Craved
Chapter 13

Renee:

Renee opened her tent flap and surveyed the campsite while the smell of bacon and coffee filled her nostrils. A few of the others were milling about. Some even worked on the same patch of earth they had in the last two days while Damon did his disappearing act into his tent.

Well, she wasn't going to wait around for him. Sun glittered off a pick lying near the assemblage. Striding forward, Renee snatched up the tool. "Don't forget to put away your tools at night." She wiped the dew off the metal. "Mine's trying to rust now." Even though it wasn't her pick, she'd rather take the blame than point fingers. "Let's focus our efforts and get this area on the edge cleared out today."

Why Damon had each of them working in a different area on the grid, she didn't understand. It made more sense to her to combine efforts and excavate one area at a time.

Larry dragged his feet toward her, his head slightly down. "Sorry, that's my pick. I forgot it last night."

"Just be careful next time. Someone could've tripped over it." The last thing she needed was an injury on her watch.

"Sure boss."

She liked the sound of that, but she wasn't in charge. "Damon's the boss. I'm just an assistant."

Larry glanced behind her to Damon's tent. "Well, you're the only one organizing and helping us while the boss man does whatever."

"Just concentrate on the job." She patted his shoulder. "I'm sure Damon will come around." Eventually, if not, she'd confront him herself.

***

Renee logged the last artifact they'd uncovered today and clicked her pen closed. At first, she was thrilled he trusted her with the reports, but now he hardly came out of his tent. Had he lost his passion for the dig? For six days, Damon stayed in his tent only taking her reports, and then barely listening to her. Yesterday, she'd slipped in some tidbit about a mythical creature stomping through the camp, and he didn't even flinch or crack a smile. She was sick of his melancholy.

Carefully, she copied down the highlights of the day. The broken vase with a black spider web etched in its surface and the ivory and bone necklace. She scrolled through her pictures, bringing those relics up, then typed up everything into the daily report ready to hit send on the email to Damon so he could review once more before adding his thoughts and distributing to the officials. Finished, she carried her laptop, the notebook of logged items, and her phone with photos to Damon's tent.

"Damon?" she called at the sealed tent flap. "I've got the report ready for today."

The scent of potatoes frying over the campfire made her wish she were already done with this part of her day so she could eat. She missed the cocky, teasing Damon she first met.

"Let's just go over everything tomorrow," he said, faintly.

No way. "That's what you said the last two times before I convinced you to listen yesterday." "What's one more day?"

Anger boiled in her and she leaned closer. "I hope you're decent, 'cause I'm coming in whether you like it or not." She set down her things, unzipped the tent, then ducked inside. After she gathered her items, she turned and faced him. He lay on his cot, an arm over his eyes.

"Listen, I don't know what's up with you, but you'd better get over this funk." She placed her hands on her hips. "Everyone here is counting on you as their leader, and you're moping around inside here for days."

"It's just digging in the dirt. Useless." He didn't move.

"It's your passion...or it was. What happened, Damon? Why have you turned into a recluse when the archeologist I read about was admired by all? Your team is out there working their butts off every day until we can't see even in the lantern light, until our fingers are cramped and have so much dirt ground into them that they'll forever smell like earth, and you're in here all the damn time?"

He took his arm away from his face and glowered at her. "You don't understand. Just give me your report and I'll see you tomorrow."

"You want my report?" She snatched up her notebook and tossed it onto the cot beside his feet. "There it is. Why bother when you just tune me out every time I read the summary aloud?"

His gaze jumped to hers. "I don't."

"Yes, you do. And I'll prove it." She picked up her log and recited it. "This morning, we found sleeping chambers and an old couple embracing. Some idols were found along with wooden toys. This afternoon, we uncovered a well." His eyes glazed over.

"After we buried the zombie, a broken vase with a black spider web and an ivory and bone necklace were discovered."

"That's nice, anything else?"

"Yeah. That you couldn't care less. I mentioned zombie and you didn't even hear me."

He blinked. "Wha-yes I did, I just ignored that part."

More like every part. "Right, like you had selective listening when I said a Minotaur charged through camp in my last report, you didn't even blink."

Crimson dotted his cheeks, and he looked away.

"Yeah, well I'm done providing these reports to you until you get off your ass and do your job. There are people out there who followed you because of your expertise and passion. Yet you pine away here like a spoiled brat not getting what you want. You've let your team down. Show them the leader they came here for or replace someone else to take the mantle and get out of the way."

She turned to leave, and he was there beside her. How had he moved so fast?

"Sorry, you're right." He offered her a partial smile. "I've not been myself and I've let everyone down. It won't happen again. I'll do my best to prove my merit to you...to everyone."

"Good. You can start by giving Sarah a break and washing all the dishes tonight."

He laughed. "You don't play easy, do you?"

"Nope."

"That's refreshing. Thank you for the kick in the ass."

She nodded and ducked out of the tent. Her smile never left her all night. He'd listened to her like an equal. For an hour, he went up to each member of the team and said something encouraging to them. He praised Sarah for her meal and offered to wash the dishes for the next three days.

"You don't have to do that," Sarah protested, the elderly woman blushing.

"No, I want to." He grabbed the frying pan out of her hand and whistled as he carried it to the water basin.

Hmmm...a man who washes dishes without complaint. What else could he do?