Page 80 of Troy Story
And I won’t, either.
Dusty caught sight of the bus driver and his assistant leaving their table. They were heading outside, which meant she had a decision to make. Keep going, keep her head down, and keep Stuart out of trouble. Or go back, make trouble, and live with the consequences.
The decision was obvious. She hadn’t gotten a reputation as a troublemaker for nothing. “All right. I’m going back. Thanks, Dad.”
“My pleasure.”
“Before I go, can you call Stuart for me? He must be worried sick. I know you don’t have a cell phone, but—”
“My landline works just fine. I’ll tell him he can find you at the station in Çanakkale.”
“Thank you.” Relief flooded through her. “Maybe don’t mention this to Mom, either. She already hates Hughes enough as it is.”
“I think that’s the right call. Otherwise, she might fly over there and drop-kick that bastard into the nearest trench.”
As she envisioned the scene, Dusty couldn’t help but laugh. “I’d like to avoid that, if possible. I should go, but I have to ask—have you had any luck translating the tablet?”
He chuckled. “This isn’t a minor task by any means. It’s a version of cuneiform I’m not familiar with. But trust me, I’ll figure it out. I’ll email you as soon as I know more.”
“Thanks. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, kiddo.”
She shut down her laptop and raced toward the bus. In rapid, halting Turkish, she told the driver that she had a family emergency and needed to get her luggage. Though the assistant grumbled at the inconvenience, he helped unload her backpack. Then the bus rumbled back to life and pulled out of the station, leaving her behind.
She was tempted to go back inside and email Stuart and Kerim. By now, they’d be at the field house and might check their messages. But as she was turning to leave, a gleaming coach bus pulled into the closest bay.
Among the list of stops posted on the window was Çanakkale.
* * *
Stuart had beenon the road for twenty minutes when his phone buzzed. He jolted, his pulse racing in anticipation, as he reached for it.Please let it be Dusty.
No luck. Instead, the caller ID displayed a number he didn’t recognize. He answered the phone and set it on the console of the Land Rover. “Yes? Hello?”
“Stuart? This is Roger Danforth.”
A rush of fear gripped Stuart’s heart, making it beat in double time. If Dusty’s father was calling him, something horrible must have happened to her. He tightened his grip on the wheel. “Is Dusty okay?”
“I just talked to her. She’s fine. It’s a long story, so I’ll let her explain when she sees you. Are you at the field house?”
“No, I’m driving to Istanbul. I should be there in about four or five hours, depending on traffic. Did Dusty tell you where she’ll be staying tonight?”
“No need to drive all that way. She’s heading back to Çanakkale on the next bus. I’m not sure when she’ll arrive, but you need to go to the station and wait for her there.”
Stuart’s shoulders loosened in relief. He no longer cared she had run off without warning. Her safety and well-being were the only things that mattered. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Best of luck.”
Stuart signed off and watched for the exit leading to the bus station. After parking the Land Rover in the lot, he checked his messages. Still nothing from Dusty, which seemed odd, considering she’d just spoken to her father.
No one else had texted him except Dr. Hughes, who’d sent five messages, each more threatening than the last. Stuart read them with a sense of foreboding, fully aware he might have sabotaged everything—his position at Troy, his teaching job, and his reputation—just to go after the woman he loved. But in his heart, he knew he was doing the right thing.
He hustled over to the station, checking out the coach buses in their bays. Buses headed to Bursa, Diyarbakir, and Kusadaci. Families carrying oversized bags, drivers taking a smoke break, a vendor hawking tea and coffee. Chances were good he’d have to wait a while, but in the meantime, he could text Kerim and the others to let them know Dusty was all right.
When a new coach bus pulled in a while later, he stood up, his breath tightening. The bus door opened, and the passengers filed out. Among them was Dusty.
He let out a yelp and ran toward her. She collided into his arms, hugging him so tightly he almost fell over. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her rosemary shampoo.
