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  Madison watched a well waxed red car slowly ease down the dirt driveway and even more slowly pull into the spot next to Mike’s Jeep. The woman who stepped out didn’t look like any of the archeologists or history majors she’d ever met. Her blonde hair was cropped short, in an almost pixie style. Her eyes were hidden by huge, round sunglasses. She was dressed in black skinny jeans and a hot pink tank top layered over a white tank top. In one hand she clasped what appeared to be a plastic cup of iced coffee and in the other was a hot pink cell phone. She wasn’t smiling.

  Liam leaned closer to her. “Looks like she got a manicure.”

  Madison snickered, but glanced down at her own fingernails. They were clipped short and already had dirt underneath the tips. Attractive.

  Cianna stopped in the shade of the summer kitchen. “Why are you putting that there? Shouldn’t it be closer to the building?”

  “No.” Mike didn’t look up from hammering in the stake. “This is where it’s supposed to be.”

  “According to…” Cianna’s voice trailed off. She pursed her lips together and looked between Liam and Mike. “Where’s Brad?”

  “He went to park headquarters.” Liam scampered down the yard to measure out the next four feet, obviously not able to get away fast enough. “He left you a donut.”

  “I’m on a diet.” She pulled her sunglasses off and smiled at Madison. “You must be Madison. I’m Cianna Simon. I’ve been working with Brad and the boys for years.”

  “Okay.” Madison walked over and extended her hand to Cianna. “I’m Madison Monroe.”

  Cianna stared at her and, for a moment, Madison thought she was going to ignore the handshake. She finally reached out and limply squeezed her fingers, wiping her hand on her jeans as soon as she released her. “Charmed. So, you didn’t stop them from putting the pit there?”

  “I actually like it there.”

  “Is this your first dig?”

  “No. I’ve worked around the Pittsburgh area and also did some work at Elmira Prison in New York.” Madison paused, not entirely sure Cianna knew where Elmira Prison was, let alone that it was a Union prison.

  “But not Normandy.” Cianna’s lips twitched as if she were suppressing a smile. “Right?”

  “Right.” Madison clamped her teeth down on her tongue. She wasn’t going to get mad—getting mad would let the bitch win. “I’m apparently too good a time to go to Normandy.”

  “I’m surprised Brad let you on the team.”

  “I’m sorry.” Madison leaned down to attach the twine to the stake. “Did I fall asleep and wake up back in high school? I’m not really sure how this is pertinent to anything.”

  “Just stating the obvious.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks.” Madison strolled after Liam, stretching the twine taut. “Did you want to help or something?”

  “I’m waiting for Brad to get here to tell me what I should do.”

  “Good talk.” Madison leaned down and tied off the twine. She heard Cianna huff and, out of the corner of her eye, watched her stomp across the field and back to her car.

  Liam snickered, quickly attempting to cover it with a cough. He cut the twine free. “That was hot.”

  “Her pants were inappropriately tight.”

  “You’re a catty bitch like me. I love it.”

  Madison straightened. The feeling someone was watching her washed over her back and shoulders, leaving a trail of raised gooseflesh. She turned toward the barn and its black, pulsing lower level rooms, her heightened pulse leaving her dizzy.

  Mike was standing in the gravel path leading up to the barn, watching her. He flushed when her gaze met his and he looked away for a moment. When he looked back, he smiled. “Want to help me out over here?”

  Liam sucked in a sharp breath next to her. “Girl.”

  As she walked up the path, she noticed a figure leaning against one of the barn’s lower level support beams. He seemed to be watching her, but from the distance she was at, it was hard to tell if his gaze was leveled on her or was looking past her to the summer kitchen. Weird.

  Chapter Seven

  When Brad returned to the farm, he arrived without an excavator.

  “Where’s the equipment?” Mike dragged his forearm across his brow, wiping away the sheen of sweat. The humidity was starting to rise and, although it wasn’t overly warm, it felt oppressive when combined with the direct glare of sunlight. “If they don’t want to run it, I can.”

