A chorus of yeahs.He eyes Colby.“You know what a post driver is?”
“A… driver for posts?”Colby tries.
“It’s a metal tube you slam on a rod until your shoulders hate you,” Eli says.“Congratulations, you just volunteered.”
Reeves saunters over with Liv’s hand in his, already dressed to work, hat, worn jeans, boots that have seen things.He bumps my shoulder.“Morning, Captain.”
“Morning.”
He tips his chin toward Tessa, who’s leading the bay to a patch of shade, talking low and easy to him.“You play your cards right,” he says quietly, “you might learn something today.”
I don’t trust my mouth, so I grunt.My eyes won’t leave her, as she ties the horse, checks the knot, and rubs under his forelock where he can’t itch.The lucky animal closes his eyes and leans into her touch.
Kenzie leans into my side.“Don’t be weird today,” she whispers, not unkind.“Just work.”
“I can do that,” I say, and for once it feels true.I hate that this is what they think of me.I grew up on this farm, and it's like I am now somehow an outsider.
Jamie appears with a camera and a smile.“Do you mind if I grab a few shots?‘Kodiaks give back’ content.Promise I’ll keep it real, no staged stuff.”
Dad hears that and mutters, “We aren’t a zoo, or a charity,” but Mom softens it with a smile at Jamie.“We don't mind.Just make us look good.”
He beams.“Yes, ma’am.”
We move.Loading the truck is muscle memory I didn’t know I still had.The guys help me load everything into the back of one of the work trucks.Eli talks to the guys about who should be on the side by sides, then his eyes shift, and he watches me for a long second, and I work like I need to earn air.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tessa again, no, feel her, and when I look, she’s already looking back, a quick, unreadable sweep that lands and leaves.It hums under my ribs like the start of a song I haven’t learned yet.
“Nate!”Eli barks.“You daydreaming or driving?”
“Driving,” I say, stepping up to the driver's side and hopping into a truck I grew up in.
Somewhere behind us, Olivia squeals at something in the garden.Mom’s laugh floats through the air.Tessa is back up on her horse, now holding the reins for Eli's mustang, with Kenzie hopping on a side-by-side, hollering at McKenna to hop on or he's walking.
I follow Dad in his truck and settle in for what I know will be a brutal day.
But maybe this is what I’ve been missing: the heat, the work, the part of me that only wakes up when my hands do something useful.Maybe it’s the woman who walked onto my parents’ land like she’d been there the whole time.Maybe it’s both.
All I know is that for the first morning in a long time, the negative noise in my head has a rival.
And I plan to let this one win.
Chapter 13 - Nate
The sun’s brutal by late morning, that prairie kind of heat that bakes from above and reflects back up from the dirt, like the world’s trying to cook you twice.Sweat slides down my spine, gluing my shirt to me.My hands are raw, shoulders burning, and for once, it feelsgood.Real.Simple.Every clang of the post driver, every grunt and curse, works something loose in me that I didn’t know was stuck.
Out here, there’s no noise but wind, tools, and the occasional “shit” when someone misses the mark.The girls are whining, the guys are sweating, and Jamie looks like he’s having a religious experience.He’s grinning behind that camera like this is his Super Bowl.
If social media awards had Oscars, the kid would be writing his acceptance speech right now.
Kenzie and Tessa are saints, patient, efficient, calm, even when the groupies start complaining about the bugs and the smell and “cow poop proximity.”I’m half-tempted to offer them a refund for coming.They’d do us all a favour if they packed up and went back to the city.
Tessa doesn’t slow.She’s triaging at a glance, who needs water, who needs a tip on the driver, which panel is too loose, which wire doesn’t look right.
She crosses to Anders, who’s trying to brute-force a post like it insulted his ancestors.“You’re muscling it,” she says, voice even.“Let the weight do it.Elbows loose.”
He tries it her way, and the post slides cleaner.He tips her a grin like the sun came out just for him.“If we’re both single at thirty, marry me.”
“Hey, fucker,” I call without looking up.“You are already thirty-one.”
