Chapter 8 Not a Lumberjack
NOT A LUMBERJACK
My jaw and rucksack dropped.
Even her car was loud. Lacie pulled into the driveway as she rolled down the window and waved. With the way the engine rumbled and the plume of dark smoke exited the muffler, it wouldn’t last much longer. On the day it died, Lacie would get out and push until she willed it back to life.
I had gotten up early, hoping to get ahead of the midday sun.
I wanted to be deep in the woods before I burned.
With hardly a cloud in the sky and the humidity already evaporating, it promised to be a perfect day for hiking.
Standing on the gravel driveway, I found it hard to believe she had convinced Nick to follow through.
I wanted to ask how she found my address, but with all the friends she had made, I’m sure the town gossips gave it up.
I leaned against the tailgate as I wondered what else they had told her.
The car had barely stopped rolling when she jumped out.
“Here he is, just as I promised.”
Nick’s exit lacked the same flair.
“It’s all he could talk about last night.”
Her neon pink t-shirt and black jeans were the quietest things about her. She had charm, but I think anything more than a car ride, and I’d put on headphones to drown her out.
I questioned her statement as Nick gave a weak wave.
I recognized a man kidnapped and thrust into something against his will.
Between the jeans and sneakers, Nick had no idea what he had gotten himself into.
His closest brush with nature had been the dog park or watching a documentary.
What was I going to do, tell him to turn around?
Nick needed nature therapy as much as I did. He might not be here by choice, but we’d make the best of it. If I were going to take the gremlins into the woods, I might as well practice with a handsome man.
“Get your stuff,” Lacie said, giving him a shooing gesture. “I have to get back for Gardening Club, and then it’s off to Drag Story Hour.”
He gawked. “How are you—”
She honked the horn. Nick didn’t argue. The back door opened with a groan, and he pulled out his backpack.
I wanted to ask if he packed a change of underwear and snacks in that tiny bag.
If he wandered into the woods, there’d be a good chance we’d hear about him on the news.
It didn’t change the plan. Scout. Find a base camp. Quality time under the stars.
He barely shut the doors when Lacie yelled, “Tootles.” Popping the car into reverse, her muffler backfired. Both of us ducked at the bang. She didn’t waste time, waving like a goof as she headed back into town.
He feigned a smile as he walked closer. He couldn’t be any more uncomfortable.
With slumped shoulders, dragging of the shoes, and inability to hold eye contact, he didn’t want to be here.
I should have given him an out and offered him a ride to Valhalla.
That part shut up when it realized I had the opportunity to spend a night with the city cub.
He needed this as much as I did. “Ready for this?”
“I think.”
I patted him on the back, guiding him to the passenger side of Pop’s truck. “Keep believing that.”
His eyes shot up as he formed a protest. I opened the door, nodding my head to the passenger seat. He didn’t argue as he climbed in. I wanted him to push back and put up a fight. Not that I would have listened. When I shut the door, I leaned in the window, giving him a pat on the chest.
“It’ll be an adventure.” Nick didn’t know it yet, but his worries were about to evaporate.
My hand lingered. Heat through the cotton.
I stayed a second too long, then pulled back as if it burned.
I had thought about it plenty, but didn’t think I’d have to face him again this soon.
Behind the truck, I grabbed my rucksack, tossing it in the back.
I took a deep breath, pushing the awkwardness from my mind.
I needed this. Nick needed this. We could need it together without me making it weird.
A few seconds later, we were on the road.
If the radio worked, I’d have flipped it on to fill the silence.
This was a recipe for disaster. I had a total of what, four encounters with this man?
Yet, here he was, trusting me to take him into the woods and make sure he didn’t get mauled by a moose.
Try as I might, I couldn’t figure out why he had entrusted me with his safety.
From the heart of Firefly, we turned onto Route 11, the only road heading north. Nick kept his eyes out the window, watching as the fields passed by. His hands rested in his lap, fingers clasped while he twiddled his thumb. He seemed as anxious as somebody about to get their first tattoo.
His jeans didn’t have a wrinkle in them.
Had he pressed them when he woke this morning?
