“But do you not see, my dear? This would be a prime opportunityfor you to send Miss Penny to school while you gain some worldly exposure that I daresay will be good for you.” With far too much familiarity, Mrs. Mortimer reached out and straightened Eva’s hat, her lips pursing. “Why, a young lady such as yourself ought not be cooped up way out in the country all alone. Who knows? You may meet some dashing count or baron, or mayhap even a prince, who will sweep you off your feet.”
Bah. The thought of meeting any man other than Bram didn’t interest her in the least, and she didn’t care two figs for traveling the world. The only thing of value in Mrs. Mortimer’s speech was the point she made about Penny, for more and more often she did think it would be good for her sister to go to school.
She traced her finger along the edge of the counter. “How long does Mrs. Pempernill expect to be in Tuscany?”
“I cannot say for certain, but I should think at least the better part of a year. Tut-tut!” Mrs. Mortimer wagged her finger in the air. “I see the objection in the downturn of your mouth. Naturally, you and your sister shall correspond, so there is no need to plague yourself about Miss Penny being heartsick over your absence. I should think it will be a growing experience for both of you. Please, my dear, at least consider this opportunity, for I don’t know of any others. Many a young woman would jump at the chance.”
Eva gnawed on her fingernail, chewing on the information. It might not hurt to at least inquire about the details of Mrs. Pempernill’s employment offer in case Trinity College didn’t agree to purchase those relics and she couldn’t afford to pay the property taxes. Eva had never traveled any farther than Cambridge, and Tuscany did have its charms, or so she’d heard. She could put Penny in the boarding school that was so enthusiastically encouraged by Mrs. Mortimer. After all, her sister had hungrily been learning so much from Bram and the students that she truly would relish the hope of getting a proper education.
And as Mrs. Mortimer had pointed out, there weren’t any other opportunities out there.
Bram leaned over his uncle’s shoulder, eyes narrowing on the bone needle sitting atop the man’s upturned palm. A cool morning breeze wafted through the canvas flap of the work tent. Winter would soon call in earnest, but thankfully they’d had a somewhat balmy reprieve from the recent storm, and the snow had completely melted.
Uncle Pendleton glanced up at him. “What do you think, Professor?”
“I think your assessment is one hundred percent correct. That does appear to be a second-century—”
A harsh grunt of pain came from outside, followed by an anguished cry for help.
Bram took off running, heart in his throat. He should have been out with the students instead of tarrying over his uncle’s latest find. His boots sank into the damp earth with each pounding step, the cries of pain growing louder as he closed in on the huddle of young men at the far side of the field.
Barker was on the ground. Mostly. One of his legs was buried knee deep, the other bent beneath him. Hammet and Wimble each had hold of one of his arms, yanking him upward—and with each pull Barker let out an unearthly yowl.
“Stop tugging on him, lads!” Bram pulled alongside them. “Just support him.”
Sidestepping Hammet, he crouched beside Barker just as Uncle Pendleton wheezed behind him. “Easy now, Barker. We will get you out of here, I promise. Where is the worst pain? Foot, ankle, shin?”
Barker winced. “It’s my ankle. Feels like it’s caught on something.”
Uncle Pendleton laid a hand on Bram’s shoulder, speakingfor his ears alone. “We don’t want to exacerbate his injury, yet at the same time we cannot afford to damage any relics that may be down there.”
Bram rubbed the back of his neck as he formulated a plan. Uncle was right. If there were antiquities in that hole, tearing into it would damage the goods. But neither would he subject Barker to further suffering. He glanced at the sky, as if some miraculous answer might be found amongst the gathering clouds. Fabulous. Rain would only compound the problem. He had to do something. Now.
He turned to the other two students. “Let him go, boys. Wimble, grab the long shovel from the work tent. Hammet, get the rope off the wagon.”
As they scrambled to do his bidding, Bram once again squatted next to Barker. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was just digging with my hand trowel, Professor, nothing out of the ordinary, when I decided to explore this pile of rock and scrub.” His curly hair ruffled wild in the breeze, the tips of his ears as red as his cheeks.
Bram topped the man’s head with his own hat for some warmth. “Then what?”
Barker leaned back on his elbows. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure what happened. It was like the earth just opened its maw and took a bite of me. I couldn’t pull out my leg, so I called the lads to help ... and so you found me.”
“Hmm.” Bram’s mind raced as he reached for Barker’s forgotten trowel lying on the rocky soil. Perhaps if he poked around a bit, he’d find the source of the strange sinkhole. He could only pray itwasa natural formation and not another act of the cursed acres or, worse, a saboteur.
Uncle Pendleton pawed away some rubble on the other side of Barker’s leg. Shortly thereafter, the other two students returned.
Bram peered up at them. “Hammet, tie that rope aroundBarker’s waist in case we need to pull him out quickly. Wimble, help me loosen this top layer of soil. Take over where Professor Pendleton has been working. And Professor Pendleton—”
“No need to tell me what to do.” His uncle straightened, pressing his hand to the small of his back with a slight groan. “I shall keep a sharp eye for structural instability lest we all end up in the depths of hades.”
They set to work, carefully, methodically, and after an eternity, Bram finally reached the source of Barker’s predicament—two large rocks pinning his calf in place.
“Egad!” Hammet gawked at the exposed rocks. “How are you going to get his leg out of there?”
“Amputation?” Wimble chuckled.
“Now see here!” Barker bellowed. “I will not allow anyone to—”