  “How many pits did you get roped off?” Brad yanked open the truck’s tailgate and pulled out a case of bottled water. He set it on the ground and then reached back in, withdrawing first one shovel, then a second.

  “We got them all roped off but the one by the woods.” Liam tilted his head toward Cianna’s car. She was still in there. “We had a small disagreement over where we should put the pit by the house. Why are you unloading shovels?”

  “Because it’s the Gettysburg Foundation’s opinion that we don’t need heavy equipment and, in fact, they strongly feel that between the five of us, we can dig the pits in no time flat.” He pulled out the last three shovels and tossed them to the ground. “That said, we’ll need to revise our game plan.”

  Liam and Mike exchanged a look. Liam loudly cleared his throat and glanced back towards Cianna’s car. “Do you really think there will be five people digging?”

  “I’ll make sure there are five people digging.” Brad pulled a Leatherman from his pocket and sliced open the case of water. He withdrew a bottle and tossed it Mike. “You were in the Army. Doesn’t that make you count as two?”

  “Seriously, dude? She has to help sometime.”

  “She’s got plenty of work to do.” Brad handed a bottle to Madison. “I hope they didn’t torture you too much while I was gone.”

  She stared past his shoulder toward the lower level of the barn. Though he’d disappeared for a while, the man was back, still leaning against the support beam. She looked away. “We had a good time.”

  “I had some time to revise our dig schedule while I waited at park headquarters. I think the easiest thing is splitting up into two teams. We’ve got the four pits and, ideally, four weeks to get this finished. We could put four of us on a pit and do a pit a week, but I think it will be better in the long run to have two diggers per pit and just split the month. Thoughts? Objections?”

  “Yeah, just one.” Liam took a swig of water. “Her name is Cianna. Whoever gets stuck with her is going to end up doing all the digging and all the work. I’m not digging a pit, sifting all that dirt, and cleaning all the artifacts while she sits and bitches that she chipped her nail polish.”

  “Liam. This time is going to be different.”

  “Brad. That’s what you said last time.”

  “Work it out.” He slammed the tailgate shut. “Get the last pit roped off and then get started on digging. I want the pit here by the barn and by the summer kitchen started today.”

  Madison picked up the plastic bag containing the twine and measuring tape. “As much as I love digging, I’m going to volunteer to finish plotting out the pit and let the men handle the manual labor.”

  “It’s really a two person job.” Mike flipped the hammer around in his hand and took the bag from her. He headed back down the path to the summer kitchen. “Maybe by the time we’re done, Cianna will have decided to finally get out of the car.”

  “I’m timing you.” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, I know how long it should take.”

  Madison winked at him. “It being the operative word.”

  “Down girl.”

  She heard Brad make some sort of gurgled noise in his throat, but hustled after Mike well before he could comment. She didn’t care what he had to say because, no doubt, it was going to involve the phrase No no, let Liam do it. They’d only be away from the group for a few minutes, anyway.

  Mike cupped his hand above his eyes to block the sun. “Having fun yet?”

  “I live for this, dude. Digging in the
dirt and being up to my elbows in nail fragments is my happy place. Besides,” — she reached out and snagged the bag back from him — “it’s better than sitting at home remembering that I officially have a record other than my academic record.”

  “It’s not like you killed someone.”

  “I pointed that out as well.”

  “Their loss is our gain.” He stopped at the edge of the walking trail and looked out over the unmowed field leading up to the tree line. The grass was scrubby, interspersed with long shoots of wild wheat and thick, heavy boulders. It didn’t appear to be the best ground for growing crops. “I have no fucking clue where he wants this one. This is what I’ve got written down: over by the trees. That could mean anywhere.”

  She strolled along the edge of the trail, touching the shoots of wheat with her fingertips. “Does he mean in the woods or here by the path?”

