do that. The situation is over and done with,” she said, giving him an assessing look.
“I wouldn’t want there to be any further misunderstandings,” he said. She looked away from him and felt her phone vibrate. She picked it up and rolled her eyes as she fought back laughter when she looked back up at him. He was holding his phone and grinning.
I’m going to clean up some trees. Want to help?
“I’m right here. I think you can talk to me instead of texting,” she pointed out.
“I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing,” he said. He began texting again and the look she shot him should’ve killed him on the spot. He tossed down his phone and laughed hard.
“Okay, okay, I’ll leave the phone alone for now. Do you want to run a tractor?”
“Run a tractor?” she asked, intrigued enough to lose the last remaining irritation at walking up to the property thinking he’d double crossed her.
“Yep, I have huge dump trailers to load the trees into. Those will be picked up and the wood taken to a location where a Key Club group is waiting to chop it up. They’re using some for a fundraiser, but giving most of it to those who need it.”
“You’re donating the wood?” she asked, now utterly intrigued. He was doing something she would’ve gladly done if she was the one working on the land.
“Yep, I’m learning from the best,” he said. “I did a search online and found this local high school Key Club that does community service. They have a program to stock low-income homes with firewood to help them save energy costs in the winter. There’s so much wood, though, that they’ll sell the rest to raise more funds for the various projects they do during the year.”
“I haven’t heard of them. Did you make sure it’s a legit club?”
“I’ve already checked. They’re part of the Kiwanis program, which has been around for many years, and they’re definitely all about service. We can go see them after we get all of the wood loaded. They do a lot of food projects as well. Most of the kids in these clubs volunteer hundreds of hours a year.”
“I’d love to help,” she said. Then she frowned. “I don’t know how to drive a tractor, though. But there’s nothing I can’t learn if I want to.”
“You’ll love driving a tractor,” he told her as he stood.
“Then let’s do this,” she said, eager to get started.
They approached a huge machine with a cabin and a scoop on the front of it. When she saw all of the levers she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it.
“Are you sure you want me running this thing?” she asked him, making him laugh.
“I have insurance,” he assured her. The grin she shot him probably didn’t fill him with a lot of confidence but he gave her the lesson anyway, pointing out which levers to pull, where the stop and go were, and what all of the other buttons did.
Each thing he showed her caused his hands to brush against her arms, legs, and stomach. By the end of the lesson she was as wound up as she’d been when she’d arrived at the trailer, but this time the tension in her body had nothing to do with anger, and everything to do with pure unadulterated lust. Was she going to do something about that? She wasn’t sure.
Before she could decide what she was going to do, he hopped down from the tractor, then grinned up at her. “Try not to run over my guys. They like having functioning arms and legs,” he told her.
“I’ll do my best,” she assured him with a wave before she put the tractor in gear.
Then she was moving across the land she’d grown up on, scooping up trees and dumping them in huge containers. She had a few mishaps, but she got the hang of it much faster than she would’ve thought possible. As soon as one dump truck was filled, another was put in its place.
They took a quick half hour lunch break, then got back to work. Even with six tractors running, it took eight hours to get all of the trees loaded into about ten containers. There’d been far more wood than she’d imagined possible. And there were still a ton of trees on the property. It was bittersweet to see the land that had been a haven to hide in, much more open now.
It had