North Dakota Weddings (25 page)

Amber readjusted her scrunchie. Did she really want to go into all that? “Oh it’s nothing, really. I came here to do a certain job, only to find out I’m doing something else. Something…less. And the man I was planning to work under, well, I guess I’m not important enough to warrant his attention.” She made it sound like she was actually employed somewhere. But how could she explain all that to a stranger?

She stopped. Through the trees she saw what looked like the breaks—the descent into the Badlands terrain of ridges, bluffs, and buttes. As Amber gazed into the distance, the man came to a stop next to her.

She took a step from the trail, thinking to head for the break in the trees and look at the terrain. “Is that—”

The man gently laid his hand on her arm. “You don’t want to do that.”

Warmth raced over her skin. Startled, she looked at him. “Why not?”

“It’ll be dark soon. It’s not called the Badlands for nothing. One misstep could land you at the bottom of a pinnacle. The Sioux Indians called it a word that meant ‘land bad’ and the French translated that into ‘a bad land to cross.’”

Disappointed, Amber frowned. “I’m sure you’re right. What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking you wanted to see something magnificent. And especially in the moonlight it truly is. Some of the structures look like ruins from an ancient city.”

“Wow, really?” Amber sighed, thinking how beautiful that would be. Then she peeked at the man standing next to her. He wouldn’t look a day over thirty if it weren’t for the slightly graying hair at his temples, making him appear famous and distinguished.

Standing next to him, she sensed something different about him. Part of her wished there was a way she could see him again. But how?

After a thoughtful moment, the man pulled his gaze from the trees and back to Amber, returning her intense stare.

Brandon held his breath, struggling to remember his father’s words. Something about God making him trip over a good woman.

He eyed the young woman with raven hair—shiny and black like that of a thoroughbred—and eyes an unusual shade. Liquid gold with flecks of brown, though it was hard to be sure in the dimming light.

Striking
.

An uneven rhythm thudded in his chest.
That
was new.

He’d not seen her jogging on the trails before today. Maybe Dad was right. She was beautiful, obviously loved to run, and…he didn’t work with her.

Feeling tongue-tied as a schoolboy, he wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Suddenly, he was hit with the strangest desire—he wished…he wished he could share the beauty of the eroded pinnacles that only appeared to look like ancient ruins in the moonlight. Asking her—a woman he’d only just met—if he could show her the sight was completely out of the question. And yet?

No—they were complete strangers. What could he say to her?

She appeared uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
Uh-oh
. He’d better say something and quick.

“I understand about disappointments and failures in the workplace, so I can certainly relate to how you’re feeling.”

She tilted her head just so. Cute. “You can?”

“Sure.” Now what did he say? He was quickly losing his ability to communicate. But how could he tell her the rest? His job had been his life and when he’d lost it because of a vindictive young protégé…Brandon took a step back, feeling like he was finally coming to his senses.

“It’s getting dark. I should probably go,” she said.

Curious, he cocked his head. “So, where do you work? If you don’t mind my asking.”

She kicked the dirt around, then looked up at him as though bashful. “I shouldn’t have said anything about my troubles. Really. I start at the museum store tomorrow. You should stop by some time.” She smiled then took off running. “My ankle’s feeling better,” she called, with a quick glance back at him.

A smoldering sensation filled his gut. She must be one of the new interns Jim had mentioned. Heaving long and hard, he started running again, but in the opposite direction. He’d catch the connecting loop to burn off his frustration.

Jim insisted they needed help, and though he was right, Brandon needed to focus on the mounting work ahead of him. It was an odd twist, bringing in help, only to have to divert energy into these individuals, guiding them in the disciplines, directing their futures. In Brandon’s mind, a volunteer intern was almost a contradiction.

He’d just as soon do the work himself at this point. But why had they put this young woman in the museum store? She’d been seriously disappointed.

Years ago he’d been a research paleontologist for a museum. But with a museum director father, collections had always held a draw for him, causing him to harbor the desire to follow his father. He’d forged a friendship with the director in the museum where he worked, who mentored him. Eventually, Brandon learned the process well enough to manage a small museum. When presented with the opportunity, he’d taken it. But then…disaster struck.

If it hadn’t been for the aid of a well-respected friend, Brandon wouldn’t have found his life again in the newly created Harrington Museum. Even though several years had passed, he wasn’t ready to open himself up again to risk or criticism.

No more protégés
…

The words he’d spoken to Jim came back to him. He’d stand by them. Even if she was beautiful beyond words, and he’d come within a breath of asking her on a date. Lungs burning, Brandon slowed his run as the museum complex came into view. Only two cars remained—his black Jeep and Jim’s silver Lexus. He let himself in through the back, feeling the pain in his joints from the long run. After a quick stop in the men’s room to wash the sweat from his face and neck, he continued on to Jim’s office. Talking on the phone, Jim turned his back to Brandon, finishing the call.

Finally, Jim faced Brandon and flipped his phone shut. “Have a good run?”

“Not entirely. I ran into one of your new interns. Literally.”

Jim quirked a half grin then shuffled some papers. “Sounds like Providence.”

Dad would agree
. “Did you personally interview them?”

“I reviewed applications and took the ones with recommendations from professors. The usual. Why? Is there a problem?”

Brandon rubbed his chin to cover his misgivings. Why was he so upset? “No, I just wished you would have talked to me before bringing on interns.”

“Haven’t we already been through this? What’s done is done. Besides, it’s a menial task you relegated to me last year, remember?” A subtle smirk slid into Jim’s lips. “Though you didn’t accept them, your name is on the letter. You’re the director.”

