Matchmaking Mona. Diana Mars

some slow time at work, so I’d like to volunteer my time, too, in the weekends to come.” Belatedly remembering to look at L.J., he tore his challenging gaze from Roarke. “If you can use me.”

      “Oh, we can use any able bodies that are willing to work for free and put in long, arduous hours,” LJ. said challengingly.

      “But didn’t you tell me that with the recession you’ve got to put in more time at work, because all your clients are having puppies, and you’ve got to hold their hands while they are having their panic attacks?” Mona asked innocently.

      Cooper frowned as both LJ. and Roarke hid smiles at Mona’s question. His reason for volunteering, he was sure, was as clear as crystal to Roarke. But now L.J. would think that only out of macho competitiveness, had he volunteered to help her, and that was not entirely true. Besides, Mona’s words did not make him sound like a particularly endearing fellow.

      “That’s not exactly what I recall saying, Mona—”

      “Oh, no, you used stronger words than that, but you told me that I’m not allowed to use them myself.”

      Damn! But it was getting hot in this cramped trailer. And Mona kept digging deeper holes for him.

      “You know, the coffee and hot chocolate are getting cold,” he said into the loud silence that greeted Mona’s latest pronouncement. The child had truly homicidal tendencies.

      Roarke was hiding his amusement well, but that kid Bradford had a smirk on his face. There was nothing teenagers liked better than seeing adults busted, and Bradford was getting an eyeful.

      Thankfully, LJ. took pity on him and said, “We can use some hot drinks in our tummies before we go out there. It looks like the storm system from the north is going to be joined by the one visiting southern Illinois soon, and we’d better get cracking if we want to get anything done today.”

      Cooper breathed a sigh of relief as they all moved to the tiny galley to consume breakfast.

      Five

      Despite their best efforts and intentions, they were not able to get much done before the converging storms from north and south unleashed a torrential downpour on them. The temperature also plummeted, and everyone was forced back into the trailer.

      “You know, L.J.,” Roarke said, “I’ve got to get Brad home soon and make it back to Springfield myself. Early tomorrow morning I’m meeting some benefactors regarding possible grants.”

      “Please don’t let us keep you,” Cooper said helpfully. He had been downright jealous of the easy camaraderie between Roarke and L.J., and feeling a bit insecure about the fact that they shared a whole world of which he was only vaguely aware. He felt on the fringes of it, and did not like the feeling.

      Mona, apparently, was none too thrilled with Bradford Palmington herself. The Channahons were not happy campers.

      “Oh, we still have a little bit of time. I’m not going to be able to do anything in Kampsville for quite a while. The rains are predicted for days, so I should be able to help you set up,” Roarke said. He turned to Cooper. “Dr. Livingston wants to model this excavation after the Kampsville experience—getting people to dig, but also assist in the laboratory to wash, sort, catalogue and tabulate any materials that might be recovered from the site.” Looking at Mona, he added, “LJ. has told me how interested you are in the field. You’ll benefit from an interdisciplinary approach in which you’ll be able to explore ceramics, paleontology, botany, geomorphology and lithic findings.”

      “Lithic means stone tools,” Mona told Cooper with an air of self-importance.

      Cooper refrained from reminding her that he still had some recollection from that dig he’d participated in, and the difficult six credit hours he’d earned. Let her enjoy her moment of glory, even if it meant he had to stand in the shadow of a man he was trying hard to dislike, but not quite succeeding.

      “Sounds interesting,” Cooper said noncommittally.

      “You’re in business, right?” Roarke asked as LJ. lifted a box from a corner that was marked Careful! Software! in screaming red letters.