Four weeks left until Kelly comes back.
Four weeks of her still being my employee.
But I’m not sure I can fight it anymore.
Hell, I don’t even know if I want to.
CHAPTER 16
WILLOW
Itry calling my mom today.
It goes straight to voicemail, which both relieves and unsettles me.
I leave her a message anyway, keeping it light, careful. I remind her that I’m out of pocket for a bit, but that she can leave me a message now at a new number.
I give it to her slowly, clearly.
I had to switch free call-forwarding services just to get one that offers voicemail.
It feels ridiculous and necessary all at once.
Today was good.
Actually—good.
The mill is loud and chaotic and oddly thrilling.
Tim explains that this is the in-between season—prep season.
Mack calls it mud season, says it like a curse and a joke at the same time.
There are repairs happening everywhere. Equipment torn down and rebuilt. Tools laid out, checked, replaced.
March and April, I learn, are for spending money—fixing what winter broke and preparing for what summer demands.
The men are out clearing drainage ditches, repairing access roads, prepping landings so they can get heavy equipment in once logging starts up again in July and August.
Then fall comes, and it’s cutting and hauling and stacking logs for winter inventory.
It’s a cycle. A rhythm.
I probably butchered half of the explanation in my head, but the way the guys talk about it—the mountain, the seasons, the work—it sounds almost magical.
Like the land and the people are in conversation with each other.
And I hate that my time here is temporary.
Because the truth is—I like it here.
I’m enjoying myself. My job.
More than I expected to.
More than feels entirely safe, if I’m being honest.
Enjoyment used to come with conditions.
