North Dakota Weddings (30 page)

Later that evening, after the museum had closed, Brandon stood in his office, hitting his head against the filing cabinet.

“Looks serious,” Jim said from behind.

Brandon froze. He thought the guy had already left for the day. He gave the filing cabinet a good-fisted thump then composed himself, turning to face Jim. “Can’t a guy blow off some steam?”

“Sure he can. Mind telling me what’s bothering you?” He cracked a half grin and grabbed a chair, making himself comfortable as if they were the best of buddies.

Brandon was in no mood to talk, even to Jim, whom he’d known for years. Funny thing, that. Jim had jumped at the chance to become curator of the Harrington Museum when Brandon began assembling his team, but they’d never been close. Still, Brandon didn’t need to be friends with his employees, he just needed them to do their jobs.

He studied Jim, aware that he was waiting on Brandon to spill. So, why was it that lately Jim was getting on his nerves?

“I’m guessing this has everything to do with the new intern’s accident today?” Jim asked, apparently unwilling to wait on Brandon’s response.

This was going to be a long night. Brandon sat behind his desk, feeling the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders, and hung his head. “Yep, you guessed it.”

“Jason said the errant boys and their father left the tour, but the rest followed him over to view the
T. rex
dig site, and the way he made it sound, they were all so excited about seeing it, they probably forgot about the girl.”

“Fire him.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Jim stared, pausing before he replied. “But Jason’s been with us—”

“He signed an at-will contract, right? You’ve already put him on probation for not following the rules, right? On a fossil dig, people get hurt when rules aren’t followed. The guy’s burned out. He messed up big-time as far as I’m concerned. He shouldn’t have left Amber.”

“Amber? Oh, you mean Miss McKinsey?”

When Brandon didn’t reply, Jim continued. “Jason has accompanied her on the tour now for several days. She should have been fully capable of taking care of the small group. If anyone needs dismissing—”

“Stop.”

“We’re down too many people already. Miss McKinsey clearly isn’t cut out for this. Jason is experienced—”

Brandon had enough and threw up his hand. “Follow the correct procedures, but I want him gone tomorrow. And Amber…I’ve moved her from the field.”

Jim’s mouth dropped open. “But who’s going to take their place?”

“I don’t care. Find someone. Combine the groups. Figure it out, or lead the tours yourself.” Brandon couldn’t stop the harsh rush of words, but Jim had managed to pick the wrong time to question him about the day’s events.

Jim stood. “Considering what happened before, I’d think you’d be more sensitive to how things look. And right now, my friend, it looks like your motivation—especially where this girl is concerned—is questionable. Why are you protecting her? If anything, it should be my call. You said you didn’t want to be involved with the interns, remember?”

Brandon grabbed his suit coat and swung it over his shoulder then held the door in silent warning. Jim walked through and headed to his office without another word.

Once in his car Brandon sagged against the seat. The day’s events had spiraled out of control and they just kept going. No matter what he did, he hadn’t been able to rein things in. Then, hoping to make sure things were all right with Amber, and there wouldn’t be more problems, he’d stopped by her cabin. Big mistake.

He hadn’t intended to ask her to work with him. But with her in his arms today, sobbing—though he assumed it was due to the medication—he’d heard her heart and probably much more than she’d ever intended, or ever would under normal circumstances. Then, something inside him snapped, and he’d forsaken his rule, digging in deep this time.

She most likely wouldn’t remember anything, but then her roommate was there, watching him with her eagle eyes. She’d remember. Muriel would probably blather about Amber in his arms, sobbing until he quieted her, soothed her. She’d remained in his arms far too long, seemingly comforted until he finally realized she’d fallen asleep. As she rested there against him, he could feel her softness, smell her hair, but then he felt her roommate’s stare.

What was he doing? What must she be thinking?

He’d then gently settled Amber onto the sofa and tucked the blanket around her. Again, under Muriel’s watchful eyes. Just as well—he certainly wouldn’t want rumors to fly had he been caught alone with Amber. However, they were likely to fly anyway.

