Her curiosity was infectious. I wanted to know more about what she did, how she saw things. I wanted to answer all her questions and show her all the things I knew. Conversation was normally a chore for me. With her, it felt natural.
I shifted my weight to ease the pressure on my back and paid for it immediately, a sharp pulse shooting down my leg. I bit it back, keeping my face neutral. No way was I limping in front of her if I could help it.
Rachel straightened slowly, brushing dirt from her fingers. “Interesting how easily you can see all the factors that affect a forest. Holes from bug infestation, scarring from fire, interference by humans.”
I stopped walking. Not because my back demanded it this time, but because I hadn’t expected to find so much we agreed on.
She noticed immediately. “What?”
“Not a lot of people find wandering around staring at the trees as fascinating as I do.”
She shrugged, but there was a flicker of uncertainty there too. “I dedicated my life to this, same as you. But I was the kid who always had their nose in a book. I assume you were the little boy who always ran off to play in the forest.”
I snorted. “Drove my grandmother crazy. Broke my arm falling out of a tree when I was five.”
“That sounds exactly right.” A breeze sent a strand of her hair whipping over her face, and I ached to push it behind her ear.
We stared at each other for a moment, and all I could see were the similarities in the two of us, every difference forgotten. Sure, my truck was full of tools and she had a bag full of notebooks, but we were cut from the same cloth.
I was still a stubborn, grumpy man. Set in my ways and not likely to change them.
There was no way the interest in her eye went beyond forestry, could it?
We started walking again, closer now without either of us acknowledging it.
My back twinged, sharper this time. I sucked in a breath before I could stop myself.
Rachel glanced over. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said automatically.
She didn’t argue, but her pace slowed.
Bits of sunlight cut through the canopy, and I focused on the feel of the sun on my face, trying desperately to ignore how the ache in my back intensified every time I lifted my leg to take a step.
Finally, the truck came into view, and I picked up my pace.
Bad move.
Suddenly, my back screamed hard enough that I couldn’t take another step. I braced my palm on a tree, feeling the bark bite into my palm. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited for the intensity of it to calm.
I felt rather than saw Rachel at my side. Her hand came to rest against my lower back, and the heat seeping into my skin felt good. She didn’t say anything. I probably would have shrugged her off if she had. I hated feeling like I couldn’t do something I should be able to, and I despised pity.
Her hand moved in slow circles, her touch feeling better than it had any right to. All I could smell was her skin. It was dizzying in a way that had nothing to do with my back.
“You don’t have to push through it,” she said quietly.
I exhaled through my teeth. “I’m not used to slowing down.”
“Maybe you can slow down just for a little while. I’m the only one here to see it, and I’m not judging you.”
Despite forty years of fighting exactly that, I believed her.
Chapter Four
Rachel
It hadn’t been the most productive afternoon in terms of our project, but it had gotten us on the same page. It had also gotten me thinking about things I shouldn’t have been thinking about. The weather had been mild, the sun bright, and Brody and I had been getting along. It had been an awesome day.
