Heart of Gold

by J. R. Ward

  4

  ON TUESDAY, Carter pulled up in front of the Farrell mansion feeling conflicted. She’d spent the previous two nights staring into the darkness and seeing Nick Farrell’s face. The lack of sleep and a curious, aching frustration were both making her cranky.

  It wasn’t the usual way she kicked off a dig. Most of the time, she’d be so excited to get started she could barely stand it.

  Stepping from the Jeep, Carter wondered whether she had to check in with someone before she headed up the trail. She was anxious to establish camp and knew from experience that lugging her supplies and equipment was going to take most of the day. Doing a meet-and-greet with the Farrell household would only slow her down.

  Liar.

  She knew the real reason she was so eager to get going, and it didn’t have anything to do with tents or shovels. She had a strong desire to avoid Nick Farrell. Their two previous encounters had established a disturbing trend. Each time, he got further under her skin, and her unwanted attraction to him seemed to be getting stronger. One more meeting and she could end up doing something really ludicrous. Like kissing the man.

  Just then, Cort leapt out of the front door. Even though his jagged black hair was standing at stiff attention, he was wearing a fresh pair of khaki shorts and a white polo shirt. The look was a cross between post-modern Goth and the British Sloane Ranger set. His smile was all-American track star.

  The kid was going to be a lady-killer just like his uncle, she decided, waving at him.

  “I saw you drive up and told Uncle Nick you’re here. He’s on the phone, as usual, and is gonna be for a while. Hey, you need some help with all that?”

  Carter laughed as she opened the rear. “Does a drowning man need a life jacket?”

  “You know what you want?”

  “A gondola?”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  With a practiced hand, she began unloading, stacking duffel bags and crates on top of one another. As the pile grew beside the car, it looked more overwhelming than it had when it was still packed inside.

  Minutes later, she heard a roar and saw Cort racing over on a four-wheeler.

  “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she exclaimed, seeing the task become exponentially more manageable and the chances of not tangling with the elder Farrell improve. Hopefully, they could get her stuff out of the man’s front yard before he ended his call.

  “There’s an access road that hooks into the back trail,” Cort explained. “I can get pretty close to the site and carry the stuff the rest of the way.”

  “You are heaven-sent!”

  As Carter turned back to the car, she caught a glowing smile on the teenager’s face. It was sweet of him to be so helpful, she thought.

  Using bungee cords, they secured a load on the back rack of the four-wheeler and Cort ran it up the mountain, dropped it off, and returned. In just over an hour, the car was empty and Carter was further along than she’d expected to be by the middle of the day. Nick hadn’t shown his face either and she felt as though a small victory was in reach when the last load was anchored on the machine. Quickly, she changed into hiking boots, twisted her hair into a ball, and tugged a baseball hat over it. Then she strapped on a full pack that weighed sixty pounds.

  “That’s real heavy,” Cort commented with awe. “Shouldn’t we take it up on the four-wheeler?”

  “I’m fine. Hauling this on a separate trip would be a waste of gas.”

  “Are you sure I can’t—”

  The kitchen’s screen door clapped shut and both of them turned to see Nick come out of the mansion. Carter smothered a curse. She’d been so close.

  “That’s quite a load you’ve been moving,” he drawled.

  She watched as a laconic smile lifted his lips and had to tell herself not to look away quickly. He was even more attractive than she remembered, unfortunately. Dressed in tennis whites with a bag of rackets slung over his shoulder, he looked tan and virile. His arms were imposingly strong and so were the muscles in his legs. She was a little surprised at how athletic he seemed to be.

  She wondered what he looked like in swimming trunks and then wanted to kick herself.

  To her chagrin, Nick didn’t stop until he was standing two feet from her. She tried to inch away but found the Jeep’s rear bumper pressed up against the backs of her legs. With him so close, she could smell that tangy aftershave, and she noticed he was freshly shaved.

  “Do you always bring this much stuff?” he asked with a teasing light in his eye. “Looks like enough for an army. You planning on invading Canada in your spare time?”

  She fought the urge to smile back at him. “It’s my standard gear and supplies, and there’ll be more when the rest of my team arrive.”

  “More? Hard to imagine.”

  “I’m very thorough.”

  “Or a consummate overpacker.”

  Cort came to her defense with a defiant tone. “She’s a professional. She needs these things.”

  Nick checked his watch, growing grave when he looked at his nephew. “Are you heading up the mountain again?”

  “She needs me.”

  “Then I think you better go inside first.”

  “But I—”

  An arched eyebrow cut the kid off. Something serious passed between the two.

  “Meet you up there?” Cort finally grumbled to her.

  After she nodded, he ran into the house and Nick let out a frustrated breath. “I swear that kid would fight with me over which way is up.”

  Carter wasn’t sure he wanted a response from her. He appeared preoccupied with private thoughts, but then he looked over at her and she felt compelled to respond.

  “He’s at a difficult age,” she offered gingerly, unsure of what his reaction would be to any comment she made. “Is he any better with his parents?”

  “No.” Pain flared in Nick’s eyes only to be covered quickly with a cool mask. Catching a glimpse of the emotion, Carter stared at him curiously. She was trying to figure out a way to ask him more about Cort but then the kid reappeared.