He could see the small-town headlines already. H
ARRINGTON
M
USEUM’S
D
IRECTOR
S
AID TO
C
OMFORT
B
EAUTIFUL
V
OLUNTEERS
. Brandon wasn’t certain what damage control he could do now, except…dismiss her as Jim suggested. To protect the museum, volunteers and interns also signed an at-will contract as though they were museum employees but if someone didn’t function well in the environment, he or she was simply asked to leave. He’d certainly not intended for Amber to work directly with him, but neither could he bring himself to dash her hopes and dreams because of his own past and weaknesses or to protect his own skin.

What kind of cad would he be to do such a thing? He pounded the steering wheel, noting Jim’s car sitting a few spots away. Jim was wrong. Brandon was making every attempt to be sensitive to his peculiar situation. He’d do everything he could to shove aside his personal feelings for her, act like a professional, and give a budding young museum director or paleontologist the chance she needed. People had taken a chance on him, and more than once.

As he drove from the parking lot, he pondered the news about Amber that Muriel had shared with him.

T
wo days later, Amber rolled out of bed in time to grab breakfast before heading over to the museum. The doctor had suggested she take three days off, but it only took two for her to feel better. Not to mention, she couldn’t stand another day of being left alone with her thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget her humiliation at having cried on Dr. Selman’s shoulder—and worse—spewing her deepest insecurities.

Muriel assured her that Dr. Selman understood Amber was “under the influence” as she’d put it. According to Muriel, he admitted he’d chosen the wrong time to talk to Amber. Add to her embarrassment, she’d been waiting for this chance—but not like this. The way things had unfolded, she imagined he wanted to evaluate her rather than expand her experience.

Whenever she managed to put those thoughts from her mind, she came face-to-face with her brother’s situation all over again. She’d not spoken to him since the death of their mother and sister a year ago. As Amber nuked a bowl of oatmeal, she remembered it had been about that long since she’d had a heart-to-heart with God. When she removed the bowl from the microwave, it felt heavy…like her heart.

Once she finished breakfast, she rushed out the door into the fresh morning air. Sucking in a deep breath, she encouraged herself with positive thoughts—like the Bible said in Philippians—she would “think about such things.” This would be a good day.

She still had hope. She still had a chance to prove herself to Dr. Selman.

At the museum, she found the employees-only section and looked for the receiving room. Gladys told her she could find Dr. Selman there.

Inside the room, Amber made her way between tall stacks of boxes. When she saw Dr. Selman, she froze and watched him examine a large crate. As she observed his handsome form, she thought about how much he’d accomplished for someone she guessed to be in his late thirties. Some might call him an overachiever. Was there someone in his life who inspired him to great accomplishments?

At one time, Michael had been that someone for her.

Dr. Selman removed the batten that secured the exterior of the crate then worked to pry the top open. The top gave way, and he tossed it on the concrete floor. Peering inside, he began pulling out the material used to pad and protect the contents.

He stilled. The item inside must have drawn his full attention. To her surprise, he turned his head and looked straight at her. She pressed forward, hoping to hide that she’d been observing him.

“Dr. Selman. I was told I’d find you here. Reporting for duty, sir.”

A warm smile spread across his face. “You know, this isn’t the military.”

She stopped in front of him, standing next to the long crate. “What do you mean?”

“I always feel as if you’re going to salute me.”

Amber frowned. “Oh, I…uh…” This wasn’t the way she wanted to start off. “I just think of you as a very important person.”

“Ha! I’m no more important than anyone else.” He quirked a brow and half grinned, exposing his long dimple again.

His smile too cute for comfort, Amber blinked a few times, hoping to lessen its effect on her. “Well, in my world, you’re somebody.”

“Let’s change your worldview, then, by dispensing with Dr. Selman. Just call me Brandon.”

Call him by his first name? She tugged her earlobe, thinking. Gladys had seemed adamant about his title. And what would the others think?

“I’m sure I couldn’t do that. I’m accustomed to calling my professors Doctor. Since I’m here to learn from you, it’s easier for me this way.”

