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ELEVEN
HAYDEN
The pickax was heavy in my hands and my shoulders burned from the trail work. After the brief storm we had several days ago, falling trees badly damaged some trails with a few areas washed out from sudden rains.
Lifting the pickax above my head, I brought it down in a strong sweep, digging hard into the dirt to cut out the trail siding. Though we expected another storm soon enough, work was work and we could not afford to fall behind.
Several of us worked together, sorting through the dilapidated trail. Nathan working at one end, managing the rolling grade dip for future water flows. James, our resident lumberjack who was basically the size of a house in muscle, was taking care of fallen trees with swings of an axe and the roar of a chainsaw that rumbled through the trees. Miles and Christopher, our local youth corps volunteers, were hauling out the dirt to be reused elsewhere in rusty wheelbarrows.
I needed this work. Standing around doing busy work drained me and my mind would wander to other things, other... people. All I could think about was Lana.
She was all that I wanted.
Knowing that she consumed my mind, my everything, I felt like I was going crazy the last few days. Nathan had reached out to reservations, but still no one had picked up any name like Lana. I had guessed it was her nickname, but hoped that something similar would come up - and that I could recognize it.
But in the last week, absolutely nothing.
Even Nathan tried supporting with less than legal means from a sister who worked in law enforcement. I appreciated the effort, but it had to end there.
Lana deserved her privacy. Maybe it was to be the one and only time, but I had already lost my heart to her.
I would never get it back.
Slamming the pickaxe into the ground, throwing my agitated weight behind each swing, veins popping around my forearms, still was not enough. Her sweet curves, thick legs, and lips I could kiss for days.
I stopped a moment, dropping the head of the pickaxe to the dirt and resting against the hilt. Soaked in sweat at my neck and shoulders, the cool, light breeze against my skin was a welcome sensation. Pulling free my yellow hard hat, I wiped away the sweat from my brow and reveled in the cool breeze against my face.
“Mr. Hayden?”
“Hmm?” I grumbled, losing track of my thoughts lost on Lana’s body. Probably for the best. Bounding up the new trail was young Miles, coming back from the truck with Christopher not far behind him. He stopped, bent over, and pressed his hands to his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Mr. Hayden, the radio in the truck - someone has been calling. Should I give it to Mr. Wharton?”
James was in the chainsaw’s roar, his ears covered with bright orange hearing protectors.
“No problem, Miles, I can take it. Go get James and tell him to come on over. It’s probably important.” I reached out and Miles handed over the radio, giving a small salute and running up the trail to James and Nathan.
I clicked the radio on while looking up at the bright blue of the clear morning sky. “Hayden here.” I said into the radio, waiting for a reply and listening to the soft static.
A moment later Bucks’ voice came on over the radio. “It’s Bucks, back to base.” His sharp tone set me on edge. He was serious, but this was a different type of serious.
“Something wrong Bucks?”
“Storm coming in faster than expected. Closing up facilities within the next hour.” I looked over my shoulder. The others were standing with their gear, waiting to hear for any orders that may come through.
Easy enough to understand. “Got it. Heading in now.”
“Hayden, the new kid, Adrian, should come your way to help drive the boys back. He’s closest.”
“Understood, thanks Bucks. See you soon.”
“Be quick.”
I latched the radio to my belt and felt the breeze shift, blowing colder against my skin. “Damn.” I mumbled, watching the blue sky freckled with feathery clouds, wondering how bad it would get. These storms would roll in off the ocean, following the cold stream miles above our heads and bring all hell down around us in less than 24 hours. Best to get Miles and Christopher out of the park and back with their families. A worried Bucks meant something bad.
“Let’s go, we’re packing up.”
James made an affirmative grunt and gathered his gear in two hands. Nathan and the boys following suit.
I picked up the last few of our things and slung a soft water cooler pack over my shoulder. “Head back to the truck. Another ranger is coming to pick up Miles and Christopher.”
