Page 20 of Wood Riddance
I shrugged, searching for the words to formulate a response, but he wasn’t finished.
“For so many years, we lived in Dad’s shadow and under his control. You’re not the only one spinning right now, Finn. We’re all fucked up over this.”
He was right, of course. I was struck with a bolt of white-hot shame at his call-out. I had been so in my head, so obsessed with the impact of Dad’s actions on Merry and on myself, that I’d failed to check in with my brothers. Their careers—hell, their entire lives—had been built around Dad and Hebert Timber. They had even more to lose than I did.
Jude shuffled to the back door to let Ripley out. “Think about it. For so many years, he controlled us. Tried to mold us into what he wanted us to be. Lashed out when we didn’t meet expectations.” He shook his head. “Now, though? We’re free of him.”
I regarded him, and he watched me just as intently as we let those words hang in the air between us. Somewhere within me, the scared eleven-year-old who’d gotten yet another bad report card was letting out a sigh of relief. The eighteen-year-old who’d been screamed at for enrolling in ROTC let his shoulders relax a little. Those versions of me and so many more had borne so much anger and disappointment from him. Maybe Jude was right. Maybe we were free.
But freedom came at a cost. It always did.
And I had a feeling we’d be paying for a long time.
Chapter6
Adele
By the time Monday rolled around, I was calm and ready to face what lay ahead. The weekend had been quiet, as they usually were during the summer. Gagnon Lumber did the majority of its cutting during the winter when the ground was frozen. It made transport easier and minimized damage to the forest floor.
It was one of the advantages of logging in Maine. The ground stayed frozen longer in northern areas like ours, and it froze so thoroughly that we could use heavier equipment. That, of course, meant we could get the jobs done faster. Other regions, where the ground didn’t freeze completely, required lighter equipment and more hours, which cut into profits and efficiency.
We had summer and fall cut sites, too, but the majority of our land was winter cut.
In Maine, spring lingered, even in late June. That meant thaw and water and mud, which was not ideal for cutting or transport or road maintenance. The crews typically spent August and September repairing and upgrading the roads in preparation for the beginning of the season in October.
Our summers were short and, therefore, extremely busy. Along with the summer cutting, we spent the season working on our equipment so that it was all in tip-top shape when the ground froze.
Today, though, had been one of the slower days. Slow days made me even more itchy.
I would be a professional. This was my goddamn shop and my company. His presence may have been unwelcome, but I’d get through it. I always did.
Thankfully when He-Man and I had arrived at the office, he was nowhere to be seen. There was a tan, military-style backpack on the chair in the office/closet I had assigned to him, but there was no other trace of the man.
Good. I could focus.
I updated the board, checked in with Estrella, who was taking apart a front-end loader, and placed an order for a few parts with my supplier. All in all, the day wasn’t a bad one.
But I should have known it wouldn’t last.
I sensed him before I saw him. Mainly because He-Man got out of his memory-foam dog bed and growled. It took a lot to make my sweet baby growl like that, but the spawn of Satan would do it, for sure.
Near the end of the day, the door to the shop slammed, and heavy footsteps sounded on the cement floor. When Finn turned into my office, He-Man pounced, barking and lunging at his legs.
“What the shit?” Finn shouted, jumping back as He-Man reared up and caught his pant leg in his teeth. “What is this thing?”
“He-Man,” I said firmly. “Stop. Come.”
The dog froze and looked over at me, as if to ask why he couldn’t bite the bad man. When I eyed him and pointed to the floor in front of me, he reluctantly backed away, then trotted over and jumped into my lap.
“Good boy,” I said, burying my face in his fur and scratching his ears.
“Um. What the hell was that?”
I looked up. “You’re still here?”
“Yes. What is that thing?” He frowned, looking nonplussed.
I cradled He-Man close. “This is my sweet baby, He-Man. He’s very protective of me. I guess he could sense your evil.”
