a chain saw in your grip.
The family had a rule. Work smart
and no working alone. He wasn’t alone, but he sure as hell hadn’t been smart up
there. His head had been filled with images of Taylor on her knees.
He needed to get this thing under
control. Or he’d end up like Lou.
Hell, at least this time, the death
he caused would be his own, not his brother’s.
Chapter Five
It was eleven-thirty in the
morning, close to ninety on a summer day, and Jace was sweating buckets. He
downed a bottle of water, then swiped his arm across his forehead.
“We’re making good progress,” his
dad said, wiping his own brow. “Should be done tomorrow right on schedule.”
They had another job in Bentonville on Friday, which would carry through to
next week.
They cut in the mornings and hauled
in the afternoons, so the homeowner wasn’t left with loads of crap cluttering
the yard. Mitch and David were topping and shaping the last few branches on the
oak. It had needed to be trimmed back off the roof for both winter-storm
protection and to keep the carpenter ants from infesting the eaves. The
two-acre lot around the house would be trimmed to retain the view and give the
trees room. Like his dad and brothers, Jace knew every species of tree common
to the area and its required maintenance to promote healthy growth. The
underbrush needed clearing out, too. Willoughby and the five small surrounding
towns nestled in the mountain foothills provided year round work for Jackson
and Sons. Primarily, people living in the foothills didn’t maintain their yards
with lawns and flowers. The only ones who did were flatlanders, recently moved
from suburbia. Most residents let the forest grow around them, chopping it back
only when it became a fire hazard.
“You put your sunscreen on, Dad?”
“You sound like your mother.”
Jace grinned. When he’d left the office
this morning, Mom had told him to ask every half hour.
At fifty-nine, his dad still had a
few good working years left. He let his sons do the higher climbing, but he
hauled his share of the load. At damn near forty years in the tree business, he
deserved more time on the ground.
“If you want, Mitch and I can
finish up here tomorrow and you and David can start the Bentonville job.”
Jace didn’t suggest doing it the
other way around. David hadn’t partnered him since Lou died. It was Mitch or
Dad. Always.
His dad removed his cap and
scratched his head. “Nope. We’ll stick to the schedule.”
In other words, he didn’t trust
Jace alone with Mitch, even if they’d only be finishing the clearing, hauling
and mopping up.
Together, they watched Mitch and
David complete with synchronous teamwork. At one time, Jace had worked that way
with Lou, each anticipating the other’s moves. Timing and skill. You counted on
each other to be there.
He hadn’t been there for Lou that
day. He’d been sleeping off too much partying the night before, and Lou had
started without him.
Jace glanced at his dad, wondering
how often he thought about that day. Hell, most likely every day. Dad had been
the one to find Lou before Jace got there. His brother hit the femoral artery
with the chain saw, though God only knew exactly how it happened. Alone in the
midst of a nine-acre lot, Lou had been gone in a matter of minutes.
His father never said one bad word
to Jace, never accused Jace of breaking his trust, of letting his brother bleed
to death all alone. But Dad also never scheduled a job that put Jace alone with
one of his brothers.
Shit. Jace popped another bottle of
water and dug out the sunscreen tube for his father.
“You hungry?” his dad asked,
smoothing a palm of SPF 30 on the back of his neck.
“I’ll make the run,” Jace offered.
The job wasn’t far out of town, so they weren’t packing lunch. “Sandwiches
okay?”
“Sounds good.”
His brain crammed full of
everyone’s preferences, Jace took off, calling in the order so it would be
ready when he