Except it was already feeling like everything more.
9
ZACK
“Have a great day at work,” Ford singsonged as I walked out the door.
“I’m spending some time in the den today because Asher needs my help with a new project.”
The smile on Ford’s face sagged for a second, and I wondered what he could have against me going to my den and being with my good friend. But he recovered and replaced it with his usual dazzling grin.
I drove into town and beyond to the den. Spending time with Asher was always enjoyable because I admired how he’d overcome his tragic history. His mate, Weston, was human, and they’d gotten past their differences, mated, and they now had a child.
But I wasn’t on den land to discuss that. Asher and his den mates ran a successful fish-drying business, but they were looking to expand and build a bigger, more sophisticated facility, while using their traditional den practices. And I’d been instructed that they wanted it as environmentally friendly as possible.
It was a lot, but I was up to the task, having lived in the den and the area all my life.
Asher greeted me with a hug, and he invited me into the dining hall for tea. But I was eager to get to work but understood den etiquette of welcoming a visitor with refreshments before talking business. Besides, sitting with a friend and chatting about life and recent events took my mind to one place. Ford and his dragon.
Even if I mentioned him to Asher, would my friend believe my fated mate was a dragon? That was a stretch, even for a polar bear shifter who’d been adopted and raised by wolves.
We walked over the grass, made lush by the spring rains, to the existing facility, and Asher pushed open the main door. The current setup was a low timber-framed building with racks running wall to wall in parallel rows.
Fish sat on every horizontal surface. They’d been split and cleaned, and the sharp smell made my eyes water until I adjusted to it because I’d grown up around this strong smell. My bear was inhaling what he called the tantalizing aroma, and I reminded him Asher always gave me fish when I visited.
I bet Ford’s dragon would hate the smell in here. My bear prided himself on not feeling nauseated by stinky fish.
I told him of a country I’d read about where rotten shark meat was a delicacy.
Take me there, he insisted, but I shushed him because Asher was talking.
“We're running out of space,” Asher continued. “We had fourteen people working here last summer. This year we'reexpecting closer to twenty, and we've already got more buyers lined up which will double the volume.”
My first thought was about Ford. If his current job didn’t work out, maybe he could work for Asher, though the other polar bear shifters might object to a fire-breather in their midst.
I walked the length of the room with one hand trailing along the edge of an empty rack. The building was forty feet long. The place had good bones—I knew because I’d helped build it—but the ventilation was the problem.
The small windows at either end were propped open, but there was no ridge vent. In a warm, humid summer, that would cost drying time and product quality.
“You’re mainly working with arctic char, aren’t you? Or have you changed to whitefish?”
“Yes, char. As you know, we salt-brine them first, and they hang for five to eight days depending on the weather.” Asher leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “The problem isn't just space. It's dependent on the weather. If it's cloudy and humid for three days straight, we slow down, and we've had batches go bad.”
I was already sketching the new facility out in my head, including the orientation. “You want the new structure facing south. Let the long summer do as much of the work as possible.”
“That's what I figured.”
We strolled toward the meeting hall, and I explained the ridge vent would run the full length of the roof.Cool air would come in low through vented side panels, and the warm air would rise andexit at the ridge. “Keeps the fish drying even on overcast days as long as there's any warmth at all.”
I’d done a grain-drying barn last year using the same principle.
How I wished my relationship problems were as easy to fix as Asher’s new building.
Weston greeted us and invited me to stay for lunch. In the afternoon, I’d have to walk the site, take measurements, and check the drainage, so it made sense to eat here. Besides, I wasn’t going to refuse den hospitality in the hope of skedaddling into town and catching a glimpse of Ford on his lunch break.
“So how’s the single life?” Asher was serving me rice and didn’t catch my eye.
Of course he’s heard about the bingo night and me and Ford buying groceries and being seen around town together.
