Running Back

the bed stand. “Maybe I should quote Yeats.”

“Is he romantic?”

“I’m not really sure. The intro said he was obsessed with some woman?”

“Like Heathcliff obsessed, or...”

I flipped the book open. “He proposed to her six times. At least he was poetic about the obsession.” I paused. “Wouldn’t it be nice if every time you got catcalled, it came out as a line of poetry? We should patent that.”

“No. Because that’s called magic, not science.”

“Right.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe I just won’t say anything.”

“For God’s sake. Just tell him after you have sex.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I can do that.”

“Wait, actually, if Yeats was a creeper that would be totally appropriate because you’re a creeper!”

“I’m hanging up now.”

* * *

Grace and Duncan, who had been displeased but not scared off the excavation when only articles appeared, soured as reporters badgered them with questions. When I joined them and Jeremy at breakfast the next morning, they were whispering furiously at each other across the table.

They looked up, disgruntled, as I sat, and Grace shook her head at me. I almost smiled brightly, but I was tired of fake smiles and talking just to fill silences. “Any new ideas of how we’re dealing with them?”

“I think we should just ignore it,” Duncan said.

Grace shook her head. “Maybe if we made it clear Ms. Sullivan wasn’t actually associated with the excavation.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. “You want—you want me to pretend I’m not a part of this? No!” I looked to Jeremy for help. “I was the one who picked this location out of all the possibilities, because my research said this was the most likely spot for a city. I found the money. I got the permission. I’m not going anywhere!”

“Natalie,” Jeremy said quietly.

I ignored him. “Why should I disassociate? Because it’d be easier for all of you? To just put all the blame on the supermodel’s flaky daughter.”

“Natalie.”

“I don’t want my reputation being dragged down on this,” Grace said coolly.

I looked at Jeremy. He wouldn’t return my gaze.

Because right now my rep could lower him, while Grace’s and Duncan’s could bring him higher up. “Jeremy, please. Let me talk to the press. I’ll give a little statement about how we’re still early in the dig and have no substantive conclusions right now, and I’ll add something boring about my mother and Mike to get them off my back.”

“They don’t want something boring.”

I started, and twisted around to see Mike, standing in his sweats and rumpled hair, watching us all with bright eyes.

“Oh?” Grace said. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m sure your feud is great and all. Very made-for-TV. But those aren’t your academic journalists out there. They want a splashy story for the tabloids or the cover of the sports section.”

“Tabloids,” Duncan groaned.

Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “You think they’re more interested in you than me and Ceile?”

Mike’s brows shot up and he smiled his you-poor-disbelieving-bastard smile. “I think it can’t hurt if Natalie and I give a little interview with some of the journalists I know.”

I waited until they’d all agreed, and then I went after Mike. “Why’d you offer that? I thought you were anti saving Jeremy’s rep.”

He brushed my hair back. “I don’t care about Jeremy. But I don’t want you sacrificing yourself and giving up the dig to save his reputation.”

I frowned. “Do you really think I would do that?”

“I don’t know. Would you? You’ve put people above finding Ivernis before. You put me above Kilkarten.”

I studied the planes of his face. How was it possible a person could be so familiar to me, that I could conjure his face down to the smallest detail even when he wasn’t nearby, and that when he was before me I never tired of looking? “You’re different.”

He slid his hands around my waist, under the hem of my shirt. They radiated heat. Mike radiated heat, like fire made human. “Am I?”

I brought my lips to his and tried to tell him in every way except verbally that I loved him.

* * *

None of the reporters followed us onto the fields, since Kilkarten was private property. Still, a hesitant unease hung over the crew as we shifted shovels of unremarkable earth. I called lunch early, and my unit trooped over to the others by the parking lot. We settled in the dirt with our bags and a round of Purelle. Some of the workers, like Anka Wojcik, lay down with their hats over their faces and catnapped during our forty-five minute break. These were usually the ones who worked here as their second job, or who came from farms farther away and had to wake earlier than the rest of us.

They probably weren’t worried about the lack of discovery, but more about having this income next summer.

“Who’s that?” Tim O’Brian, with the farm ten miles west, nodded his head toward the parking lot. “Never seen her before.”

Jack Kelleher spoke around his mouthful of banana. “She a friend of yours, Natalie?”

I looked up and realized they were asking me because the newcomer was accompanied by Mike, who helpfully offered his hand to help her over a bump.

We were outside. Of course there were bumps. Why the hell was she wearing heels?

From this distance, I couldn’t see her features, but I could see the way her long dark hair flowed over her shoulders, held back by a headband, and the way her coat cinched at the waist and then flared out in an appropriately whimsical manner.

I stood and made my way over, acutely aware of the dirt on my legs and my butt and my hair and my face. I was dirt all over; I breathed it, ate it, smelled it. I blew my nose and black mucus came out. “Hi.”

Mike gestured at the girl. “Hey, Nat. This is Jane Ellington.” To the girl, he said, “Natalie’s a grad student on the dig.”

She stuck out her hand and revealed gleaming white teeth. “Nice to meet you.”

I held my hands up, showing the dirt smeared to the edges by the cool sliding sanitizer. “Probably shouldn’t shake. You’re kind of far from home.”

“I’m the sports foreign correspondence for Sports Today.”

I blinked several times. Sports Today was one of the largest news sites. “Well, that is just fascinating.”

She smiled broadly. “Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?”

I glanced at Mike, who had on his agreeable, easy-going face. I wanted to tell him to wipe it off and put on something that would indicate now was not the time. “Now’s not a good time.”

“Maybe over dinner?”

I sighed and rubbed my head, remembering only afterward that the combination of sunscreen and dirt meant I was now a muddy mess. Great. “I don’t know. It’s been a long day...”

“A day looking for the remains of Ivernis?”

My defensive bristles went up at the slightly amused lilt in her voice. But Mike had brought her here, which must mean he thought she was worth talking to. “Sure. Fine. Dinner.”

Mike smiled and led her away. I looked forlornly after them.

Lauren came up beside me, wearing a neat blouse and skirt. She clearly was only here to socialize. “Do we hate her?”