Brandon heaved a sigh. He was making too much out of this.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure you never see a volunteer or intern again this summer, all right?”

“An impossible promise, Jim.” Scratching the back of his neck, Brandon sagged, blowing out the last of his frustration.

“So what is it about this intern you ran into that has you upset?”

How could he tell Jim he’d wanted to see this woman again only to discover she was one of the museum’s interns?—a dangerous activity in which he refused to engage. “Just ignore me.”

Brandon left Jim’s office, kicking himself for the knee-jerk reaction.

Guilt chiseled through him. If it weren’t for people willing to invest in him during his formative years as a young college student, where would he be today? He was more than obligated to pass on their generosity, despite his personal issues.

He grabbed his keys and exited the museum. Walking backward, he gazed up at the large letters. T
HE
H
ARRINGTON
N
ATURAL AND
C
ULTURAL
M
USEUM
.

Everything was riding on his making this museum work. Everything. He’d been given a chance to prove himself.

An image of the young intern with dark hair flashed before his eyes, replacing that of the museum. He turned toward the Jeep and heard the telltale chirp of the lock’s disengagement. She was a striking beauty, really. Good thing he wasn’t one to easily fall for beautiful women.

The last thing he needed was an ever-present reminder of his past failures, lingering around the museum every day.

S
tanding on the ladder, Amber had a great view of the museum store. To add to the arrangement she was working on, she pulled another bobblehead tyrannosaurus from the box resting on the shelf below. A quick glance behind her told her Gladys had finished with her customer and would soon want to inspect Amber’s merchandising skills, which were—in a word—none.

She’d spent the morning learning to operate their computerized register system as well as walking the entire floor to locate and identify each and every item. As far as she was concerned, she should be getting paid for this rather than working as a volunteer. But this was only her first day on the job.

Stocking the shelf with green felt-covered bobblehead dinosaurs was a far cry from digging in the dirt to excavate the real thing or learning the work behind accessions or collections.

Despite her disappointment, she smiled at the display and dusted off her hands. Gladys stood at the bottom of the ladder, looking up. The way Gladys smiled, Amber decided she’d convinced the older woman she had accepted her assignment without further complaint.

Gladys adjusted her glasses. “I thought you weren’t sure what to do. Looks like you have a knack for display. I think you might be a keeper.” She winked then turned her back to Amber, heading back to the register.

I’m a keeper?
“Wait, Gladys.”

A teenager stood at the register, looking around expectantly. Gladys either didn’t hear or ignored Amber and hurried to assist the customer.

Amber didn’t want to be a keeper. At least not in the museum store. She began descending the ladder then remembered the box on the second shelf and climbed back up two rungs. As she gripped the ladder to grab the box, her hand swiped one of the bobbleheads. It tumbled over, knocking the other toy dinosaurs over like dominoes, the clattering amplified by the store acoustics.

With an hour until closing time still left, Amber huffed, wishing the day were over already. She wasn’t sure she could stick it out. And if she left, she’d have to wait until Cams could return to pick her up. She began restoring the dinosaur arrangement, wondering if the top shelf was really the best place for the display. But Gladys had insisted that children were tempted to play with the dinosaurs, leaving the toys too damaged to sell.

“The top shelf, it is,” she mumbled to herself, hoping for a readjustment in her attitude.

“Hi, there.” A smooth voice spoke from behind.

Where had she heard it before?

Amber turned around to see the guy she’d run into yesterday on the trail. “Oh, hi. You decided to stop by the museum store. That’s nice of you.” Why was she being so flirty with him? He was much older. Had to be married. But something about the way he looked up at her sent a warm, giddy feeling over her.

Please, don’t let him be married
. She’d hate to think a married man would look at someone besides his wife like that. A glimpse at his left hand revealed no ring. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She made her way down the ladder without repairing the damage she’d done, stopping two rungs from the bottom. The bobbleheads weren’t going anywhere.

“Looks like you’re doing a great job for someone who didn’t want to work
here.”
He grinned.

Lifting the cardboard box that she’d tossed onto the shelf earlier, she blew out an exaggerated breath. “Not hardly. I’ve knocked these things over twice today. I’m so clumsy.”

“I know. Your family heirloom.”

“My family—” Amber looked at him. He remembered that?

“Starting tomorrow, you don’t have to worry about arranging the dinosaur toys. You officially begin your training as an intern assigned to the digs.”

She stepped down another rung, lingering on the last one, confusion whirling with panic inside. “How…how would you know that?”

The stranger stuck out his hand, waiting for hers. “I’m the museum director, Brandon Selman.”

Stunned beyond comprehension, Amber nearly stumbled off the ladder. Embarrassment flooded her thoughts and face.

“You mean,
you’re Dr
. Selman?” she asked, recalling Gladys’s adamant words.

He chuckled and dropped his hand. She’d never taken it.

“I may have a PhD but there’s no need for formalities. Mr. Selman will do in most cases.”

As she recalled, Gladys was pretty emphatic about the doctor part. Amber wouldn’t take any chances. “I was…expecting someone much older.”

The warmth in his expression faded somewhat.

“No, I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant is that you look so young. You’d think hours in the sun, digging for fossils would age a person faster, making him look older.”

He cocked a brow, waiting for her to shut up, she was certain. Probably thought she was as clumsy with her words as she was on her feet.

Uncertain whether to remain embarrassed, be angry or forever grateful, she fumbled over her words. “I’m…I feel like such an idiot. Everything I said yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”