Chosen (9 page)

Alexana climbed the narrow, curving stairs and hugged her Christian sister. “How have you been?”

“Busy, busy. We’ve been working on a special order from the States.” Lydia Nusseibah ran the Palestinian Christian Women’s Needlework Shop and had successfully put hundreds of women to work creating elaborate weavings and needlepoint artwork for tourists and foreigners. The pay had helped to sustain many families over the years, and the shop was hailed as a prime example of how a business should be run.

The two women seated themselves in iron chairs outside Lydia’s bedroom, on a small balcony. Her view encompassed much of the Old City, and against the cold night’s backdrop, the twinkling lights before them seemed comforting. “Will you be warm enough out here?” Lydia asked.

“Yes,” Alexana said, motioning down at her warm sweater. She could not hold it in any longer. “Lydia, I’ve been told there is to be another bus attack.”

Her friend groaned. “Jew or Arab?”

“A Hamas attack outside the Old City.”

“You are worried because it might delay your dig at the Haram?”

Alexana shot her a sharp look. “I am worried because there has been enough bloodshed for one week. Have you not heard anything?”

“I am afraid not. But I will ask some friends and see if I can get some answers.”

“Please be careful in your questioning. I got the news from a correspondent who would like to set up reliable contacts with Hamas and others. If they get wind that it came from him …”

“I will make it sound as if I had heard it from a Hamas soldier myself.”

The two women sat for a while in silence, sad and lost in their own thoughts. Lydia was the first to speak. “I had such high hopes last spring,” she said. “I thought this would be it … that finally we would have a chance at peace. Instead, it is worse.”

Alexana nodded miserably. “Maybe we can stop some of the bloodshed this time,” she said.

“Maybe,” Lydia said. But her eyes held no hope.

A
lexana rose early, bathed, and headed to the École Biblique to speak with Professor O’Malley, a renowned expert on the subject of the Temple Mount. He was also one of the few allowed frequent access to Solomon’s Stables.

Alexana entered the ancient monastery, which housed the school. As usual, the escape from the busy street outside soothed her soul. The complex consisted of a series of monastic buildings and crusader arches, built to stand the test of time. She walked directly to the library, a magnificent building that was heralded as one of the best biblical archaeology libraries in the world—and had once been the
only
biblical archaeology library in the world.

Walking under a stone arch, she studied the various familiar faces, already hard at work. As he had for years, Jean Baptiste sat in his corner, cutting up photographs of the Dead Sea scrolls and taping them together under a magnifying glass hooked to the cherry wood table.

In another corner, Marcel was nearly hidden behind a stack of nineteenth-century excavation reports from Megiddo, as he carefully combed the pages for information.

The others in the room were young monks, studying for exams. Professor O’Malley had not arrived, so Alexana quietly drew out a
chair, trying not to disturb the students, and stretched her neck in an attempt to release some tension.

The scope of knowledge covered by the volumes in the room astounded her, no matter how often she visited. Many of the books were ancient, bound in lambskin and adorned with ornate artwork. These volumes had been meticulously copied in broad script by French monks of centuries past. The library encompassed eight centuries of history related to biblical archaeology. Alexana reflected on the countless days and nights she had spent there, researching one project after another. Her father, Samuel Sr., had started using her as a research assistant when Alexana was only twelve.
I’ve probably spent years in here,
she thought, realizing why the place gave her such comfort.

The steady tapping of a cane on stone floors drew her gaze to the front door. There, as she expected, Professor O’Malley appeared. He greeted her enthusiastically, ignoring the troubled looks of his two older colleagues and the younger monks’ glances of surprise at his loud, “Sana, my dear!”

Alexana rose to hug him. “Thanks for meeting with me, Professor. And thanks for your time with Ridge. I think you really might have reached him.”

“My pleasure. It’s good to see you,” he said, looking at her proudly. “I knew you’d be coming to the École soon when I heard the wonderful news. Congratulations, by the way, on being awarded the Stables.”

“I never asked you: How
did
you find out about it?” Alexana teased, knowing full well that no important archaeological news made it past the professor’s ears.

“Find out about it!” O’Malley looked shocked. “I’m the one who recommended you! They wanted me, of course,” he said mildly, “but I had to decline. Getting too old for a dig, even something like the Stables. I’ve waited a very long time to see what’s down there beneath the rubble; I’m depending on you for a grand tour, Sana.”

