“It works, but it’s more labor intensive for less work.” He showed her where to set the post and where to hold it. “It’s going to vibrate, but it won’t hurt you.”
“I trust you.” She widened her stance and shifted so her face wasn’t right up next to the post.
He set the post driver over the top, raised it, and banged it down.
Reverberations rattled up her arms. She chattered her teeth and laughed. “That’s kind of fun.”
He did it again, and a full laugh rolled out when she stuck out her tongue at him. “You’re the only person who’s ever thought this was funny.”
“Work shouldn’t always be boring.” It came from a deep well of inspiration. “If you can make the job enjoyable, why not?” Another bone-rattling shiver raced down her spine.
Chase finished the post and moved on to the next one.
She hurried to catch up. “I think that’s one thing that’s frustrated me. When I think about my job, I can’t see how I enjoyed it. I must have, since I spent over ten years there. But why?” The few hours she’d sat at her desk in the chrome and glass building, all she’d felt was stifled by the lack of creativity and the monotonous march of numbers on her page. She understood the mathematics behind her job, and maybe she’d enjoyed being an executive. Looking at her schedule and seeing the list of meetings, hiring and firing of employees, and all the mundane tasks needing to be checked off the planner, drove her from the building and she had no incentive to return.
Why live in that small, cramped space when she could have all this? It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought, but it was the first time she fully entertained the notion of never leaving Blue River.
“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?” Chase asked the question while his back was to her, which muffled his words as the wind kicked up.
“Anything?” She tried to pick up the post driver but staggered under the weight.
Chase turned, catching both her and the hunk of metal before it sent her tipping sideways. “Anything.”
His breath feathered over her cheek, and the press of his hand in the small of her back caused a whole new kind of shiver. “I don’t know. It’s like asking about ice cream. How can I choose when I don’t know my options?”
“You have all the options.” He took the post driver and dropped it into the bed of the truck, carrying it with one hand like it weighed nothing. “Do you want to try every job in the world before you decide?”
“Nah. That would take too long. And a bunch of them require a degree.” She took her time picking up a single strand of barbed wire and walking it back to the post.
Chase joined her there and helped twist a new strand over top of the old one.
She left him to finish that strand and went back for the next. “I like what I’m doing here. This is fun, and every day is different, even if it’s the same. I always wonder what else is out there, though. How can I know I’ll be happy in one place?”
“Stay and find out.” The casual way he spoke contradicted the way he yanked the wire together so savagely it tore through his gloves. He pushed back from the fence and jerked off both gloves, muttering beneath his breath.
Not curses. She’d been around him long enough to know he didn’t curse. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He stalked to the truck, rifled around in the toolbox, and came back with another pair of gloves. “Go back to what you were saying.”
“I feel at home here, and it’s frustrating not knowing if I’ve felt that before.” She held the wire in place, trying to watch him at the same time. “My six months of memories are full of loneliness. I’ve gone through everything, and nothing about my life in the city made me happy.”
“Maybe you were happy earlier, and something happened. A bad break up?” Again, the soft tone butted hard against the tight pop of muscle in his jaw.
“I don’t think so.” A breeze stirred her hair on the back of her neck and ruffled the edges of Chase’s beneath his hat. “Even if I had been in a relationship and it ended…” She trailed off and reconsidered. “Well. I guess I’d have deleted all the pictures of us from my phone and maybe purged the apartment of his presence.” A deep, hollow ache engulfed her. “But I don’t think that’s it.”
His hands settled on her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” She started to shrug him off, but the heat of his almost embrace swaddled her up. When was the last time she’dfelt this treasured and cared for? “How do I move forward knowing I might never get my memory back?”
“One day at a time.” He tipped her chin up. “I’m not trying to be annoying. Maybe you never regain your memories. You can still have a full life. You said it yourself; you like it here. Even if you did leave, you can find other places where life is fun and gives you all that you want.”
“You’re the first person who hasn’t offered me a platitude or promised that everything will be okay.” The knot in her stomach eased a fraction. “This morning, a woman met me on the street, tutted over mypredicamentand patted me on the arm while telling me that everything would be all right. How do I know it will be all right?”
“You don’t. None of us do. No one is promised easy. Pretty sure we’re all guaranteed to have some part of our life that is awful.” The wry tone helped her keep focused on the words and the impact they had on her heart.
He spoke from his own grief, and once again she mentally kicked herself for being insensitive. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.” She hugged him tight. “I’m always going on and on about my problems and never asking about yours. I’ll do better.” She squeezed his ribs, and he patted her back. “Any problems you want to complain about?”
“The price of cattle is too low and hay’s too high.” He chuckled and tickled the back of her neck with his gloved fingers. “I like that you’re comfortable talking to me. It’s nice.”
