Page 38 of Entangled in the Woods
Maybe it was because it was late and I was tired, but I lost it. “I think you’ve done enough. Do you know how long it took me to save this tree the first time? Gavrill gave his blood to the tree, for god’s sake.”
I scooped more ferociously, flinging dirt behind me like a dog digging a hole for its bone. Once the hole was deep enough, I tipped the tree back vertically, settling the roots back in the soil. The tree tipped, still unstable as I brushed dirt from in the hole.“Damnit!” I held the tree with upright with one hand and used the other to drag the surrounding dirt toward the trunk.
Everett’s large hands, like bulldozers, pushed piles of dirt into the hole, filling it quickly. I kneeled there holding the tree up while he worked.
“Let me help you,” his voice was calm, opposite of how I was feeling.
“It lost a lot of bark underneath your shoe.”
“What can we do?”
“Well,Ican do a technique called bridge grafting to help regrow the bark,” I said. “It might not be enough to save it, but it’s worth a shot.”
Examining the mulberry, I picked a branch from its foliage that looked healthy and had a thick diameter. I snapped the branch off, laying it gently on the ground by my feet. The bridge grafting technique was difficult and not always successful. I had only done it one other time to a maple tree, and it had failed. The technique was just as it sounded—creating a bridge with a branch of the same tree from the top to the bottom of the area of the tree that was exposed. The hope was that the tree would use the branch to grow bark along the “bridge” covering the exposed part of the tree.
I needed to create two notches in the healthy bark for both sides of the bridge to sit. The backpack I had with me didn’t have any of the tools I needed for this complicated procedure. My eyes scanned the surrounding woods, looking for something strong and pointy enough to make the notch.
“Let me help you.” Those four words again came from Everett’s lips.
I looked down at the poor sapling and at my hands, covered in dirt, then at Everett’s eyes. He seemed sincere, like he actually wanted to help me.
“Can you use your…” I made a claw motion with my hand.
“Claws? Sure I can.” Everett flexed his hand, a long, sharp black claw extending from each of his five fingers.
“You just need one.” I held up my finger. Everett did the same, all the claws retracting except the one on his right index finger.
I showed him where to carve the two notches and warned him not to go too deep into the sapwood. He stood right next to me, our bodies almost touching. He hadn’t cleaned up since coming back from hunting, but he still smelled the same—fresh and clean, like the first day of spring. I breathed in his scent, letting it settle in my lungs.
Everett was careful with his carving. If I was less annoyed with him, I might have told him he had a future in conservation. Instead I just extended the branch to Everett, explaining that he needed to cut a wedge into each end. I held the branch while he wrapped with his non-clawed hand around my wrist, keeping me steady. My arm stopped trembling as he did so. Had I been shaking?
His sharp claw made quick work of the cuts, diagonally cutting each end. I took a breath in as I watched him let go of my wrist, my skin now cold. He stared down at me intensely. My breath caught in my throat as he traced the top of my cheekbone, following it all the way to my mouth. His fingers lingered on my bottom lip, slowly outlining it. I couldn’t look away from his swirling eyes, and I felt the thread again, pulling me in.
I tugged against the thread, unwilling to let it reel me in. “Now we need to insert it into the notches you made,” I said.
I turned away from Everett, leaving his hand floating in the air where my face had been. My backpack had many odds and ends in it that I randomly needed in the field, and I knew I had push pins in there somewhere.
Finding them quickly, I crouched down next to the mulberry. This tree had been through a lot in the past few days. I insertedthe wedged ends of the branch into the notches Everett had created. It fit perfectly, bending the branch into a slight bow shape, like an actual bridge. I pinned each end of the branch into the tree to keep it in place. Hopefully in a few weeks, there would be new bark growth and the tree would survive.
As I backed away from the tree, I turned around to find Everett right behind me. Instinctively, I put my hands on his chest, separating our bodies. I could see the tiny white lines that crossed his neck like tally marks. His neck was scarred like the tree we’d just saved.
“Thank you for saving the tree.” Everett didn’t have to speak loudly. Our bodies were so close.
“Well, that’s my job.” I tried to act unaffected by his kind words, but it was becoming hard, my body responding to his. I didn’t want to pull away.
“I can tell you really care for the forest like I do.”
“Of course I do—that’s why I’m here,” I said, replying automatically, my gaze finding where his tattoos peeked out of the top of his crew neck T-shirt. They looked tribal style with thick swirls and loops.
“I think you’re here for more than that.”
I watched his neck as he spoke, his skin vibrating with the deep tone of his voice. My hand reached out to trace what I could of the tattoos along his neck. I had wanted to touch them since Thursday night at the bar.
As soon as my fingers contacted his skin, everything around us became fuzzy. My ears could no longer hear anything except our joint breathing and the increasing heartbeat in my chest. I moved slowly along the dark tattoo, casually dipping my fingers under his shirt before I found a new swirl to follow. He was warm and his skin was soft. I was close enough to his heart that I could feel the strong beat.
Everett’s finger caught under my chin, bringing my face up to meet his. His dark pupils dilated in stark contrast to the gold irises that surrounded them. The thread pulled tighter, and I leaned into him, my hand now resting flat against his firm chest.
He groaned before he crashed his lips into mine. I opened my mouth immediately, ready for his tongue. His hand found his way behind my head to brace my neck for his rough kiss. I draped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling our bodies closer together. His kisses were like a drug. They had me needy and unable to quit. It was amazing how well our bodies meshed now that they were fully touching. Our size difference made no difference in our ability to fit together. My hips fit snuggly between his thighs, and my breasts found comfort right under his pectoral muscles.
