Heart Of Gold (35 page)

The
miniature world came to life. Lights glowed in shop windows, steam began to
come out of tiny smokestacks, water started to trickle down the mountainside.
Fingering the controls, she sent a train along the tracks.

They fell
into talk about the cars and the setup, a relaxed conversation that surprised
her. It made her remember how easy talking to her father had once been. And it
made her miss him.

They
enjoyed the grown-up toy until she noticed that the sun had spun over to a much
lower angle.

“Do
you know what time it is?” Carter asked.

Wessex glanced at a gold
watch on his wrist. “Good Lord, it's past three. I should have been
getting into the limo with that odious man hours ago.”

Carter
drew back on the throttle, bringing the engine to a smooth stop in front of
her. She didn't want to turn the power off. She didn't want to leave the room.
She didn't want to go back to the way things had been.

But she
wasn't sure where to take them.

As the
twinkling lights went out, her father said, “This has been
wonderful.”

She found
herself agreeing with him. “Are our trains still in the billiards
room?”

“They
are. Just the same as when you ...”

He didn't
finish.

“I
remember the way they looked,” she said, wanting to pull him away from
painful memories. “Is that mountain range still halfway done?”

“Yes.”

The two
headed down the stairway.

“Maybe
I should come by sometime, when I'm in the city.”

Her
father's steps faltered. “I would be so happy to see you.”

Carter
smiled in the dim light.

Together,
they stepped out into the sunshine. As they walked toward the mansion, their
steps were slow over the grass.

Abruptly,
she stopped and faced her father. I’m glad you came up yesterday."

She
watched, stunned, as a shine of tears appeared in his eyes. Instinctually, she
reached out to comfort him. As her hand settled on his arm, he held on to it.

“Do
you know that your mother and I loved you? As best we could? That I still love
you so much now?”

“Don't
cry,” she told him softly as he fumbled for his handkerchief. While he
wiped his eyes, she could feel some kind of thread taking hold between them.
Some kind of gossamer-thin tie. They stood together for a long time, silently
coming closer.

When they
finally went into the house, they found Gertie arranging flowers in the front
hall. She informed them that Packert had already left for the city and Wessex would have to take the train back. Carter offered to drive him to the station.

While her
father went upstairs to get his things, she watched Gertie's gnarled hands work
some fragrant lilac blossoms.

“He's
a good man, your father,” the woman pronounced, “from what I've seen
of him. You two get to spend much time together?”

“It'll
be more now.” Carter was amazed that she wanted to see him again. It had
seemed like such an impossibility just days before and yet so much had changed.
Everything, it seemed, had changed.

Her
father reappeared with his black, mono-grammed suitcase. “Where's our
host?”

“Behind
you,” Nick said, materializing in the foyer. He was dressed in a tuxedo
but wearing boat shoes.

Carter
jerked at the sound of his voice and searched out his eyes. They passed over
her as if she wasn't there and that hurt, even though she told herself it
shouldn't. She also couldn't help noticing how wide his shoulders were
underneath the black jacket, how the white of the shirt contrasted with his
tanned skin, how tall and imposing he was.

“A
bit formal for a sail, don't you think.” Wessex offered a smile that
wasn't returned.

“There's
a benefit tonight at Winnie and Curt Thorndyke's down the lake. I told Curt I'd
help with roasting the pig. Man wouldn't know a good pit from a pendulum.”

The words
were casual but cold.

“I
know Thorndyke,” Wessex said. “His wife is very horsy. Members of the
Botealis, aren't they?”

“That's
the one.” Nick stretched out a hand. “Safe trip. I'll be in
touch.”

“Thank
you...” Wessex hesitated as they shook, glancing over at Carter.
“For everything.”

With a
harsh smile, Nick turned away. “My pleasure.”

As the
door shut, Carter watched him through the screen. He pushed his hands into his
pockets and sauntered down to the lake, looking as if he didn't have a care in
the world.

She felt
bereft at his nonchalance, at the sense that she was so utterly forgettable.

