8. Hugo
Hugo
Ishould be thinking about the road, about the fallen tree, about my crew, about the grant file, or about the shoulder conditions on the upper ridge access, and whether Darnell has enough hands to clear the trunk safely before the temperature drops again.
Instead, I’m thinking about her hair against my shoulder and the fact that she’s still here, tucked into me on a cot that wasn’t built for two, her hand flat against my chest, her breathing slow.
I don’t regret it, that should scare me more than it does.
The storm has moved off; I can hear the difference in the wind. It’s softer, there’s no more howling, and there’s light coming through the single window.
I lie still for another minute, then the hand-crank radio on the shelf crackles.
Darnell’s managed to get through on one bar of signal.
He lets me know that the crew has eyes on the fallen tree, the storm passed the upper ridge around three in the morning.
They can start the cut in an hour if I say go, he wants to know road conditions at the cabin access before they send the second truck up.
I ease off the cot without waking Elsie, check the door, check outside. The snow is deep but doesn't look like there’ll be any more snowfall anytime soon. The access track looks passable, so I tell Darnell to start the cut and take it slow on the shoulder north of the tree.
"Copy," he says. "Glad you're upright."
"Get the road open," I say.
I hear Corey's voice in the background saying something I decide not to acknowledge. When did my men start gossiping about my life? When I turn around, Elsie’s awake, propped on one elbow, watching me.
"Do you ever wake up normally," she says, "or is it straight into foreman mode?"
"Foreman mode keeps people alive."
"I walked into that one." She sits up and pulls the blanket around her shoulders. Her hair is loose, she has a crease from the cot on her cheek, and she looks at me with those steady hazel eyes, and I have no idea what to do with the feeling in my chest.
I hand her my flannel from the hook by the door.
"You already gave me a jacket," she says.
"It's cold."
She puts it on without arguing; it’s enormous on her, but she still looks gorgeous. We eat something from the emergency shelf, drink coffee that is more water than anything else.
"Are you going to call last night a mistake again?" she asks and I hear a tinge of fear in her voice.
"No."
She looks at me, with a look of disbelief on her face.
"I should have handled it better before," I say. "But no. I don't regret you and I certainly don’t regret what happened last night."
She’s quiet for a moment. "Okay," she says.
She picks up the grant file from where she left it on the shelf and checks that the photos are still saved, I watch as she checks the weather note she wrote at the site along with the site code reference.
She never stopped doing the job, not at the site in the storm, not here in the cabin, especially after what happened last night, she just carries on with her duties.
I don’t say anything, but I see it and I get it, we’re extremely similar when it comes to work.
Darnell has the trunk cut and half-cleared by the time we come down the access track. Corey’s on the far side with a chainsaw, working the second section, the shoulder looks solid, they did it right.
Darnell sees us and nods. "The road will be clear in twenty."
"Good work," I say. "How's the shoulder at the bend?"
He runs his hand along the back of his neck. "Packed down but holding. I put down grit on the worst stretch."
I nod. "Leave a crew member until this afternoon in case the temperature drops."
"I already planned it." He glances at Elsie, then back at me, and I see the smirk form on his face, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything.
Corey, however, has no such professionalism.
"The cabin treat you okay, folder whisperer?"
Elsie grins. "I’ve christened it The Creepy Cabin. Reilly's jacket is still there, tell him I found it."
Corey laughs.
I look at the tree and then at the shoulder, I move to check the chainsaw cut on the trunk because standing here while the crew looks between the two of us is something I don’t know how to manage. I tell myself I’m giving Elsie space from the teasing.
But the truth is, I don't know what to do other than work, this isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before.
Back at the Road & Ridge office, Elsie uploads the upper ridge photos before she’s even taken her jacket off.
I watch her set up at the desk, pull the file, cross-reference the site codes.
She writes the final weather condition note from memory, date, conditions, debris source, repair status confirmed, foreman on-site.
It’s all complete by the time Lila comes in an hour later. She looks at the upper ridge folder, looks at the index Elsie built, looks at the photo log, and her shoulders sag with relief. "This is complete," Lila says with awe. "This is actually complete."
