Page 74 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

Boone closed the distance. "You drove all the way out here to poke around the dirt under a building that's been standing since before the state had paved roads?"

The inspector cleared his throat, visibly recalibrating his approach. "Regulations, sir."

Regulations. Possibly the least sexy word in the English language.

"You need someone to walk you out there, so you don't get yourself trampled?"

"That would be appreciated."

Boone whistled sharply, his gelding trotting over. "Let's go then."

He really needed this day to be over.

He led the inspector toward the bunkhouse, which sat at the edge of the property like a shithole that had been standing on nothing but rusted nails and spite for the better part of a century. The inspector crouched beside the foundation, poked at the concrete with a metal tool, frowned, and poked again.

“That’s just for a porch. There won’t be any dwelling on that space.”

“Are people going to stand on it?”

“Yes.”

“Then it needs to be sound.” He poked around so much and let out a cluck of the tongue.

Boone crossed his arms and braced himself. "This isn't going to be good news, is it?"

The inspector winced—never a good sign. "Mr. Callahan, the foundation's compromised. You can't add a room to this structure. It won't support the load."

"So, I brace it or simply patch it up."

"No, sir." The inspector stood, brushing off his knees. "It has to be repoured. Total do-over. And until that's done, you can't move forward with any expansion."

Boone felt the heat climb his neck from frustration, not the sun. "How long does that set us back?"

"Depends how fast you can get a crew and then get back on my schedule for another inspection. A couple of weeks at best. More if local crews are busy."

A couple of weeks might as well have been a couple of years with calving rotation coming up. Boone stared at the bunkhouse and said nothing.

"Anything else I should know before I start drinking?" he asked.

The inspector flipped a page on his clipboard. "Yes, actually. Since the foundation hasn’t been updated, I need to check the electricity."

He walked inside, ducking under a low beam. Boone followed, the smell of old wood and dust hitting him in a wave.

The inspector tapped one of the ancient fuse boxes with his pen, then unscrewed the plate covering the wall plug. "The wiring is daisy chained. Probably from when the previous owners did the first expansion.”

“That would have been my great-grandfather.”

“I see. Anyway, the electrical needs to be brought up to code before any remodel continues.”

“So I have to get the foundation done to do the electrical or is it the other way around?”

The inspection clearly didn’t hear the irritation in Boone’s question because he said, “You’ll have to check with the licensed electricians to see if they are comfortable walking across a sinking foundation."

Licensed? Boone swore quietly under his breath. And here everyone had promised him this would be a good idea.

"Another couple of weeks?"

"At least. And it won't be cheap."