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This was different.

The log rocked when he set it down. Nate swore, turned it over, and tried again.

When he listened closely, he could still hear Walt and Leo talking by Leo’s grave.

His grave, which Nate had weeded without knowing. While Leo had been insufferable about it.

He split the log in front of him and fetched another one from the pile. Then another.

He was sweating now. His sleeves were starting to annoy him, so he stripped off the flannel and dropped it on the steps. A splinter had worked its way into one of his gloves. He stopped to shake it out, then kept going.

There was still wood to split.

Leo had asked the woman to let Walt stay. Dying on the floor, he’d been worried about Walt having somewhere to sleep. And this morning he’d listened to Walt describe it and immediately tried to make him feel better.

Nate wanted to hold him so badly that it made him angry all over again.

There should have been something he could do without having to go inside and make a cup of tea first. He should have been able to put an arm around the man he loved while someone told him he’d been murdered.

He swung too hard. The log split, and the ax drove into the chopping block beneath it.

Nate pulled at the handle. It didn’t budge.

“Fuck!”

He gripped it with both hands and worked it back and forth until the blade came free. Then he shoved the split pieces aside, set another log on the block, and raised the ax again.

“Nate?”

He looked up with the ax still raised.

Leo was floating past the steps. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes going from Nate’s face to the wood scattered across the grass. “Are you all right?”

Nate lowered the ax. “What is it?”

“I’m asking if you’re all right.”

“Yes. I’m just getting this done.”

Leo looked at the wood again.

“Did Walt want something?” Nate asked.

“Walt left twenty minutes ago.”

“He what?”

“He went home. He said to thank you.”

Nate stared at him. He couldn’t have been out here that long. He’d only meant to give them a few minutes. “I didn’t hear him.”

“No. I didn’t think you did.”

He looked down. There was wood everywhere, much more than he remembered splitting. His shirt had fallen off the step, and one sleeve was lying in the dirt. He should pick it up.

He should have said goodbye to Walt.

“You can call him,” Leo said. “He didn’t mind.”