"The weather note explains the debris," Elsie tells her. "It's flagged as supplementary but there's a clear trail back to the original repair log."
"The state pre-review flagged that section as a risk," Lila says.
"If this had come in without the photo and the note, we'd have been defending a gap.
Now there's no gap, which is good, the inspection is in four days. It got moved up due to scheduling conflicts. That’s what I came here to tell you. "
"We’re ready,” I say. “Good work, both of you." They’ve worked their asses off to get us to this point.
Elsie keeps working, writing in her notebook, not once looking up at me, I tell myself she’s focused, that she’s working. I ignore the way my chest constricts as I watch her. I go back to my desk and start the final grant submission checklist.
The office is quiet, as everyone is working, getting the grant submission finalized.
The office is empty except for Elsie and I. I hear her shuffle on her chair and turn to her. She sighs as she turns her chair slightly so she’s facing me better.
"Are you ashamed of what happened?" she asks, there’s a slight tremble to her voice.
I look at her, wondering where the hell this has come from. "No."
"Then why does it feel like you are?"
I’ve no idea what to say to that, I’m not ashamed, fuck, I want a repeat, hell, more than once. I don’t know why she would think that, but now I’m wondering if I’ve done something today to make her feel that way.
I open my mouth to say something but close it again, what the hell do I say? No, I’m not, in fact, I’m the opposite, I want you more now than ever?
I don’t answer fast enough, and she turns back to the desk.
"Daniel made me feel like loving him was embarrassing," she says, her voice sounds small and it fucking hurts to hear it.
"I can't do that again. I'm not asking you to make some announcement because the crew is watching. I'm asking you to not act like I don’t exist.”
I can’t sit any longer. Christ I’m an ass.
I rise to my feet and cross the room. "Elsie," I say roughly and she looks at me.
"I'm not ashamed," I say. "I was trying to keep the crew from making it harder for you.
I thought if I kept it quiet, I was protecting you.
" I stop. "I see now it just felt like hiding.
I'm sorry. I’m not ashamed, not at all, I want you, more than I have ever wanted anyone else. "
She looks at me for a long moment. "Words matter," she says. "But so does what comes after them."
"I know and I’m not used to this, so I’m going to mess up, just know that I’m trying.”
She grins at me. “That’s all that I ask.”
Four Days Later
Elsie’s like a ball of nervous energy as the two state inspectors arrive, both of whom are all business and the moment they arrive, they start asking questions, thankfully, that nervous energy that Elsie has works for her as she’s able to answer every question they have, and evidence to prove it, thanks to the index that she built.
Elsie pulls the red folder.
They ask for the upper ridge weather note and they ask about the crew hours discrepancy in March.
I explain the storm delay, the rerouting to the emergency culvert, the materials sitting at the south bridge an extra day.
Elsie pulls up the supplementary note she wrote that matches the explanation to the invoice.
They continue to ask question after question, the woman inspector takes notes, while the male inspector photographs the index. I can’t get a rad of either of them and I’m not sure how the inspection is going.
"Your documentation is thorough. The weather condition notes on the upper ridge file are clear, we'll include a funding recommendation in our report," the woman tells us, writing something in her notes.
"Thank you,” I say as I shake their hands, trying not to look at Elsie who’s sitting at her desk doing a little happy dance.
After they leave, Elsie throws her hands up in the air. "We did it."
"You did it," I tell her, grinning.
"Hugo, no, we all did it, it was a team effort."
"You built the system, you wrote the notes, you found the gaps in the logs. The fieldwork was mine, but the documentation was yours and that was important."
She looks at me with a raised brow and her arms crossed. I get the feeling that she’s getting angrier as she waits for me to agree with her.
"We did it," I say, and watch as she smiles, her entire face lights up with happiness.
God, she’s so beautiful.
That evening, the crew goes to The Foundry, we’re out to celebrate and my crew needs it, they’ve worked hard and it’s paid off.
Everyone is here, all having a few drinks and chilling, it’s what we do when there’s been a rough week, or a hard weather front and my crew have had that along with the inspection, it’s been a tough one and it paid off, now it’s time to let off steam.