Chapter 9
LEE
Landon hasn’t been able to trace the origin of the texts, but there also hasn’t been another one.
It’s been a week. So, whoever it was probably moved on to scam someone else once I didn’t take the bait.
The weather has finally realized it’s November and started behaving like it.
The cool air seeps through my shirt the second I step outside, but I’ll be glad for it in a few minutes once I get to work.
Arlow parks beside my truck and hops out. “You want the sandbags in your truck bed?”
“Unless you want to carry them around the lake.”
He flips me off as I join him and we shift the bags from his truck to mine, where the rest of my supplies wait.
He swipes some hair out of his eyes and reseats his ball cap on his head. “Any idea what happened?”
“My guess is someone took that turn too quickly and ended up in the ditch then got themselves out without reporting anything. The culvert is busted, and debris has it backed up. It’s a two man job. Thanks for the hand.”
“Sure.”
Silver emerges from the house. “Are you leaving? I’ll lock the door.”
When I nod, she turns to do just that, and my gaze goes straight to her ass. No one could blame me with those leggings she has on. They hug her tight and leave nothing to the imagination. Her thin, long-sleeved shirt clings to her breasts when she comes down the steps.
“Are you going jogging?” I know she likes to run but it’s usually on a treadmill at the gym.
She pauses and looks down at herself. A runner’s belt is fastened around her waist with a water bottle strapped to it, and earbuds are tucked into her ears. “No, I’m going ballroom dancing.”
Arlow laughs and she flashes a smile at him.
“Smart ass. You could’ve been going for a hike.”
She shrugs. “A little of both. I’ll jog the road there and take the trail back around.”
The words spill out before I can give them a second thought. “No. You can’t go alone. It’s not safe.” God help any man who tries to tell Silver what she can’t do.
Arlow’s already covering his smile at the expression on her face before she looks to the left and right, then turns to check behind her.
“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking to, but I know it isn’t me.
First of all, I don’t obey men. It’s a policy.
Secondly…” She reaches into her belt and pulls out a can of mace and a knife. “I have these.”
“It gets dark an hour earlier,” I remind her. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her to be back before then, but she’d probably stay out later to prove a point. If she isn’t, I’ll find her.
“Yep. That’s how daylight saving time works,” she chirps, jogging away. “I’ll be back by then.”
“Fine.”
She’s already down the driveway to the road when she calls back over her shoulder. “Whew, I was really worried you wouldn’t give your permission.”
She’s lucky Arlow’s here, or I’d be dragging her sexy, mouthy self inside to test the theory that she doesn’t obey men. She sure does in the bedroom. I turn to see Arlow with his brows raised and a grin on his face. “Shut up.”
He laughs as we climb into my truck. “How are things going with the living situation?”
My mind flashes to her bent over my bed last night, fisting my sheets and screaming my name.
Then to her smiling at me as she slid pancakes onto a plate for breakfast. I’m used to living alone and wasn’t looking forward to having anyone here long term, but I have no complaints.
We mostly see each other in the evenings, and everything is very relaxed.
Twice since that first night, she’s ended up underneath me.
Once when I started it and another time when she did.
No matter where I take her, she goes back to her bed without a second thought afterward.
“It’s fine. She works late and doesn’t spend much time here.” I change the subject, and we talk about the weird texts and how nothing ended up coming from them.
“That’s a relief.” He regards me more closely. “Are you doing alright? After having that brought up again?” My only response is a nod, and he accepts it.
The busted culvert we need to fix is at the edge of the driveway to cabin three. Arlow stands over it and lets out a long whistle as he stares down at the warped drainage pipe. “That thing looks like it got into a fight with a dump truck.”
“It definitely lost. I’ll get the sandbags if you’ll grab the tarp.” While I pile the sandbags to stop the flow of water temporarily, Arlow spreads a tarp out beside the culvert.
I hand him a shovel. “Here. You dig that side. I’ll take this one.
” We drop down into the ditch and start digging.
The dirt’s heavy from last night’s rain, and it lands with a wet thump on the tarp.
A rock smacks the edge of his shovel, making a crack that echoes through the pipe.
“Was that your shovel or your spine?” I call.
“My back is fine. Do you have a knee brace on under those muddy jeans, old man?”
“Fuck off.” We clear enough soil to reveal the damaged area right across the top of the pipe. No wonder the water decided to take a shortcut straight into the woods.