Alexana smiled, thinking of the several times the man had led her down the stairs to peer at the small portion of the caverns that could be seen. Her grin quickly faded as she watched the man labor to sit down in a chair.

“What’s this?” she asked lightly. “Getting too old to climb the mount?”

He smiled. “Never too old for that, my dear. Never. These bones will walk the hills of Jerusalem till my dying day. But enough about me. Let’s talk about the Haram. Where will you begin?”

“Behind the Triple Gate. Then we’ll move to the Double Gate, taking out everything in between,” she said, watching for his reaction. “I want to excavate the stairs and rebuild the arches to make sure the Haram won’t come crashing down, perhaps winning Islamic approval to excavate even further at a later date.”

The professor nodded, thinking about the wisdom of her choice. “That would be a marvelous place to begin. To walk the steps Jesus walked …” His eyes grew hazy. “Soon I’ll walk with the Savior, not just in the city he loved.”

Alexana drew in a deep breath. “Not before I take you to explore the place you introduced me to,” she quipped. “I’ll need all the knowledge you have in that head of yours before I’m through,” she continued. “So quit your talk of walking with the Master.”

O’Malley smiled benevolently. “I’ll hold out for a while longer,
Sana. For a while longer. Now say a quick prayer with me, and let us examine your plans.”

Despite the upheaval caused by the Beit Lid attack and the consequent takeover of an entire Old City block by right-wing Israelis, Alexana was given tentative approval to begin her dig in four weeks. Her heart pounded at the prospect of all she had to do: obtain financing, assemble her team, and plan the process. Her first mission would be to secure her brother as her area supervisor. Few in Israel could match his architectural drawing skills.

She was just pulling her gear together to go see him in Caesarea when there was a knock at her door. Alexana pulled open the door to the safety chain’s length and frowned at her rapid pulse.
Ridge.

Ridge quickly noticed her expression. “What? Did I choose a bad time? Should I come back later?” His voice echoed regret at his choice to show up unannounced.

“No, no,” Alexana mumbled through the crack in the door. “I’m just on my way out.”
Thatta girl. Keep it businesslike.

“Where are you heading?”

“Caesarea. I have to talk Robert into letting my brother Sam off the dig in a month. I want him as part of my team.”

Ridge looked pleased. “Great! I’ve been called to cover a story in Tel Aviv tomorrow morning. Let me drive you up. I’d actually like to do a feature story on the Caesarea Maritima dig sometime. It’d be a great chance to do the research.”

Alexana frowned again. She knew her heart was pulling her closer to the attractive man than was safe, but she unhooked the chain anyway.

“If you’d rather not …,” he began.

“No, no. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
You made a business deal with him, Alexana. He’s just trying to do his job. Stop reading things into his intentions.
“Are you coming back tomorrow afternoon?”

“Uh-huh. I still have to figure out how I’m going to handle the situation we talked about the other night.”

She nodded. “Okay, then. But I have to get back tomorrow. I’ve got a lot of work to do here, and I can’t afford to get stranded. Deal?”

“Deal.” Ridge moved to wait for her on the couch, wearing a smile that was a mile wide.

Despite Alexana’s intentions to keep their conversation focused on CNN business, Ridge managed to draw her into more personal discussions all the way to Caesarea. As the city came into view, she sighed. “I love this place. The aqueducts, the amphitheater. I think it’s one of the richest, most exciting archaeological sites in Israel.”

Ridge smiled, appreciating her fervor. He motioned toward the many people parking around them, heading toward the tourist grounds. “Even with the masses?”

She laughed. “Oh yes. I think there’s a spring concert tonight. Maybe we can crash it. The people give it a much more realistic feel, I think. With a little creative imagination—if you squint your eyes—can’t you just see them heading toward the amphitheater in Herodian dress to watch the gladiators?”

Ridge smiled again, and Alexana momentarily felt self-conscious. When would she learn not to wear her emotions on her sleeve? But Ridge’s smile continued. The moment passed, and she found herself relaxing under his warm gaze.

They made their way through the city, and Alexana pointed out
various landmarks, offering her own archaeological insights. As she was chatting amiably, Ridge impulsively slipped his hand around hers.

