North Dakota Weddings (41 page)

“Scandal?”

He wanted to kiss the top of her head, smell her hair. Reassure her. “Yes.” Skipping the details, he summarized what happened before. “I can’t afford any more humiliation—not at this juncture of fund-raising, not at this point in my life.”

“I thought you were…” She sagged, leaning against the workbench.

Not caring if anyone saw him, Brandon gripped her arms and looked her in the eyes. “You thought right. I want to spare you and your brother any humiliation as well. Amber, I…”
love you
.

Finally, his heart had voiced the truth.

“Looks like I made it back just in time.” Jim stood inside the door, hands on his hips.

Brandon quickly released Amber and shoved a hand through his hair. “Jim, welcome back.”

Jim’s cell rang and, to Brandon’s relief, the conversation drew him out of receiving. Taking the opportunity, Brandon turned his attention back to Amber. “You’ve done all you can do today. I don’t want Jim questioning you. Why don’t you get out of here?”

Amber grabbed his hand, letting his fingers slip through hers. “Thank you for believing me about Michael.”

She left him standing there and, as he watched her walk out, a morbid thought slammed him.
Oh Lord, please don’t let her be using me, playing me
.

That’s exactly what Jim would think, once he found out. And he would. Brandon ground his teeth. He cared way too much about what the man thought about him. But maybe that was Brandon’s biggest problem—his validation came from others.

Brandon needed time to pray.

Leaving the museum, he headed home for dinner, wishing he’d thought to invite Amber out to eat, but then again, he needed time to think. After he’d skimmed the snail mail, checked his e-mail, and eaten dinner, Brandon took a short nap so he’d be alert for the work ahead of him. Waking after dark, he wanted nothing more than a good, long run, and changed into his running shoes and clothes. Everything was happening too fast, including his relationship with Amber.

He needed a clear head and, more importantly, a clear heart.

Locking the door behind him, Brandon headed down the street, planning to jog the Little Missouri trail to add a few extra miles. The good thing—he had plenty on his mind to keep his thoughts off the ache in his legs and burn in his lungs.

Five years ago when he’d experienced a meltdown, losing everything he’d worked for, Brandon had turned to God. His mother had raised him in church, but he’d never really believed God was personal. While he might have gained knowledge during the course of his education, he’d lost his belief in God, completely. Or so he’d thought.

Then disaster happened, and he remembered the One who’d created him. Or rather, God remembered
him
. Through his desperation, he’d found a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Always a stellar student, he’d studied and learned all he could about his Savior through the Word, enough that Pastor John had invited him to teach Bible study.

Why, then, did he feel as if he were going through it all over again—as if his life had spun out of control? God had given him another chance, as it were, and now? Would he lose everything again? He’d somehow gotten into his head, and possibly his heart, that becoming a Christian, trusting in God, meant he wouldn’t have to suffer as he had before.

Breathing hard, Brandon savored entering “the zone”—that place where the endorphins kicked in. Running along the tree-lined trail, he came to the same place where he’d collided with Amber the first time they’d met.

He stopped and leaned against his legs, catching his breath. Even though he carried his flashlight, the moon shone bright enough for him to see, except when the clouds interfered.

God had given the moon to light the way for nocturnal creatures. Whether full or hidden, it was always there, watching. A raccoon moseyed past as though it hadn’t noticed him, or didn’t care. An idea began to form.

Why didn’t I think of it before?

A
t the cabin, Amber sat across the table from her brother and watched Muriel flirt with him. The girl was relentless. No matter. At least it gave Amber more time to consider things, and kept Michael from noticing her complete anguish.

She’d agonized all night—all day, too, but Brandon had kept her busy searching for the missing artifact. It warmed her heart that he wanted to make certain the mistake hadn’t been on their part before calling the police. He’d made every attempt to believe her regarding Michael.

More than anything, she wished she could have basked in his attention. Instead the missing artifact and her brother’s proximity to the circumstances, along with his appearance back in her life, eclipsed her relationship with the man she loved.

The man she loved? Despite her gloomy thoughts, she found herself smiling.

Amber suddenly noticed that both Muriel and Michael were staring at her.

“She’s a million miles away,” Michael said to Muriel.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking.” Amber smiled.

Michael laughed and pushed back from the table. “Thanks for dinner, ladies. It’s getting late, and I think I might have overstayed my welcome.”

Amber stood as well. “Can I talk to you outside for a sec?”

Michael chuckled. “Sure.” He said goodnight to Muriel then headed out the door.

Amber tried to follow but Muriel tugged her back. “You were holding out on me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your brother. He’s cute. You could have set me up.”

“Not now, Muriel.”

Looking miffed, Muriel let Amber go.

Once on the porch, she found Michael waiting for her.

“I could tell you were distracted all evening,” he said.

Amber hated the gloomy look on his face. He thought it was about him—that she wasn’t happy to be in his company. “Something’s come up.”

He cocked his brow, waiting. Muriel was right—Michael was a real catch. Except that he’d practically ruined his life. Amber sighed.

“There’s no easy way to say this. A relic has gone missing at the museum. We spent all day searching for it.”

Michael appeared stricken. Tightening his jaw, he turned away.

Fearing he would leave, she grabbed his arm. “Michael, please, you have to believe me. I’m not accusing you. I want to believe you had nothing to do with it. But…”

He stared at something in the distance, frowning. “I won’t ever live down my mistake, will I?”

“I don’t know.”

“And the director—the one Muriel seems to think has feelings for you—he knows about me, then?” Michael searched her eyes.

