Page 189 of One More Kiss

Chapter2

Johnny

Crack!

The wood split as I dropped the sledgehammer down on the wedge in the middle of the huge round section of oak. I had a lot to get through before the bad weather next week. The forecast predicted heavy rains and it was starting to cool off. It was best to get it all split before then, in case the rain lingered. The cabins all had renters scheduled to be here the next few weeks. I worried that one canceled just a week before coming but it was quickly booked again.

“Hey, go ahead and back that trailer up, son.” Danny fired up the truck and carefully backed it down so we could load up the split wood and deliver it to the cabins. He was such a good kid. I got lucky with him, even though things with his mom weren’t so lucky. He didn’t want to leave me to tend to the land and the cabins alone, so he was doing college courses online. I would have been fine and tried to talk him out of it, but he was thriving with those classes since he started, and he even signed up for summer session to get ahead of it all.

The shaggy-headed brunette jumped from the diesel truck, whipping his head to get the wavy hair out of his blue eyes. “Too bad the log splitter is down. Did Drew say when he’d get it working again?” Danny asked as he started loading up wood.

“He hoped to have it ready this weekend, but I needed to split what I could before the storms roll in. Could have a cold front,” I answered as I helped stack wood on the trailer. It was still in the sixties this week so we both wore short sleeves.

The motor stopped working on the splitter that helped make quick and easy work of the pile of wood we had. I drove it to town last Friday and dropped it with the only mechanic in a fifty-mile radius. Drew was a good guy and would get it working soon, but that left us splitting it ourselves for the time being.

“It’ll be fine, Dad. Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.”

“Well, I don’t want to give these women any excuse to call me out to their cabins.”

Danny chuckled. “Oh please, you love it.” He fanned himself and batted his eyes. With a high-pitched voice he said, “Excuse me Hottie McHotterson, can I hold your wood please?”

“Would you stop?” I shook my head at his joke. For some reason, a wave of single women had been renting cabins from me for months. We were well off the beaten path and up the mountain. It’s nearly twenty-five miles to the nearest town for Betty’s Grocery, which was mostly basics, not a real grocery store. “It is odd. We haven’t had any couples or men up this way for a while. Just these single ladies.”

“Probably trying to get away from their husbands and kids.”

“There’s resorts with girly stuff all over the place.”

“We do have hot tubs. Chicks dig hot tubs. They also seem to dig that salt and pepper beard you got going on.”

I waved him off and we went back to loading the trailer. The hot tubs definitely helped as a selling point. I just had them installed two years ago and we went from sporadic hunters needing a warm place to stay, to staying full of couples most weekends. It was a great investment that paid off in spades.

I didn’t have my picture on the website, so I doubt the bookings had anything to do with my hair or beard. Still, it was curious. I shrugged it off and finished loading the trailer and hopped in the truck, Danny not far behind, climbing into the passenger side.

We drove to the three rentals to leave wood at each one and popped in to be sure no vermin had gotten inside. We already stripped the beds and replaced the linens with the clean ones when we went by Monday.

Danny had been harping on me to get a cleaning service, but I didn’t imagine many would travel up the mountain so far, at least not without a hefty fee. Most of the folks that stayed kept the cabins clean and followed the instructions we had taped to the fridge. We’d come in and change the bedding, disinfect the kitchen and bathrooms, make sure nothing was left in the fridge, and restock towels and toiletries, dust, and clean the floors. It didn’t take much time at all if I did it alone, although Danny usually insisted on helping. I wanted him to focus on school, but he said he could do it whenever since it’s all online. Everything was online now. I miss the days of picking up a phone or meeting folks at a diner for coffee. I do not, however, miss bars.

“Hey, Dad, check this out,” Danny said as he stood by the fridge. I craned my neck from the living room where I was running the vacuum over the floor and area rug. “Someone left some food in the freezer.”

I put the handle upright and turned off the vacuum. Looking over his shoulder I saw the freezer full of steaks, chicken, and packs of different vegetables. “Son, I thought you cleaned everything out when we were by Monday?”

Danny shrugged. “I cleaned out the fridge, but I didn’t check the freezer. I’m sorry. I only noticed now because I wanted some ice.” The fridge had an ice machine in the door, but this one wasn’t working, and I hadn’t gotten around to fixing it, so there was a note on the fridge to open it for ice. The water worked fine, but the motor for the ice seemed to be broken and the only repairman that would come this far up wasn’t scheduled to be out for two more weeks.

“Well, it’s fine, son. We still have two other stops and no cooler. I guess just leave it. If we get time to run back down before the weekend, we can grab it. Otherwise, someone just got really lucky.”

We finished up there then moved on to the other two cabins, being sure to check everywhere and clean up, then left the wood. “I have some calls most of the day tomorrow and I’m beat. Let’s head up to the house and eat so I can pass out.”

Danny nodded in agreement. “Splitting that wood was a pain in the ass. I’m so tired I could pass out now, but I better eat a bite before bed.”

We headed home and Danny slinked from the truck. As soon as his feet hit the gravel, Tiny came bounding from the back of the cabin. He was a St. Bernard and 190 pounds of fur and puppy, even though he was three years old. We got him thinking he’d be a good breed for the mountains, and they were “working” dogs, but all he worked on was eating and laying around.

It was twilight, and the automatic lights on the covered porch were on. A large pile of wood was stacked on the side of the cabin under a small overhang to keep it dry. We dragged our feet to the porch and Danny took off inside, but I turned around for a moment to take in the sight. Nothing quite like watching the sun disappear behind the trees that covered the mountain. I took in a deep breath, almost like I was breathing in the sight, but it had a distinct scent. The forecast said there wouldn’t be rain until next week, but it sure did smell like a storm was coming in.

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