Page 90 of Pain in the Axe
At this rate, we’d never get our forecasts and plans set for the winter harvesting season. The more time I spent here, the clearer it became that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. The issues this company was facing were more complex than I had anticipated, and my usual hands-off approach to investments didn’t work when I was the one in charge.
I should have been working today, but instead, I ordered furniture and housewares online. When I moved in, I’d had the bare minimum delivered. I usually didn’t need much, but suddenly, I was feeling the need to nest.
A big desk for my home office, a few rugs, a hammock for Celine’s kids, and throw pillows. Nothing major. I was growing attached to this house. Like Hebert Timber, it was a good investment. That’s why I’d purchased it. But now, I couldn’t stop thinking of paint colors and building a bunk room for Celine’s kids and all kinds of other improvements.
The rain was hitting the lake hard, and thunder shook the house.
My stomach churned as I scanned the shoreline. I was alone here.
It’s fine, Chloe. Pull yourself together. It was just weather, and I needed to buckle down and get some more work done. I’d have to fight the nesting instincts. Otherwise, they would only cause more trouble.
Work. I should be singularly focused on my job. Once I’d gotten through today’s to-do list, I could deal with everything else. I needed to whip it into shape so I could get back to Seattle and then have this baby.
But every time I thought about my place in Seattle, I was swamped with sadness. It didn’t feel like home. It didn’t have the big yard or the dining room for holiday meals or the claw-foot tub that I had fallen in love with.
Logic. It was how I lived my life. I strategized, carefully analyzing every possible outcome, and then I made a plan. For the last two decades, I’d been successful at not letting feelings get in the way.
So why was I so lost right now?
In need of a snack, I headed to the kitchen. Cheese would help. I’d had a moment of panic when I thought I couldn’t eat cheese during pregnancy. Turned out it was only the fancy unpasteurized stuff, and there wasn’t much of that up here anyway.
The local supermarket had plenty of options, so I pulled down a box of Triscuits and shuffled to the fridge for the cheddar.
I was bent over, cheese in hand, when the lights flickered.
Holding my breath, I scanned the room and peered out the windows across the living area. Shit. That was scary.
A large crack of thunder sounded in the distance, the boom so loud I jumped a foot in the air.
With a hand to my chest, I shook my head. What was wrong with me? I was getting all worked up over some rain.
But then the lights went out.
I closed the refrigerator, reached for my phone, and flipped on the flashlight. Panic swirled in my belly. I should be tough. I had flashlights and candles, and this was just a storm. I’d be okay. But with every second that ticked by, my fear grew until it was a dark cloud hovering over me.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I was dialing Gus.
“Dragonfly. You okay?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Shit. I hated how weak I was being. I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I didn’t need to be rescued. “My power went out,” I said, working hard to keep from sounding too hysterical.
“Do you have a generator?”
Shit. I had no idea. The house had come with a damn boat, but I’d never even thought to check for a generator.
My face heated with shame. Thank God he wasn’t here to see me. Admitting to someone like Gus that I wasn’t prepared was beyond embarrassing.
“I don’t know,” I squeaked, frustrated with myself for sounding so meek. “And I’m alone here—”
“I’m on my way.”
My heart squeezed, half-elated and half-afraid. “You don’t have to.”
“Clem and I are already walking out the door. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just sit tight.”
True to his word, his truck rumbled up the driveway a short time later.
The moment I pulled the door open, Clem ran straight in, and Gus wasn’t far behind her.
