Carbon Dating (Nerds of Paradise Book 3) Read online

  Carbon Dating

  Merry Farmer

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright ©2017 by Merry Farmer

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)

  ASIN:

  Paperback:

  ISBN-13: 9781546627005

  ISBN-10: 1546627006

  Click here for a complete list of other works by Merry Farmer.

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  Created with Vellum

  For Julie,

  who is super happy that

  I wrote a book about dinosaurs.

  And bones.

  Chapter One

  “So if you would raise a glass with me, let’s all wish Scott and Casey every kind of happiness as they start their new life together. To the happy couple.”

  Ted Flint raised his glass, saluting his sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law as the rest of the room echoed, “To the happy couple.” A clink of glasses and swell of applause followed. Ted turned to smile at Casey and Scott, who blushed and beamed at the well-wishes. A warm knot formed in his chest. It was such a relief to see Casey happy after everything they’d been through in the past few years.

  As the toasting crowd dispersed, returning to their conversation and sipping champagne, Ted stepped over to give his sister a hug and said, “Mom would be so proud of you.”

  Casey squeezed him tight before stepping back, teary-eyed, and saying, “I know.”

  “Thanks, man.” Scott thumped Ted on the shoulder, filled with emotion himself, but holding it in.

  “It’s the least I could do.” Ted grinned at both of them. “It’s not every day your favorite sister gets engaged.”

  “Ha! I’m your only sister.” Casey cuffed him on the arm. “And when are you going to find a girl and settle down anyhow?”

  Ted rolled his eyes. He would have preferred the tears brought on by thoughts of their mother to the teasing glint in Casey’s eyes. Almost. He shrugged. “I haven’t found the right girl.”

  “That’s what I used to say,” Scott laughed.

  “There are plenty of girls here,” Casey added, nodding to the crowded ballroom of the Cattleman Hotel. They’d booked one of the smaller ballrooms for the engagement party, figuring only friends and family would come, but the event was so well-attended that guests spilled out into the hallways. The Cattleman’s staff had even opened the Haskell history gallery across the hall and moved some of the refreshments in there.

  As much as Ted felt like he should make some sort of flippant comment about meeting someone, for a change, what came out of his mouth was, “Yeah, I’ll look around and see if the future Mrs. Ted Flint is in the room.”

  Casey giggled. But then, everything seemed to make her giggle these days. Ted wasn’t going to complain about that. Casey and Scott were sidetracked by a couple of their friends coming up to give their congratulations, but Ted’s Dad, Roscoe, who had been standing silently to the side of the action, as usual, walked a few paces across the room by Ted’s side.

  “Your sister is right, you know,” Roscoe said, adding a fond smile. “I’d love to see you find someone and settle down like she has. So would Mom. She’d nag you something fierce, if she were here.”

  “I know, Dad.” Ted looped an arm around his dad’s shoulders and gave him a man-hug. “To tell you the truth, now that things have started to settle down with the ranch and with Casey, the idea of dating has crossed my mind.”

  “Good boy.” Roscoe nodded.

  “Don’t start planning a second wedding yet or anything.” Ted went on as they reached the door leading to the hallway. “All I want to do is date for now.”

  “I didn’t say anything about another wedding.” Roscoe winked. “But now that the ranch’s mortgage is paid off, thanks to Scott, and we own the place outright, I’d love to see what a good woman could bring to the table.”

  “Dad.” Ted rolled his eyes and chuckled. “This isn’t the nineteenth century, you know. We don’t marry women for their dowries anymore.”

  “Just joshing.” Roscoe snorted. He pointed down the hall toward the restrooms, then sauntered off.

  Ted hadn’t seen his dad so happy in…well, since his mom died a year and a half ago. He stood where he was in the hall, watching his dad walk away with a rare spring in his step. The whole world felt as though it were in the right place. Maybe it was time for him to think seriously about women. Heaven knew he’d thought not-seriously about them since he was in high school. He’d dated plenty of girls, even got halfway serious with a few. But he hadn’t met the one. And damned if he didn’t suddenly want to.

  He headed across the hall into the Haskell history gallery. He’d visited the long room with its display cases of photographs, artifacts, and newspaper clippings dozens of times before, starting when he was a kid on a class trip. What interested him now were the tables of food laid out along one wall. Standish Catering had outdone themselves yet again. He grabbed a plate and started piling it high with fresh homemade salsa, chips, cocktail shrimp and sauce, and a single broccoli floret in tribute to all the times his mom told him to eat his veggies. He avoided the fancier puff pastries and pates. Who knew what they contained. He’d stick to the things he knew.

