Timeless (25 page)

The violent promise she read in Rob’s taut features made her shiver.

*****

Quinn couldn’t remember ever being so tired. His muscles trembled like jelly, and his head seemed full of wool. The two men lay on either side of him in the narrow bunk. Looking at their scruffy beards and grayish undergarments he was grateful odors were impossible to smell in the environment. One muscular arm tightened around him. “Don’t get any ideas, lads,” he said. Hell, at least he was able to talk more clearly, and he could feel his hands and feet again.

Craig Drummond laughed. “I don’t know about John, but you’re safe from me. I like my partners without a beard and a little less hair everywhere else, too.”

“The same could be true for the two of you,” Quinn quipped. He struggled to keep his eyes open but it was a losing battle. His body had exhausted itself trying to stay warm. “I’m a bit tired, lads. Think I’ll take another wee nap.”

“That might be a good idea, Quinn,” John Murray said, his tone holding a note of studied casualness.

They looked out for him, just as he would have any of them. The team had worked together for four years. They were an extended family. “I’m all right. Just a bit tired,” he said. His eyes drifted closed.

*****

Coira beckoned to him and he followed. The moon touched the leaves of the trees with silver and the grass sparkled with beads of dew.

“Where are we going, lass?”

“To the stones. ‘Tis not just a place of death, Braden, but one of healing as well.”

He limped forward not to follow but to stop her. “’Tis not a place I treasure as you do, Coira.”

“You do not have to treasure it to believe.” She turned to look up at him. Moonlight traced her profile with gold and threw her dark eyes into shadow. “Do you believe in me, Braden?”

His gaze shifted to the dark indistinct shape of
Eilean Maolruibhe
in the center of the loch. Bryce’s tiny grave lay there. His son was there, alone in the cold ground.   Grief and anger clogged his throat. “You did not save our child.” His voice sounded harsh, his tone accusing.

She caught her breath and put out a hand as though seeking support. “I would have died in his stead.”

“But you didn’t.” He strode forward, the pain in his thigh grinding with each step. He grasped her upper arms, and for the first time he made no attempt to temper his strength. “Damn you and your beliefs.” He shook her until her head snapped back and her shawl tumbled from her shoulders to the ground. “’Tis this place you worship, ‘tis the teachings you follow that caused this. ‘Tis a punishment from God.”

“Nay!” She cried out. “Our son was strong, perfect in every way. Father Nathrach said so himself when he baptized him after the birth.”

A chill touched Braden’s skin as fear for her coursed through him. “The priest was here?”

“Aye. I had labored so long and had so little strength left, Ross thought I might die and called him to me.”

“Bryce lay in the cradle you made for him next to my bed. I was so tired after the birth. He was well and breathing when I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke, ‘twas to find him so still, so cold. His lips were gray.” A sob shook her and she gripped his leather tunic in both hands. “Ross said he must have choked or quit breathing.”

Coira would have known had it been going to happen naturally. Ross, Nathrach, which one had harmed their child?

Tears spilled down her face glittering in the dim light. “‘Tis my fault for not seeing it before. If I can see what lies ahead, why could I not protect my babe? Why could I not save him?”

The raw sound of her voice, the way her body bowed in pain, drained his anger, leaving only grief gripping his throat, crushing his chest.

He was so weary of death. He had seen so much of it on the battlefield.

He drew Coira against him. Held her tightly.

She clung to him. “Dinna hate me, Braden. I canna bear it.”

A ragged sob broke from him. “I dinna hate you, Coira. I love you.”

“Quinn—Quinn,” a high-pitched voice called to him. His lids sluggish, he opened his eyes to look up at Struthers. He was alone in his bunk. He looked about for the other men. Struthers and Bruce were the only men in the system. The others were on their dive.

“Are you in pain?” Struthers asked.

“No,” he swallowed back the grief that lingered and raised his hand, bruised bluish-purple, and swollen. He eyed the injury. It hurt like a bitch.

“You were murmuring in your sleep.”

Quinn wiped his face with his good hand to find his eyes wet with tears.

“Will the com phone reach the bunk?” he asked.

