CHAPTER 15
Caleb pulledinto the Whitmore property a little before eight, the sun barely clearing the treetops. Ranger shoved his nose against the window as if the field and pond were the most exciting places on earth.
He stepped out of the truck, the dog close behind. Dew still clung to the grass. He took a deep breath, inhaling the damp earth and pine. Mornings like this usually settled him. The early light, the honest work, everything where he could see it. Instead, the quiet felt watchful.
A delivery truck rumbled up the drive behind him and came to a stop. Two men hopped out, both younger, both built, both recommended by Finn. One of these days, he’d put together his own crew, but for now he took the help he could get.
“Morning!” he called out.
“Morning,” the taller one replied. “Picked up your lumber order. Want it stacked near the foundation lines?”
“Yeah, that’d be good.”
They unloaded, stacking two-by-sixes, posts, joists and plywood sheets on the ground quickly with no drama. Caleb pulled out the plans and crouched near the staked outline. The foundation was prepped. Today, they were finally framing.
When he finished, he walked over to help unload. The sound of gravel crunching drew his attention. Roy’s old truck rolled in and parked. The man climbed out slower than normal, jaw tight. Shoulders hunched, like he’d already decided the day wasn’t going his way.
Caleb straightened. “Morning.”
Roy gave a half nod that might have been a greeting. His eyes darted from the lumber stack to the crew, then to Caleb.
“So we’re starting today, huh?”
“That’s the plan.”
Roy shifted his weight. “Didn’t realize you needed me this early.”
Caleb shrugged. “It’s a good day to get the post anchors set. Thought you could help with that.”
Roy didn’t love that answer, but he didn’t argue either. “Yeah. Sure.”
Caleb motioned toward a bucket. “Grab those anchors, and we’ll start on the corners.”
Roy blew out his breath and grabbed a bucket of anchors. “Just want to make sure I know what you want. You calling the shots or…?”
“Yeah,” he said calmly. “It’ll go faster that way.”
The two new guys watched from the lumber pile, pretending not to.
Roy blew out his breath—frustrated, not hostile. “All right.”
Good God, why did the man ever ask to help build the barn if he was just going to give him grief? Caleb bit his tongue. What he really wanted to do was send Roy home. Arguing or explaining everything that had to be done would take them twice as long to build the barn. And he didn’t trust Roy’s mood today. Not fully.
Caleb crouched and pointed along the foundation. “We’ll set the corners first. Make sure the lines are true. You take that string line and run it east to west. Sun’s better that direction.”
Roy didn’t argue, just took the line and stretched it out, squinting toward the rising light.
Caleb measured the first anchor point, checked the level and signaled Roy. “Hold it steady.”
“I am,” Roy said, not sharply, just tense.
“You’re tilting it a hair.”
Roy leaned in closer. “Hard to see with the glare. Tell me when you’ve got it.”
Caleb adjusted the angle. “Right there.”
“All right.” Roy locked it in place.
