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I stubbed my toe on a chair. Spilled coffee on my shirt. Nearly fell down the steps of my back porch and broke my neck, and now, I was being called out to the field. And for some reason, it was the last place I wanted to be. I normally loved being out in the field, so I wasn’t sure why it was bothering me today.
Anyone who knew me knew history was something I was passionate about. So, after doing an internship during high school with the then-city archaeologist, Mary Sinclair, I knew that was the job I wanted. The fact that Mary retired and the city hired me to replace her was a bonus.
One of my favorite archaeology sites was the home of Samuel Parris. Anyone familiar with the Salem witch trials knows that it all started there. The site was open to visitors now, but we were doing another dig not far from the home. We had stumbled upon it by mistake. The city was getting ready to excavate for a park, and artifacts were found, causing the park project to be put on hold. Now we had the city breathing down our backs to hurry up and get all the historical items out of the area so they could continue with their project.
As I ducked under the rope keeping the site blocked off, I tripped and caught myself with my hands. My pants, unfortunately, caught on something and ripped. I stood and cursed as a shooting pain hit the middle of my hand.
“Son of…”
“You’re bleeding!” a woman said from in front of me. I looked up to see Lori Sinclair, Mary’s daughter.
I glanced down to see my hand was cut. “Shit,” I mumbled.
“Here, let me.”
Zipping open the little pack she had around her waist, she pulled out a wipe and a band-aid.
“You don’t have to do that, Lori,” I said as I attempted to pull my hand out of hers. The woman was stronger than I would have imagined and kept her grip on my hand while she cleaned it and put a band-aid on it.
“You might need to get a bandage on it if it doesn’t stop bleeding,” she said with a smile.
Manny Hawks, one of the archeologists assigned to the dig, made his way over to me, calling out my name. He looked at Lori, then at me.
“What happened, boss?” he asked, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Nothing, I tripped and cut my hand.”
Lori looked up at me with those big doe eyes of hers and smiled. “All set, Lucas.”
“Um, thanks, Lori.”
“Sure. I’ll be over there, cataloging things.”
I nodded. “Great. Thanks.”
With another look down at my hand and then up at me, she blushed and turned to walk away.
Once she was out of earshot, I faced Manny. “Don’t even say it.”
“Dude, she wants you.”
I rolled my eyes. “How are things going?”
“How are they going? We found out what building was here, or at least, I think we’re on the right path with the items we’ve been recovering.”
My eyes went wide, and I could feel my heartbeat picking up. I loved that moment when we made a discovery.
“What?” I asked, my breath nearly crackling with anticipation.
“A tavern.”
“A tavern?” I repeated as I looked at the massive area that we were working on. No matter where you were in New England, if you dug, you were sure to find something, but a tavern that wasn’t ever recorded to be in that spot—now that was interesting. “I wasn’t aware there was a tavern in this area.”
“No one was,” Manny said as he stepped over another rope. “Look at that well, Lucas. Look at it!”
I smiled. The large well was lined with rocks and was in unbelievably good condition.
“You found a well. A rather intact well, but what makes you think this site was a tavern?”