  He reached the end of the table and was about to go back to the main room when he spotted a woman with long, dark hair staring intently at one of the cases. Laura Kincade. He knew her by sight, but that was about it. She worked on Scott’s team at Paradise Space Flight, and had become friends with his sister in the past few months. They’d gotten close enough that Casey had asked Laura to be a bridesmaid. But that was where his knowledge of her ended.

  Laura Kincade. Hmm. Why not?

  Plate in one hand, flute of champagne from the toast still in the other, he ambled over to Laura, doing his best to exude cool.

  “You know, the first manager of this hotel was a spy in two different wars,” he began.

  Laura blinked at the card she’d been reading inside the display—one about the area’s prehistoric origins—then
slowly straightened. She took one look at Ted and blinked even more. “What?”

  Ted put on his most charming smile. “Yeah. Theophilus Gunn. He worked as a valet for an English gentleman in the 1850s. The two went off to fight in the Crimean War, where the gentleman was killed. They were both spies. And then, when he came back to America, he was a spy for the Union in the Civil War.”

  “Oh.” Laura continued to blink. “That’s interesting.”

  “I’ve always thought so.” Ted’s suave smile started to slip. He wasn’t sure he was playing this right. Usually girls went giddy over the story of Theophilus Gunn, international spy and man of mystery. “Someone wrote a book about him a couple years back, The Secret Life of Theophilus Gunn.”

  “Neat.” She stood there, bristling with awkwardness.

  Yep, Ted had definitely lost his mojo. Or else Laura wasn’t the kind of girl those sorts of stories worked on. Which was interesting. She was different. He shifted his weight and studied her.

  “I was just reading about the Lower Paleolithic Era in this area.” She gestured to the case with her thumb. “Trying to figure out if there’ve been any big fossil finds nearby, like there have been up in Montana. I’m sort of a dinosaur nut.” She spoke fast, ending by clamping her mouth shut.

  Ted caught himself grinning even before he was aware of how fun her comment was. “Really? I haven’t met a lot of women who like dinosaurs.”

  “Oh, I love them.” She was still nervous, but her eyes lit up with excitement. Blue eyes. They were a pretty contrast to her dark hair. “Last year, before coming to Haskell to take the job at PSF, I traveled to South Africa to help with an excavation being led by Dr. Heinrich Heller. We managed to find the hindquarters and skull of a Massospondylus too, although it may or may not be some other species. A lot of times fossils end up reclassified after analysis and…and I’m boring you. Sorry.” She laughed. An attractive pink blush came to her cheeks.

  “You’re not boring me at all,” Ted said, in spite of the fact that he only had half a clue what she’d said. She was pretty. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed before. Granted, there was nothing special in the way she dressed. She wore a simple green knit dress that came to her knees and boots with it. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. The only word Ted could think of to describe the impact she made on him was “charming.” “South Africa, eh?”

  “Yeah,” she went on, gaining confidence. “That was some trip. The fossils were amazing, but it takes a lot of traveling in less than ideal conditions to get out to where they are. And at one point we ran into some trouble with bandits. They stopped our caravan and demanded money to let us pass.”

  “Really?” Ted’s brow flew up.

  “Yeah.” Her tone turned wary and her blue eyes grew round. “They threatened to take half of the expedition hostage, and I hate to say it, but they kept looking at me. Not exactly fun. It was still better than the time I was with an expedition near the Australian outback and our jeep broke down. You haven’t felt hot until you’ve broken down in the outback.”

  Something warm and tickly passed down Ted’s spine, settling in his groin. “You’ve been to Australia too?”

  Laura shrugged. “What can I say? I’ll go anywhere for a bone.”

  A beat passed, and her face went from pink to beet red.

  She gasped. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean it like that at all. I’m so sorry. That sounded terrible. I definitely don’t mean it like that. Dinosaur bone. Dinosaur. I meant dinosaurs.” She covered her face with her hands.

  She was being genuine. He could tell. It wasn’t just an act, she was mortified. And for whatever reason, that made the blood pump to his groin even harder. It also made his chest feel light. “I forgive you,” he said, unable to control his smile. “I wouldn’t have noticed the slip if you hadn’t pointed it out.” Which wasn’t true. He’d probably spend way more time than he needed to thinking about boning Laura, in spite of her odd ways and unusual demeanor. But that wasn’t going to help put her at ease. “Want a chip?” He held his plate out to her.

  “Uh, thanks.” Slowly, she took her hands away from her face and reached for a chip.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  He paused, no idea what he could say that would make Laura fall head over heels in love with him. Not that he wanted her to. Not seconds after meeting her. Or maybe he did. Love at first sight was a thing, wasn’t it? And if not love, then liking and being interested at first sight.