The knot in her throat kept her from speaking. She nodded.

Michael released a long, slow breath. “I shouldn’t have come within a hundred miles of you.”

What was he saying? That he’d been tempted and fallen again? Was it like some sort of addiction?

“Say something, Amber.”

Pain squeezed her chest. “I want to believe you’re innocent. And so does Bran—Dr. Selman.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

Amber gave a soft smile. “Yes, I do,” she whispered. But would her brother destroy this part of her life, too?

Lord, I forgive him
. She closed her eyes.
Please, help me
.

“Tell me about the artifact.”

Her eyes flew open. “Why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I can help. Find out who would want it.”

“But couldn’t getting involved implicate you somehow?”

“From the looks of it, I’m
already
implicated.”

“All you have to say is that you’re not involved. I’ll stand by you.” Amber held her breath, hoping.

“I promise you, I had nothing to do with it.”

She released the pent-up air then told him about the artifact.

Even under the dim porch light, Amber could see Michael’s face go pale.

Oh Lord, no
…

Sitting in the small room they’d set aside for security, Brandon logged into the DVR software and selected the date in question and multiple video channels, viewing them simultaneously on the screen. He watched for any anomalies. If it turned out the artifact was in fact stolen, the police would want to view this, he was sure, once he contacted them. If he had looked right away, he could possibly have resolved the biggest question—was the artifact stolen or not?

Rubbing his neck to relieve the stiffness, he reviewed the segment from today when Amber had approached him and taken his hand. He recalled the way her simple touch made him feel. Watching it now, he relived that moment.

Then, of course, during the tender interlude they’d tried to avoid all day, Jim had walked in.

This looked very bad for Brandon. Professionally, he couldn’t afford a stolen artifact, or involvement with a woman whose brother was convicted of stealing artifacts.

And personally…

Hands over his face, he rested his elbows on the small desk. “Why, God?”

From the beginning, he’d been against having an intern, a protégé. Yet he found himself in a similar situation as before—only this time, roles were reversed.

He’d been the one to fall in love. Thankfully, his affections were returned.

Wanting to review Jim’s reaction, he played back the video, but accidentally selected to rewind the recording.

“Stupid.” He began searching the video then stopped, freezing the frame.

The time and date stamp display indicated Tuesday night. Hadn’t he been working late that night?

As he watched the playback of the entire segment, a sinking feeling hit his stomach. He never appeared in the video—but he’d been in the room that night.

“What the…?”

Someone obviously made adjustments to the video. “Clue number one.”

This was bad news for the museum. More scandal. Jim took care of security—would he bear the brunt of it this time?

Brandon attempted to sign in to the system administration in order to view the log, which recorded all system and operator activities, but he was denied access. He didn’t usually keep up with password changes. Jim kept it written somewhere. Brandon left the security room to pay Jim’s office a visit, uncertain exactly where he might find the password.

After unlocking the door to Jim’s office, Brandon stepped inside. On a hunch, he knew it was better to search the man’s office than call him for the password. Still, shame engulfed him. His cell buzzed in his pocket. Tugging it free, he found a text message from Amber.

N
EWS ABOUT THE ARTIFACT
. M
EET ME AT THE MUSEUM
?

“Could she have clue number two?” He texted her back that he was already at the museum and would wait for her.

Standing in the dark, in another man’s office, Brandon had the odd sense he was being watched. He felt like a criminal himself and flipped on the light.

A man hovered in the corner. Brandon froze.

“Jason?”

A
mber clenched the door handle as Michael drove into the museum parking lot. Finally, he slowed to a stop. The parking lot was empty. “That’s strange. Why isn’t Brandon’s Jeep here?”

“You told him it was important, right?” Michael turned off the engine. “And even if you didn’t, I can’t imagine him not wanting to see you.” He flashed a grin and a wink.

“Thanks for dropping me off.” Before she opened the door, she gave Michael a side glance.

He gripped her arm. “I’m going with you.”

“You can’t. We’ve been over this. I don’t want you to put one foot in that museum.” Amber’s heart thumped louder.

“If Brandon’s car were here, sure, yeah, I could drop you off. But not like this. It isn’t safe.”

“I’ll be all right. You don’t have to do this.”

“What kind of brother would I be to let you go alone, knowing the situation. Besides, I’m innocent, and…it’s the right thing to do.” He slipped from the car.

Amber did the same, and together, she and Michael hurried to the front door, discovering it was locked. Because of her late hours while working on the exhibits, she’d been given keys.

Once inside, she walked through the dimly lit museum, Michael close behind. Amber spotted light at the end of the hallway.

She started that way, but Michael grabbed her arm. “Wait. This wasn’t a good idea.”

“Brandon is here. He said he would be here.”

Michael exhaled. “Just be careful.”

They hurried down the quiet hallway. Brandon’s office door stood open, but he wasn’t inside. “He’s got to be here somewhere. Let’s split up,” she said.

“Not a good idea. This could be dangerous if the wrong people are here. We’ll find him together.”

“Do you really think the thief is running around in the museum tonight?”

Michael’s look sent shudders over her. “I don’t want you to get hurt. For too long, I blamed myself for what happened to Mom and Emily. Even though God helped me to forgive myself, I’m not sure what I would do if you were to get hurt because of me.”

“Because of you? This has nothing to do with you.”

“We’re here right now, because of me, and we’re wasting time. Let’s look around.”

“I’ll call him on his cell.” The cell went straight to voice mail. “Brandon, we’re here at the museum. Call me back.” She texted him as well, but got no response.