“Well,” Arlow says, pushing a clump of mud aside, “that’s broke as hell. Are we just replacing the section?”
“That’s the plan.” I pick up the reciprocating saw and start to cut away the damaged section of corrugated metal. The saw bucks, nearly hopping out of my hands.
“Quit fighting it,” he says.
“I’m not fighting it.” My words come out through gritted teeth. “I’m gently persuading it.”
“Looks real persuaded.”
I swear under my breath, but eventually the damaged chunk gives and drops into the mud where I kick it out of the way.
“Easy part’s done,” I announce. “Let’s slide the new section in, clamp it, and call it a day.
” We grab the replacement piece and try to slide it into place.
It goes in an inch, sticks, and refuses to move another millimeter.
Arlow shoves it. “Stubborn son of a bitch.”
I plant my boots and push too. “We need more leverage.”
“We need someone smarter than us.”
“Then we’re screwed.”
He snorts, grabs the coupling, and jerks his chin. “Lift your end.” We wiggle, swear, adjust angles, and shove again. The pipe suddenly pops into alignment so fast we both freeze like we might scare it back apart if we breathe wrong.
Arlow nods at me. “Nailed it.”
“Oh yeah, we’re a couple of pros.” We clamp everything tight and start backfilling. I shovel while Arlow tamps it down. We get the last layer compacted, pull the sandbags aside to let the water flow, and watch the stream run smoothly through the culvert.
A rattle in the bushes catches my attention, but it’s just a squirrel. I’m surprised Rogue hasn’t showed up. She usually comes to investigate the sound of power tools. “I’m going to make a pot of chili if you want dinner,” I offer as we reload my truck with the sandbags and tools.
“Thanks, but I need to get back. Calli and Mom are cooking a big family dinner. That reminds me, you’re invited for Thanksgiving. Silver too, but I’m sure Calli has already mentioned it to her.”
We climb back in the truck and start toward my place. “I appreciate it. I’ll let you know.” It’s not happening and we both know it. I don’t give two shits about the holidays.
“How’s Silver doing? Calli’s really worried about her.”
“She’s holding it together. If they’d stop delaying with the cause of the fire so the insurance would pay, she'd be a lot better.”
“No doubt.” He hesitates before asking. “Are you interested in her?”
“You know better than that.” He’s known me for years and understands why I’ll never be serious with anyone again.
“I know it’s none of my business, but like I said, Calli’s worried about her. Silver told her you two were hooking up again, and with her living here…just be careful, okay? She doesn’t need any more hurt.”
We pull into my driveway. “I hear you. There’s nothing to worry about. We talked about it and she doesn’t want anything more than I do. Or to put it in her words. ‘I don’t need a man making things worse.’”
Arlow chuckles. “That sounds like her.”
Once he drives away, I head inside, happy to see that Silver’s back. I’m surprised that Rogue is curled up with her on the couch. Goblin lays on Silver’s other side, sound asleep. Silver smiles up at me. “Your crazy dog loves a bath.”
“She does. You wasted your time though. You have about ten minutes before she wants back out in the mud.”
“Nah, it’s too chilly. She’s already been right here for an hour.” Rogue looks up at me as Silver hugs her, then lays her head back down on her lap. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dog so calm.
“They get along?” I ask, nodding to her cat.
“So far so good.”
“What are you doing?” I ask Rogue, scratching behind her ear. “Making a liar out of me.” I look up at Silver. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, but I’m just going to open a can of tomato soup. I’m not really hungry.”
“I’m going to make chili if you change your mind.”
She stays on the couch, watching TV while I chop and prepare the ingredients and get the chili going.
Once it’s simmering, I return to the living room.
Rogue puts one paw on my leg when I sit down next to them but stays close to her.
“She likes you. She only lets Arlow pet her for about three seconds before running off.”
“She’s a gorgeous dog. Australian Shephard?”
“Mixed with something. What are you watching?”
“A serial killer documentary. But it’s over.” She hands over the remote. “You pick.”
While I’m looking through the options, she gestures to a picture on my fireplace mantel. “Is that your dad?”
“Grandpa,” I reply, shaking my head. The picture shows him holding a fish with his fishing rod in the other hand.
“Where are your parents now?”
“Mom died of cancer about eighteen years ago. Dad took off right after Lacey was born. He was a piece of shit.”
“I’m sorry. Mine was too. He left when Mom was pregnant. Did your grandpa teach you how to fish?”