Innocent Blood(8)

In front of her, the edge of the sun touched the top of rolling hills.

“We should head back soon!” Nate called to her. “Sun will be down in another half hour!”

She heard the trace of anxiety in his voice. Back in Rome, Nate had been trapped in darkness for days, tortured in those shadows. Night probably held a certain terror for him.

Recognizing this now, she knew she shouldn’t have agreed to let him come along. But, earlier in the afternoon, after failing to reach Cardinal Bernard by phone, she had headed out of her office to burn off some of her anxiety. Nate had asked her where she was going, and foolishly she had allowed him to accompany her.

These last months, she had trouble saying no to him. After the tragic events in Israel and Rome, he continued to struggle, even more than she did, although he rarely spoke about it. She tried to be there for him, to help him bear the memories that had been thrust upon him. It was the least that she could do.

In the past, their relationship had been an easygoing one—as long as she pretended not to notice his attraction to her. But since she had fallen for Jordan, Nate had retreated into remote professionalism. But was it because of hurt feelings, anger, or something else?

Sadly, after tonight, it probably wouldn’t matter.

She inwardly sighed. Maybe it was just as well that Nate had accompanied her on this ride. This moment offered her the perfect opportunity to speak to him in private.

She slowed Blackjack with a slight tension on the reins. Nate drew alongside her with Gunsmoke. He grinned at her, which broke off a piece of her heart. But he had to be told. Better to tell him now, before Christmas break, to give him time to get used to the idea.

She took a deep breath. “Nate, there’s something I want to talk about.”

Nate tilted his straw Stetson up and looked sidelong at her. Their horses walked side by side on the wide path. “What is it?”

“I talked to the dean this morning. I suggested the names of other professors whom you might be interested in working with.”

His eyebrows pinched with concern. “Did I do something wrong? It’s been tough since we got back, but—”

“Your work has always been excellent. It’s not about you.”

“Feels like it might be, seeing as how I’m involved and all.”

She kept her eyes focused between her horse’s soft black ears. “After what happened in Israel . . . I’m not so certain I’m the best choice for you.”

He reached for Blackjack’s bridle and slowed both horses to a stop. “What are you talking about?”

Erin faced him. He appeared both worried and angry. “Look, Nate. The university isn’t happy that I lost two grad students.”

“Hardly your fault.”

She talked over him. “The dean feels that it might be best if I took a sabbatical to clear my head.”

“So I’ll wait.” Nate folded his hands atop his saddle horn. “Not a problem.”

“You don’t understand.” She fiddled with her reins, wanting to snap them and flee this conversation on horseback, but she let the hard truth hold her in place. “Nate, I think this is the first step toward the university letting me go.”

His mouth dropped open.

She spoke quickly, getting it all out. “You don’t need your dissertation tied to a professor about to be booted out. You’re a brilliant scientist, Nate, and I’m sure we can find you a more suitable adviser—someone who can open doors for you that I can’t anymore.”

“But—”

“I appreciate your loyalty,” she said. “But it’s misguided.”

Outrage flared from him. “Like hell it is!”

“Nate, it won’t help me if you stay. Whatever is going to happen to my career will happen.”

“But I picked you as my adviser because you’re the best in your field.” The anger drained from him, leaving him sagging in the saddle. “The very best. And that hasn’t changed.”

“Who knows? This may blow over in time.”

Truthfully, Erin didn’t expect it would, and down deep, she wasn’t even sure she wanted it to. Earlier in her career, academia had offered her a haven of rationality after her strict religious upbringing, but it didn’t feel like enough anymore. She remembered her difficulty with her classes this past semester. She couldn’t keep teaching lies.

And she couldn’t be any less truthful with Nate now.

“Even if it does blow over,” she said, “you will have lost valuable opportunities while it does. I won’t let that happen.”

Nate looked ready to argue, to protest. Perhaps sensing his stress, his mare tossed her head and danced slightly on her forelegs.