above. “Well, this is just a great addition to an already perfect day.”

She wondered if the other person had fallen, too. “You all right over there?”

A handsome face framed with black hair hovered above her. Dark olive eyes stared down at her in concern. He offered his hand. “I’m fine. You’re the one who took a fall.”

“It’s my family heirloom. Clumsiness.” Though she wasn’t sure how much value she could put on it. Amber accepted his help and stood. She dusted off her shorts. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

The man scrutinized himself, looking over his smudged white T-shirt and dark blue running shorts. “No, I think I’m good, except that I received an elbow to the ribs.” His frown spread into a V-shaped wide grin, producing large dimples. He held his side. “You pack a great punch when you’re falling.”

Amber stared, unsure if he was teasing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not the one having a bad day.”

Puzzled, it took her a few seconds to form words. “And how would you know that?”

“What? That I’m not the one having a bad day?”

“Okay, you’re teasing, aren’t you?”

That smile again. “Only partially. When you fell, you said something about this being a great addition to your perfect day. I assumed that was an attempt at sarcasm.”

Amber’s cheeks warmed. “I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.”

“You want to tell me about it? We can run together.”

“No, I’ve got an old war injury I think I just triggered when I ran into you. I should walk for a bit until it feels better.”

“Okay, let’s walk the trail then.”

Amber considered the stranger’s invitation, and feeling comfortable with him, she said, “Sure, you can walk with me. I’m heading back though. Want to clean up these scrapes.”

He reached down to grab a stainless steel water bottle with the Nike label. Uncapping the bottle, he held it out to her. “Thirsty?”

“No, I’m good.”

“So, tell me about your bad day before the fall.” He walked next to her when the trail would allow.