Miranda's Viking by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne [Shayne, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Romance, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780373075683
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 1994-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Midnight. They'd moved to the living room and Rolf had insisted on building a fire in the hearth, though she explained about central heating and argued that it was a warm night, anyway. Miranda rested in her father's favorite chair, a worn corduroy recliner. Her feet were up, her head back, and she held a cup of steaming cocoa in her hands, as Rolf went on with his tale.

"Of course the man was drunk. Had no business being on a dragon ship with that much ale in his belly. But Svein was never known for his wisdom. A fight ensued, and the fool lost his balance and plunged into the icy waters."

"That's terrible."

Rolf agreed. "Yes. Svein had a wife and seven children. My father threw himself over the side. Had I known what he intended I would have tried to stop him. When I saw him in the water I tried to go in after him, but the other men held me fast. I was but—" he hesitated, mentally counting "—twelve years. It was my first time on my father's drakkar."

Miranda brought the recliner down and leaned forward in the seat. "What happened?"

"Father caught hold of Svein. Nearly drowned the way Svein floundered about. Finally my father hit him and, while Svein was senseless, dragged him to the side. A rope was tossed over and both men were brought back onto the ship."

Miranda relaxed then. "You must have been very proud of him," she said softly.

Rolf smiled. "My chest was puffed up for the rest of that trip."

She tried to imagine Rolf at twelve, but failed. Twelve… it had been a painful age for her.

"I see the sadness again in your eyes, Miranda. Tell me."

She was amazed at his perceptiveness. "I was twelve when my mother died. It was ovarian cancer. By the time we learned she was ill, it had progressed too far. A month later she was gone."

"And you stepped into her place, cared for your father."

"Yes. I began working with him right away. It was as if we both needed something to focus on." She curled her legs beneath her in the chair and sipped the cocoa. "At first I just helped transcribe notes, but I became fascinated with the work. When I was fourteen I went with him to a site in England, one of your people's burial mounds. My first dig." She smiled fondly at the memory. "We sifted the dirt, Rolf, and found bits and pieces of the past."

"And you loved this… sifting?"

She nodded hard and felt another smile tugging at her lips. "I still do. The sifting, the exploring. It's been my life."

"And what of Morsi?"

"Jeff?" She blinked and averted her gaze. "If you don't mind, I'd just as soon not discuss that with you. It's… personal."

"You wished to wed him." It was a flat statement, given without inflection.

"Darryl has been talkative, hasn't he?"

Rolf shrugged. "That you despise him is obvious. His manner toward you suggests… familiarity."

"You are mastering the language in a hurry.

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