Pop couldn’t do much outdoor work anymore. He’d held out as long as he could, pushing himself every day and stumbling into his recliner every night with barely a complaint, even though I’d known he was in agony. He was used to being outdoors, working with his hands and his body. I’d barely held back tears when he’d come home from the doctor one day a few years ago and set his wheelchair just inside the front door. We hadn’t discussed it, and it had taken months for him to even use it.
Ian and I tried to keep up with the property. We split and stacked wood when we saw that it was getting low, mowed the grass and blackberries when they got out of hand, and last summer we’d even rebuilt the chicken coop when a summer storm had knocked a tree branch onto the roof—but it was nearly impossible to stay on top of things. There was always so much to do. I didn’t know how my pop had maintained it by himself for so many years, and I knew it killed him to see us struggling to manage while he was stuck watching.
My throat tightened.
I should’ve thought to let my dad control the splitter while I did the heavy work. In less than a day, Daniel had pinpointed exactly where he needed help and given my pop enough room to contribute.
I cleared my throat and crossed my arms.
“Excuse me,” I called, striding toward them. “When exactly did you two become best friends?”
“About the time he stumbled into the kitchen asking for coffee,” my dad replied over the sound of the splitter, his smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “And asked if there was anything he could help out with while you were sleepin’ the day away.”
“First of all, I needed that rest,” I countered, pointing at him. I couldn’t hide my own smile. “And second of all, splitting wood is the only fun job on this property, and you stole it like a couple of thieves.”
“Sorry, baby,” Daniel said with a laugh, heaving another round onto the splitter. “You wanna stack?”
“That’s literally the worst part of the whole thing,” I grumbled good-naturedly.
Heading into the barn, I grabbed my gloves off the workbench inside. I pulled them on as I went back to help. Thankfully, the weather was cool but not freezing, just nice enough to get away with not wearing a coat. Physical labor while wearing a coat absolutely sucked. It got so hot while you were working, but if you took the coat off, when the cold air hit your sweaty shirt beneath, you were instantly freezing.
“All of them are already stacked,” I complained loudly the moment I’d reached the woodshed. Twice as many pieces were in there than I’d noticed last week, and I knew my pop hadn’t split them on his own.
“Danny’s been stackin’ ’em as we go,” my pop called back.
“Well, what the hell am I going to do?” I asked, spinning back toward them.
“You can take the new ones,” Daniel replied, tossing them by his feet. “We’ll move a hell of a lot faster if I’m not stacking.”
“Yeah, it seems like you guys have really been slowed down,” I joked, walking over to pick up the pieces.
Daniel cocked his head to the side as he watched me.
“Thank you,” I mouthed silently.
I stumbled over my own feet when he winked back.
We worked out there until Danny noticed that my pop was flagging, which was only about five minutes after I’d noticed.
“You ready to take a break?” he asked nonchalantly. “I’m starving.”
Pop made a face that was the old man equivalent of rolling his eyes, but he still reached over to turn off the machine.
“Thank God,” I gasped dramatically as I carried the most recent firewood toward the shed. “I’m wasting away.”
After I’d set the pieces in their stack, I let out a yelp when I turned to find Daniel standing behind me.
“Crap!” I smacked myself in the chest like I could get my heart beating again. “You startled me.”
“I wasn’t being quiet,” he replied, reaching out to pick a piece of wood off the chest of my hoodie. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” I replied dryly as I pulled off my gloves. “I don’t know the last time I slept so late.”
“You needed it.”
“I thought you were tired,” I countered, smacking him lightly with my gloves. “But apparently you were awake with the sun.”
“You’re not far off,” he said as we turned to walk toward the house. My pop had already disappeared inside. “Once the sun came through your window, it was impossible to fall back asleep.”
