Chapter 2
Kaleb
The sounds of Hardrock Park never cease to amaze me. Whether it’s the wind whistling through the tall trees or one of the many waterfalls sloshing against the rocks, it reminds me that this is where I call home.
And not just me either.
A certain black dog by the name of Racer calls it home too…
“Easy boy,” I holler, my deep voice carrying over the sound of the nearby rapids as I watch Racer powering along the dirt track, no doubt in hot pursuit of a damn rapid he doesn’t have a hope in hell of catching.
It’s a hot day today. Real humid. The sky might be blue right now but I can sense that come the evening, the clouds will be out in full force and full of rain too.
Now tell me why the hell I need an app to figure out the weather?
I’ve got my eyes, ears, and senses for that.
And at forty-two years of age I’ve lived long enough around these parts to be able to tell when a storm is heading in.
I might have a couple of grey hairs but I’m far from losing my mind to old age.
If anything, I’ve never felt stronger, smarter, or more capable of living my life in exactly the way I want to.
I’ve worked hard to get my life like this.
Aside from my trusty canine companion Racer, I live alone. My rules. My way. And no one complaining or making demands on me. I get to live my life in the best way for me, and that’s the way I like it.
Some people in the town might call me grumpy. Some might even say that they never see my smile. Hell, why the hell do I care what they think anyway? As long as I’m happy, then that’s what matters.
Sure, some people like to go on dates, socialize every night, and probably end up talking on the damn internet all night long too. None of that is for me. I’m happy in my own skin. I don’t need romance or a social life to feel good.
I’ve got Racer, my own company, and the great outdoors to satisfy my needs.
And speaking of which, there’s a tree nearby that I need to locate before lunch and Kaleb down to size as they say around here.
“Racer! Come!” I call out, Racer bounding over toward me as soon as I make my command. “Good boy.”
I ruffle Racer’s black fur and the pair of us walk deeper into the woodland as it curves around the edge of the river.
Ryan Trask has given me the coordinates for the tree that needs to be felled and a photo too.
Although to be quite honest, he probably could have just told me where it was, and I would have found it.
I’ve covered every square inch of this wonderful woodland so finding a dying tree ain’t going to be that much of a challenge for me. In fact, I think I have another two trees that have come to the end of their time near here so will see if I can set to work on prepping them to be felled too.
That’s if this storm doesn’t come on too quickly.
“What do you think, Racer?” I ask, glancing up at the sky once more and seeing that the crystal clear blue is rather quickly being replaced by a cloudier outlook. “One bark for storm. Two barks for who cares!”
Racer barks twice and I laugh.
The dog knows me too well. Come rain or shine, I love my work.
“And here we are…” I say, approaching the tree in question and casting my eye over it, taking in the fact that it looks like it could in fact be saved. “Hmmm. I think Trask might have got this one a bit wrong.”
I take my phone out and check for signal.
One bar. Not great, but it will do…
Kaleb: At tree location now. Sick, but not terminal. This one doesn’t need to come down.
I don’t have to wait long for a reply either. Almost as soon as I hit send, Trask replies…
Trask: Okay, I trust you Kaleb. But let me guess, while this one might not be right, you know of some that do need the Kaleb Ruhst treatment? And I’m not talking about boys either…
Right. Trask’s trying to be a funny guy again.
Hell, I don’t know how many times I need to tell him.
I’m not looking for a boy, a Little, or a damned relationship.
Trask might like hitting the big city and partying in Daddy & Little clubs, but that just isn’t me.
I tried a night club once back in my twenties and seriously it was the worst damn night of my life.
Awful music.
Terrible drinks.
And way too many boys who just couldn’t stop talking and squawking the whole time. Nope. I’ll stick to my day to day routine thank you.
But seriously, Trask is a decent guy. And he’s probably as close as I’d get to having a friend too. Well, if you don’t include Racer that is.
I put my phone away and walk a little further on into the woodland. Deeper. Darker. The kind of place that for me is a walk in the park—literally—but for someone inexperienced could be quite dangerous.
“And here it is,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and looking at the rather sizeable branch that seems like it’s one strong gust from snapping. “What do you say, Racer… shall we take it down?”
Racer wags his tail and shoots off into the undergrowth.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I chuckle.
And with that, I set my heavy backpack down on the ground and take out equipment. This branch is thick enough for something electric, but it’s also already partially broken and weak at the joint too.
“I’ll count this as my workout for the day…” I mutter, selecting my heavy saw and carefully placing it on the ground as I take off my grey t-shirt.
Judging by the clouds, I’ve got a couple of hours before I’ll need to get the hell out of here so there’s no time to waste.
It’s time to Kaleb. Or, to put it more accurately, saw.
But you know what I mean…
“Oh yeah, come to Daddy,” I chuckle as the sight of a piping hot bowl of lentil soup and the thickest of thick crusts beckons.
“Damn, Kaleb, you’ve got one hell of an appetite,” Trask chuckles as he sips on his beer. “I’ll stick to a single serving of soup. But you do you, king.”
I toast my beer with Trask and allow my second bowl of soup to cool down just a touch before I demolish it.