  “I’d assume by the path. The park is going to put up waysides and signage back here for a self-guided walking tour. This whole farm was crawling with the 11th Corps. I think they even dragged artillery through these fields at one point. There’s always the chance we find something.”

  “Yeah, always that chance.” She abruptly stopped walking. For a moment, no less than a split second, she’d sworn she’d heard someone say her name. It was a whisper, a sound more like a tired exhale, but the cadence was there. Three muffled syllables without enunciation, trailing off into softly sighed silence. She turned and looked back toward the barn. Maybe it was Liam. Or Brad.

  Mike caught her eye. “What?”

  Or maybe it was nothing at all. “I think we should put the pit here.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged and pulled out a stake. “It seems like as good a place as any. Not a lot of big rocks on the surface. The trees are there. Criteria met.”

  “Makes sense to me.” He took the stake from her and took a step backwards, surveying the area. “Maybe the far corner there, by you? Then stretch it out parallel with the barn?”

  “I think it should go towards the woods.” Forward, not back.

  “You sound pretty convinced.”

  “I’m usually right.”

  He shrugged again, his lips pursed in an obvious effort to hold back a smile. “Hey, you’re the published professional. I mean, you know, we can just defer from my years of experience.”

  “If you’d like play the age before beauty card, you feel free.” She crossed her arms. “But I still think I’m right.”

  “Twenty-eight is not old.”

  “I’m not saying it is, but if you’re going to throw it out there, I’m going to point out the fact I was ten when you were eighteen. Take it as you will.”

  He tapped the hammer against his hip a few times and then pouted as he drove the first stake into the ground. “I’ll concede, but only because I’m a gentleman. And because you’re professionally ravishing.”

  “Hate me because I’m hotter than your girlfriend or because I drive a cooler car than you.” She crouched down and tied the twine around the stake. “Not for my ability to be in the right place at the right time. Or inability, depending on your point of view.”

  He tossed her the measuring tape, holding it against the top of the stake as she paced out the requisite four feet. “What kind of car do you drive?”

  “A 1995 Dodge Neon.”

  “I’m not going to qualify that as a cool car.”

  “You obviously have no taste in cars.”

  “I must have subpar taste in women too, because I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

  She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. Good to know. “It’s not a socially awkward condition, I assure you.”

  “This coming from someone who no doubt has a boyfriend.”

  “Negative. I’ll admit to being socially awkward, but I dumped my douchebag ex-boyfriend months ago.” She abruptly shivered, gooseflesh spreading across her bare arms. “It’s a lot cooler over here near the woods.”

  “You think?” He studied her. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I’m freezing.”

  “Weak.”

  “If I get put on this pit, I’ll be wearing a parka. This is ridiculous.” The cold seemed to seep down her shoulders and coat her arms like thick oil. She rubbed her forearms in an attempt to generate warmth; it didn’t help. “Maybe it’s just an adverse reaction to thinking about my ex.”

  He pressed his fingers to her forearm. His hand was hot against her cool skin. “Jesus Christ, you are cold. Do you want to…stand in the sun or something? Maybe chip in and hammer this last stake in? Because, honestly, I’m a little concerned you’re going to get hypothermic on me. I was in the Army. You can trust my judgment on this kind of thing.”

  The cold seemed to edge away at his touch. She flushed, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “I think I’ll survive.”

  “If you get this cold standing in the shade, God knows how much I’m going to have to egg you on to keep hydrated in the heat.” He caught her hand in his and turned her arm over to better see her wrist. “That’s a nice tattoo.”

  “I got it in New Orleans when I was sixteen. A guy named Voodoo Johnny did it for me. I told him I was markedly older and he didn’t really seem to care.” She glanced down at the watercolor fleur de lis inked on the inside of her wrist. “It was a gateway tattoo. I couldn’t stop with just one.”

  “How many do you have?”

  “Nine. They’re all hidden, except for this one.”

  “So…what you’re saying is, that a scavenger hunt is in order?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Hell, yes, a scavenger hunt was in order.

