Read Online Linda Castle by Temple's Prize - Free Book Online

expeditions to faraway and primitive places did she ever truly find the kind of peace she craved.
    She crawled to the front of her tent, wanting to stare at the night, wishing to allow the almost silent night to seep into her soul.
    As she emerged from the tent she saw two motionless forms positioned on either side of the smoldering fire. The steady rattle of Mr. Hughes’s snores brought a smile to her lips. For this brief span of time she could enjoy a moment of solitude, a short respite from the tug-of-war that was going on between her and Temple.
    Constance reached for her day coat but hesitated just short of touching it. She had grown tired of the bulky garments and insect netting that covered her face. She relished the freedom of movement she experienced while not wearing her boned corset under her sturdy dress. A capricious breeze fluttered over her cheeks and she realized how much she missed the feel of the sun and wind on her face. She drew in a breath and tasted the wilderness on her tongue.
    Temple Parish might not believe it of her, but Constance loved this wild outdoor life as much as any man ever could. When she was in the field, in North America or some foreign exotic country, her senses sprang to life. She found herself rising before dawn from sheer excitement, and the possibility of discovery made it difficult for her to sleep at night. Right now she was eager for the dawn—anxious for the dig—and more than ready to show Temple Parish she was no longer the little girl he captured in his wooden carving.
    Constance heard peeps, croaks and other feral sounds she preferred not to identify as she crept from her shelter. She was sensible enough not to stray too far from camp, but she did walk to the back side of the lean-to and look out across the unbroken expanse of black velvet prairie.
    She raised her chin toward the heavens. Her unbound hair tickled the lower part of her spine through the thin fabric of her gown. The ebony sky invited her. to reach toward it, and she found herself doing that, as if she could actually touch the soft texture and allow a handful of stars to trickle through her fingers like droplets of water.
    Constance squinted her eyes and for a moment she thought she could pick out the constellation of Orion. Without her spectacles she could not be sure, but she preferred to believe it all the same.
    The sound of wood scraping against wood brought her spinning around in surprise. She drew in a breath and held herself rigid while her eyes swept the crimson and ebony embers that marked camp. Now only one dark shape remained near the dying bed of coals.
    Creeping forward, Constance searched for the source of the sound. She squinted her eyes and made out a looming shape in the half-light. When she heard a whispered string of descriptive expletives, she knew it was Temple fumbling around in the back of the wagon.
    The sound of another crate being shoved across the wooden bottom of the wagon grated through the night and temporarily silenced some of the creatures around her but Mr. Hughes continued snoring.
    “What is he up to?” she whispered to herself.
    Constance hid beside her tent and watched while the dusky gray outline of Temple’s body shifted and moved against the night. He stood up straight and she saw him drag his hand through his hair in obvious frustration. The sound of his deep-voiced cursing wafted to her from among the mounds of canvas andcrates. Then his tall form bent over and she heard the sound of him rummaging through folds of canvas.
    “He is looking for the carving.” While Constance watched him searching through the back of the wagon, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It gave her a silly surge of satisfaction to know Temple was looking for the very thing she had already found. After his surly attitude and continued disdain for her skills, she was happy to have a moment of pleasure—no matter how small or trivial.
    Perhaps it was an omen, she thought. She had