At first, Quinn managed to forget about Luke for a few hours at a time, then for whole days, but now she was back home, and her loneliness was suddenly sharper and so much more oppressive than it had been in Jerusalem, where she was surrounded by people. The silence of the chapel, which she normally found soothing, weighed heavily on her, its density disturbed only by the sound of the falling rain and the ticking of the clock.
Quinn took a sip of tea and closed her eyes. She hated rainy days; they forced her to stay indoors. On fine days, she went for long country walks, walking until she exhausted herself enough to enjoy a few hours of dreamless sleep. But on a day like today, there was nothing to do but brood. She didn’t even have a dog. Her job demanded frequent absences, and it wouldn’t be fair to leave a puppy behind to be looked after by someone else for months on end. She did wish for a companion, though. Perhaps she could get a little dog and leave it with her parents when she went overseas. The thought cheered her up as she imagined a furry little ball of affection snuggled in her lap, making her feel less alone.
Quinn nearly spilled her tea when there was a loud knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, not so soon after arriving at home, and there was no one she could think of who’d just drop by unannounced. Quinn set her mug down and went to answer the door. Perhaps it was one of the guests from the resort who’d ventured too far off the path and got lost. Quinn opened the door, surprised to find an actual visitor.
“May I come in, or do I have to stand here in the rain?” Gabriel Russell asked as he smiled down at her.
“Of course. Sorry, Gabe. Come on in. May I offer you some tea?”
“You sure can. And add a dollop of whiskey, for medicinal purposes,” he joked as he took off his wet coat and hung it on a coatrack before taking a seat on the sofa in front of the roaring fire.
Quinn held out the mug to Gabe and reclaimed her spot on the sofa. The melancholy that crept up on her earlier was gone, and she was suddenly grateful for the unexpected visit. Gabriel Russell wasn’t just her boss but also one of her closest friends. They’d met years ago on a dig in Ireland when she was just a student and he was the dig supervisor and had remained close ever since, always staying in touch even during the most tumultuous moments of their lives. Gabe invited her to join the faculty at UCL Institute of Archeology when he accepted the position as head of the Archeology Department, and they shared a nice, comfortable relationship unmarred by stodgy professionalism or academic rivalry. They wanted different things, and Gabe, who preferred a desk job to digging in the dirt, supported Quinn and rejoiced in her success. Luke had taught several classes at the institute as well, using Quinn’s friendship with Gabe as a way in.
Gabe was in his late thirties, with shaggy dark hair worn just a little too long and dark blue eyes fringed with ridiculously long lashes. His nose was a trifle long, and his eyebrows curved like wings above his hooded eyes, making him look stern and unapproachable at times, but that was only until he smiled. Gabe had a radiant smile that made him look sheepish and endearing at the same time. He could probably charm the knickers off Her Majesty, if they ever had occasion to be in the same room, which was why he was as popular with the faculty as he was with the students.
Few people knew this, but Gabe could trace his roots back to the Norman invasion, having descended from Hugh de Rosel, who’d accompanied William the Conqueror to the shores of England and had been rewarded for his loyalty with estates in Dorset. Gabe’s family still lived in Berwick, although Gabe was the only male left of the noble line. It was Gabe’s grandfather’s obsession with history that influenced young Gabe and led to a degree in history and archeology.
Quinn folded her slim legs beneath her and turned her gaze to Gabe as she took a sip of her own tea, eager to hear what brought Gabe to her door on such a filthy night. He’d never been one for unannounced visits, so whatever it was had to be important.
“It’s really coming down out there. I nearly missed the turn; I didn’t see the sign for the village. Are you over the worst of the jet lag?” Gabe asked as he studied her features. Gabe had always detested small talk, but after several years of interdepartmental politics, he learned not to blurt out what was on his mind, as he had done when he was younger. Quinn smiled into her mug. She found this newfound political correctness somewhat amusing but went along with it, nonetheless. Gabe would get to the point eventually, and she was in no rush for him to leave.
“It took about two days to adjust, but I’m back to my usual routine. It’s nice to be home.”
“Oh? Looking forward to a nice long winter, are you?” he joked.
“After roasting in the desert for six months, a cold winter sounds like a dream come true. I won’t even complain about snow.”
“We’ll see about that. I wouldn’t