Alexana stopped and pulled away. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded double-time in reaction to her emotions. “Ridge, I need you to stop taking hold of my hand: here, at the restaurant … anywhere. We have a business relationship, and you’re risking that by making me feel awkward.”

Ridge frowned too. “I’m sorry, Alexana. It’s just that—I have to be honest here—I’m very attracted to you. More so than I’ve been to any woman in a long time.”

Alexana tried to regain her composure. She looked up into his gray blue eyes and concentrated on breathing steadily. “You are a handsome man, Ridge, and you’ve got a lot going for you. I’m very drawn to you. But I can’t be with you.”

Ridge’s eyes opened wide. “Because of Khalil?” he asked incredulously.

“No.” Alexana shook her head. “Not because of him. It’s because I want something that will last. Longer than what you and I can share.” Alexana lightly placed one hand on his chest.

His pulse beat quickly beneath her touch. Alexana spoke slowly, painfully. “I can’t give my love to a man who does not share what I hold most dear. And that’s
God.
Without that bond, I cannot begin a relationship.” Her eyes begged him to understand. “Please respect that decision.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Ridge to trail behind her.

Later, Alexana couldn’t help but eavesdrop on Ridge’s conversation with Robert Hoekstra. Ridge asked detailed questions, which pleased
Robert to no end. “Well, I’m glad you asked that, Mr. McIntyre.” Robert placed his arm around the newcomer who was so ready to listen. “Caesarea Maritima was built in approximately 30
B.C.,
during the Herodian period. We have been working on a variety of fronts here: an early Christian church, Herod’s temple, Roman baths, the stadium, mosaics. But most interesting to me is what lies beneath the breakwater, there: the harbor. She was the first artificial harbor ever built …”

Alexana watched as the teacher-at-heart walked off down the beach with Ridge on one side and Jennifer on the other. Thankful for the breathing room, she turned and headed the other way.

“So what’s up between you and Mr. CNN?” Sam asked as he ran to catch up with her, then easily matched her long stride.

“Nothing,” Alexana grunted.

“Nothing?” Sam sounded incredulous. “You arrive here unannounced and obviously brooding over something. You’re barely talking to one another. What happened?” Sam’s grinning face suddenly clouded over. “Did he try something?”

Alexana sighed. “No, Sam. There was nothing. We’re just trying to establish some boundaries while we work together.”

Sam looked only partially satisfied. “Why work together at all if he bugs you that much?”

“Because he does hear some interesting news,” Alexana reasoned, as much to herself as to her brother. “He’s already learned more than I anticipated.”

“Like what?”

“There may be another bus attack on the horizon.” Alexana carefully left out Ridge’s kernel of knowledge about the Haram.

Sam groaned. “When is it going to stop?” He ran his fingers
through his hair and over his face. “I wonder if Lydia knows anything about it. She’s got the best connections in the City.”

His eyes grew sharper as he searched his sister’s face. Samuel had loved Lydia for years, but her parents would not hear of her marrying a non-Palestinian, even one as dear to them as Sam. When things did not work out with her, soon after his failed relationship with Christina, Sam had sworn off women. But whereas he had managed to get over Christina, Lydia still haunted him.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” he asked softly.

“Yes.” Alexana laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Come on, Sam. Don’t dwell on it. I’m going to see her from time to time. She’s my friend too. And I thought that she might know more about the bus attack … that maybe she’d heard something and could confirm it. Who knows? Maybe Ridge was just set up. You know. They take his bribe money and then disappear.”

“Why do I doubt that?”

“I know.” Alexana sighed heavily. “It’s too easy to believe in people’s basic depravity these days.”

By evening Alexana had talked Robert into allowing Sam time off site for the duration of her dig, with the stipulation that Sam would return to Caesarea when and if there were significant delays. After dinner, the entire Caesarea team went to the amphitheater for a sunset concert by the Tel Aviv Philharmonic. In the ancient, rustic setting, with the scent of the sea and the faint sound of lapping water between overtures, the Philharmonic’s sound was glorious. Alexana concentrated on the music, trying to avoid the sight before her as two rows down and to the left, Ridge whispered and laughed with Jennifer. The girl was on cloud nine, enjoying his undivided attention.
Alexana could almost hear his deep, resonant voice: “I’m attracted to you.” She scowled.
Yeah, right. That’s why you’re flirting with the coed.