  Striding across the lawn with his head set at a high angle, he ignored his uncle. “I’ll run up the last load if you’re sure you’d rather walk with the pack.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be fine on the trail.”

  “See you there.”

  When Carter turned back to Nick, his face was totally unreadable and, as interested as she was, she didn’t pursue the conversation about his nephew.

  “You won’t see me for the next few days,” she said. “I’ll be setting up camp, doing some surveying, and staking out the site. After my team arrives, and we’ve done some real work, I’ll come back down to report.”

  His expression lost its tension and he smiled at her. “On the contrary, I think we’ll be seeing plenty of each other.”

  “Oh no, we won’t.” Carter shook her head vigorously. “I’m not going to waste time coming down the mountain just to tell you where I pitched my tent and what I’m having for dinner.”

  His dimple got bigger. “You forget, I know my way up the trail very well. I also have a vast curiosity about the eating habits of archaeologists. No telling how many times I’ll feel compelled to come up for a visit.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  She racked her brain for a response that wouldn’t reveal anything. “I’m a professional and my work isn’t a spectator sport.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” His eyes passed over the backpack. “By the way, are you still insisting on sleeping in the woods? We have plenty of space down here, not to mention running water.”

  Nick laughed at her shake of the head.

  “If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, “I’d say you want to avoid me.”

  His eyes became hooded and a speculative, stunning light seeped out from under the lids.

  Dragging herself from the sensual pull, she said quickly, “I’m used to wor
king without interference.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re too independent?”

  “All the time.” She turned to go.

  “I’ll see you later today.”

  “Do whatever you want,” she muttered.

  “All the time, Carter Wessex. I do that always.”

  When Carter reached the clearing that faced the lake, she was glad she’d made the climb. The effort of hoofing it up the mountain with a heavy weight strapped on her back had released some of her frustrations. She leaned against a rock and took a moment to catch her breath. Getting pushed to the physical limit had a way of prioritizing things. She’d been so distracted by the necessity of drawing air into her lungs, she’d almost forgotten about him.

  As she scanned the lake, taking in its gleaming reflection of the sky and sun, she was surprised to find herself once more on Farrell’s mountain. She’d been so sure, as she’d pulled away from the mansion days ago, that her first visit was going to be her last.

  With a final, deep inhale, she headed through the trees to search for Cort and found him halfway between the big view and the circle of rocks. He was coming from the opposite direction, duffel bags hanging off him like he was a bellman’s trolley. By the size of the mound that was already on the ground, she could tell he’d made a lot of trips from wherever the four-wheeler had been parked.

  “I’m almost finished.” He dropped his load. “I think this’ll be the best place for you to camp. There’s a stream down to the right and you’re close to the site, but I can move these anywhere you like.”

  Carter inspected the flat stretch of ground nestled in a protected glen of pines.

  “You picked the perfect place.”

  Cort’s eyes lit up with pride. “I’ll be right back.”

  While the sounds of him walking through the woods diminished, Carter peeled off her pack and surveyed the area. She was eager to get at the dig site, but she knew she’d appreciate having an established camp when night fell. By the time Cort came back with the last bundles, she’d set up her tent and was gathering rocks to make a secure fire pit. Even though she’d brought a butane-fueled hot plate and a portable grill, the fire would be a welcome balm against cool evenings.

  Together, she and Cort strung up two dark green tarps, one to serve as the mess tent and the other to cover the office area. Under each, they erected folding tables and chairs and then consolidated the food hampers and her equipment appropriately. The rest of the afternoon was spent unpacking and getting things ready for the digging to start. As they worked, Cort was fascinated by the variety of shovels, brushes, and lablike vials she’d brought up to the mountain.

  “What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found?” he asked, inspecting a wooden-handled trowel.

  Carter looked up from the printer she was attaching to a portable generator.

  “I don’t really have a favorite. Everything is amazing to me. Sometimes I just sit with a find in my hands, trying to imagine what life was like for a minuteman in the colonial army or his wife and family. It’s all just so astounding.”

  “Yeah, sure. But what about gold statues and rubies and—”

  “You mean the Indiana Jones stuff?”

  Cort nodded with enthusiasm.

  “I hate to crush your burgeoning interest in the field, but that’s the movies. Real archaeology is about painstaking, methodical work and slow, steady progress. It’s a lot of hard labor, and sometimes you come up with nothing.” She grinned as his expression grew less fervent. “Don’t look so disappointed. We also don’t have poison darts being shot at us and to my knowledge no one’s face has ever melted when they’ve taken the lid off something they’ve dug up.”

  “So you haven’t uncovered any tombs or secret catacombs?”

  “Nope. And I don’t own any bullwhips or sharp-looking fedoras either. But I love what I do.”

  “I guess that’s cool.” He glanced over her shoulder as she started unpacking journals and books. “What’s all this for?”

  “Daily logs for recording each digger’s work and forms for describing any finds. Some reference materials, mapping paper to sketch out the site. We’ve also got the requisite cross-referencing papers to document the relationship between and among the finds. Here’s a copy of Farnsworth’s journal.”

