North Dakota Weddings (36 page)

“I’m looking forward to it.”

He smiled. “We’ll be examining each of the artifacts for preexisting damage. I’ll show you what to look for. Then each item must be cataloged on the computer.”

“I’m here to help,” she said and studied the pot, though she could feel his gaze on her.

“Wait until you see how painfully time consuming the job can be.”

“Hopefully, I won’t let you down.”

He placed the artifact into a specially designed box lined with Ethafoam. “In a larger museum you wouldn’t be doing this without extensive knowledge of this time period. I’m here to assist you with that, considering I’ve broadened my education to include historical artifacts to accommodate the cultural side of the museum.”

This time, Amber met his gaze. “But…you still love fossils, right?”

“Always.” He slipped into his familiar half grin, producing that long dimple in his right cheek.

She loved his grin. Loved it.

The way she smiled back at him…

Brandon chuckled. Was it a nervous reaction or his hopeless attempt to shake the effect her liquid gold eyes had on him? Not only was she strikingly beautiful, she was highly intelligent. And when they’d worked on the dioramas for Living History Week, he’d admired her passion. Though there was no doubt he needed her help, his motivation went far deeper than how much she would ease his workload, cataloging the artifacts.

Working with her like this would be difficult.

Brandon explained that a digital image of each artifact was uploaded to the computer; then all cataloging information was entered, including where the artifact would be stored or exhibited within the museum. “We’ll store these artifacts until we’re ready to display them. And make certain that you catalog before you store.”

Amber’s eyes grew wide. “I can see that would be disastrous.”

He chuckled. “No kidding. It took us weeks to locate an artifact that had been stored before cataloging. The volunteer stored the item then forgot to enter its location. Catastrophic for a museum.”

“I can only imagine if the Smithsonian didn’t keep good records—how would they ever find anything?”

At the computer, he stood behind her and peered over her shoulder as he directed her through the various components of the process. “Once you get the hang of it, it’s really nothing more than data entry.”

“When you put it that way, it’s not something that would sound good on a résumé.”

“Ah. We’ll make certain your experience here shines.” He shot her a grin.

Her attention focused on the computer screen, Brandon watched her, wishing he had more control over his mind. An unwelcome thought continued to accost him—he wanted Amber to give him a sign that he meant something more to her.

But Amber was young, vibrant, and beautiful. How could she think of him as anything but her mentor? Yet he’d battled thoughts of her from the moment they’d collided, and clearly, no amount of professionalism on his part would change his growing feelings for her.

Thankfully, Amber was a quick learner, freeing Brandon from hovering over her shoulder, tortured with smelling her floral-scented hair. He moved to a table at the other side of the room where he gently removed artifacts from their protective boxes, examined and cataloged them. A comfortable silence filled the room, and they spoke only when necessary.

Focusing on the computer screen, he decided he was more than pleased with the PastPerfect museum software they’d purchased six months ago. He was searching the exhibit items on loan entered so far when Amber’s voice gently broke through his concentration.

“Dr. Selman.”

Completing the search, he turned on the stool to face her. “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure about this one. Would you mind letting me know what you think?” Brandon walked across the room to where she waited.

Her expression told him she was completely involved in the work, her mind absorbing everything like a sponge. Brandon liked to see that sort of devotion.

“This is the first damaged artifact I’ve had. See the edge here. How do I know if it was discovered that way, or damaged during the shipment?”

“Let’s see.” He ran a finger over the jagged edge of the pottery. “This doesn’t appear to be new. Describe the damage and, along with the digital image, that should be enough.”

Amber finished cataloging the item then placed it gently back into the protective box. She moved from the stool, stirring the scent of her perfume around him.

Near the end of the day, Brandon found himself exhausted from the wearisome tasks of cataloging.

Amber yawned from across the room. “Excuse me.”

Brandon laughed. “This is definitely tedious, no question there.”

“Honestly, I think I’m a field girl, when all is said and done.” She covered her mouth, yawning again.

“Careful now. You know that’s contagious.” Brandon felt a yawn coming on as well.

“I’m so sorry. Please don’t think I’m not happy to do this.”

Each item took time to evaluate. However, that wasn’t Brandon’s problem. Could he work next to Amber for that long and keep his distance?

“You know, it could take us the rest of this week, if not two, to make it through this shipment.”

She flashed him a broad smile. A beautiful smile.

“Are you saying you’re willing to grin and bear it?”

“You know me too well already.” A soft laugh escaped before she returned her attention to the computer screen.

In fact, he knew nothing much about her. And it was best to keep things that way. Her back to him, her shiny black hair hung past her shoulders. Was it possible to get to know her better without compromising all he’d worked for?

By Wednesday, they’d cataloged at least half the first crate he’d opened and placed the items in a climate-controlled storage room. Once they’d secured the artifacts, Brandon was ready to stop for the day; but he remembered the box of special items that had arrived earlier that morning. He mulled over whether he should open it now or wait for tomorrow.

Amber looked tired as she waited for his instructions. Considering it was nearly five o’clock, he should send her home; but he wanted her company if only for a bit longer.

He popped the crate open and dug through the packing. “Aha.”

“What is it?” Amber was at his side, looking anxiously into the crate.

