Page 10 of Kissed By The Lumberjack
Too much. Way too much.
"I feel like you're gonna find something in those records that gives you a reason to shut me down." The words come out rougher than I intend. "Some permit my father forgot to file. Some form that got lost in the shuffle. And I'm gonna lose everything because of paperwork."
"Is that what happened with other audits?"
"There haven't been other audits. Not like this." I scrub a hand over my face. "New regulations. New oversight. They're looking for reasons to shut down small operations like mine. Makes it easier to let the big corporations take over."
"That's not—" She stops herself. Takes a breath. "That's not what I want."
"What do you want?"
She finally looks at me. The moonlight catches the gold in her eyes. "I want to understand."
"Understand what?"
"This." She gestures at the darkness around us. The trees. The mountains. The quiet. "Why it matters so much. Why you're willing to fight for it."
I should tell her it's just business. Just land. Just the family operation that pays my bills. That's what a smart man would say.
I'm not feeling smart tonight.
"Come with me tomorrow," I say.
"Where?"
"Into the timber stand. The one we're working right now." I push off the railing, turning to face her fully. "You want to understand? You can't do that from a filing cabinet. You gotta see it."
"That's not part of the audit protocol."
"Screw the protocol."
Her lips twitch. Almost a smile. "You're asking me to break the rules."
"I'm asking you to do your job better." I step closer. She doesn't back away. "You were a scientist, right? Before the county hired you. So be a scientist. Get your hands dirty. Look at what we're actually doing out there instead of what the paperwork says."
"And if I don't like what I see?"
"Then you write me up. Same as you would anyway." Another step. We're close now. Close enough that I can see the pulse jumping in her throat. "But if I'm gonna go down, I want it to be for something real. Something that matters. Not because my father forgot to sign the right form in 2015."
She's quiet for a long moment. The creek burbles in the darkness. An owl calls from somewhere in the trees.
"Okay," she says.
"Okay?"
"I'll come with you tomorrow." She tilts her chin up, meeting my eyes. "But I'm still doing the audit. This doesn't change anything."
"I know."
"And if I find violations?—"
"You'll document them. I get it." I should step back. Put space between us. Go inside and lock myself in my room like a responsible adult. "Rowan."
"What?"
I don't know what I'm going to say until the words are out. "I'm glad you couldn't sleep."
Her breath catches. Just a small sound, but I hear it. Feel it like a physical thing.