Despite having planned on a typical evening at home, I decided that a last minute offer of free drinks all night from Trask was too good to resist. Even if I do suspect that it all some kind of prelude to him asking a favor of me…
“So. Are you going to tell me?” I ask, arching my eyebrow.
“Tell you… what… exactly?” Trask chuckles. “Shit. Is it that obvious?”
I nod and take a big gulp of the beer. It’s starting to get busy in Woody Hollow and while the free beer and food is a great way of getting me here, it won’t keep me here all night if the place gets too full.
I cast my eyes around and see all the typical suspects. A few of the young men of the town, playing pool but checking their phones constantly like they’re waiting on some incredibly important news when in fact they’re all probably just messaging each other rather than talking.
Weird.
If this is modern life, I’m not here for it.
Then of course we have a few of the local store owners and tradespeople.
All good types, reliable, part of what makes this community so solid.
I don’t know if they would speak as glowingly of me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know they’re the glue that keeps places like this going during good times and bad.
We’ve got Mr. and Mrs. Peplinska who own the grocery store.
And then there’s old Jonathan Melville who’s made his life out of supplying all the pens, paper, and stationary you could ever need.
Plus not forgetting Miles and Henry Roberts, relative newcomers to our neck of the woods but they’ve set up a quite delightful Bed & Breakfast that brings a steady supply of visitors into the town too.
“Earth to Kaleb?” Trask says, playfully shaking my shoulder.
“Oh, right, yeah,” I say, back in the real world. “You were about to tell me the real reason that you’re buying my beers and food tonight?”
Trask smiles and takes a glug of his beer.
“Right,” Trask begins, half a smile on his face already. “You know we’ve got the annual fair coming up, right?”
Oh no.
Not again.
He asked me this last year, and the year before…
“Uh-huh,” I eyeroll. “Hurry up and get to it.”
“Well… how about getting that big grumpy ass involved this time,” Trask says.
“I think there must be something you could do. Maybe a log cutting contest that you could judge? Or you could maybe challenge any one of the locals to a contest yourself? You’d win of course.
But each entry could be five bucks. And I’m sure there’s plenty of boys out there who would kill for a chance to get up close with you in your tightest vest and jeans combo.
Tell me this doesn’t sound like a good idea. ”
“Pffft. It sounds like a terrible idea,” I say, shaking my head in disgust. “Listen, if you want I’ll write you a cheque to go toward a prize or something. But, come on. You know that’s not my thing.”
“Kaleb, you haven’t got anywhere near enough money to write a cheque that big,” Trask laughs.
“If everyone knew there was a chance to Kaleb wood and get all hot and sweaty with you on a sunny afternoon, we’d have enough money to rebuild the whole Oak Lake reservoir!
Listen, don’t answer now. Just promise you’ll think on it. ”
“Whiskies as well as beer, and I’ll think about it,” I say. “And I mean think.”
“Deal,” Trask says, patting my arm and signaling to the bar tender for a round of whiskies. “Now, let’s talk about those other trees you spotted.”
“That’s more like it,” I say, a smile on my face. “Now this is a subject I actually want to talk about…”
But before I can get going and explain to Trask why I actually have five trees in my sights for felling rather than the three I told him about earlier, I see that something has caught his eyes.
I turn to look behind me.
Who… the… hell… is he?
For a brief moment, my brain appears to disconnect entirely and all I can do is stare as quite possibly the cutest boy I’ve ever seen walks into the tavern. He’s young, early twenties, but there’s something about him that’s different.
He’s definitely not from around here, that’s for sure.
If he was, I would surely know who he was.
No one would forget a sweet face like that, or the kind of wholesome strong but soft curves that he’s carrying either.
And by curves, I mean real juicy too. A body that would make a Daddy like me hard in five seconds flat.
And I’m talking about the kind of blood-pumping, rock-hard erection that can’t be hidden by even the thickest jeans known to man.
Fuck.
What I’d do to put him over my lap.
Or bounce him on my meat…
“Close your mouth, Kaleb, you’re catching flies,” Trask says to break me out of my trance.
“Asshole,” I mutter. “I just got lost for a moment. No big deal. Now keep these drinks coming.”
But as I gradually start to get my brain back in gear, I feel a burning sensation that I can’t shake.
I want to turn around and get another look at that boy.
This isn’t like me. Not even close. I’ve seen a thousand cute boys in my lifetime.
I can take them or leave them—and ninety nine times out of a hundred, I do in fact leave them.
“Just turn and look,” Trask says, evidently wise to what’s going on in my head. “Hell, here’s an idea… you could even go and say hey.”
For a brief moment, I think Trask might be on to something.
I could go and introduce myself.
For all I know, he could be just my type… whatever that is.
He might even be a Little. Hell, I can dream.
“Screw it, you’re right,” I say, adrenaline surging as I get up from my barstool and turn. “Oh. What…”
And just like that, I watch as the boy opens the door and exits the tavern almost as quickly as he entered.
I guess you could say it’s just my luck.
Or maybe it was simply never meant to be.
Or you might even argue that it’s a blessing in disguise and probably the best damned thing that’s happened to me all day.
After all, why the hell do I need all the fussing and bullshit that comes with getting involved with someone?
Hmmm.
I’m going to go with the latter option.
“Trask, more whisky, and make them doubles,” I growl. “Now about those trees…”