“Aye, I think.” Struthers reached for the heavy black phone mounted on the wall just above the bunk and handed it to him.

“Topside, This is Quinn.”

“’Tis good to hear you, brother.” Logan said on the other end of the phone. “How are you feelin’?”

“I’ll live. I may have broken some bones in my hand. Rob will have to take my place inside the system.”

“Aye—he’s already in the chamber.”

“Good.” He hesitated. They didn’t use the COM phone inside the system for private conversations. But then none of the other men were in such a situation. Is—Regan about?”

“No. Her supervisor called her back to the site. I can send someone for her.”

“Aye, I need to speak with her.”

“I’ll send Gordon to fetch her.”

“All right.” He handed the phone back to Struthers.

“You saved my life today,” he said. “You and the others, but mostly you.”

“You’ve done the same for me, Quinn.”

“Aye.” Quinn smiled. “I’m glad ‘twas you who was with me, since you had a debt to repay.”

Struthers grinned. “We’re even until next time.”

“Let’s both hope there isn’t one.”

The phone rang and Struthers reached for it. After only a moment he passed it to Quinn.

“How are you?“ The hesitancy in her tone had him smiling, for he had never seen Regan hesitant about anything.

“When I get out of the system—I think we need to talk.”

“All right.” The caution in her tone remained but she was relaxing. “How are you feeling?”

“Alive, warmer. There are some things I need to tell you, lass.”

“About?” she asked.

“About Bryce.”

“Coira’s baby?”

She knew about whom he was talking. She hadn’t mentioned the bairn’s name to him. Jesus. It was really happening. They were really sharing dreams.

“Quinn—” Her voice shook. So she too understood the implications.

“Don’t cry, lass.”

“It’s just—You believe me, don’t you?”

Coira’s words came back to him and he winced. Quinn rested the back of his injured hand against his forehead, then caught back an oath as pain shot through it.

“Does anyone else know about this?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good. Have a care for yourself until I get out. Don’t take any chances.”

“I won’t.”

“You could wander by tomorrow at teatime and check in with me, if you would. I’ll be decompressing to get out of the system.”

“All right—I will.”

“Very good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Quinn handed the phone back to Struthers. The man returned in a second, a frown working its way across his face.

“You haven’t gotten that American lass in trouble, have you now?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. And I don’t intend to.”

Now if she’d just stay out of trouble on her own.

CHAPTER 23

Regan stood with Hannah at the mouth of the dock and watched as three men worked to hook the crane’s cable to the webbing still encasing the stone. Several steel cables girded the stone as well. The men stood back, and one raised a hand to wave to the operator. The bass rumble of the crane’s engines and the smell of diesel exhaust tainted the air. The steel cable tautened and vibrated as it took the full weight of the twenty-ton stone and raised it in the air. The lintel spun slowly as the crane lifted it above the cofferdam and swung it over the steel barrier.

“Someone seems in a hurry to get the stones back in place,” Stephen said from beside them.

“Yes, they do,” Regan agreed. “They’re going to have to have some grounding supports to hold them in place.”

“That’s what those drills are for, and the steel rods.” He pointed to the machinery lying on the bed of a truck. “They’ll drill holes into the base stones and insert the rods. Then drill coinciding holes and slide the post stone down on top of them.”

Regan frowned. “And the first time they’re struck by lightning, as they were before, the metal may cause the stone to crack, and it may destroy one of the pillars.”

“Surely they’ve thought of that,” Hannah said.

God, she hoped so. To risk damaging such an important archaeological find would be criminal. And if that happened, she might never discover her connection to this place and the people in her visions.

“We’d best get back to work,” Hannah said.

With a groan, Regan turned to accompany her up the hill and around to the scaffold. Their steps echoed on the wooden planking as they walked down to their work area.

Gordon Murdock and Cameron Mac Kennon, two of Quinn’s divers, lowered the ROV into the cleared opening of the chamber for the second time in two days. Ronald Mc Fie sat at a small table set upon the platform constructed out to the hole. Before him were a computer monitor, a control panel, and a keyboard.

