“Was it worth it?” he asks me as he slows down, and I follow his lead.
“Not so far,” I admit. “I thought it would be, but then again, I didn’t expect to fail.”
“You have a second chance, right?” He asks in a concerned tone.
“Yes, but not for a while.”Too long of a while.“I’ll be married before I can present my thesis again.”
“Maybe one life change at a time is enough,” he says.
“Maybe.”
Brayden turns his head toward me. “Your honeymoon destination sounds amazing. I’d love to see the wildlife there. And I bet the water will be really nice for swimming.”
“The Galapagos are perfect for scientists.” I shrug. “Phillip wants to make the world a better place.”
“I thought it was your honeymoon,” he says.
“So?”
“So doesn’t this guy want to spend all his time with you?” he says. “You know, just being happy he’s found the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with?”
My cheeks are now an inferno of embarrassment, and I slow the horse to a walk and turn my face toward Brayden’s. His blue eyes get bluer until they’re all I see.
Looking into his bright eyes and handsome face, I feel my body involuntarily shifting closer to him like he has the ability to turn me on without trying at all.
“We’re here.”
Brayden pulls up on Blazer, and I blink out of my reverie and do the same.
“We’ll have to walk this last part,” he says. “You okay?”
“Sure,” I say as I dismount, and we tie both horses to a nearby tree.
We walk for a short mile before he stops. “It’s right here on the other side of the wire fence.”
“I should probably grab a sample on your side of the fence first, for comparison’s sake.”
“Good idea.”
I take a jar out of my bag and go about collecting a core soil sample. Then I label the jar and close up the lid.
When I’m done, Brayden leads me to the corner of the field and bends the wire down so we can climb over it. When he points at the ground, I say, “All I see is the cattle pasture. Is it under here?”
“Exactly.” Brayden kneels down, and I squat next to him. He pulls a small collapsible shovel out of his pocket and digs just underneath the surface, then he taps the area with the shovel until I hear metal.
“It’s a container,” he says. “It’s massive.”
I look at his face in the darkening light, and I know we don’t have much time before it rains. “I’ll have to work quickly,” I say. “The sample can’t be tested if it’s waterlogged.”
He shovels until the container is clearly exposed.
“Look at the label,” he says.
“Hazardous materials,” I read aloud.
“I don’t think it’s here legally,” he says, stating the obvious.
“You mean they buried it here rather than pay to dispose of it properly,” I say.
