Heart Of Gold (26 page)

There was
another reason she wanted to keep a level head. She'd remembered where she'd
heard of CommTrans, the company mentioned in the papers on his desk. The man
who owned it had accused Nick of falsifying financial documents. It had been
all over the news, to such an extent that even she, far away from the financial
hubs of the world, had read about the soured deal and the ongoing
investigation. Even though the drama had nothing to do with their relationship
directly, the idea that he'd misled someone deliberately stuck with her.

And there
was one other thing bothering her. Always in the back of her mind were Conrad
Lyst and the missing logs. The other morning Buddy had shown her a series of
footsteps in the soft earth. Tracing the path, they'd weaved their way through
the trees until they'd reached the back trail. There, like the wake of a small
army, were so many more of the prints that they blended together in places,
flattening the soil hard.

Ivan came
up the back way on occasion but he'd never leave those kind of footprints. She
and Buddy and the kids used only the front trail. And considering the
homogeneity of the tracks, it was doubtful the markings had been made by
curious tourists. It just had to be Lyst.

As soon
as they'd returned to camp, they'd both agreed the skeletons needed to be
removed from the mountain in the next few days. Although the gold was what Lyst
really cared about, there was no telling what he might do.

Neither
she nor Buddy were going to take any chances with the man.

Carter
pitched a shovelful of dirt into her bucket and noticed it was full. §he was
getting to her feet to empty it outside of the ring of stones when Nick stepped
into the clearing.

A flush
came over her body and she watched as the corners of his lips rose ever so
slightly. It was a special smile, meant only for her.

“If
this isn't a tribute to industry, I don't know what is.” He casually
walked across the site, but his eyes were on her. The others greeted him with
various hellos.

“I
didn't realize you'd made it this far,” he commented when he was standing
in front of her.

“Come
and look at this,” she said quickly, feeling awkward and excited by his
presence. She went over to a box that housed a few shards of pottery. “We
found these this morning.”

As she
put one of the pieces into his hands, her fingers touched the skin of his palm.
His smile deepened.

“How
old is it?” he asked as he examined the wedge of dull, baked clay.

“Over
a thousand years, perhaps.”

“Amazing.”

“This
has been a popular spot for people over the centuries. That fire pit has seen a
lot of things.”

Nick gave
the artifact back to her, stroking her wrist as he did. “Have you found
anything else from the Winship party?”

Distracted
by his touch, Carter stumbled over her words. “Er—no, but we've still got
a lot of digging to do.”

“And
there's no gold.”

“No
gold.”

He walked
over to where the fire pit had been before they'd dug it out. “How much
longer until you're finished?”

“Three
weeks or so.”

“Then
what happens?”

“I
get to see my wife again,” Buddy muttered.

Carter
caught the approval on Nick's face as her friend mentioned Jo-Jo. To her
relief, the two men had been getting along much better.

“As
soon as we're done, we hit the lab,” she replied. “There is going to
be a lot of analysis to do. Then we write up the whole dig along with any
conclusions we come to.”

Buddy put
his shovel down and got to his feet. “After that it's the rubber chicken
dinner circuit.”

“Making
presentations at various universities,” Carter amended, shooting him a
mock glare. “Depending on what we find, that can last a short time or
upward of a month or two.”

“Is
it a drag?” Nick asked.

“Hell
no,” Buddy said enthusiastically. “It's the closest thing we
archaeologists get to being rock stars.”

They
talked a little more about the dig and then Buddy and the kids took a break and
wandered back to camp for a cool drink. As soon as they were alone, Nick
wrapped his arms around Carter. She breathed in his scent, catching his tangy
aftershave.

“Hi,”
he said against her lips. “I've missed you.”

Closing her
eyes, she soaked in the feel of his body against hers. “You saw me last
night. Or do I have to remind you what we did under all that moonlight out on
the lake?”

He moved
against her. "You want to show me again?

His
tongue slid between her lips and she arched towards him. Sliding her hands
under his shirt, she stroked his skin until he groaned. The heat that flared
between them made her think of the stream's rushing water, of having him naked
with her in one of the pools.

