I set her down. “This is good, right?”
“Very. It’ll be huge if we find fish. That will at least solve one crisis.”
Blakely peeks into the river from where she stands. “Should we, uh, go in and find out?”
“Not yet.”
Both sides of these banks are lined by the dense woodlands. There are only a few sections of shoreline with wider access. Being this close to a source of water infuses the air with a clean scent. This is a place where grime is washed away and sullied slates are wiped blank. A deep inhale grants me a lungful of fresh beginnings.
I motion to a larger gap several feet down. “We can settle in over there. I’ll get a fire started first.”
She gives me a curt nod. “Roger that. What can I do?”
My instincts shout that she needs a job, small as it might be. Who am I to go against that gut feeling? “Can you collect sticks and leaves for kindling? Anything dry is best.”
“You got it, boss.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “If anyone is in charge, it’s you. I’ll gladly follow your orders.”
Her brows wag at me. “I’ll be sure to remember that. Now quit distracting me. I’ve got twigs to collect.”
She prances off with the authority of a foreman. While Blakely is occupied with her task, I begin searching for a smooth rock to sharpen the hatchet. The patchy earth in this area is littered with them, so there will never be a shortage. I dunk the flatter side of the nearest one until the slab appears black. After parking my ass on a broken stump, I get busy. The blade glides across the hard surface, setting off a subtle grinding with each swipe.
“What’re you doing?” Blakely’s voice is just beyond my shoulder.
I peer backward to confirm her close proximity, if only for an excuse to stare. “Just a bit of tool maintenance.”
She watches me slide metal over stone for a second. “I’ll say it again, you’re super impressive.”
“I just happen to have a solid foundation of outdoor skills that most tech nerds don’t.”
“So modest.” She dumps a pile of brush scraps beside me.
“Thanks for that. Want to dig the pit?”
Her baby blues sparkle from the bright rays bathing us overhead. “Yes, I can handle that.”
Once the hatchet gleams like new, I stride to a neighboring spruce. Most of the lower boughs are bare and optimal for catching sparks. The blade slices through branches faster than butter. Split, toss, repeat. It takes me less than five minutes to gather enough logs to get a decent flame going. All of my warm layers remain intact since I barely have time to break a sweat.
Blakely has shoveled a deep crater once I’m finished cutting enough to last us for the next several hours. I crouch low and set the tripod with her hovering in my personal space. Slowing down my movements, I follow each step for her to see. Thin tendrils of smoke rise from between brittle bark, feeding off the crispy foliage. Soon enough, the air is thick with the sweetest scent of burning pine needles.
“Not sure I’ll ever get over how fast you do that.”
I turn to grin at her. “You can build the next one.”
Blakely twists her lips to one side. “Not sure about that.”
“I believe in you.”
“You’re just saying that to put us on even ground.”
“I don’t have to make shit up for that to be true. Trust me, Blakely. I’m getting the better end of our deal.” The thought of being trapped out here alone sends a murky cloud over any glimmer of joy we’ve created. A punch of guilt immediately follows. I’d trade anything to have this woman safe in her home.
She squints at me, the growing flames illuminate her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Not sure we’ll ever agree on that. What’s next?”
I step toward the river’s edge with her hot on my heels. “Catching some lunch.”
Blakely’s gaze is tracking the zagging cascade. “Wow, the water is flowing fast.”
“The stream might be flooded, or from a steep slope nearby.”
A set of dimples get aimed my way. “Boy Scouts teach you that?”
I chuckle and rock on my heels. “For once the answer is no. I learned that from living in the country.”
She releases a quiet whistle that’s mostly wind. “Hot damn. Were you a farm kid?”
“My grandparents owned a cattle ranch. The family business is run by my uncles and cousins these days.” A hollow ache kicks up in my chest, but I ignore the misplaced