Come in and Cover Me
Gin Phillips
Language: English
Pages: 352
ISBN: 1594486484
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When Ren was twelve years old, she lost her older brother to a car accident. For twenty-five years he’s been a presence in her life, appearing with a song or a reflection in the moonlight. Her connection to the ghosts around her has made her especially sensitive as an archaeologist, understanding the bare outline of our ancestors, recreating lives and stories, and breathing life into those who occupied this world long before us. On the cusp of the most important find of her career, it is the ghosts who are guiding her way. But what they have to tell Ren about herself, and her developing relationship with the first man to really know her since her brother’s death, is unexpected—a discovery about the relationship between the past and the future, and the importance of living in the moment.
zigzagged against a white background. One figure covered most of the bowl. It could have been a man or a woman—there was no hairstyle or clothing to give any clues—but the smooth white oval of a head was dominated by two diamond-shaped eyes. The two shapes were filled with smaller and smaller concentric diamonds, tapering down to a solid black triangle in the center. No nose. A straight line for a mouth. The arms sloped down, and the hands were raised, palms up. The torso and lower half of the
Creek. Or maybe vice versa.” “If she learned here, it makes sense she started here,” said Ren. She couldn’t help picturing the ragged-haired girl at Crow Creek, so young and sure. But there was no proof that the girl was her artist. The artist could have grown up playing in this canyon, splashing in this creek. “We can’t back that up,” said Silas firmly. “It’s still pure conjecture. Logical, but pure conjecture.” “I thought you were the one who didn’t believe in fact. Who thought
nothing but tea. There was a skill to making it. She looked for tips with swollen buds and cut them off into lengths as long as from her elbow to her wrist. The buds held the strength of the tea. She ground buds and stems into a pulp, then left the willow mush soaking in boiled water. When the water was cool to the touch, Lynay would strain it through a tightly woven basket, letting it trickle into her mother’s favorite drinking bowl, which was smooth and worn and easy for her mother to hold
what this girl was, exactly. As invasions go, it was a quiet one. Lynay showed no inclination toward conversation. She seemed to want only a solitary place to do her work. It was like having a mouse in the house—there was nothing inherently frightening about the girl other than the suddenness of her appearances. If she would announce herself before she entered a room, Ren thought, they could have coexisted pleasantly. Because at first Ren was mostly curious, intrigued by the girl following
“She thought honey was good for everything.” “Parents know things like that,” he said. “My dad always said for a headache you should dunk your head in a sink full of ice and water.” Silas had dunked more than his head in icy water. When he was eleven, the newspaper proclaimed January 4 to be the coldest day in a hundred years in Silver City, New Mexico. The creek by the house froze still and hard. Silas and Alex started by tapping a toe on the ice, pressing gently. The surface stayed