“See you in a bit,” he said, his voice sounding like this was any other morning, and not one that had Kell’s heart pounding a rollicking military tattoo.
Kell hurried, but Marston beat him to the pavilion just the same, fussing with two small day-sized backpacks, and two wool-sided canteens. Between the two backpacks was a pile of pink plastic flags on slender metal sticks.
“Pink?” asked Kell, going over to the pile to pick one up and twirl it in his fingers.
“Colors for these flags have meanings,” said Marston. “Red for electricity, yellow for gas, and so on. Pink is for survey markings, so we’ll use it to indicate where the holes for the signs will go.”
“I see.” And Kell did see, as he’d noticed different colored flags in the past, but as he looked up Marston looked away, as if he wasn’t sure that his previous warmth was at all appropriate or even wanted.
Just then, Gabe showed up, walking out from the woods and stepping into the shade of the pavilion.
“Hey,” he said. “I heard you’re planting marking flags today. That’s a lot of miles of trail, so did you think you’d need some help?”
For a moment, as Marston drew in a breath and held it, Kell imagined he knew what was going through Marston’s mind.
If Marston was having doubts, a change of heart, then he’d welcome the distraction of having every single parolee in the valley surrounding them. But, if he didn’t mind what had started between him and Kell, welcomed it even, then he’d tell Gabe no, leaving Marston and Kell alone together for a good long stretch of time.
Kell held his breath.
“We’re good, I think,” said Marston. “We’ll see how far we get. Tomorrow, we might need some extra bodies so we can finish up.”
“Sounds good,” said Gabe. “See you at lunch.”
With a wave, he headed back down the path that led into the woods, and, once again, Kell and Marston were alone. Which was how Kell wanted it and maybe how Marston wanted it, as well, for as he let out a breath and squared his shoulders, it was as if he was about to face a firing squad. Yet, at the same time, his eyes were bright, and there was a small, very small, curve to the corner of his mouth, a Marston-sized smile.
“Grab half of these and put ‘em in your backpack,” said Marston, diving into the work, showing Kell how it was to be for the day. Sticking to business, getting things done, with the promise of something later. Or at least the sense of a promise. Otherwise, why would Marston suggest the evening swim, seem disappointed that there’d now be a crowd, and turn Gabe away even though they could have used the help?
When they were ready, backpacks on, canteens over their shoulders, a few flags in hand, Marston surprised Kell by unfolding a paper map, and grabbed a stub of a red pencil from the table.
“I know, right?” asked Marston. “Cell service is unreliable in the valley, so I’m using a topographic map, set to scale, so we just get this area.” He held out the map to Kell, showing him the red dots where the flags needed to go. “That way, if we need help digging holes, which we might, they just need to look for the pink flags.”
Marston handed the map and the stub of red pencil to Kell and strode purposefully toward the mess tent. There, he planted a pink flag, gestured that Kell should mark the map, and said, “This is our starting point.”
Kell knew that they’d been creating signs that indicated direction and distance, as well as ones that said what kind of tree or rock formation something was. Hole digging was an unpleasant prospect, so he hoped they’d get help for that, but in the meantime, being alone with Marston while they planted pink flags was fun, and it was interesting to go into different parts of the compound amidst the quiet morning air.
It was when they headed out from the woods that it got truly hot, the sun blazing down, dust kicking up from their boots as they walked and bent and planted flags where Marston’s map said they should.
They passed a group of parolees in a clearing in the forest, with Wayne at the helm of the wood chipper, looking self-important as he gave Kell a mock salute.
Further into the field, along the horse paddock, other parolees were digging up the last of the Russian olive tree roots, a task which Kell was mightily glad he wasn’t a part of.
The lake stretched in a blue curve to their right as they worked, looking cool and inviting, and they followed the path alongside it all the way to where the old dock was.
“I thought it’d be nothing but nails and wood rot,” said Marston as he paused to take a swig from his canteen. “It’s marked in my notes as being old, but it looks pretty good. Good enough for diving off of, anyway.”
There was sweat along Marston’s brow beneath his straw cowboy hat, but he looked pleased at the prospect of an evening swim. His smile as he looked down at Kell was small, but it warmed Kell just the same.
“Where the lake narrows—” Marston paused, brushing his thumb along his lower lip. “There used to be a bridge crossing, but I don’t know if it’s there anymore. We might tell Gabe what we find.”
What they found at the southern point where the lake narrowed, the tip turning into a fast, narrow river tumbling across rocks, was that there were two logs and a broken-toothed stretch of wood that had once spanned the distance between the two logs, both of which were sagging to one side.
“Definitely needs replacing,” said Marston. “Well, let’s head back, get some lunch, and then hit the other side of the lake this afternoon.”
They’d scattered a trail of pink flags in their wake, and a gladness settled in Kell’s heart to be working with Marston like this, just the two of them, side by side.
They arrived late at the mess tent and had to hurry through lunch, refilling their canteens before crossing the bridge at the top of the lake to take the path among the willow bushes. In the curve of the sage-green branches bending over their heads, the air was still and humid, smelling like dampness and old, last-winter trees turning into mulch.
They were sweating buckets by the time they followed the path along the north side of the lake to where it ended, where the different teams had last left off in their path building.
