Whatever.
I bite my lip, staring at Kaleb’s back. He’d probably say the same. Or worse, not say anything at all—just look away.
The saw quiets suddenly. Kaleb steps back, wiping his forehead with the back of his glove. He’s stripped most of the branches now. The tree looks naked, vulnerable. He glances my way—first time since he let me stay—and shouts over the quiet hum of the forest.
“Tree’s set! Stay put. Gonna fall that way.” He points to a cleared path downhill, away from us.
My heart jumps. “Okay!”
Kaleb doesn’t smile, just nods and turns back. He sinks the saw into the base—careful notches, then a deep back cut. Wood groans like an old door. He wedges something in, taps it with a maul. The tree shudders.
Then…CRAAAAAAAACK.
It leans, slow at first, like it’s deciding. Then faster. The trunk splits the air with a whoosh, branches whipping, and it crashes down in a thunder of earth and needles. Dust billows up, birds scatter screeching.
I’m on my feet without thinking, mouth open. “Whoa! That’s so cool!”
Kaleb stands there, hands on hips, watching it settle. Command. Control. My big strong fantasy Daddy owned that moment.
Inspiring doesn’t even cover it.
The cleanup takes longer than I expected. Kaleb sections the trunk into manageable logs, stacking them with this effortless strength that makes my stomach flutter. Racer helps by… well, mostly by chasing squirrels and barking at nothing.
I stay out of the way, scribbling more notes, but my eyes keep drifting back to him.
Finally, Kaleb kills the saw for good, packs his gear, and walks over. Sweat darkens his t-shirt in patches, and up close, he smells like wood and effort. It’s earthy, intoxicating, and kinda nice in a funny way.
“Done,” he says, voice gruff. “You get what you needed?”
I nod quickly, stuffing my notebook into my backpack. “Yeah, tons. Thank you. That was… amazing.”
Kaleb grunts, eyes flicking to my bag as I zip it. Something orange peeks out—Lightening’s ear. I shove it down, but too late. Kaleb’s brow arches.
“That a fox?”
Heat floods my face. “Um… yeah. Lightening. He’s my… stuffie.” God, why did I say that? He’s gonna think I’m a weirdo. A grown man carrying a stuffed animal on a hike?
But Kaleb just nods, no judgment. Maybe a hint of something softer in his eyes.
“Nice,” Kaleb says. “We don’t get many foxes around here. But I’m a fan.”
I blush harder, slinging the bag over my shoulder. “Cool. Thanks again. I’ll head back.”
He glances at the sky—sun’s climbing, but the trail’s long. “Want a lift into town? Truck’s not far. Which of course you’d know seeing as you probably walked past it, along with all the signs, right?”
My pulse skips. “Hehe. Really? That’d be great.”
Kaleb jerks his head. “This way.”
We hike a short path to where his truck’s parked—a beat-up blue pickup with mud splatters and a toolbox in the bed. Racer jumps into the back like it’s routine. Kaleb opens the passenger door for me, then offers a hand up the high step.
His palm’s rough, warm, engulfing mine. A tingle shoots up my arm, straight to my core. I haul myself in, hoping he doesn’t notice how my breath catches.
“Thanks,” I murmur, buckling up.
He nods, circles to the driver’s side, and fires up the engine. It rumbles to life, and he cranks the radio. Classic rock blasting, guitars wailing. It’s not my usual go to listen, but in this context I’m all there for it.
Racer barks from the back, tail thumping against the cab window like he’s singing along. Kaleb chuckles—a low, rare sound that makes my toes curl.