“Yes, wonderful.” Her voice was a whisper.
Pandusky’s brows drew toward each other. It looked as if—no. Surely Administrator Matthias had not been crying. It was the strain she was working under. That was it. Too much on her plate these past few days. And now this unpleasant business with the prospector Case. No wonder she looked so worn out.
“Should I authorize sending a third crew down to pick them up?” When she didn’t reply, he repeated the query, adding, “Administrator?”
She blinked, looked over at him. “Yes, of course. Authorize it.” She started past him.
“I’ll take care of it, Administrator—Lauren. Don’t worry. I’ll remind whoever’s picked to go down there to take extra precautions with both predeparture and in-flight procedures.”
She glanced back. “Won’t be necessary, Sanuel. There won’t be any trouble—this time.”
“As you say, Administrator.” He dithered briefly. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Lauren, you could do with a day off. A little rest would do you . . .”
His words trailed away. She was already out of hearing range.
By the time she got home she had convinced herself she was over it. She was wrong. Jack was waiting for her in the center room of their dwelling. Good Jack, kind Jack, faithful Jack. He had supper waiting for her. Again. That was all it took to start her weeping once more.
“Hey,” he murmured in bewilderment as she slumped, sobbing, into his arms, “I’m not that bad a cook.”
An alarmed Pandusky called the next morning when she failed to arrive at the office. His concern was understandable, given that Chief Administrator Matthias was noted for her reliability and punctuality.