Everyone had their own duty, and Regan’s was to clean the stones. But—it irked her that she wasn’t among those witnessing the video feed of Noggie’s sweep through the chamber. God, what she wouldn’t do to be over there watching the monitor. The wooden shelves would have crumbled to pulp. But since debris had covered the chamber, there might be other artifacts still viable.

Coira had said she kept her potions there. What kind of herbs and tinctures, poultices and tonics would they find? Would the containers still hold them, or would the water have diluted them and washed them away?

She had found the chamber. But had her trip out to the altar cost her the opportunity to see it? Her stomach sank at the thought, making her almost nauseous.

Regan turned her attention to cleaning the stone and fought the urge to look over her shoulder every few minutes. Quinn would be out of the SAT system tomorrow, and after he’d had his hand ex-rayed they’d have time to talk.

Her compulsion to be closer to him when they were together grew stronger each time they talked. His resemblance to Braden didn’t matter anymore. Quinn’s forceful personality, his intelligence, and his temper had pushed Braden’s image aside. Beneath his gruff exterior, he cared deeply about things. Would she be one of them? Or would he continue to keep his distance? And why did he do so? Something more held him back than just his confusion about Coira and her.

She scrubbed harder at a stubborn section of algae-stained stone. Since witnessing Nicodemus’s indifference to Quinn’s situation, something had happened she’d have never dreamed could. She’d lost some of her enthusiasm for working on the dig.

Hannah touched her shoulder. “Dr. Fraser is motioning for you.”

Regan turned to look toward the group clustered about the chamber. Dr. Fraser motioned for her. “Come join us, Miss Stanhope.”

Her heartbeat raced as she removed her gloves.

“I’ll rinse your work area,” Hannah offered.

“Thanks, Hannah.” Her breathing quickened. It was bound to be something minor. ”They’ve probably recovered the glove I lost and want to return it.”

“Maybe since you found the chamber, he’s decided to let you watch their progress.”

She flashed Hannah a look. “That’s doubtful. You didn’t see how angry he was with me for going out to the altar.”

As she strode down the scaffold to where the group stood, she studied the body language of the team. Had they discovered something unusual? The men’s attention focused on the monitors, but their expressions gave nothing away.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Fraser?” she asked as she reached him.

“Come look at the stairs and the structure of the chamber,” he invited.

Stunned, Regan stared at him a moment before moving toward the computer screen on the table.

“We’re about to bring Noggie up. We’ve videoed the entire chamber,” Gordon said.

“Already?” She focused on the computer screen as the video camera on the RV panned over the flight of fourteen or so stairs to the surface of the chamber. The water appeared cloudy and gray. The rough-hewn steps looked narrow and rough.

“We’ll replay the video so you can view a little more of the chamber as soon as the RV surfaces,” Dr. Fraser said.

Regan’s tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth.

“Tomorrow we’ll see how good your cave diving skills are.”

Her heartbeat raced. He was actually going to let her dive tomorrow. “Really?”

“Dr. Arturo,” he motioned to the man standing at the table, “has to study the tapes further as well, but the structure of the chamber appears to be stable. If he deems it safe, we’ll send you down tomorrow with one of the divers to take a few samples and measurements before we start draining the water from the chamber.”

Regan frowned. Once the pumps started, it would kick up the whole top layer of mud and they might lose a layer of pollen, seeds, herbs, and whatever else was there. She’d have to take numerous samples in order to encourage them to wait, just in case.

“We’ve discovered a few artifacts.”

“Artifacts?” Regan asked.

“We have some pottery that actually looks to be in pretty good condition. But of course, we won’t know until we’ve brought it up. I’d like one sample so we can see what shape the rest may be in before we drain it and expose it to the air.”

She nodded.

“I thought since you discovered the chamber, I’d allow you the honor of breaching it first, ahead of the rest of us.”

Regan caught her breath, and grinned as excitement leaped through her. “Thank you, sir,” she breathed.

Dr. Fraser smiled.

“After the place is drained, I’ve asked Dr. Malone to move you to that location to work.”

Would she still have time to decipher the Ogham on the stones? And what would she discover about Coira and Braden inside the chamber?