“So I get to watch you this afternoon?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled, and he returned it.
He turned back to face the lake, and let out a long sigh. “I guess we should move on.”
“We can stay another minute if you want,” I said.
He shook his head. “I can sit up here for hours. Better to get going before I grow roots.”
I laughed. “Can’t say I blame you.” I stood and offered him a hand.
He studied me for several seconds, then accepted my help.
“The next tree is this way,” he said as he took a different direction from the clearing.
“Ok.”
The clearing disappeared behind us as we moved between the trees—the moment of connection along with it.
But I had something to look forward to as I measured the next tree. Randy was going to let me watch him work.
Chapter 15 - Randy
My thoughts swirled as Craig and I walked back down toward my cabin. I’d invited him to the clearing, though I had no idea why.
Was it my way of apologizing to him for earlier—when I’d shut him out?
Even Jim—who’d been out to measure my trees many times—had never been in the clearing. There were plenty of places to take a rest in the shade and sit.
As if that wasn’t enough, now Craig was about to watch me work.
Again, though, it was something I’d done to myself. I could have refused or planned a day in the future. And a small part of me said that I should ask to reschedule.
But the rest of me wanted him there. The attention felt good, and I’d started to crave it.
I knew better, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Pen,” I ordered Russy as my cabin came into view.
He trotted over and sat next to the gate for his pen—waiting for me to let him in.
“He’s pretty well trained,” Craig said as we stopped beside it.
I chuckled. “Yeah. He’s a good boy.”
“Does he spend all day in the pen?” Craig asked as we turned to my workshop.
“Depends,” I replied. “He’s good, but he’s a herding breed. If I’m not giving him a task, he wants to find one for himself. That’s fine when I can keep an ear out for whatever he might be trying to get into. But for his safety—and mine—I always have him in the pen when I’m working. Shops aren’t exactly dog-safe, and if he was there distracting me, I could get hurt.”
I paused and smiled. “He gets plenty of quality time, though. And his pen… run… whatever you want to call it, is big enough for him to get a lot of his energy out.”
“He sleeps inside, though. Right?” Craig asked as we started moving again.
I chuckled. “Of course. He’s got several beds. One downstairs near the woodstove, and another up in my bedroom. He’s not allowed on my bed, but the couch is ok… provided he’s not filthy.”
Craig laughed. “How do you enforce that?”
