“The wood’s gotta get split,” he said, pulling the gloves back on.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have to split the entire season’s worth of wood before the season even starts,” she shot back. “I thought you’d let me know when you heard from your editor.”
He shrugged and set one of the halved pieces on end. Then he hefted the splitting maul again. “I was going to, but I knew you’d offer to help.”
“I thought that was the point.”
The splitting maul dropped and wood flew. “I didn’t want you to think the only time I talk to you is when I need help, like I’m taking advantage of your friendship.”
When he walked over to the other halved piece and bent to pick it up, there was no force on earth strong enough to make her look away from his ass in those jeans.
“That’s what friends are for,” she reminded him, thankful her voice didn’t come out hoarse—or squeaky, since either was a possibility.
“Maybe.” He set the wood on its end and picked up the maul. “But there’s not much I can help you with, so I feel like I’m getting a whole lot of support without giving any back, you know?”
Another swing of the maul, but this time Kenzie was too distracted by the frustration in his voice to admire the movement of his body. While she appreciated that he recognized a friendship’s give-and-take should be balanced, it was obvious he needed some help and wasn’t letting himself ask for it.
“I enjoy the time I spend with you, Danny.” That was an understatement. It was more likecraved, but that would probably get her a raised eyebrow. “I don’t have many bookish people in my life, and talking about yours with you has been awesome. And you’ve reminded me how good a long walk outside is for my well-being. I don’t run friendship on a points system, and nobody’s keeping track.”
He set down the maul. “I swear, you’re one of the best things to happen to me, Kenzie Pelletier.”
Even though she knew what he meant by that, the rush of pleasure his words triggered weakened her knees. “You can tell me what your editor said while we stack all this wood you’ve split.”
He chuckled, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I should have stacked as I went, but it felt so good to swing the splitting maul.”
They worked side by side for thirty minutes or so, with Danny talking her through his editor’s feedback while they stacked the wood he’d split into a primitive lean-to. They’d bundle it with strings into a decent-sized campfire’s worth of wood, but Hannah said they didn’t do all of them in advance because a lot of the seasonal and the transient campers staying longer than a weekend would save money by having one of the guys deliver a bucket load with the big tractor.
So they just stacked and talked until Danny ran out of steam. He went to the tractor that was shading a cooler, from which he pulled two bottles of water. He shook the icy droplets off as he nodded toward a fallen log that looked like a makeshift bench. Sure enough, he sat on it and then handed her one of the waters when she sat next to him.
“Honestly,” she said after taking a long drink. “I didn’t really understand a lot of that because I’m not fluent in publishing terms. But mostly you seem to keep circling back to one suggestion and whether or not you want to make that change. The rest of it you just talk about like it’s annoying, but that? Your whole body tenses up and you sound angry.”
“Huh.” He turned to face her. “Really?”
“Really.”
His grin lit up his face. “That’s pretty telling, I guess.”
“Sure.” Sometimes she wasn’t even sure what she’d said that was helpful, but he seemed to have gotten what he needed from the conversation because his body relaxed. “How long did they give you?”
“She didn’t give me an exact date, but she did mention that as soon as humanly possible would be good or I might step outside one day and find her, my publicist and half the marketing team sobbing on my front step.”
“And now we know why you’re hiding out here,” she said, making him laugh. “So maybe it’s time to put down the splitting maul and open the laptop?”
“Yeah.” He flexed the hand not holding the water and winced. “I might have overdone it a little.”
“You think? You probably won’t be able to move by Saturday.”
He pressed his half-empty water bottle to his forehead for a second. “Saturday? Oh, damn. That’s the trail maintenance day, isn’t it?”
Most of the trails that the local ATV club administered were on private property. To thank the landowners, they went out every year, before the trails opened, to pick up any litter, as well as addressing washouts, downed trees and any other problems that popped up over the winter.
“It is, and you can’t get out of it. Even Corinne’s Kitchen is closed for the day.”
“Wait. You’re closed Saturday?” He put his hand over his heart. “Shouldn’t you have to notify people? Imagine my devastation if I got my heart set on popcorn chicken and found the door locked.”
Kenzie chuckled, leaning over to nudge his shoulder. “There’s been a notice on the door and on our Facebook Page since yesterday. Also, the locals know we always close to do trail work with the club. Rob and Hannah haven’t mentioned it?”
He sighed. “No. I’m sure it’s on the calendar, but they haven’t talked about it. They’ve been trying to keep me focused on the edits since the email arrived, but I’m here as a stand-in for Brian, so that doesn’t feel fair.”