  Cort took it and flipped through the pages, not reading them.

  She held up another book, regarding it curiously. “And this is a Fodor’s guide to Budapest, although how it got in here I have no idea.”

  “I didn’t think there’d be so much stuff that looks like homework,” he muttered.

  “We don’t call the office tent Papercut Central because it’s a barrel of laughs.”

  Cort grinned. “So who else is on your team?”

  “Buddy Swift and his daughter, Ellie. I’ll bet you two will get along. She’s your age.”

  Cort frowned. “How old is she?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “She’s younger than I am. I’m sixteen.” There was a stern note to his voice.

  “Oh, sorry.” Carter hid her smile. “They’re coming on Saturday. And even with the age difference, I think you’ll like Ellie. She’s funny and very smart.”

  He shrugged offhandedly. “Yeah, sure. Hey, are you going to be okay up here all alone until then?”

  “Absolutely. I’m used to camping by myself.”

  “But there are dangerous things in these woods and it’s almost a week. Maybe you should stay at our house.” He looked worried for her, his brows drawn in arches over his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe I should stay up here with you.”

  Carter was about to answer cavalierly when she caught the expression on his face. It was full of hopeful warmth.

  Uh-oh, she thought, as she began to see his attentiveness in a different light.

  She smiled at him gently. “That’s very kind of you but I’m looking forward to some time by myself.”

  “Oh. But I could come up during the day, though. You’ll need help before your team gets here, right?”

  “I’m sure you have other things to do.” She rolled up an empty duffel and crammed it into a vacant crate.

  “I would have other stuff, if I was allowed to have a life,” he grumbled. “I wanted to go cross-country or hiking this summer but my uncle gets his kicks out of torturing me.”

  “Well, it’s not going to be fun and games up here. I’m going to be working nonstop.”

  “That’s okay. I just want to be with—up here.”

  Carter fell silent, unsure what to do as she glanced in his direction. The kid’s eyes were showing the aching vulnerability that came with young crushes, and she felt at a loss. She hoped that whatever he had for her was merely the amorous equivalent of a twenty-four-hour virus. An intense case of infatuation that he’d get over quickly. She didn’t want him to get hurt.

  “Is it that you don’t want me here?” His voice wavered.

  “It’s not that, but—”

  “Great! I’ll come every morning. Early.”

  Carter shook her head ruefully and decided it was too bad they didn’t have some kind of over-the-counter that could clear up puppy love. A decongestant for fantasies.

  “All right,” she said. “But I’m going to put you to work. And don’t come before eight. I’m really ugly until I’ve had my coffee.”

  “I’ll bet that’s not true.” The words were blurted out as his eyes skipped away from her.

  “Cort,” she began softly. She wasn’t sure where she was going to go with it but she needed to set some boundaries.

  “What?” he asked with an optimistic tone.

  The sound of snapping twigs turned their heads and they both stiffened as Nick came out of the woods. He was wearing hiking boots and shorts and had a maroon sweatshirt tied around his waist. Carter looked away from him quickly and concentrated instead on Cort. As the kid’s eyes turned resentful, she decided the intrusion was like stepping out
of quicksand and into the path of a stampede. Not an improvement, just a change in perils.

  “I’ve been waiting anxiously for that tent-staking report,” Nick said smoothly to Carter.

  She felt her skin flush.

  “I think I should stay up here with her,” Cort interjected with force. “At least until the others come.”

  Nick’s eyebrow arched.

  “She needs someone to protect her.”

  His uncle laughed. “Based on my limited experience with Ms. Wessex, somehow I doubt that.”

  “She shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Then she should come down to the house. You, however, are not going to stay up here with her.”

  “Why not?”

  As anger and frustration flared between the two, Nick looked up to the sky. “Let’s not do this.”

  “Tell me why!”

  “Carter, is there anything you need that you don’t have?” Nick asked pointedly.

  “I want you to tell me why!” the kid shouted.

  “Cort, I’m not going to do this now.”

  “Don’t brush me off.”

  “I’m not brushing you off.”

  “The hell you aren’t. Why don’t you say what you’re really thinking.”

  Nick took a deep breath and wrenched a hand through his hair.

  “Fine. I’m thinking that we should change the subject. It’s getting late and we should go down for dinner.”

  “You are such a liar! I’m not going anywhere until you—”

  “That’s enough,” Nick said darkly. “You’re excused.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “You’re acting like one.”

  “I am not!”

  “Throwing a temper tantrum isn’t adult behavior. And if Ms. Wessex needs anyone to protect her, it wouldn’t be a sixteen-year-old who behaves like a toddler, would it?”

  Carter gasped as Cort flushed and ran away.

  Nick cursed under his breath.

  “What did you do that for?” she demanded angrily.

  He didn’t respond.

  “I asked you a question. Why were you so mean to him?”

  “You think that was mean?”

  “No, you’re a real self-esteem builder.” Her voice was sarcastic. “That kid busted his ass up and down this mountain for me. I accomplished more in an afternoon with his help than I could have alone in two days and you just took a hunk out of him.”