Free Better Than Gold by Mary Brady Page A

didn’t like the way this was going. “Just a couple of quick inspections. Why?”
    “There’s a section of the floor that’s been dug up.”
    Mia thought back to when she had toured the basement the second time to make sure it could be used for storage.
    “One of the previous owners was doing something in the furnace room, but I have no idea what.” Or nothing she’d admit to—digging for treasure. Mia descended the last three stairs, and the smell of old dirt and mustiness grew stronger, until she stopped beside him. Then it smelled like— mmm —man.
    “Not in the furnace room.” When he spoke she realized she might have zoned out a bit because he took a step away from her.
    “Somewhere else? Oh, not rats. The digging didn’t look rodentlike, did it?”
    His expression lightened and she knew she must be wearing what Monique called her hilarious horrified gape. She closed her mouth.
    “In the old cold storage room, where the floor is still dirt and not concrete. Dug up with a shovel and probably a pickax. The dirt in that floor has been packed down by a couple centuries of use and neglect, so dug up by a very determined digger.”
    “Freshly dug, I suppose.” She knew she should go inspect the hole, but she liked being just where she was. Maybe she even wanted to step closer, to take back that step he had taken away.
    “Yes, and then someone tried to refill it, but you can imagine how that went. Ten pounds in a five-pound bag.”
    Treasure hunters. She wondered if the trickle was already a full running stream. Or maybe just her three workers.
    “I guess I should take a look.”
    She envisioned Charlie, Rufus and Stella each with a pickax in their hands, or maybe it was Mickey and Tim. Smiling politely she stepped calmly around her guest. Was he just a friendly visitor? Or was he an enemy?
    The old storage room, an erstwhile hold for potatoes, apples, turnips and anything that would keep in the earth-chilled room for the winter had previously had only stone walls, a dirt floor and a couple of old crates, no hole.
    When she entered the back room, a shiver ran down her body. There was no mistaking the disturbance.
    “Someone digging for treasure?” He sounded amused from behind her.
    She wanted to punch him for that. Good thing she only had violent thoughts and not actions. Someone digging for treasure . There were already so many suspects.
    Slowly, turning to face him, she said, “Please, don’t mention digging for treasure in this town. The people around here do not need any encouragement.”
    He nodded. “You won’t get any argument from an anthropologist. Treasure hunters are a bane for any—er—archeological site.”
    She laughed. “Thanks for not saying dig .”
    “I’m finished down here for now if you’d like to go up where it’s warmer.”
    “Warmer would be good.”
    She put her flashlight in her pocket and they marched in silence across the old floor and up the steps. Halfway up she wondered if Daniel was watching her butt. She was a warm-blooded woman; she’d be watching his. What if he wasn’t watching? She wanted in the worst way to catch him in the act, whichever it was, but she trudged on wondering if her jeans were too tight.
    Speaking of jeans. The more she saw how well this guy wore his holey ones, the more she liked them, and his raggedy sweater, as well. His slumming clothes. She couldn’t imagine his teaching clothes would look this good.
    In fact, he probably looked really, really good with no clothes at all.
    He followed her to the front room, where the morning light filtered in through the windows. She tried not to inhale too noticeably as he stopped beside her. Apparently, nothing could dampen her suddenly awakened sense of the male side of the planet. Unless, maybe, he decided to tell her he’d come to ruin her life completely.
    “I have given a cursory check of the contents of the boxes. Are you interested in having a look?”
    When she glanced at him, there was