Chapter Four #2
“We can save a section of the trunk,” I said. “I don’t build furniture, but I know someone who could look at it.”
“I’d like that.”
“I can also split the work into two visits. I’ll take down the damaged tree and clear the worst ground fuel first. The pruning can happen after you see how the area looks.”
She nodded. “That would be easier.”
“I’ll write up both options. You can choose.”
The woman glanced toward the shed behind the house.
“While you’re here, my generator has been making a terrible noise.”
I’d heard it before she mentioned it.
“I don’t repair generators,” I said. “Cade does. I’ll give you his number when I bring the estimate.”
“I thought you might listen to it.”
“I could tell you it sounds bad, but you already know that.”
Talia covered her mouth with her hand.
The woman laughed. “All right. I’ll call Cade.”
We returned to the truck after I marked the damaged tree and took the measurements I needed.
Talia waited until we had crossed the driveway before she spoke.
“You told her no.”
“I told her who could fix the generator.”
“You usually would’ve looked at it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you heard the noise when we arrived, and you looked at that shed twice.”
“I looked once.”
“You almost turned toward it when she mentioned the generator.”
I opened the passenger door for her.
“You also found a way to help with the tree without promising to solve everything.”
“The job needs doing.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I understood what you meant.”
Talia put one foot on the truck step but didn’t climb in.
“You protected something she cared about,” she said. “You didn’t only remove a hazard.”
“You’re the one who suggested the bench.”
“You agreed.”
“It was a good idea.”
She held my gaze for a second.
“You’re very good at taking care of people while insisting you don’t.”
“I gave her a work plan.”
“And a piece of her husband’s tree.”
“She asked for the work.”
Talia accepted my hand and climbed into the truck.
“You said no and still helped her,” she said once she reached the seat.
“I gave her Cade’s number.”
“You’re avoiding the compliment.”
“I’m closing this door so we can drive.”
She laughed as I walked around the front of the truck.
We ate the sandwiches at a turnout above town. Talia sat on the lowered tailgate with her boots resting on the bumper. The view opened across a green valley marked by roofs, narrow roads, and dry slopes turning gold under the July sun.
She unwrapped her sandwich.
“Does everyone around here ask you to fix something unrelated to why they called?”
“Not everyone.”
“That means most people.”
“It means enough of them.”
“Do you ever say no before the third request?”
“I did today.”
“After I arrived.”
I took a drink of water. “Are you taking credit?”
“I’m willing to accept partial credit.”
“You haven’t been at the cabin long.”
“I work quickly.”
“You cleaned one wrench.”
“And now you’re saying no to generators.”
I smiled.
Talia leaned her shoulder against mine.
I didn’t move away.
We returned to the cabin late in the afternoon.
Cade’s truck was parked near the porch.
Talia stiffened against the seat belt, but she didn’t look away from him.
Cade got out before I stopped the truck. He wore the same work-worn clothes he always did, though his hands were clean and his mouth was set.
“I won’t stay long,” he said. “I closed the profile and forwarded the confirmation to your email. I also changed the password before I disabled it so nobody could log in again.”
“You could’ve called from town,” I said.
“I wanted to ask whether either of you had more questions.”
Talia climbed down after I opened her door. She kept one hand in mine until both boots reached the ground.
“I have three,” she said.
Cade faced her. “Ask them.”
“Did you send anyone a copy of Jonah’s identification?”
“No.”
“Did you sign anything with his name?”
“No. I clicked the acceptance through the account. I didn’t sign a document.”
“Did you give anyone else access to the profile?”
“No.”
Talia held his gaze. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
She nodded once.
Cade glanced toward me. “The confirmation and the account records are all forwarded. I kept a copy in case anyone asks what happened.”
“That’s good.”
He rubbed one palm over the other. “I know coming back doesn’t fix it.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Talia said.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“I’m not ready to.”
Cade nodded.
Talia folded her arms. “I don’t need Jonah to end your friendship to prove I’m angry.”
Cade glanced toward me.
“That isn’t her decision,” I said.
“Exactly,” Talia replied. “Neither was creating a bride profile for him.”
Cade winced.
She continued before he could speak.
“You did something dangerous because you expected someone else to stop it before it became real. I’m angry, but I’m not going to spend forever deciding how you should pay for it.”
“I understand.”
“Then make sure nothing like it happens again.”
He nodded.
“I’ll leave you alone now,” he said.
“That’s probably best,” Talia replied.
Cade met my eyes once, then returned to his truck and drove away.
Talia watched until the dust settled.
“You didn’t have to make that easier for me,” I said.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You could’ve told me you never wanted him near you again.”
“I could’ve. That wouldn’t make it reasonable.”
“You’re still angry.”
“I’m furious.”
She turned toward me.
“Anger isn’t a court order, Jonah. I don’t get to sentence your friendship because Cade hurt me.”
I faced the empty road.
“He hurt both of us.”
“Yes, and you get to decide what you do about it.”
Inside, the cabin held the warm smell of closed rooms and yesterday’s garlic. Talia opened the windows while I carried in the cooler.
We made a simple dinner of leftover pasta, bread, and sliced fruit. Afterward, I spread the property notes and work receipts across the table to prepare the estimate.
Talia dried her hands and studied the papers.
“May I help?”
“With what?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve pretending I know the price of tree removal.”
I moved one stack toward her.
“These are completed jobs. Those are estimates I haven’t sent.”