He liked that she seemed to always be ready for more. And he liked the feeling of her next to him, working with him.

Gently, he removed the shoe-sized box from the crate. Donning his gloves again, he pulled a beautiful pot from the foam-lined box. “This is one of the most valuable items in this exhibit. Here, you can hold it.”

She pulled on her gloves, too, and took it from him, cradling yet another piece of pottery in her hands—but one of great value.

Looking at him, her golden eyes were wide and searching. In them he saw the usual admiration typical of a protégé, but there was something else. What was it?

Before he could react, the artifact slipped from her hands. Falling to the floor, it shattered. Colorful shards of clay pottery lay spread across the floor.

M
ortified, Amber stood frozen, staring at the floor. Broken pieces of pottery lay at her feet. Shock resounded through her bones. Seconds ticked by as her mind grappled with what happened.

Struggling to breathe, she finally lifted her gaze to meet Dr. Selman’s. His expression reflected her own—one of dismay.

“Dr. Selman…” Her words came out strained. “I…I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Amber turned her back on him and moved to the table where she’d spent most of the day. Knees shaking, she leaned against it for support.

Her eyes burned. Somehow she had to compose herself, be professional. Standing tall, she drew in a breath but it was too late. She couldn’t face Dr. Selman. What would she see in his eyes? A stern expression? Would she hear reproof? What if he released her as an intern?

Hands squeezed her arms then gently turned her.

He pulled her to him, tucking her gently against his shoulder. “It was just a silly clay pot.”

What? He didn’t mean that, did he? What was he doing, holding her like this? It felt…nice. Suddenly she remembered crying in his arms the night she’d been hurt, she remembered how she felt then—safe. But this wasn’t right. She couldn’t—no, shouldn’t—get too comfortable.

Finally, he released her and she peered into his eyes, still wary of what she’d find there. Concern flooded his gaze. He squeezed her arms again. “Amber. Are you all right?”

What could she say—that she felt much better after he’d held and comforted her? She frowned. “Of course I’m not. How could I be?”

“Yes…” Dr. Selman quirked a brow. Releasing her, he pressed his clasped hands to his mouth as he looked at the scattered pieces on the floor. Dropping his hands to his side, he continued. “These things happen. You’re not the first person to drop an artifact.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

His attention came back to her. She’d never fallen under such scrutiny before. He opened his mouth to speak, then without saying a word, closed it again as he began pacing, careful to avoid the shattered pot. What was going through that mind of his?

As he paced, she couldn’t help but think about the way he’d held her. Strong, yet gentle. She shouldn’t feel anything for this man. She hardly knew him. But there it was, she cared deeply for him. And her attraction to him? She shouldn’t even think about it. The way he’d held her—could he possibly feel the same way?

A nervous excitement took hold, causing her jaw to quiver. Her knees trembled and once again, she used the work table for support.

At that moment, Dr. Selman looked directly into her eyes. “Miss McKinsey.”

Oh no. He’d used her last name. This was it.

He cleared his throat. “Amber…I’ve been troubled since that night I took you home. I can’t help but believe there’s something more going on, and that’s why you’re on edge. Why else would you react the way you did over the shattered artifact?”

“Why wouldn’t I be upset? You just explained to me how important it was; then I let it slip from my fingers.”

With a slight shake to his head, he averted his gaze.

“You don’t believe me.”

Pursing his lips, he looked at her. “It’s none of my business. Not really.”

Amber blew out a breath. Had she allowed her secret to burden her so much, that she’d overreacted? Dr. Selman certainly seemed to think so.

He strolled closer. “Amber, please, I want to help if I can.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do. Besides, it’s not something I like to share.”

“I understand.” He nodded and left her for the broom closet. “I’d better clean up this mess.”

He returned with the broom but set it aside. “How about I share a secret with
you?”
He winked then crouched to carefully retrieve the larger pieces. “The artifact you dropped was only a replica.”

A replica?
“You mean it wasn’t even real? Then why did you let me think it was? And what about the artifacts we cataloged today?”

“It wasn’t my intention to deceive you. I simply wanted to find out if, after handling the genuine items today, you could tell the difference. Your reaction was answer enough.”

Still, he could have told her afterward.

“Amber.”

She tugged her gaze from the pottery on the floor to his regret-filled eyes.

“I had planned to tell you. But for the time being, please keep the existence of the replicas to yourself, all right?”

She nodded, thinking about the secret she kept from him. He’d just shared one with her. Then…she would share hers with him. Like he’d used the replica, she would use her news to determine if he was genuine and worth the growing affection for him she harbored.

“I give.”

Dr. Selman stopped sweeping and met her gaze. “Okay?”

Once she’d told him her secret, she suspected he would look at her differently. Everyone always did. “It’s my brother. He recently got out of prison. He knows where I live and work.”
And I don’t want to see him again
.

Utterly speechless, Brandon took a step back and absorbed the words slowly. She had a brother who’d spent time in prison? And worse—he’d located Amber, who apparently didn’t want contact with him. Brandon had asked, hadn’t he? Offered to help if he could. He’d seen enough in his own life that he’d been arrogant in thinking she could throw nothing at him he hadn’t experienced himself.