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outside,” she said because she didn’t want him to witness the indignity of her having to get up and clean off her butt.
    He didn’t respond nor did he go away.
    “You’re early.” She worked hard to remain pleasant, because she certainly wasn’t getting any nice back from this guy.
    “And you’re tampering with evidence.”
    “Old evidence.” She kept her tone even.
    “Tampering with a protected archeological site.” When he walked toward her, the bulb hanging from the ceiling spread better light on his face, his scowling face.
    Scowl or not, it was a great face. Rugged. Two or three days’ worth of very dark beard growth. Hair a bit too neat for her liking, but tousled by the morning’s wind. Dark brown, almost black eyes, if the light coming from above gave a true indication.
    He stopped in front of her, tall and lean, and relaxing his frown he held out his hand.
    She studied him a second longer. Warm, comfortable in an old gray sweater and jeans with holes. Shoes of good leather, scuffed on the toes. Monique would like this one. Heck, she liked the look of this one herself, and she didn’t like many.
    He frowned again and started to pull his hand away, but she reached out and grabbed hold. His warm palm met hers and his fingers wrapped securely around her hand. Indeed, strong. He pulled her from the floor as if she weighed as little as her twenty-year-old-waif self, not her current self with eight more years of growth. There had to be muscles under those raggedy clothes. Maybe even a six-pack. Ooooh. She hadn’t seen one of those in a while. Maybe she wouldn’t even let Monique meet this one.
    ...for crying out loud...
    She steadied herself, let go and stepped back. This was the guy who could let her get her people back to work, maybe as early as this afternoon, so she gave him her brightest smile and resisted the urge to pat the dust off her butt.
    “When the chief told me the university was sending a professor from the anthropology department, I...well...I sort of thought more gray hair and possibly a larger waistline. Guess I should have taken the time to visit the website.” She wanted to wink. Heck, she wanted to wolf whistle. She just smiled harder.
    He frowned. “What are you doing in here?”
    So much for making light of an awkward situation. “I’m waiting for Chief Montcalm. He should be here anytime now.”
    “Waiting with your hand in the hole?”
    “Yes. You caught me with—” Deciding not to be part of the let’s-be-grumpy game, she refused to look at his scowling face and softened her tone. “If anyone has reason to be annoyed, it’s the guy in the wall—er—boxes. He’s been waiting a very long time to be discovered.”
    “Did you move anything or touch anything?”
    Now she looked up at him. “I wanted to. I wanted to tear the whole wall down and put in a dining room, but I’ve been waiting, I think rather patiently, doing everything I possibly could that didn’t involve actually doing the work in here that has to be done. I have a business I’m trying to get up and running.” All right, maybe she would play grumpy.
    “And I have to decide whether or not there is historical significance to this site.” He didn’t look very pleased with the prospect.
    She eyed him for an a-ha moment. “You drew the short straw.” She raised her eyebrows to make the statement a question.
    This made his face relax. Made him handsome.
    A hint of a smile curled his sharply carved masculine lips. “You’re right. It’s not your fault they sent me to...”
    “...a town the world seems to have forgotten?” she finished for him.
    “I don’t really mind being here. It looks to be a charming place.”
    She tried to gauge his sincerity and couldn’t decide. “It could be a charming town again, will be, if we can make some changes.”
    He held out his hand toward her, this time in greeting. “I’m Dr. Daniel MacCarey. I teach anthropology at the university.”
    She took his hand