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self-satisfied smile.
    He didn’t begrudge her the find. But he sure as hell hated that she’d managed to make him look like a fool.
    “Where’d you find them?”
    “A couple of yards north of where you were harvesting your rocks.” She decided the way annoyance narrowed his eyes almost made up for the sword. “You were so busy I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
    “Yeah. I bet.”
    “Spanish.” Ray stared down at the coin nestled in his palm. “Seventeen thirty-three. This could be it. The date’s right.”
    “Could be from the other ships,” Matthew responded. “Time, current, storms—they spread things out.”
    “They could just as easily be from the Isabella or Santa Marguerite.” There was a fever in Buck’s eyes. “Ray and me, we’ll concentrate on the area where you found these.” He rose from his crouched position, held out a coin to Tate. “These’ll go in the kitty. But I figure you ought to keep one, for yourself. That sit right with you, Matthew?”
    “Sure.” He shrugged his shoulders before turning to the ice chest. “No big deal.”
    “It is to me,” Tate murmured as she accepted the coin from Buck. “It’s the first time I’ve ever found coins. Pieces of eight.” She laughed and leaned forward to give Buck an impulsive kiss. “What a feeling.”
    His ruddy cheeks darkened. Women had always remained a mystery to him and mostly at a distance. “You hold on to it—that feeling. Sometimes it’s a long stretch before you have it again.” He slapped Ray on the back. “Let’s suit up, partner.”
    Within thirty minutes, the second team was under way. Marla had spread out a drop cloth and was busily chipping away at the conglomerate. Tate postponed lunch to clean the silver coins.
    Nearby, Matthew sat on the deck and polished off his second BLT. “I tell you, Marla, I might just shanghai you. You sure have a way of putting food together.”
    “Anybody can make a sandwich.” Her hammer rang in counterpoint to her molasses-drenched voice. “You’ll have to have dinner with us, Matthew. Then you’ll see what cooking’s all about.”
    He was sure he heard Tate’s teeth gnash. “Love to. I can run over to Saint Kitts for you if you need any supplies.”
    “That’s very sweet.” She’d changed into work shorts and an oversized shirt, and was sweating. Somehow she still managed to look like a Southern belle planning a tea party. “I could use a little fresh milk to make biscuits.”
    “Biscuits? Marla, for homemade biscuits, I’d swim back from the island with the whole cow.”
    He was rewarded by her quick, infectious laughter.“Just a gallon will do me. Oh, not this minute,” she said, waving him back when he started to rise. “Plenty of time. You enjoy your lunch and the sunshine.”
    “Stop trying to charm my mother,” Tate said under her breath.
    Matthew scooted closer. “I like your mother. You’ve got her hair,” he murmured. “Her eyes, too.” He picked up another section of sandwich, bit in. “Too bad you don’t take after her otherwise.”
    “I also have her delicate bone structure,” Tate said with a clench-toothed smile.
    Matthew took his time with his study. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
    Suddenly uncomfortable, she shifted back an inch. “You’re crowding me,” she complained. “Just like you do on a dive.”
    “Here, take a bite.” He held out the sandwich, nearly plowing it into her mouth so that she had little choice but to accept. “I’ve decided you’re my good-luck charm.”
    Rather than choke, she swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”
    “There’s a nice Southern flow to the way you say that,” he observed. “Just a hint of ice under the honey. My good-luck charm,” he repeated. “Because you were around when I found the sword.”
    “You were around when I found it.”
    “Whatever. There are a couple of things I don’t turn my back on. A man with greed in his eyes, a woman with fire in hers.” He offered Tate more of the