She was
about to suggest going over to it when they heard Cort and Ellie's laughter.

Reluctantly,
they pulled apart.

“Too
bad we're not alone up here,” Nick said in a rough voice.

“I
was going to suggest hitting the stream.”

“We'll
have to remember that for later.”

The kids
came through the circle of boulders and looked much cooler as they ambled back
over to where they'd been digging. To Carter, the idea of settling back down to
work wasn't as attractive as it usually was. She was distracted by Nick and
what she wished they were doing together.

It sure
as hell didn't have anything to do with shovels.

“So
what's the technique here?” Nick asked, going over and picking hers up.

“You
ever plant anything?”

“Once.
It was some vicious gossip about a competitor to the WSJ. But the guy
started it.” He shot her a wink.

She
couldn't help but smile up at him. “I was thinking more like lily
bulbs.”

“Then
I'd have to say no.”

“Ever
play in a sandbox?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,
how about make a divot when you hit a golf ball?” She knew he was teasing
her.

“That'd
also be a no.”

“You
don't golf?”

“I
don't divot.”

Carter
laughed.

“God,
I love to see you smile,” he said softly as he leaned over to her.
“Among other things.”

Carter
snatched back her shovel and blushed. “Do you really want to learn how to
do this?”

“If
it means I can be with you, absolutely.”

“All
right then, get on your knees.”

“I
thought you'd never ask,” he drawled in a husky voice.

When
Buddy returned, she and Nick had their heads in the dirt, examining a set of
bones that appeared to be those of a deer.

“You
find the missing link?” Buddy said cheerfully as he came over.

“More
like what he had for dinner,” Carter murmured.

“You
having fun?” the man asked Nick.

“Absolutely.
I find it. . . absorbing.”

With a
glow, Carter realized he was looking at her. She avoided his eyes, trying not
to blow her cover around her team.

When they
went back to work, Nick whispered in her ear, “So when do I get to see you
again? Alone.”

She
glanced up, feeling a rush.

“Well,
I'm going over to Burlington a couple of days from now,” she said quietly.
“You could come with me—”

“I
don't know if I can wait that long.”

“Forty-eight
hours?”

“That's
two days.” he let out a groan.

“I
see corporeal delights haven't compromised your math skills.”

He
laughed. “I'll go with you to Vermont, but only if you promise to not keep
your hands to yourself.”

“I
think that can be arranged.”

Nick
reached out and stroked her cheek. The movement was lightning fast but
poignant.

“I
have to go. Business is waiting.” He got up and stretched.

Carter smiled
at him, sorry that he was leaving. “I'd hate to have dirt get in the way
of progress.”

“So
would my shareholders.”

With a
last lingering look at her, he disappeared into the woods.

* * *

On the
way down the mountain, Nick thought about how Carter could catch and hold him
with just her eyes. It wasn't simply because they were beautiful, though their
cobalt blue color was arresting. It was more the combination of strength and
vulnerability that got to him. And that, when unguarded, she looked at him with
an expression that made him feel like he could leap tall buildings in a single
bound.

He was
looking forward to the trip to Burlington like it was Christmas.

When he
entered the kitchen, he saw Gertie was up to her elbows in dough. She was
kneading the prenatal bread in a deep wooden bowl, and flour was pouching up in
puffs of white smoke as she punched and folded, punched and folded.

As he
used to do when he was a child, he leaned on a doorjamb, crossed his legs at
the ankles, and wiggled the tip of his boot.

“What
are you nervous about?” she asked.

“Who
said I'm nervous?”

“You're
waving that foot like it's a flag.”

He
stilled himself.

“I've
been spending a lot of time with Carter. I'm growing rather . .. fond of
her.” He couldn't believe he was actually saying the words.

“Yes,
I've noticed.” Gertie pushed the bowl away, draped a dishtowel over the
top, and washed her hands. “She's a good woman. What are you all beside
yourself for?”