As I followed the curve of his beefy thigh, down to his shoes, I couldn’t help but smile.
Light gray sneakers that had barely been broken in.
He tapped his left foot as if he were listening to music only he could hear.
If his muscles tensed any more, I’d be worried he’d leap from the truck.
The more I studied Nick, the more questions surfaced.
What brought him here? Was he running toward something or away?
Whatever it was, it ate away until it left a husk.
Ten minutes later, I pulled onto a long gravel driveway.
“We’re here.”
“Here?” Nick seemed confused.
I parked in the driveway, the New England-style house with a wrap-around porch at the end of a walkway. For a moment, I thought he believed we’d be staying indoors tonight. I pointed across the field to the tree line.
“Through there.”
Before Nick reconsidered his options, I jumped out of the truck and slipped my arms into the rucksack.
Buckling it across my chest and waist, I gave it a quick heave, making sure it sat right on my shoulders.
When Nick joined me, he had his backpack on.
I grabbed him by the straps, pulling him in close.
“Tighter.” I pulled at it, tightening it to his back.
I pulled the buckle across his chest, snapping it into place.
The straps bit into my palm, but I didn’t move.
I wanted to see if he’d lean in, if he’d close that tiny space.
After an awkward pause, I shook the thought. “You don’t want it to chafe.”
When he flashed a grin, I realized we were standing chest-to-chest. For a moment, I thought he might grab me by the shirt and pull me in for another kiss.
I wanted him to initiate. Then I’d spend the hike thinking of coconut.
It’d be a bonus if a little making out eased the tension in his shoulders.
“Couple of city boys,” came a shout from the house.
I turned around to see Seamus on the porch.
For a moment, I had a flashback to a younger version of him in the same position, holding the same rifle.
Pops would always stop and talk before we headed out.
The gun resting against his shoulder was as close to a warm welcome as we’d get. “Don’t die.”
“I don’t think he wants us here,” Nick whispered.
“That?” I gave Seamus a chin nod. He returned the gesture and went back inside. “That’s the nicest thing Seamus has ever said. He’s a big old softie.”
“Wait, that’s Seamus?”
Did the gossips talk about Firefly’s hermit? He didn’t conform to the norms of a typical resident. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been the focus of one or two quilting bees.
I continued walking along the property. “Yup.”
He didn’t elaborate on how he knew the recluse.
Entering through an opening in the fence, we crossed the field. I imagined my feet falling into the same shoe prints my father had once made. He’d always slow his pace, ensuring I could keep up. I did the same, checking over my shoulder.
Nick hadn’t run away, at least not yet. He followed in my tracks, his hands out to his sides. It took a moment before I noticed his eyes closing every time his palms brushed against the tall grass. We had barely started, and already, Mother Nature had taken hold.
We reached the end of the field, greeted by towering pine trees.
The trail had all but grown over, hiding the many overnight trips I had taken with Pops.
It left my heart heavy. The thought of dragging the gremlins into the woods should be terrifying.
Me? Responsible for kids? It bordered on parental neglect, and yet, at the same time, passing on Pop’s training seemed fitting. I’d make nature remember.
“In there?”
I nodded. He didn’t know it, but we weren’t just stepping into the woods. Over the threshold and with every step, we’d leave behind our plates of armor.
Nick’s chest rose as he sucked in a breath of determination. “Okay.” He went to take a step, and my arm shot up, blocking him.
“Not yet.”
I closed my eyes, letting the sun warm the back of my neck. With a deep breath, I inhaled the sweet scent of bark mixed with sap. It held a hint of wet earth. After decades in the city, I had almost forgotten the smell of nature.
It smelled like home.
I cringed at the squish.
We spent the better part of the day hiking, stopping for a quick lunch of beef jerky and trail mix.
We had sat on the rock in silence, taking in Firefly from a distance.
Surrounded by mountains, the town sat on the edge of the wilderness, as if it were the last frontier.
My thoughts continued drifting to Pops and the way he straddled both worlds.
I tried brushing them away, but it always came back to a simple question: “What if I had done things differently?”