Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
I t’s been a few days since Gabe helped me with that burn, and honestly, it’s healing up pretty well. The giant blister’s gone, and now there’s a solid scab holding everything together. Progress. Meanwhile, planting’s gotten way more intense. We’re planting gnarly and very complicated blocks that feel like they need Gabe to be in two places at once.
So, aside from those awkward, silent drives to the block—where I’m squished between Gabe and Emma on the truck seat—and a couple quick check-ins about my trees, I’ve been laying low. And honestly? It’s working. That weird moment in the truck the other day—whatever that even was—it’s like it never happened. We’ve gone right back to being coworkers, keeping it strictly professional, but I’ve gotta admit, I’m a bit nervous about it.
I’m on my way to dinner, stomach growling as I trudge toward the mess tent. The air smells like something vaguely tomato-y—spaghetti night, maybe—and I’m already dreaming of a full plate covered in fresh parmesan cheese and homemade garlic bread.
Right before I hit the entrance, I see Gabe heading my way, his boots crunching on the gravel. Even in the fading light, I can tell he’s focused on something—his face is all tight and serious like he’s in foreman mode—but then his eyes land on me, and he softens.
“Hey,” he says, slowing down as he gets closer. “How’s the burn?” He nods toward my hand.
“It’s getting there,” I say, holding it up. “Still kinda sore, but way better than it was.”
He tilts his head, like he’s asking permission to take a look. I hesitate for half a second before unwrapping the bandage.
“You’re right,” he says, leaning in to check it out. “Just keep using the ointment, and maybe let it breathe when you go to bed. But it’s looking really good.”
I nod, and he gently takes my hand, as if to examine it further.
Right then, voices from inside the tent float out, clear through the thin plastic flaps. Jessie’s voice stands out—loud and cutting… conniving.
“Gabe’s crew is such a joke this year,” she says with a hint of attitude. “I can’t believe he kept the rookie instead of me. If he wanted to actually make money and buy the company, he should’ve stuck with people who can actually plant fast. Now he’s just dragging dead weight.”
My face reddens instantly, because of course she’s talking about me.
Gabe’s hand tightens around mine, and I glance up to catch a flash of anger in his eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he mutters as he drops my hand, and before I can respond, he pushes into the tent.
I hang back by the side where I can’t be seen from inside, frozen, while my brain spirals between embarrassment and full-on rage. Who does Jessie think she is? Are all highballers this egotistical?
Through the canvas, I hear Gabe’s voice, low but firm. “You don’t get to talk about my crew like that.”
There’s this sudden lull inside, like everyone’s trying to pretend they’re not listening.
Jessie snorts. “I’m just trying to help you make more money?—”
“That’s not how this works,” Gabe cuts her off, voice sharp now. “I’m not kicking someone off just because they’re not as fast as you.”
She snaps back immediately, defensive. “I’m just saying. If you want to buy Silvertip?—”
“Don’t tell me how to run my crew, Jessie,” he bites out. “I have a plan in place to buy Silvertip, and it has nothing to do with how many trees you can plant for me.”
Silence. I can’t see her, but I know she’s been put in her place.
Gabe storms out a second later, letting the flap swing shut behind him. He spots me standing there and looks pissed for a second, then sighs, his shoulders slumping.
He heads toward his SUV, and I fall into step beside him, still trying to figure out why he got so defensive—about me, about his crew.
“Hey,” I say quietly as we approach his truck. “You good?”
He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. “Yeah. She doesn’t know shit about how this works, and she has no clue what’s actually going on with this company. And she sure as hell has no right to talk down on anyone just because they’re not as fast as her.” He lets out a sharp breath, rolling his shoulders. “I’m just pissed at her right now.”
“Fair,” I say, because honestly? Same. But Jessie’s right—Gabe is losing money keeping me on his crew. Every tree we plant, he gets a percentage on top of his day rate: more trees, more money. And I’m not exactly breaking records for him. I reach out and touch his arm, my voice softer now. “Hey… thanks. For sticking up for me.”
He looks at me, serious. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, low and firm. “And I don’t care what she thinks—you’re a good planter. This whole crew is. A solid team that works together is worth more than one fast planter with a shitty attitude.”
My face heats up, but not from embarrassment this time. There’s something about the way he says it that feels… different. Real.
I swallow. “I appreciate it,” I murmur.
He nods, then jerks his head toward the kitchen tent. “C’mon. I need food before I get pissier and start overthinking this. You coming?”
“Actually… I think I might skip dinner tonight,” I mutter, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “I’m not really up for the drama. I’ll just grab some snacks from my tent.”
Gabe’s eyes narrow. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrug, trying to play it off. “I’m just tired. I don’t really feel like having people stare at me or whisper, and I don’t have the energy to pretend it doesn’t bother me. It’s not even about Jessie—I just don’t want the hassle.”
He exhales, like he’s working through something, then steps closer. “Look, I get it. But you’re not doing anything wrong, and you need to eat. Let’s just head to the far entrance, grab plates, and sit wherever you’re comfortable. I need my planters well fed—and you don’t want to miss Marco’s spaghetti. It might be the best meal of the summer. Sounds fair?”
“Fine. That’s fair.” I say, clearing my throat and trying to shake off the tension from Jessie’s drama. But the moment still hangs between us, and before I can stop myself, I blurt, “Are you… still mad at me?”
He frowns, looking genuinely confused. “Mad? About what?”
“Sending you off to find Emma in the rain the other day,” I say, trying to sound casual, like it’s not been bugging me all week. “I don’t know, I just got this vibe… like maybe I annoyed you or something.”
He lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “Or something,” he repeats, grinning. “No, Soleil. I wasn’t mad. I kinda figured you just didn’t want me to notice your little burn.”
“Maybe I didn’t,” I say with a shrug. “Didn’t really feel like giving you more ammo to make fun of me.”
He throws his hands up, mock-offended. “Me? Tease you? Never.”
“Sure,” I say, smirking. “Your little note said otherwise.”
He shrugs, flashing me a cocky grin. “What can I say? I like having an admirer.”
It’s so arrogant that I want to roll my eyes—but all I can do is grin. Just that cocky admission, that playful spark, reminds me how much I’ve missed bantering with him. The weight of the past few days lifts, and I exhale in relief, happier than I’ll ever let him know.