Page 64 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
“Going to chop something with this.” I lift my axe, clenched tightly in my right fist, not bothering to slow down on his account. “Maybe a lot of somethings.”
He raises a reddish brow at me. “We don’t have to do that by hand anymore, you know.”
I scowl at him. “I know…” But after my conversation with Willow this morning, I’m antsy, unable to concentrate on anything in the office, or any of the projects I’m supposed to be monitoring today, before I disappear tomorrow out on another hike for answers. “I just need to work off some tension.”
A corner of Liam’s lips twitches. “This have anything to do with me seeing you come out of the bedroom where Willow was sleeping this morning?”
My footsteps falter slightly, but I manage to catch myself before I do something stupid like fall over onto my axe. “What were you doing in the house that early?”
He smirks, his green eyes glittering mischievously. “I stopped by the diner last night. Snagged some of those bear claws Willow likes so much. I thought she might want one for breakfast.”
I was so rattled by realizing I had fallen asleep with her in my arms last night after the final time I went in to comfort her through a nightmare, that I didn’t even bother stopping in the kitchen for my typical cup of coffee and bite to eat. I just bee-lined for the door and high-tailed it out onto the property to do exactly what I’m on my way to do right now: some manual labor designed to rip my hands open and work out some of this constant buzzing that’s vibrated through my system since she returned.
Liam continues to keep pace with me, clearly not intending to drop the line of questioning. “I saw you leave.”
“Where were you?”
He snorts and grins. “Still in the kitchen. You looked pretty fucking determined to get away, so I didn’t stop you.”
Jesus Christ.
I scrub my free palm over my beard as we reach the log pile. Of course, Liam’s right. We have machines that can do this. Plenty of employees who would do it by hand if necessary for any reason, to make the job go quickly.
But quick and easy isn’t what I want right now.
It isn’t what I need.
I grip my axe tightly and set a log up on the massive stump that’s been here so long that Dad would’ve used it, too, maybe even my grandfather. “You might want to step back.”
Liam doesn’t deserve the warning with the way he’s ribbing me, but he grins and holds up his hand, retreating a few steps so the pieces of wood that fly free won’t hit him.
He crosses his arms over his chest and watches me as I swing the axe and slam it down.
One piece flies to the left, the other coming to rest mere inches in front of Liam—which means it definitely would have hit him had he not moved.
I point my axe at him. “I wish that would’ve hit you.”
He smirks again and shrugs. “If you didn’t want me in your cabin, you shouldn’t have left it unlocked.”
“I didn’t.” I’ve been locking it every single night before I go to bed to ensure Willow feels safe, even though I’m confident the homestead is. “You must have used your key.”
Another nonchalant lift and fall of his shoulders. “Shouldn’t have given me a key, then.”
“Fucking smartass.”
I shake my head, set up another log, and send it flying.
The familiar motion comes as easily as breathing.
Muscle memory I don’t even have to think about.
Just do.
After so many years, felling trees by hand around the property and up into the mountains to help clear paths to get our machinery up to do more of the major logging operations, I could do it with my eyes closed.
I could do it asleep, the same way Willow can with her candles or bee tending at this point. Only, I destroy things while she creates them.
Two sides of a very different coin.
