Miranda's Viking

by Maggie Shayne

  "It was Rolf Magnusson who located the ship. Fletcher Travis and I knew it, and that is why Erwin Saunders tried to kill us all. Jeff Morsi was Erwin's accomplice in all of this. Erwin shot him because he didn't want to share the credit… or the spoils."

  "She's lying!" Saunders's hoarse cry was so obviously desperate that few in the room gave it heed. Instead, questions were shouted at Miranda, who waved them aside.

  "I'm sorry. No questions. I promise the details will be forthcoming."

  She stepped down amid shouted questions and made her way toward Rolf, who waited to fold her into his arms. He swelled with pride for her strength and her courage, and yet as he saw the way the people in the room sought her attention, his heart grew heavy.

  Truly his time with Miranda had come to an end. No longer would she need his strength, for it seemed she had found her own. Her goal would be reached with this latest adventure. She would be as sought after as Saunders had hoped to become due to this discovery. Rolf had remained long enough to assist her in finding the ship and the treasure. She didn't need him any longer. It was time, past time, for Rolf to make his own way in this world.

  "Which offer will you accept?"

  Miranda replaced the receiver and faced Rolf. He carried two cups of steaming cocoa. He really did have a weakness for chocolate, she thought idly. He'd been oddly distant since they'd returned three days ago. Not that there had been much chance to be otherwise. Reporters had hounded their steps. The telephone had rung off the hook, one call with word that Paul Potter and the rest of the shiftless crew Saunders had hired had been located and were in custody. Offers from the most prestigious universities in the country had been pouring in steadily. And not just for her. Many sought the expertise of Rolf Magnusson, the man who'd used some sixth sense, as far as they could tell, to find the sunken ship and then the treasure within the cave. He'd volunteered that information, observing the treasure had never really been his to hold.

  "What do you think I should do?"

  He shrugged, handed her a cup and took a seat opposite her. He stared into the crackling fire on the hearth. "You have reached your goal. You are the most sought after, the best, as you said you wished to be. The choice is yours, astín mín."

  She shook her head. He was her choice. But how could she make him see that? "Those were more my father's dreams than my own." She drew a deep breath and sighed. "I don't want to be the head of any department. I don't want to be tied down to a classroom and a university and a desk. It would bore me, after all we've been through." He studied her in silence. "Rolf, you've had offers, too. You have a great deal of knowledge, and people would like for you to share it."

  "Nei. I, too, would soon grow bored with it. Fear not for me, astín mín. I will find my way in this world of yours. These jobs they offer, there are too many complications. They wish to know where I came upon my knowledge of the past."

  "You are self-taught. You've proven your abilities. No one will make too much fuss."

  "I am not a citizen of your country. There are laws. How will I explain my past, or seeming lack of one? No, it will be easier to find a simple job, to earn my way with my hands. I am strong. I will manage."

  "There are ways around the laws, Rolf." She straightened her spine and lifted her chin as she gathered her courage. "We could—" She broke off as the doorbell sounded. Angrily she set her mug aside and went to answer it. She was growing more frustrated by the minute. The man seemed determined to leave her, and that was not something she thought she could bear.

  Harrison Kirk, Beaumont's Dean, came in slowly and patted Miranda's shoulder with one hand as he shook the other. He approached Rolf and greeted him warmly. "Sorry to intrude. I know it's been hectic."

  "It's all right, Harry. Come in. Cocoa?"

  He held up a hand. "No, thank you. I just wanted to check in, see if you've decided what to do."

  She turned, studied Rolf's expectant face. Astín mín, the words he used more and more often when he addressed her, echoed in her ears. Last night she'd looked them up in her Islensk dictionary. My love. Did he toss such endearments around lightly, or did he mean it?

  Time to find out.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. I'm turning down all offers, yours included."

  Rolf frowned until his pale golden brows met over his. Arctic blue eyes.

  "Turning… Miranda, dear, what are you saying?"

  "I don't want to tie myself down, Harry. I can't be head of anyone's department. I want to be in the field, with my hands in the dirt and the excitement in my heart." She tore her gaze from Rolf's surprised one and faced Harry squarely. "If Beaumont will continue funding my expeditions, I'll stay on for now. But on a project-by-project basis."

  Harry looked shocked. "You can't be serious. Do you know what you're turning down?"

  "I'll manage. My father had begun work on a book, you know. The life story of the man they called the Plague of the North. I think I'll finish it." She glanced up at the stunned dean and smiled, feeling free and unfettered for the first time since… since that night she'd spent with Rolf in the little boat with nothing between the two of them and the sea and the wind. "Well, Harry? What do you say? We could begin with an excavation of a site right here in Maine, proving Leif Eriksson's explorations extended much farther south than previously believed."

  Harrison's eyes widened and took on an excited gleam. "You… you are serious, aren't you? You want to… to freelance?" He said the word as if it were distasteful, then bit his lip. "You really think you can find evidence of Norsemen in Maine?"

  "Rolf can. Of course you realize we're a team now. I can't work without him."

  "You can't?" Harrison seemed confused, but Miranda ignored him, her gaze returning to Rolf's.

  "No, I can't. I can't work without him… I don't think… I could live without him."

  Rolf rose slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Miranda, consider your words. I cannot take second place to your work, much as I would like to do so."

  Miranda stepped forward until she could reach up and run her palm down the side of his face. "I would never ask you to, my love," she replied softly. "I love my work, but it's only a shadow compared to the way I love you."

  Harrison Kirk stepped awkwardly back, gripped the doorknob, cleared his throat, shook his head. "I'll, um, come back another…" He gave it up and ducked outside, closing the door behind him.

  "You are giving up a great deal, Miranda."

  "No. I'm trying to keep what I want most in the world. Don't leave me, Rolf. Stay with me always. Be my…" She bit her lip and forced her gaze to hold his as she said it. "Be my husband."

  His smile was quick and brilliant. "This world of yours puzzles me always. Is this another new bit of progress, that a woman might propose marriage to a man?"

  She shrugged. "It's done, though not often." She slipped her arms around his neck. "What is your answer?"

  He stroked her hair away from her face with gentle fingers, "Pu ert unaŏfödur, astín mín, Miranda. Lovely Miranda with the courage of ten warriors and the beauty of a Valkyrie. I will care for you, cherish you, love you always I am a fortunate man, truly blessed by the gods, to have you as my wife."

  He bowed his head to kiss her deeply, with a fierce possessiveness in which she reveled. In his embrace, in his love, Miranda found that part of herself that had so long eluded her. She clung to it and silently vowed she would never let go.