Chapter Ten
Marc
My boss calls while I am sitting in the truck outside Eight Pines, but Kelsey is crossing the lawn toward me and I almost let the call go to voicemail. At the last moment, I decide to take it.
“Decker,” I answer.
“Tell me you’ve looked at the western-region offer.”
I watch Kelsey stop beside Nolan. She has dirt on her jeans, a pencil pushed through the knot of her hair, and a clipboard tucked beneath one arm. Four days ago, I did not know she existed. Now the sight of her after one day apart releases a pressure in my chest I did not know was there.
“I looked at it,” I say.
“That isn’t an answer.”
"You said I had until Saturday."
"Tomorrow is Friday." My boss pauses. "You asked us to create a field position that didn’t require you to chase national projects.
We created one. You can live anywhere in western Colorado as long as you reach the sites.
The salary is in front of you. The territory is in front of you. What else are you waiting for?"
Until this week, I did not know. The other offer pays more. It also puts me in charge of the company’s national troubleshooting crew, which means airports, extended-stay hotels, and a different city every time someone else’s job goes wrong.
Six months ago, I would have accepted before the sentence was finished. Now I look at the woman waiting beside a lakeside trench and wonder why I worked so hard to become the first man called whenever home was somewhere else.
"I’ll give you an answer Saturday," I say.
"By noon."
He ends the call. I leave the phone in the truck and walk toward Kelsey.
“Everything all right?” she asks.
“Yes.” It is not a lie. The choices in front of me are both good ones. One of them simply looks different than it did Monday morning. “How far did you get?”
Nolan answers with a summary. The old conductors came out cleanly once he freed the damaged section, and the remaining conduit held pressure. We should be able to pull the replacement wire, complete the terminations, and perform the initial tests before dark.
Kelsey listens as if she has not heard the information already. She asks two questions about the inspection and one about the weatherproof seal, all of them useful. When Nolan finishes, she hands me a bottle of water.
“You ate?” I ask.
“A breakfast sandwich.”
“That was seven hours ago.”
“There are sandwiches in the office.”
“Go eat one.”
Her eyebrow rises. “Recommend or want?”
I remember the first night beside the panel and fight a smile. “Strongly recommend.”
“Then strongly recommend it while we work.”
Nolan turns away, but his shoulders move with a laugh. I take the sandwich she brings me and eat half of it while we stage the pull. Kelsey does the same, standing beside me with one hand on the reel and mustard at the corner of her mouth.
I wipe it away with my thumb before I think better of it. Her eyes meet mine. The touch lasts one second, but everything from last night moves between us.
“Work first,” she says.
“I know.”
“Good.”
She smiles when she turns away.
The pull goes smoothly. Nolan feeds from one end while I guide the conductors through the repaired bend. Kelsey remains outside the restricted area, watching the reel and calling out any resistance she sees. She does not interfere. She also does not miss anything.
By seven, every termination is complete. I inspect Nolan’s work, he inspects mine, and then we test the run together. The first reading is clean. So is the second.
Kelsey stands beyond the barrier with both hands gripping the top of the temporary fence. “Well?”
I make her wait long enough to confirm the final number. “You have three cabins ready for inspection.”
Her face transforms. Relief, pride, and exhaustion move through it so quickly I feel every one of them. She comes around the barrier the moment Nolan opens it and throws both arms around my neck.
I catch her against me. Kelsey kisses me in front of Nolan, the dark cabins, and anyone else who happens to be watching from the lake. It is not a long kiss, but it is hard enough to make me forget the meter in my hand.
“Thank you,” she says against my mouth.
“Nolan will send the invoice.”
“I can be grateful and still pay the invoice.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
Nolan clears his throat. “I’m going to energize the branch now. You two might want to step away from the equipment before this becomes a different kind of safety violation.”
Kelsey laughs and moves beside me. I keep one hand at her waist while the breakers close and the cabin lights return one by one. Porch lamps glow beneath the pines. Warm squares appear in the windows of Cabins Four, Five, and Six, restoring the curve of light along the shore.
Kelsey exhales as if she has been holding that breath since Monday.
The county inspector is scheduled for seven-thirty tomorrow morning. We still need his approval before guests enter the cabins, but every test says the installation will pass. Nolan packs his equipment and leaves with instructions for us not to touch anything more complicated than a light switch.
“I have leftover chicken,” Kelsey says after his van disappears. “Or frozen fish sticks.”
“You really have fish sticks?”
“No. But I enjoy knowing you would eat them.”
We carry plates to her porch instead of the kitchen. The air has cooled, and the first stars appear above the dark line of the mountain. Kelsey tucks one bare foot beneath her in the chair while I stretch my legs toward the railing.
I think about the two jobs waiting for my answer. For once, I do not want to keep the decision separate from the person it may affect.
“My company offered me a new position,” I say.
Kelsey stills with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Where?”
“Western Colorado. I would supervise the field crews across the region. There would still be travel, but I could choose a permanent home base.”
She lowers the fork. “Is this new?”
“The formal offer came last week. The discussion started months ago.”
“Before me.”
“Long before you.”
Some of the tension leaves her forehead, although not all of it. “What is the other option?”
“National troubleshooting. More money, bigger projects, and more time away.”
“Which one do you want?”
I look toward Cabin Seven. My duffel remains half packed because it is always half packed. The apartment in Denver holds unopened boxes because opening them never seemed worth the effort. Then I look at Kelsey.
“I’m beginning to know.”
She sets her plate on the small table between us. “Marc, you have known me for four days.”
“I know how long it has been.”
“You cannot choose your entire future because we had one remarkable night.”
“Two remarkable rounds.”
Her lips twitch despite the seriousness in her eyes. “True, but seriously. This is a big decision.”
“I’m not choosing because of one night.” I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. “I asked for a position with less travel before I ever saw Eight Pines. You are not creating a desire that wasn’t there. You’re making it harder for me to ignore.”
Kelsey looks toward the lake. “I don’t want to become the reason you resent staying.”
“Then don’t make the decision for me.” I move my chair closer and take her hand. “I’m not asking you to promise me anything tonight. I’m telling you because I don’t want to stand beside you pretending the next five weeks are the only possibility.”
“What are you asking?”
“Let me decide what I want. If that includes Cady Springs, believe that I’m capable of knowing my own mind.”
Her fingers close around mine. “I can try.”
“That’s enough for tonight.”
Kelsey stares at me for a moment, then rises and steps between my knees. I put my hands on her hips, but I wait.
“I really liked waking up in your arms this morning. Do you think we can cuddle like that again?” she asks.
“I would be honored to be your cuddle buddy. Let me get changed. Check my phone which I left in my truck and I’ll be back. I don’t think you can get rid of me right now.”