This one's really short, but it introduces the intrigue I promised. Keep reading, it gets more interesting!...

CHAPTER 2

Thinking

Three days later they arrived in Cairo, tired, dirty, and utterly glad to be alive. It was almost midnight when they got to the Fort. Rick helped Evelyn down from the camel and she almost collapsed from exhaustion. Thankfully, he caught her before she hit the ground. She would be all right, he told himself. She just needed sleep and real food. He and Jonathan tied the camels up and began to climb the stairs. As an afterthought, Rick sent Jonathan back for the rucksacks. He'd lost all of his belongings, and whosever camel it had once been probably wasn't going to mind donating whatever spare blanket or tool they had long ago packed in them.

This sent his mind reeling with new worries. He didn't have anything. What could he offer Evelyn? He was nearly broke, he had no job, no security. He'd never been anything (well, anything legitimate) besides a soldier. What kind of life did a soldier's wife enjoy? What kind of life did Evy want?

Rick laid Evelyn down on her bed and drew up the covers around her. He pulled a chair up to the bedside and just sat there watching her sleep, thinking. What if she didn't like what he had to offer? What if she decided she didn't want him? Didn't love him? He'd do anything for her, she had to know that. But what if it wasn't enough?

Evelyn felt re-energized after a good night's sleep in a real bed. It was the first time in weeks she'd slept clear through the night. She tiptoed past Rick, still sleeping in a chair, and went to the ladies' room. She had to stifle a slight yelp when she saw herself in the mirror. A rat's nest of hair, sand everywhere, her eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. Normally she wouldn't have really cared about her appearance, but...after washing up she put on her nicest dress and looked at herself again. No, her nicest dress would not do. It was pretty much the same as all the others. She'd have to go shopping first thing.

But before that, she had to face the Museum of Antiquities. Who knows what damage had been caused by the rabid crowd of Imhotep enthusiasts? Not to mention her own little disaster before the whole adventure had even started. She wondered if they had hired a new curator yet. Dr. Bey would be hard to replace.

Evelyn tip-toed past Rick once again and made her way out of the fort into the bright sunlight. The damage done by the plagues was still being repaired. All around her people were hammering boards over windows and sweeping away debris. She wondered what they thought had gone on here.

After she'd stopped on the way to get some breakfast, Evelyn squared her shoulders and walked into the Museum, trying to look sure of herself. By the time she actually found someone in the deserted corridors she'd lost most of her confidence and jumped when Bob, the kindly old janitor, walked around a corner toward her.

"Miss Carnahan, how lovely to see you," Bob said softly. "How was the dig, my dear?"

Evelyn smiled as she took Bob's arm. She liked him; he was what she thought a grandfather should be. She'd never had any grandparents, and her parents had been gone for almost three years now, so she had latched onto him as a sort of father figure, a willing ear for all her troubles. "It was fine, Bob," she answered. "I was so sorry to hear about Dr. Bey." She didn't like lying to him, but she figured in this instance it was better than the truth.

"Yes, it was very sad news. Whatever he was thinking, being out on the streets at that time of night..." Bob clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Mr. Behr says the new curator he's hired should be in this morning. Apparently he's quite an authority on Egyptian culture. He's English, you know."

"Oh, really? Do you recall his name?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't. From what I've heard, though, dear, I'm sure you two will hit it off just splendidly."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. Bob had once attempted to set her up with his assistant, and if Mohammad was any indication Bob did not have the best taste in men. Besides, she was already spoken for...sort of. Was she? What were Rick's intentions, anyway?
"Evelyn, dear?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Bob. I seem to be daydreaming a lot lately."

At least the dreams were better than the nightmares.