Chapter 6
Marco
I was a damn near block of ice when I returned from the lake. The snow was falling nearly sideways in the wind. I was able to follow the well-worn path, though, and make it to the cabin in one piece.
As I warmed myself by the fire, Kellen diligently transcribed the numbers. Too bad we didn’t have power—would be nice to get him to input them into the computer.
The least favorite part of my job.
When my fingers were no longer numb. I put a couple of logs in the stove, lit them, and headed to the kitchen. I had six eggs left—I planned to fry them up along with the flat of bacon. Filling and greasy.
What more could a man ask for?
Kellen put the pencil down. “Do you think I can chop some wood?”
“Sure.” I eyed him as the eggs cooked. “Have you ever chopped wood before?”
“I can do it.”
“Okay, after lunch.”
We ate in silence. I scarfed down my food, not having realized how hungry I was.
Kellen ate more slowly.
“You okay?”
“Sure. Just, uh, wondering where the axe is.”
“There’s a woodshed with a bunch of tools. You know what an axe looks like?”
He glared.
I yanked my keys out from my pocket and showed him which one it was.
“Dad’s worried about theft?”
“Your father’s worried about bears burrowing into the shed and scaring the crap out of any human who might wander by.”
“They’re able to open the door?”
“Yep.”
“They’re able to close the door?”
The quick response died on my lips. “Well, possibly not. But the wind might blow it closed. The point is you don’t want critters hunkering down in the shed.”
“Right.”
When we finished eating, I grabbed the dishes.
“I should do that. You cooked, right?”
“Did you know you’re not supposed to pour bacon grease down the sink?”
He stared blankly.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll do the cooking, and you…do whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“Chop wood.”
“Right. Chop wood. Make sure you wear my coat. You’ll be a popsicle in yours in under a minute.” Maybe ten, but he’d understand my point.
He nodded, rose from the table, and made his way over to the front door. He donned my parka, palmed the keys, and headed outside.
Wearing his freaking sneakers.
I hustled to get the dishes done—including pouring the grease into a mason jar I used just for this.
How much trouble can he possibly get in?
Do you really want an answer to that question?
No, probably not.
I shoved my feet into my boots, tossed on the sweater I wore when the temperature hovered around freezing, and headed outside.
My heart sank.
Kellen had found the axe. Had found the stump to chop the wood on. Had even found the pile that needed to be split into smaller pieces.
And now he sat on that stump with his jean leg raised.
I hustled my ass over there, relieve not to see gushing blood. I crouched down to examine his shin.
“Well?”
I sighed. “I’ll get some tweezers and should be able to extract that sliver. Lucky you didn’t chop your toe off.”
“Hey.” Hurt and defensive.
I gazed up and into his stunning-blue eyes. And stared.
His lips twitched into a pout.
“Your efforts were appreciated, Kellen. But chopping wood takes skill and practice. You can’t just wield an axe and cut the wood.”
“That cute guy on YouTube makes it look super easy.”
I squinted. “I’m not going to ask. And I promise you he wasn’t chopping with ease the first time he picked up an axe.
” I stood. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.
” I hustled to the cabin and retrieved my tweezers.
Moments later, I was kneeling before him and removing the sliver. Then I pressed an alcoholic swab to it.
“Shit. Give a guy a warning.”
“So you can try to talk me out of it? No. I need to ensure you don’t get infected.”
He pursed his lips.
I was undeterred. “Do you think you can stand?”
“Of course I can stand.” He jutted his chin.
To myself, I smiled. Outwardly, I aimed for implacable. “All right. Let’s get you inside.”
“What about the wood?”
I frowned, then pointed to the massive pile against the side of the house.
“Son of a bitch.” He glared. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wanted to be helpful.” Because I felt guilty for calling you a waste of space. “Look, I have to go out to check my sensors again. You think you’ll be okay?”
The snow had stopped while we ate lunch, but the low, gray clouds still menaced.
“I’ll be okay. You need your coat.”
“Well, yeah.”
See? He can be a considerate person.
He removed the coat, shoved it at me, then hustled to the house. “I’ll start dinner while you’re away.”
I didn’t ask him if he knew how to cook.
In retrospect, I probably should have.