Which was
ridiculous, she told herself angrily. Now was hardly the time for her ego to
raise its head. Self-preservation had to trump the id. It just had to.

Still,
she found it hard not to curse as she and her father went out to the Jeep.

While
they were scaling the mountain roads, he asked about the dig and what they were
trying to find. She was relieved by the distraction.

“We're
investigating the Winship parry.”

“Quite
a piece of American history. How much longer will you be up there?”

“A
couple of weeks. Maybe less.” She wondered whether her father had picked
up on the ache in her voice. She sure had heard it.

“Do
you love him, Carter?” The question was spoken with softness and
compassion.

She
looked across at her father, meeting his vibrant blue eyes. “I don't have a lot
of experience with being in love, but I've got to imagine it's the only thing
that hurts this much."

His
expression grew thoughtful. “I've known Farrell personally for the past
few years, known of him since he came to Wall Street. He's a hard man,” Wessex reflected. “A good one, I believe, but very hard. It would take an extraordinary
woman to capture his heart.”

Pain
seared at the thought of the next woman Nick was going to have. “Well, I'm
sure she's out there somewhere.”

“He
thinks he's already found her.”

Carter
shook her head. “Not anymore. I cured him of his misconception. He'll move
on. I'll... get through it somehow.”

Carter
changed the subject, feeling grateful when her father let it drop.

When they
pulled up to the train station, she waited with him on the platform until the
4:19 pulled in with a squeal of brakes and a hiss. Suddenly there wasn't any
more time.

In a
rush, she wrapped her arms around her father, holding him close.

“I
had almost given up hope,” he said as he held her tight.

“Bye-bye,”
she said softly as they parted. “I'll see you soon.”

Wessex closed his eyes,
as if a wish of his had been granted. Then he kissed her on the forehead and
mounted the three steps into the railcar. As the train pulled away, Carter
watched him settle in a seat next to the window. She waved back at him as he
disappeared down the tracks.

When
Carter returned to the ruined camp-site, her strength drained out of the soles
of her feet. Everything was in disarray, soaking wet, and covered in mud. Tree
limbs were down or hanging at crazy angles and the big pine was already
wilting.

She
looked at her bandaged injury and felt handicapped.

As she
was wondering where to start, Buddy, Ellie, and Cort came back from the circle
of stones.

“Looks
like you had quite a party up here last night,” her partner quipped.
“So what'd the doctor say about your hand? Are you okay?”

“I'll
be good as new in a couple weeks.” She looked around the campsite.
“Which is a shame because I need the thing to work right now. We've got
some serious digging out ahead of us.”

Cort
beamed. “With all the mess up here, I guess you're going to have to stay
down at my house for a while.”

“You
think your uncle will mind having two beautiful ladies under his roof?”
Buddy asked.

“Two?”
Carter interjected sharply. “Make that one. I'm staying up here.”

Her
friend frowned. “Don't be ridiculous. You're injured.”

When
Carter shot him a determined look, Buddy hitched up his baggy pants with a
playful snort and turned to the teenagers. “Looks like the little woman
and I are going to have us a talk. While we're gone, why don't you pour out the
tents and hang up everything you can.”

“We
don't need to talk about this,” Carter protested. “I've made up
my—”

“Shall
we?” Buddy offered her a long look and his arm.

With a
side comment about heavy-handed men, Carter shrugged him off and marched into
the woods.

When they
were out of earshot, she put her hands on her hips. “We can't leave this
place unattended, you know that. And Ellie needs you.”

“She
was worried about the storm last night but she'll be fine as long as we don't
have any more typhoons.” Buddy's voice was level, sensible. “Look, I
know sleeping down there is not the best because of .. . but I'm worried about
your health. That's a hell of a cut and you should really think of yourself as
down for repairs.”

“I'll
be fine up here,” she countered doggedly.

“With
that injury, you're useless if anyone comes poking around. It really makes more
sense for me to stay. It's safer for everyone.”

As
creative as Carter was, she couldn't argue with that one! What was she going to
do if someone—if Lyst—came up in the middle of the night?