His forehead creasing, he studied her. “Well, if you must. But this is a small museum and I’m not about titles.”

His attention back on the crate, he gestured for Amber to look inside.

A life-size figure rested in the crate. Amber drew in a short breath. “Sacagawea.”

“Good, that’s the sort of reaction I like to see.”

Uncertain what he meant, Amber considered his comment as she laid her bag against a chair. Then she stood tall, ready to work.

“You’re not too disappointed about being pulled from the field?” He began pulling out the straw-like stuffing that protected the figure.

“Oh, no. I love history.” Amber didn’t add that she feared it was his frustration with her family heirloom that led to his decision. Then again, maybe she’d already explained that when she’d cried on his shoulder. “Um…before we get started. There’s something I’d like to say.”

Brandon dropped a handful of what Amber now saw was finely shredded tissue paper, and waited for her to continue. Wow, she was actually going to work with the man. The only downside? Her infatuation—and oh, she was infatuated with him—might actually turn into a full-blown crush. She swallowed against the tightness in her throat.

“Well?” he asked.

“You’re not anything like the professors at UND.”

“Is that what you wanted to say?”

“No, actually. I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

“There’s no need to apologize. Really. Let’s just forget everything. That is, whatever you can actually remember.” He quirked his crazy grin again.

The problem was that his grin was starting to make
her
crazy.

Packing material hung from the box, giving her a hare-brained idea. She snatched a handful of shredded paper.

Anticipating her next move, Dr. Selman threw up his arms as though to protect himself and smiled. “Hey, wait a minute.”

Amber tossed the mass at him, but it wasn’t cooperative, acting more like she’d thrown feathers. She laughed but stopped when she realized he wasn’t throwing the stuff back. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

At least he smiled, but he appeared unsure about what to do next. His reaction reminded her of when she’d met him on the trail. He looked like a man who wanted to say something but had no words. Maybe Dr. Selman didn’t know how to lighten up.

Or maybe she needed to get serious.

She cleared her throat. “So, what are we doing? Tell me what exactly you’ve moved me into, because honestly, I don’t remember much of the other night.”

“I want you to help me with the artifacts arriving in a few weeks. But in two weeks, we host Living History Week, and we have to set up a diorama. We don’t want to disrupt the visitors during the day so we’ll set up after…” He paused as though considering something. “I hope you don’t mind working after hours?”

That would mean a long day.

Seeming to read her mind, he added, “You don’t need to come in until after lunch, and we’ll work through the afternoon and evening hours. How does that sound?”

Working long hours with handsome Dr. Selman? She’d have to think about it. Putting a finger to her lips, she said, “Okay.”

“Oh, except for Wednesday nights. I teach a Bible study.”

“I…uh…You teach a
Bible
study?”

Dr. Selman opened another box. “Why so surprised?”

“I think you know why. You’re a paleontologist. You can’t be a Christian
and
a paleontologist. And if you are, you can’t let anyone know about it. ”

He stopped what he was doing and placed his elbow on an unopened crate, leaning against it. “And aren’t
you
considering paleontology as a career?”

The way that he said it—“How did you know I’m a Christian?”

He approached her and stood near. Too near. What was he doing? “Everyone leaves signs, little clues, of who they really are. You just have to pay attention.”

He raised his hand, then touched the small cross on her neck and lifted it, holding it against his fingers. He looked from the cross into her eyes. The olive color of his appeared to ebb and flow with an emotion she couldn’t read.

Did he realize how close he was?

“Sign number one.”

His nearness…She couldn’t think straight and averted her gaze. As she took a step back, he released the cross.

“Lots of people wear crosses; it’s the style.” She tugged on the necklace her sister had given to her.

Folding his arms over his chest, he gave her a pointed look. “After you fell, when you were unconscious, just before you came fully awake, you were praying. Sign number two.”

Amber felt her eyes widen. She’d been praying? But how? Why wouldn’t she know? She couldn’t even pray when she was awake.