Read Online Love's Dream Song by Sandra Leesmith - Free Book Online
Authors: Sandra Leesmith
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didn’t blame them. Tomorrow would be an important moment in history.
So far, it seemed a congenial crowd. They would have to stay that way in order to work and live in close proximity for the next few months.
Autumn wondered if there would be problems. Her attention flew to Connie Turner, who sat on her sleeping bag near the four other reporters. The woman grimaced in pain as she rubbed her sore feet. Fortunately, she would only be here a day or two.
Autumn shifted her attention to the assortment of scientists and art experts, who were obviously seasoned campers. Dressed in outdoor gear and sturdy boots, they crouched around the fire.
Two older men were visiting with Dr. Davidson. From the familiar tones between them, Autumn surmised they’d know the professor for a long time—probably from one of his earlier digs. All these years she’d thought her boss was such a loner. It seemed acquaintances were turning up from everywhere.
Jess Barron strummed a guitar and entertained the campers with a medley of western songs. The guitar’s mellow tones and the words to the songs told of adventure and courage; the male tones rang with the power to face them. White teeth flashed in the night as Jess cast rugged smiles to his audience.
Autumn breathed deep to steady her resolve. She’d proceed with caution around Jess Barron—her heart was too bruised for her to allow herself to be set up for more pain. Besides, she had a feeling his attentiveness involved more than just the two of them. Perhaps he did it for show. After all, the scientists and reporters were an impressive group of people.
She flinched at her own cynicism. Not only had Jess been concerned for her welfare, but he’d pitched in and acted as host to the gathering. It was his property, after all, yet she’d never had the feeling before that he was interested in the archaeological secrets buried in this canyon.
Connie Turner crossed her line of vision and blocked Jess from view. The reporter leaned over the singer and handed him a mug. The music stopped and Connie settled down beside him.
Perhaps the reporter was the reason for the unexpected civility. Their laughter drifted into the night and Autumn shifted, suddenly annoyed.
Connie was attractive and she looked similar to the women in two photos Jess had at the ranch. Perhaps blondes were more to his taste.
The reporter’s voice carried across the camp fire. “I could sure use that hot tub you have at your place.”
Jess smiled. “It’s still there. After tomorrow you’ll be back at the ranch.”
“Thank goodness. This primitive stuff is fine for these gung-ho Amazons, but I’ll take wine in crystal, served in the comfort of my bed.”
Jess’s laughter ground Autumn’s annoyance deeper. Amazons, indeed. At least she wasn’t window dressing for her job.
Autumn inwardly groaned, aware of the cattiness of her thoughts. She should be thankful the reporter had Jess’s attention.
She closed her eyes and, for a while, managed to shut out the sight of Jess and the blonde reporter. The breeze fanned her cheeks as she concentrated on the familiar sounds. Under the hum of voices she could hear the song of the tree frog, its cry eerie in the desert night. She longed for the solitude that had been hers this past year.
At first, she’d been frightened of all the night sounds, but now they were welcome. The desert had seemed vast and lonely, but she’d learned to see the beauty that abounded. For several minutes she let the thoughts of that beauty balance her emotions.
“Don’t tell me you’re asleep,” a low voice murmured.
Autumn opened her lids and found herself staring into silver-gray eyes. Unexpected warmth crept in and she smiled at Jess. “It would be impossible in this crowd.” She wondered why he was no longer talking to television’s fashion queen.
“Looks like we have everyone we need for the dig.” Jess surprised her further when he settled on the rock she was leaning against.
So far, it seemed a congenial crowd. They would have to stay that way in order to work and live in close proximity for the next few months.
Autumn wondered if there would be problems. Her attention flew to Connie Turner, who sat on her sleeping bag near the four other reporters. The woman grimaced in pain as she rubbed her sore feet. Fortunately, she would only be here a day or two.
Autumn shifted her attention to the assortment of scientists and art experts, who were obviously seasoned campers. Dressed in outdoor gear and sturdy boots, they crouched around the fire.
Two older men were visiting with Dr. Davidson. From the familiar tones between them, Autumn surmised they’d know the professor for a long time—probably from one of his earlier digs. All these years she’d thought her boss was such a loner. It seemed acquaintances were turning up from everywhere.
Jess Barron strummed a guitar and entertained the campers with a medley of western songs. The guitar’s mellow tones and the words to the songs told of adventure and courage; the male tones rang with the power to face them. White teeth flashed in the night as Jess cast rugged smiles to his audience.
Autumn breathed deep to steady her resolve. She’d proceed with caution around Jess Barron—her heart was too bruised for her to allow herself to be set up for more pain. Besides, she had a feeling his attentiveness involved more than just the two of them. Perhaps he did it for show. After all, the scientists and reporters were an impressive group of people.
She flinched at her own cynicism. Not only had Jess been concerned for her welfare, but he’d pitched in and acted as host to the gathering. It was his property, after all, yet she’d never had the feeling before that he was interested in the archaeological secrets buried in this canyon.
Connie Turner crossed her line of vision and blocked Jess from view. The reporter leaned over the singer and handed him a mug. The music stopped and Connie settled down beside him.
Perhaps the reporter was the reason for the unexpected civility. Their laughter drifted into the night and Autumn shifted, suddenly annoyed.
Connie was attractive and she looked similar to the women in two photos Jess had at the ranch. Perhaps blondes were more to his taste.
The reporter’s voice carried across the camp fire. “I could sure use that hot tub you have at your place.”
Jess smiled. “It’s still there. After tomorrow you’ll be back at the ranch.”
“Thank goodness. This primitive stuff is fine for these gung-ho Amazons, but I’ll take wine in crystal, served in the comfort of my bed.”
Jess’s laughter ground Autumn’s annoyance deeper. Amazons, indeed. At least she wasn’t window dressing for her job.
Autumn inwardly groaned, aware of the cattiness of her thoughts. She should be thankful the reporter had Jess’s attention.
She closed her eyes and, for a while, managed to shut out the sight of Jess and the blonde reporter. The breeze fanned her cheeks as she concentrated on the familiar sounds. Under the hum of voices she could hear the song of the tree frog, its cry eerie in the desert night. She longed for the solitude that had been hers this past year.
At first, she’d been frightened of all the night sounds, but now they were welcome. The desert had seemed vast and lonely, but she’d learned to see the beauty that abounded. For several minutes she let the thoughts of that beauty balance her emotions.
“Don’t tell me you’re asleep,” a low voice murmured.
Autumn opened her lids and found herself staring into silver-gray eyes. Unexpected warmth crept in and she smiled at Jess. “It would be impossible in this crowd.” She wondered why he was no longer talking to television’s fashion queen.
“Looks like we have everyone we need for the dig.” Jess surprised her further when he settled on the rock she was leaning against.
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