  “There’s lots of neat stuff in here about Haskell’s early days,” he went on. “There’s a picture of my great-great-great-maybe-one-more-great-grandparents, Jarvis and Alice Flint, over here.”

  He turned to point toward a case farther down the room with the hand that held his champagne flute. Laura was scooping a chip through the salsa on his plate at the same time, and thanks to a combination of bad timing and jerky movements, he lost his grip on the side of the plate. It tipped toward Laura, and she let out a yelp as fresh salsa, shrimp, and sauce spilled down the front of her dress.

  Laura gasped at the cascade of hors d’oeuvres. Of course. Leave it to her to make a mess while talking to a hot guy.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Ted pivoted back from where he had been walking off. “Crap. Uh, here.” He dashed to the refreshment table, putting his plate and champagne flute down, grabbing a handful of napkins, and running back to her.

  “It was my fault.” Laura took a few napkins from him and crouched to clean salsa and shrimp off the floor. “I should have anticipated where you were going.” And if she hadn’t been so overwhelmed by the fact that someone as sweet and attractive as Casey’s brother was talking to her, she would have. Salsa hadn’t been the first thing on her mind when Ted Flint in all of his manly, cowboy glory was standing so close to her. He even smelled good, like some sort of woodsy cologne. Of course, that was probably because of the party but—

  Laura sighed and stood, her hands full of tomato-y napkins. Even her mind rambled like an idiot with Ted so close.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin your dress,” he said, dabbing the rest of the napkins over the spot on the front of her dress where the salsa had impacted. A spot halfway between her ribs and her hips. Even with layers of clothes, the pressure of his touch sent shockwaves through her. “Oh, sorry,” Ted said when she flinched. He pulled back, studying the front of her with a dubious expression. “Uh, you might want to do something about that.”

  Panic raced down Laura’s spine. Did she look fat? Was he telling her to lose weight? Were her leggings too dorky? No, wait, duh. She had salsa all down her front. Like the dweeb she was.

  “Here,” he said, changing his tone and reaching for her hand. “I know where we can clean that up.”

  She took his hand and let him lead her through the history gallery, highly aware of the handful of other people in the room staring. Although they might have just been glancing their way instead of staring outright.

  It wasn’t until they made it to the hall that Laura regained the presence of mind to say, “You don’t have to help me clean up. I’m sure you have other people you want to talk to.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “My mom always taught me that if I made a mess, it was my job to clean it up.”

  In the back of Laura’s mind, she remembered that Casey and Ted’s mom had passed away not that long ago. It was enough of a jolt to keep her from dragging Ted to a stop and insisting he find something better to do.

  “I’m not usually a slob,” she said as he led her deeper down the hall where the ballrooms were. “In fact, I’m usually pretty meticulous about things. You have to be, both in designing rockets and digging up dinosaurs, which are my two favorite things.”

  Great, Laura. Her subconscious gave her a swift kick in the backside. Way to sound like a total loser.

  “Lucky you,” Ted said with an endearing little laugh. “I usually come back to the house after working with the herd all day looking and smelling like
one of the bulls.”

  She laughed. Mostly because she didn’t know how else to react. The images that came to her mind were of Ted in tight-fitting jeans and cowboy boots…his shirt open to reveal chiseled abs and hard pecs, just a hint of rakish stubble on his rugged jaw…a red-hot brand in one hand…which had to be symbolic of something naughty, the way her imagination worked.

  She shook her head to clear away the inconvenient image as they came to a door with the discreet outline of a woman and small children on a plate to the side. He knocked, then pushed open the door to the family restroom.

  “This ought to do it.” He let go of her hand, motioning her toward the sink.

  Laura turned on the tap, but Ted beat her to pulling a few paper towels out of the dispenser. “You really don’t have to go to all this trouble,” she said. “I’ve had worse.”

  “Like what? Stepping in dinosaur poop?”

  A jolt of excitement hit her right in the belly. She giggled before she could stop herself. “No, silly. Dinosaur poop is solid rock. At least now it is. A couple million years ago, it was a different story.”

  “I see.” He crossed his arms and frowned with mock seriousness as she ran the paper towels under the tap.

  “I have stepped in camel poop before,” she went on, rubbing at the salsa skid marks with a handful of wet paper towels. “And believe, me, that’s not something you want to do.”

  “Was this on your trip to South Africa?” he asked.

  “No, there aren’t a lot of camels in South Africa. I was in the Army and did a short tour in Iraq. Really short. I took some shrapnel from an IED in my leg about three weeks after getting there.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “‘It’ll just be a desk job,’ they said. ‘You won’t be anywhere near danger,’ they said. Like you could guarantee something like that back then.”

  It hit her about three sentences too late that she was rambling about stuff no one would be interested in. She glanced up at Ted only to find him staring at her, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.