Nick took
a deep breath. “I don't know.”

“Well,
I hope you keep on seeing her.” Gertie took her apron off, a gingham
affair that had been washed so many times, it was a pale pink. “By the
way, her father called today.”

Nick
stopped breathing. “What?”

“William
Wessex called.”

“How
did you know he was her father?”

“I
asked him because their last names are the same. He called to say he was coming
up this weekend and bringing someone with him. Said you were going to want to
see them. He seemed surprised to find out Carter was here.” Gertie
frowned.

“Did
he say anything else?”

“Just
that he wants to talk with you and he'd wait by the phone for your call.”
She looked at him strangely. “Are you okay?”

He nodded
and left for his study in a hurry. He was not going to have Wessex up to the house. No way in hell. He wasn't going to jeopardize his relationship with
Carter.

Nick had
known all along that he'd have to tell her about the business with her father.
And he was preparing to talk to her about it. He just wanted a little more time
to figure out how to broach the subject, to construct the words in such a way
so as to lessen the shock.

He was
sure about one thing. Having the man just show up was definitely not the way
Nick wanted it all to come out.

Sitting
down behind his desk, he dialed Wessex's private line."

“Wessex.” The man's voice was sharp.

“It's
Farrell.”

“Just
tell me,” the words were clipped short, “when were you going to
mention my daughter was on your mountain? Before or after I arrived?”

“Of
course I was going to let you know,” Nick answered evenly.

“How
bloody thoughtful of you.” There was real anger in Wessex's voice.

“Look,
I was going to tell you. Although, considering that she's here, I think we
should meet in New York.”

“Well,
it's too damn late. I invited Packert up to your house this weekend. We'll be
arriving on Friday.”

Nick's
throat closed on him. “No, you won't. And what the hell's going on? We're
not ready for the ambush yet.”

“Packert's
found out about our little side arrangement. He knows if you take control, he's
out of a job. He says either he meets with you or he's going to the press
again.”

“Screw
him. He's welcome to call every goddam reporter on the street,” Nick
growled. “He's got nothing to say to them.”

“Don't
be so sure about that. He's prepared to let the world know you and I are
skirting the antitrust laws. That we're double dealing.”

“He's
out of his mind!” Anger curled Nick's hand into a fist. “Everything
is perfectly legal. Does that guy have a death wish?”

“All
I can say is that he's got a loud voice when it comes to making accusations,
and you know how the reporters just love his sound bites. Even though
everything about the deal is legitimate, in the court of public opinion, it's
going to look bad. I don't want to take that kind of hit and neither do you.
Especially after last year.”

“I
swear to God, I'm going to crush that son of a bitch.” Nick pushed a hand
through his hair. “But tell him we'll meet in New York. We can do it at my
office. I'll fly down this weekend.”

“Fine.”
There was a long pause and then Wessex asked in a low voice, “Now do you
mind telling me what my daughter is doing at your house?”

Nick took
a deep breath. “She's up on my mountain. Digging. When I spoke to you
last, I had no idea she was going to be excavating on my land.”

“How
well do you know her?”

There was
a pause. Nick didn't want to get into specifics with Carter's father. He had a
feeling she'd view it as a betrayal. “Well enough.”

“Personally?”

“Yes,”

“How
is she?”

There was
a desperation behind the words, one that Nick didn't associate with the man.

“She's
well.”

“Has
she told you why we're estranged?”

“Some.”

A sigh of
sadness and resignation came over the line. “It's hard to make up for the
whims of fate.”

Then, as
if he were shaking himself out of the past, Wessex cleared his throat and said,
sharply, “Anyway, I'll call Packert.”

“You
let me know when you need me down in the city.”

After
Nick got off the line, he picked up the CommTrans documents. For the first
time, he saw them not as the key to winning but as nothing more than a stack of
paper, held together at the left-hand corner by a black clip. Flipping through
the document, he saw where he'd highlighted clauses, written notes in the
margins, crossed out sections. The weight of the contract felt flimsy in his
fingers.