I stare at all of his hard work.
Endless hours of manual labor it’s taken for him to build the foundation.
The work to hike up here with these tools and supplies.
With no one to help him.
Because he doesn’t want it.
He knows his brothers would fight him tooth and nail if they knew what he was doing up here, what his plans were, and the McBrides don’t back down from a fight, which would put them at odds with each other.
I walk over to the site of his new cabin and run my hands over one of the beams he’s already prepared, all the rough bark removed and thrown into the stove for kindling, the smooth surface now ready to interlock with other logs to build the structure he has so perfectly envisioned here.
If they don’t stop him.
If I don’t stop him.
Someone has to convince him that he doesn’t belong here, that he needs his family and friends around him, not to isolate himself even more.
But that’s a fight for another day.
Now, I just need to bide my time until he gets back.
I turn and make my way down the path toward the river and find that, even after getting up before the sun, he still came down here and hauled fresh water up to the bathtub. He still lit the fire beneath it to ensure I could take a hot bath if I wanted to without having to submerge myself in the freezing river waters.
Goddamn you Connor McBride…
The flames have burned down to little more than embers at this point. I could throw on some of the kindling and logs that he left nearby, but I’m not ready to sink into that warm water and have to think about the time we’ve been in there together.
Somehow, having that man’s huge body crammed into that tiny tub with me became a guilty pleasure I’m truly going to miss when I head back to civilization.
And I don’t want to get in alone now.
I move toward the river instead.
My system needs a shock today. Something that’s going to help wake me from this fog of worry and self-doubt I’ve had the entire time I’ve been working on this project that has only grown since completing it.
“What if I fucked it up?”
That uncertainty threatens to choke me as my question floats out over the water.
Almost as if in response, one of the eagles that lives along the river soars from the top of one of the trees, out over the crystal surface.
It’s breathtakingly beautiful.
Another reason I can see why he loves it up here.
Everything is so free. So untainted.
I roll up my jeans, toe off my boots, pull off my socks, and slowly wade into the water until it’s lapping just below the fabric.
It’s cold.
Just as the air is starting to cool with fall coming quickly.
Is he really going to stay up here in the winter?
With the blustering winds and the snow so deep he won’t be able to walk through it?
