“A challenge. I like that.” He was feeling better about his offer now. Rebecca Barrett was quick-witted and beautiful. It was an evening he was looking forward to.
“Let me show you Joey’s apartment.”
She took him through the barn, her slim form preceding his as they examined the stalls and climbed to the loft. Still chatting easily, they walked back to Blackthorn and to the site where the framework of the new house stood in stark relief against the sky.
Dru looked to the west where he could see the broad band of the Mississippi River sweeping by. Just slightly south, downriver, was the town of Natchez. He loved this land, this area.
“You look like you’ve just found home,” Rebecca said.
“Home in the sense of this whole county,” Dru said, sweeping his hand to include the entire vista. “I’ve never aspired to owning Blackthorn, but I’m glad to be friends with the owners. I hope to be invited to dinner often.”
Rebecca showed him the house plans. He spoke of the verandas and the plants, enthusiastic about the landscaping of the yard.
“You sound like you’d make a fair landscape architect if you ever decided to give up the law,” Rebecca said.
“I was trained in that field. That was my career ambition, but my dad was sheriff, and when his health failed, I sort of inherited the office. Then I got elected,” he said, shrugging, feeling the heat creep into his cheeks.
“And they just keep electing you,” Rebecca said, grinning with a bit of an imp in her eyes.
“Something like that.”
“You must do a good job.”
“Now that’s a matter of opinion, but I do love my work. Most of the time. There are always those hard cases when you have to prosecute someone you know and like. Thank goodness those don’t happen often.”
There was the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind them and Marcus turned to see a man with angry gray eyes headed for them.
“I told you to keep that simpleton away from me. He’s spilled a wheelbarrow of manure right in the middle of an excavation that took me three days.”
Rebecca lifted an eyebrow. “Brett Gibson, this is Sheriff Dru Colson. Sheriff, Brett is working on the excavation of the Indian mound with some help from John Ittawasa.”
Dru felt an instant dislike for Brett. Part of it was the man’s arrogant demeanor, but the other part was the tiniest edge of contempt he leveled at Rebecca.
“Mr. Ittawasa isn’t helping me,” Brett snapped. “He’s here to make sure no one steals any of the artifacts. Including me and my team.”
“John is a good man,” Dru said carefully. “He loves the history of his people far more than anyone else. I’m sure he’s very excited to see what you find.”
“Right,” Brett said. “So what are you going to do about that—”
“Stop it, Brett. Don’t say that word!”
Dru felt Rebecca tense beside him, and he was aware of her hands clenching. She wanted to slug the arrogant fool, and Dru thought he might help her.
“I’ve told you not to refer to Joey in those terms,” she said evenly. “If he’s made a mistake, I’ll correct it.”
“You’d better put a leash on that boy and keep him out of my way.”
“Or what?” Dru asked conversationally, but with enough ice that it stopped Brett in his tracks. Dru saw his true colors. He’d rage and try to intimidate Rebecca, but he wouldn’t stand up to Dru or what stood behind him—the law.
“Or nothing. I’ll quit,” Brett said.
“None of my business, but I have to point out that might not be such a bad idea,” Dru said. Suddenly, he’d developed a case of loose tongue. Twice in the past half hour he’d said exactly what he was thinking.
Brett glared at the sheriff and walked away.
Rebecca turned to Dru with a rueful grin on her face. “He’s good at his job, just a little prickly.”
“Yes, something like that. He needs a few Southern manners.”
“He’s got a good crew, let me introduce you.”
Dru followed Rebecca to the mound where three men were gently brushing dirt away from what looked like a series of clay vessels.
“Tony Wells, Rich Tanner, and Carlos Liotta,” Rebecca said, introducing Dru. A woman carrying bottled water came trudging up the slope. “And this is—”
“Regina Batson,” Dru said, smiling. “I saw your dad last week and he told me how proud he is that you’re working with him. He said you were taking a break from school for a while but that you should have your degree soon.”
“I helped with the design of the estate,” Regina said, “and then I became interested in the dig. You know, everyone’s heard about Blackthorn. Brett and Rebecca said I could help out with the excavation. Who knows, we might find more treasure.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter.
“Yeah, we heard about that treasure. And we heard about the trouble out here before we came,” Rich said, standing up. He was tall, lanky, and the sweat had soaked his hair so that it stuck to his face. “Do you suppose there’s more treasure?”
Dru laughed. “Sorry boys, you’re about three months too late.”
Rich nodded. “Story of my life. Day late and a dollar short.” He glanced around. “Still, no harm in looking, I suppose.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not true,” Rebecca said instantly. “Brett is excavating the burial mound and that small area at the base of it. Digging elsewhere is prohibited.”
Rich glanced at his two friends. “Whatever you say, boss lady.” He grinned, and there was no malice in his tone.
“Thanks,” Rebecca said. “I’m only following the directives given to me by the owners.”
Dru took his farewells of the men and headed back to his patrol car. He’d been eager to get out of the sheriff’s office when he’d taken the call to Blackthorn. It had been his best decision in weeks.
“Regina Batson is certainly an interesting addition to the team,” Rebecca said lightly. “When she’s around, Brett makes an effort not to be a total bear.”
“Thank goodness someone has a positive effect on him.” Dru shrugged one shoulder. “May I pick you up at seven?” he asked.
“Perfect. Casual?”
There was such hope in her voice that he laughed. “Casual it is. Seafood.”
She smiled. “I’ll be ready.”
CHAPTER TWO
REBECCA WAS GLAD she’d chosen the yellow sundress. Sitting on the dock of the restaurant with a gentle breeze from the Mississippi, she felt sexy and feminine. It was impossible not to, the way Dru Colson was looking at her.
“Why aren’t you married?” Dru asked.
Rebecca laughingly held out her wrists. “Are you going to arrest me before you interrogate me?”
Dru laughed too, but a little self-consciously. “Sorry. I guess that did come out a little on the gruff side.”
“Not gruff, just direct,” Rebecca said. She bit her lip as she decided how much to tell him. “I was engaged. Last year. The wedding was planned, everything.” She hesitated, but she could see in his eyes that he would ask. He wasn’t a man who held back on the questions. “I cancelled the wedding, but Mike didn’t object too