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“And then what?” Her voice shook. “We’d be risking our futures on a fling. I’m sorry, Rick. I really like you, but it’s not worth it.” She got to her feet. “I need to lie down. Can you tell the others I’ll see them at dinner?”
As she left, he stayed where he was, too devastated to move, as her words echoed in his head.
It’s not worth it.
Like a fool, he’d almost convinced himself that it was.
When the third week of the survey started, Grant handed out an updated list of the teams. Though he claimed a few students had asked for the chance to work with different leaders, Rick knew the truth. Olivia had left his team because Grant had pressured her into it. Now that she was working with Stuart, Rick had gotten Logan, a laid-back college junior with a reputation for being a slacker. Even if he exerted minimal effort, his easygoing attitude was preferable to Brynn’s whining.
Rick tried not to dwell on Olivia’s absence. He had enough to worry about, just keeping his team on track during the hardest part of the survey. But he missed the way she’d livened up the drives by chatting about random topics or singing along to cheesy pop tunes on Viva FM. He’d tried seeking her out in the evenings, but she was always with Dusty or Stuart, making it impossible to catch her alone. When he’d brought out his guitar, she hadn’t joined him.
Screw that.
If she didn’t want him, he was better off without her. Maybe she’d been right about the risks involved. For all he knew, Roth might not condone casual hookups in the field. If Rick hoped to snag a recommendation from him, he didn’t want to come across as unprofessional.
By the time the last day of the survey unit rolled around, Rick had convinced himself he’d moved on. Their final drive took them deep into hilly territory. Whether due to their cumulative exhaustion or the twisty roads that played havoc with their stomachs, the group stayed silent for most of the trip.
When Alisha emerged from the back seat of the Kia, she groaned. “I call shotgun on the return trip. Those roads are making me queasy.”
“This drive was the worst,” Logan muttered. “I’m sick of surveying.”
“Not me,” Marisol said. “I like exploring these hills. It feels like an adventure.”
Rick was pleased by how far she’d come. At the start of the week, she’d gotten the courage to stop shadowing him and now covered her own transects with little difficulty.
He motioned for his team to gather around. “Like Logan said, today’s our final day of the survey unit. I know these last few drives have been rough, but I appreciate all of you not puking in the rental car.” For that, he got a few chuckles. “You’ve done a great job, so let’s finish up strong. Your transects will cover the usual terrain—a mix of goat paths, terraces, and hills. Is everyone’s GPS working? Anyone need spare batteries?”
“I’m okay,” Marisol said. The others agreed with her.
“Let’s get going. If we finish early enough, we can grab some ice cream in Kouklia on the way back. My treat.” As Rick said it, he thought of Olivia and their perfect day together, but he thrust the memory from his mind. He didn’t need any distractions.
Despite the uneven terrain, his team finished the first transect in decent time. He was almost done with the second one when he crested a ridge overlooking the Xeros River. Knowing this was his last day to hike in the hills, he slowed his pace. He wanted to commit the scenery to memory in case he never got a chance to explore this part of Cyprus again.
When he stopped to take a photo, a piece of chipped stone caught his eye. He knelt and held it up. The brittle black stone had a translucent appearance, like obsidian. He set down his daypack and combed the area. His excitement grew as he unearthed a few more artifacts: a worn, round stone with a hollowed-out center, a broken projectile point, and a harvesting knife. Around his feet were pieces of chert, a hard gray stone that produced sharp-edged pieces when it was broken. It was often used to make cutting tools and weapons.
If he wasn’t mistaken, he’d stumbled upon the remains of a prehistoric site. The location was perfect—decent view, close to the river, near a large grove of olive trees.
He pulled a whistle out of his pocket. After Olivia’s incident, Grant had decided all the students needed to carry whistles in case of emergency. Rick blew on it a few times, hoping one of the others might hear him.
TJ came running, his oversized pack banging against his back. “Rick! You okay?”
Rick waved him over and handed him the obsidian flake. “Check this out.”
TJ smoothed the black stone between his fingers. “Looks like imported obsidian. This could be a sign of an Aceramic Neolithic site. Maybe ninth or tenth century BC.” He picked up the piece of chert. “Clear signs of flint-knapping. Do you know what this means? You’ve struck gold!”
Rick laughed. Only an archaeology geek would react this way over a few stone tools.
As TJ examined the other pieces, Rick checked his watch. If they bagged up the samples now and hustled back to camp, they wouldn’t be late. But he wanted his team to share in the excitement. “Can you track down the others? I’d like them to see this.”
“Sure. But first, can you call Roth and let him know what’s up? I’d prefer not to get our asses chewed for coming back late.”
“The reception’s crap, but I’ll try.” Once TJ took off running, Rick grabbed his phone and punched in the professor’s number. To his relief, the call connected. It went straight to voicemail, but he was able to leave a message.
When TJ returned with the others, Rick showed them his finds. “Sorry to make you put in extra steps, but I wanted you to see a Neolithic site—or at least evidence of it. These sites are a lot less common on the island, so finding one is a big deal.”
“Does that mean the win goes to us?” Logan asked. “Stuart said there’s a prize for the best find during the survey.”
“I think so,” Rick said. “Right now, I could use more photos and samples. Can you spread out and give me a hand? The more artifacts we find, the better.”
They fanned out, pawing through the dirt. Letting out a joyous cry, Marisol held up an intact projectile point. “This looks like an arrowhead I saw in a museum.”
“Nice job,” Rick said. “Set it in your finds bag.”
The entire team worked with enthusiasm, even Logan, who let out a Keanu-like “whoa” when he found another arrowhead. Alisha circled the area, taking pictures. When she was done, she gestured for them to stand next to her. “Team shot! We need one with all of us together.”
They crowded next to each other, sweaty, dirt-streaked, and happy, as Alisha took the photo. For a fleeting moment, Rick wished Olivia could be present to share in the thrill, but he pushed her out of his mind.
He’d made a major find on his last day of the survey. He’d redeemed himself and brought his team a little joy.
He didn’t need Olivia.
