I looked over at Dane, who finally had enough sense to realize that this little trick wasn’t the smartest move of the day, which was saying a lot about a guy who’d decided to shave his dry face with a dull razor while eating his cereal. Multitasking was what he’d called it, a big word for Dane.
“Just stand there and nod to agree with everything he says,” I advised my brother as he pulled on his shirt. He headed toward the office.
“Not you,” Hal called. “The other Wolfe.”
“Shit.” I shot Nathan an angry glare and crossed the yard. Dane grinned and patted me on the shoulder as we passed each other. I flicked his hand away and walked to the office.
Hal plunked his big, doughy frame into his desk chair. It squeaked and rolled back a few inches. “Shut the door, Wolfe.”
I closed the door. The steel spikes on my shoes clicked on the cement floor as I walked to his desk. His office always smelled like the mints he’d been sucking on to help him give up cigarettes. The lingering smoke in the air indicated that the mints weren’t working. He had a couple chairs, but they were both filled with file folders. The entire office was a carnival of paperwork, receipts and order forms. One good gust of wind through the front window could wipe out an entire year of business.
Hal pushed aside a messy pile as if that one small move was going to make his desk look suddenly organized. Three coffee cups, each with an inch of dried brown residue in the bottom, lined the front of his computer keyboard. “I’ve got a new girl coming in tomorrow to spiff this place up and do a little organization,” he mumbled, almost as if he was just reminding himself of it.
He leaned back. His gray eyes peered up from his round, ruddy face as he crossed his nine and half fingers across his belly. Half a finger had gotten in a tangle with a conveyor belt, a laughable irony for a man who’d worked ten years with a saw blade cutting logs down to size. It was sort of like a cowboy breaking colts his whole life and then screwing up his knee on a golf course.
“You wanted to see me, Hal?”
He released a long sigh. “You do good work, Jem. God knows, I was taking a chance hiring on you and Dane. Everyone kept warning me that I was inviting trouble letting the Wolfe brothers work for me. I ignored them, and I ignored the fact that you’ve been to prison—”
“Juvenile hall,” I corrected him.
“Hmm,” he said with a brow lift. “Anyhow, your brother just cost me two hours labor with that little stunt he pulled, and as you know, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”
I squinted down at him. “You called me in here to complain about Dane.”
“Well, it’s just easier to communicate—”
A short, dry laugh left my mouth before I could stop it. “You’re scared of him.”
His face reddened as he tripped and somersaulted over his tongue looking for a response.
“You figured you’d just relay the reprimand through me. You tell my brother to his face. None of this management by proxy bullshit.”
He attempted to stand up authoritatively, but his big belly made that move less than impressive. “I’m not afraid of Dane, but you’d better rein that boy in or you’ll both be out of a job.” A thin line of spittle rolled from the side of his mouth, a sure sign that he was pissed as hell. “And let him know I’m docking him for the money it will take to restack those logs.”
“Tell him yourself. You’re the boss.” I smacked the door open with the palm of my hand and walked out.
The workers had all gone back to their respective duties, but plenty of glances were being tossed my direction. Dane was back inside the mill pulling cut boards from the conveyor belt. It was a job that took more strength than wits, a perfect task for Dane.
He yanked out an earplug. “Did you get in trouble, bro?” The thunderous noise inside made it nearly impossible to hear him.
I shook my head and walked on. I slid past the conveyor belt, and again, everyone’s eyes followed me as I walked through the building. The pungent smell of fresh cut wood clung to the tiny particles of sawdust floating in the air. The late afternoon sun barely reached the building windows, and sharply contrasted shadows fell across the machinery.
I reached the opposite side where Nathan was setting hardwood logs on the log table for the short transfer to the log cradle. He hadn’t seen me walk through, but as he turned around, he blanched white and his lips pulled tight.
“Told you the idiot came up with the plan all by himself.” Just like Hal, nervous spit sprayed from his mouth as he spoke.
I ignored his plea and walked straight toward him. I grabbed his shirt and slapped his back hard against the steel side of the platform. A grunt of pain shot from his mouth. He made a pathetic try at knocking my hand from his shirt. The attempt seemed to hurt him more than me as he shook out his fingers.
“Fuck, Wolfe, this wasn’t my fault.”
“This doesn’t happen again, do you fucking hear me?”
“Right, fine. Shit, Wolfe, not my fault your brother is a fool.”
I leaned in closer, and he pushed his head back against the ramp trying to put distance between us. “Considering I could just put my fist through your face right now and end your miserable existence, I’d say you’re either braver than I gave you credit for or you’re even stupider than I figured. I’m leaning toward stupid.”
His mouth pulled into a grim line. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right.” I released him and straightened out the crease I’d put in his flannel shirt. I turned around. The other workers quickly returned their attention to their tasks. I could feel Nathan’s eyes shooting invisible bullets at my back as I walked away. But that was nothing new for me.
Chapter 3
Tashlyn
The first half hour of the trip along the winding road had been on a gradual incline but now it seemed we were heading on a mission straight up to the stars. Everly pulled two pieces of gum from her pocket. “Here, I came prepared. After awhile, swallowing spit just doesn’t do the trick. My ears are ready to burst.”
I took the gum. “How high are we?’
“Blackthorn Ridge is at eight thousand feet. We get plenty of snow up here in the winter.”
I gazed out at the wide expanse of picturesque forest lining the road. Farther down was a long swath of cleared land, a nearly naked valley running through the center of the impossibly dense foliage. A river bordered one side of the clearing and a curvy, dirt road traveled like a snake up to the highway. The metal roofs of buildings, buildings that looked like dollhouses from our vantage point, glinted silver in the last strokes of the late day sun. Thin streams of white smoke floated up from two smokestacks.
“Is that the Bucktooth Sawmill?” I asked.
“Yep. Half the men in town work for Hal Stevens, the owner.”
I stretched my neck up to get a better look. “I start my job there tomorrow. Not cutting wood or anything. I’ll be on office duties.”
Everly’s face whipped back toward me. “You’re shittin’ me. You’re going to be working there?”
“I found the job online and applied. I’d been working in an office in a city near The Grog, so I had some of the qualifications the owner was looking for. I need to earn some kind of wage up here, or I’ll have to head right back down the hill.”
A short laugh spurted from Everly’s lips, nearly making the gum pop from her mouth. “Holy crap. Did you send a picture with your resume, or did Hal just hire you sight unseen?”
“No picture.” I was a little hurt by her reaction to my working at the mill. “Why? I assure you I am qualified. I even have a degree. Of course it’s in anthropology, but it counts for something.”
“I’m not doubting your qualifications at all. It’s just—” She looked me up and down. “You’re so beautiful, and it’s just a big bunch of horny men working at that place.” She laughed again. “Something tells me we’re going to be hearing about a lot more accidents out there at the mill.” She noticed my expression. “Oh, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, Tash. It’ll be fine. I’m jealous. I’m stuck working in my uncle’s dreary grocery store, and you’ll be out there on the river with all the men in town walking around shiny with sweat and glittering with sawdust. Although most are not any better with sawdust glitter, trust me. My guy, or at least the guy I hope to land someday, works out there on the water. His name is Finn, and he’s as big as he is sweet. Most people think he’s kind of weird because he’s super quiet, but he’s a big teddy bear. Besides, I like a man who doesn’t waste words or ramble on like—well, like me.” She tucked her tawny brown hair behind her ear, and I noticed a small sliver of the scar trailing up past her ear and stopping at her temple.