Page 19 of Property of the Woodsman

He grins and steps forward. “Then why are you here?”

I glance to the side. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve got a proposition,” he says, leaning up from his truck. “I’m a guy down on a job out in Idaho, on a project I need done for a client by the end of the month.”

“Okay, and why would you think I’d want the job?”

“Word around town is you’re looking for work. You’ve had a hard go of it since you got released and sold your campground to a sheriff up in Whiskey Falls. I’ve got work, so I’m offering you work. It’s a goodwill sort of gesture given the past we’ve had.”

I laugh under my breath. “Nah, I’m good, man. Enjoy your day.” I’ve turned away, but the idiot keeps talking.

“Room and board are covered through the end of the project, and you’re looking at making twenty grand in the next few weeks. You do this for me, and I’ve got another job for you here in town when you get back.”

“Is that right?” I turn back, my fists balled. “I don’t want your fuckin’ job, and I don’t appreciate you showing up here unannounced.”

“Look,” Mike says, adjusting the ball cap he’s wearing, “I get it. You blame me for taking down your business. No one wants to work for that guy, but you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren’t you?” Mike sighs loudly, like he knows he has to change his approach. “You’re one of the best, and I need the help. You don’t have to work for me at all, if you want. We can just call you a private contractor who we subcontract out to, but I’d need you exclusively for a while. We’ve got more work than we can handle.”

He tosses a set of keys toward me, which I instinctively catch. “These unlock your apartment in Idaho and gives you use to the company truck that’s waiting in the parking lot outside the house you’d be renovating. Say yes and I’ll send the plane ticket tonight.”

I laugh under my breath and toss the keys back at him, the sun sinking low into the sky behind. “Get fucked.”

“Great,” he grins and sets the bundle of keys on the rock by the garden bed. “You start tomorrow. I really need this place done, and if you finish early, I’ll toss in a bonus. Should set you up nicely for a while. I know you could use the money.” He climbs up into his truck before I can respond, though I have no intention of touching the keys he’s left behind.

Hell, even in a world where I thought working for the devil was a good idea, I can’t start tomorrow. The wedding is this weekend and there’s no way in hell I’m missing that for anyone or anything. I promised my little bunny I’d stand next to her, and I intend to keep that promise.

I’m turning back toward the house when I see Jen leaned against the porch rail, the orange glow of the sun on her face. “You should take the job.”

“What? You were standing there the whole time?”

She nods toward the camera mounted above the garage. “It’s a good opportunity for you. If you really want the property, you can come back and pay me for it. I don’t need this much space, anyway.”

“No,” I step toward her, “you’re the priority here. Not the land, or the job, or anything else. Just you.”

She laughs under her breath, and I feel the walls coming back again. “I don’t want to be your priority. That’s what you keep missing. I’m lost right now, Atlas. I’m not thinking straight. Hell, I’m screwing an ex-con and eating blackberry pie with him on the floor. I’m letting you order me around and spank my ass. I’m offering you land for one night of making my ex jealous. Clearly, I’ve lost my mind, and I want you to go, for real this time.”

“Jen,” I step toward her and hop up the stairs, my hand on her arm before she can push me away, “you’re not losing it, and I’m right where I want to be, next to you.”

“Yeah,” her voice rises, “for how long? How long before you decide that I’m not good enough, too? How long before you wake up one morning and tell me that you’re leaving me for a twenty-something in a sundress with fresh tits, a bright disposition, and perfectly blonde hair?” Tears roll down her cheeks. “I can’t do it, Atlas, so let’s stop this here and save me six more months of misery while I try and contemplate why I ever trusted a man again to begin with.”

She turns away from me, opens the door, and this time, she slams it shut.

Chapter Eight

Jen

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over? I could bring all the snacks, and we can shit talk men all night long.” Mabel crunches something quietly as she talks. I assume she’s eating Goldfish. That girl could live on little cheese crackers if you let her.

“I appreciate it, but I think I want to be alone for a while. I need to recharge my batteries and figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life. I mean, maybe it was a mistake to buy this place. It’s huge, and even with Jackson, it’s too much space.”

“You bought the property because you love renovations, you love wide open spaces, and wanted inspiration. Why don’t you sink into your book? You used to say the anger gave you something to draw from.”

“I’ve written a little in the last couple of days, not the speed I used to write, but the faucet is open again.”

“See… you can’t move. You’re finally finding inspiration.”

A branch hits the side window in the sunroom where I’m plopped down like a potato. “I don’t think it’s the house.”

“Oh! What do you think it is then?” She’s slowed her speech to a playful mock. “Could it be the handyman sex god who’s been hanging all over you?”