Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
REED
“ D ude, is that what I think it is?”
McCafferty picks up his chainsaw and plows into my shoulder to get by me. We’re dealing with a potential structure threat at a ranch property today, and he isn’t wasting any time following dispatch’s orders in protecting it.
“No,” he grunts, yanking on the ignition string even though we’re a good sixty yards away from the open hay field and stretch of pines we’re making a fire break between.
This is too good to let go of, so I keep up with his pace.
“Really?” I yell over the motor. “Because it looks to me like a tampon string is hanging from your nostril.”
He whips around and the limp fabric strand slaps him in the cheek.
I grin even wider.
“I get bloody noses in the summer. Sue me!”
“And you couldn’t have stuffed a wad of toilet paper up there? Did your girlfriend pack your line bag for you?”
He smirks and revs the four-stroke engine. “Nope. Yours did. ”
Touché. I deserved that.
Now that the entire crew knows Hailey and I shared the same sleeping bag, it won’t be the last girlfriend comment thrown my way. It can’t vex me when I like the sound of it a little too much.
I watch her now, standing with Jack, and heave a sigh. We steal kisses whenever given the chance, but I’m not any closer to knowing what she’s thinking. The most private conversation we’ve had was one about her dad a week and a half ago. If I can’t have her to myself, I’m glad she has him to keep her company.
Or did, I think, as she sweeps her hand down his arm in a Be right back gesture.
Where is she going?
She jogs several feet, sizing up trees on the outskirts of the property until she ducks behind one. It’s out of view from everyone except Dean and me. He’s turned away from her, so I guess it’s only me who can see.
What is she doing?
She pinches between her shoulder blades and reaches up the sleeve of her shirt. A bunched ball slides down her arm and away from her wrist, black lace dangling from the tip of her finger before she stuffs the undergarment in her pocket.
My mouth parches.
“Morgan, are you coming?” Dean asks.
I pry my eyes away from my unintentional voyeuring. “Yeah,” I say, hoping it doesn’t come out sounding strangled. I will now be thinking about that for the rest of the day.
I jog ten paces to catch up to him.
“Dude, Madison would love this place,” he says, gawking at the string of Appaloosas corralled behind a gable barn.
“She would?”
That designer dress and uptalk voice screamed valley girl to me .
“She loooves animals,” he drawls. “Wants a whole herd when we buy a piece of property together someday.”
“You guys are planning to live together?”
The moment it leaves my mouth I scold myself. Quit being so judgmental . Of course the guy plans to live with his girlfriend. She’s perfectly committed as far as he knows.
“Is that so hard to believe?” he asks.
“No, it’s just…”
I should tell him. For three very important reasons: we’re alone, he brought her up, and Hailey won’t have to. I know she asked me not to, but that look . I hated seeing her so worked up. There may never be another opportunity like this again, even for her.
I stop before we reach the end of the fence line.
His eyebrows sink together. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Think, Reed . You’ve spent every day with this guy for weeks now. You can figure out what to say to him.
“I…”
“Well?” he presses.
“…was wondering if you could show me the technique for felling one this big?” I ask, turning toward the 150-foot pine that towers over us.
I am such a chicken. I’m not at all prepared to be operating heavy machinery with a heart racketing around in my chest like this, but it was the best thing I could come up with. I hand him the chainsaw for good measure.
“Woah! Reed Morgan asking me for advice?” He grips the handle from my outstretched hand.
“Hard right, remember?” I wink at him.
“Look how far you’ve come, my friend.”
Friend? Finally . Except now I’m a friend who’s keeping a secret .
Judging by the size of these pines, this property has been here for years. A rickety fence with rotting wood stakes the perimeter. It’s going to be impossible not to collapse it with these tree breaks. I crane my neck, sizing up the skyscraper before me. Maybe asking for help wasn’t the worst idea; I’m not sure where to even begin.
He stalks the circumference with me. “You need to evaluate for disease, dead branches, rot, and the proximity of neighboring trees. What do you see?” he asks.
The most I determine from my clockwise rotation is the natural lean direction. Out of all the trees we could have come across, this one’s by far the healthiest.
“A southern lean,” I reply.
“And what are your escape routes?” he asks next.
I point in two forty-five-degree angles.
“Look at you. Learned a few things in that training of yours. Okay, stand to the side of me and I’ll show you how to make the cut.”
“Ya know, this would have been helpful my first day of training. That tree almost took us both out.”
I move out of his way and he winks at me.
“Now what would be the fun in that? See what happens when you ask nicely?”
With his body at an angle to the stump, he performs a series of three cuts—two forming a wedge in the front and one from the back—before the whole thing buckles in a final collapse on the hay.
He flips the kill switch. “And that is how it’s done,” he says, whipping off his glasses. “Your turn.”
We work for hours side by side. He lets me practice; I perfect the technique. He tells me what a good job I’m doing; I throw out a praise kink joke. It’s like we’ve been doing this more than a day, more than a few weeks, more than half a summer together.
The afternoon melts into twilight, and I step back to take in our work.
“We’re out of fuel again,” I say.
“I think we should call it a night anyway.” He rounds up our gear and turns for the crew’s meeting spot.
“Wait!” I shout.
After the hours we’ve spent together, this is either the best or worst idea I’ve ever had.
“I met your girlfriend.”
When he turns around, his eyebrows are pinched together. “When?”
“R I don’t know her. I didn’t want Hailey to have to be the one to tell you. Don’t be mad at her, okay? She wanted to, there’s just?—”
“No right time to drop a bomb in someone’s lap that their girlfriend is cheating on them. Thanks, rookie. I got it.” He chucks his saw on the dried crop and stomps away.