Scare him
off with some flashy, one-handed moves with a thigh bone? If she did go down to
the mansion, at least she could sleep in a real bed and take long showers to
ease all her aches and pains.

Well, at
least the ones in her body.

She
thought about how Nick had looked at her in his foyer. His eyes had been so
aloof, and her disappointment was both inappropriate and disconcerting. What
did she expect? She'd pushed him away, for all the right reasons, and he'd gone
back to being the cold man she'd met when she first walked into his house. What
did she think was going to happen? He was going to keep pining away for her
forever? Rot in a chair in a darkened room from heartbreak?

Yes,
Carter thought. That was what she wanted him to do. She wanted to know that he
was suffering like she was or at least for him to look as if he were having a
hard time. She didn't want him wearing a tuxedo and going to a party. It just
wasn't fair. Her life was a mess and he was going to go roast a damn pig.

Buddy
snapped his fingers in front of her. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

“All
right. I'll go down,” Carter grumbled, resigning herself.

“Good.
By the way, do you mind if I sleep in your tent? Mine is mercifully leak free,
but we're not going to be able to move the stuff out until we resurrect
Papercut Central.”

“Fine
with me.”

When she
and Buddy returned to camp, Cort and Ellie had turned the place into a laundry
room. Sleeping bags, towels, and clothes were hanging from lines they'd tied
between trees, and the tents had been resurrected.

“Interesting
decor,” Buddy cracked. “Early clothes hamper tinted with a whimsical
vision. I like it.”

They were
talking about what to tackle next when Cort checked his watch and grew grim.
“I have to go.”

Ellie
smiled at him. “If you can wait a little while, I'll just finish—”

“No,
I have to go now. I’ll see you down there for dinner.”

After he
left quickly, Ellie looked over at Carter with disappointed eyes. “I just
don't understand men.”

Carter put
a sympathetic hand on the girl's shoulder. “I'd like to tell you that
wisdom comes from experience with them.”

“But
you'd be lying?”

“Precisely.”

“Now
wait a minute,” Buddy countered. “As the lone representative of my
gender, I have to take umbrage at that. Trying to figure you women out is
impossible. Like picking linguine off the floor with a magnet.”

“Dad,
that metaphor sucks.”

Carter
smiled. “Ellie, I'd also like to tell you that wisdom comes to them with
experience.”

“But
it doesn't, right?”

“Precisely.”

The three
of them spent the remaining daylight tackling the mess at Papercut Central.
Thanks to a chainsaw Ivan had lent him, Buddy cut up the pine tree and cleared
it into the woods. When he was finished, Ellie and Carter helped rehang the
tarp. Although the table was in bad shape, they managed to hammer it back into
usable condition.

When they
finally went down the mountain, they were greeted at the house with a meal
prepared by Gertie. Cort, who looked happy to see Ellie, made a point of
sitting next to the girl. After dinner, the two went to watch the only TV in
the house, and Buddy headed back up to camp.

Left to
her own devices, Carter retired to the peach bedroom and changed into silk
pajamas, a rare luxury on a dig. Experience had proven that there was always
one point in any project when living in the dirt and sleeping on the ground got
to be too much. Tonight was the night, and she figured she deserved the treat
after all she'd been through. Before she turned in, she stepped out onto the
porch to look at the stars.

The night
air brushed against her skin and she watched as moonlight danced across the
lake. A whippoorwill, tripping through his solo and starting over, again and
again, made her wish she had someone to share the moment with.

But not just
anyone.

Where was
he now, she wondered. The image that came to mind, of him holding some other
woman close, made her wince.

Leaving
the doors wide open, she went back inside and crawled between the butter-soft
sheets. She closed her eyes. Fidgeted. Tossed. Punched the pillow with her good
hand. It was a long time before she fell asleep.

* * *

The
steady hum of the Hacker's engine dropped to a low pump as Nick pulled into the
boathouse. After he shut it off, he stepped from the gunnels onto the dock. As
soon as his feet landed, he looked down at the decking, wondering why he felt
like he was still on water.