  “Seriously, you two still aren’t done?” Liam’s voice broke through the somewhat cloudy thoughts in her brain. He glanced between them. “Why are you looking at her like that? Did I hear you say scavenger hunt?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Madison smiled encouragingly. “He was just openly mocking me for being cold.”

  Liam didn’t look convinced. “How can you possibly be cold?”

  The feeling was gone—for the most part. The lingering sensation of icy pinpricks on her skin made her shiver again. “I’m hard to explain.”

  “Obviously.” He glanced between them again, his gaze markedly more critical. “Did you offer to warm her up?”

  “Is there a reason you came back here, Liam?”

  Liam clicked his tongue. “Brad’s going to be jealous.”

  Mike hammered in the final stake. “So you didn’t come back here for a specific reason.”

  “Getting away from Cianna is reason enough, but believe it or not, Brad has put her to work. She’s currently in charge of ordering lunch for us. Yes, I too was surprised he’d give her an assignment so critical and important, but there you go.” Liam rolled his eyes dramatically. “She was concerned she’d get her shoes muddy if she trekked all the way out here. So, instead she made me stop documenting soil samples for the reports and come fetch you. So, fetch, bitches. I’m starving.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Mike’s eyes slid back to her. “Ready?”

  “I’m not one to argue with the suggestion of planning out our lunch break four hours early.” She fell into step with them. “You both realize it’s a ploy to get us to dig the pits after we eat though, right?”

  “I think that’s the only way we can get that bastard to pay for it.”

  Madison laughed. She glanced over her shoulder toward the pit, the nagging sensation she’d left something behind tugging at her to turn around. Her eyes flicked to the wood line—the man she’d seen earlier at the barn was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed casually across his chest. He was watching her, there was no doubt in her mind this time. His dark gaze was fixed on her movement.

  Panic fluttered up in her chest. She and Mike had just been standing at the tree line; they’d practically stood next to him, yet, she’d never seen him. Never heard him.

  Mike caught her eye. He leaned
toward her, his arm brushing up against hers. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nope.” She forced a smile. “Just making sure I didn’t leave anything back there. I’m notorious for that.”

  “Yeah, because you know we’ll never be back there.” Liam looked behind them. “I think you’re good.”

  Madison glanced behind her again.

  The man was gone.

  Chapter Eight

  The monotony of digging test pits was quickly replaced by the monotony of sifting dirt. Madison picked through the sifter tray. Just more rocks. Most likely they were still too close to the surface, but still, every shovelful of dirt had to be sifted and examined for artifacts. If—when—they hit a cache of artifacts, they’d expand the pit outwards or further down. Every movement was dictated by what they found, but the process would be the same: always a grid, always four by four.

  “Brad, how deep do you want these starting out?” Mike eased a shovelful of dirt into a blue bucket and pushed it toward Liam. Despite Brad’s earlier instructions, they were all working on the barn pit, dubbed Alpha Pit Bank Barn. “I feel like I’m digging a foxhole right now.”

  “Put Liam in, if he can’t see over the top then it’s too deep.”

  “Hilarious.” Liam shook the contents of the blue bin onto the sifter and then collected the “clean dirt” from underneath. He emptied the sifted dirt onto a pile at the far end of the pit. “You’re the first person to point out that I’m short. I’m fun size. I’m a stocking stuffer.”

  “Two feet should be fine.” Brad made a notation in a notebook and headed back toward the pickup. “Look, I know this isn’t how we do things. It’s usually more meticulous and you know how much I prefer meticulous. The Park Service’s ramp up schedule is tight. We have to be out of here in four weeks, like it or not, so they can open it to the public.”

  Madison picked through the objects on the sifter screen. Rock. Clot of dirt. More rocks. It seemed to her there wouldn’t be a time crunch if Cianna would do more than sit on a blanket, crouched over a notebook. Shovel test pits were made to be small and things didn’t get complicated until artifacts were pulled up. For as long as they’d been working, with as many diggers on the pit, they should have had all four started.