by Jen Greyson
“Thanks.” I could hardly sit still. What an awesome start. First I met this super cutie who got me on-site, and now I was being given free rein inside the operation. Maybe not having Jeremy wouldn’t handicap me after all. Even with his star status, I doubt we’d have made it this far, this fast.
We climbed out and paused at the hood to say our goodbyes. “Thanks for the ride.”
“My pleasure. Hope to see you around.” He flashed that sexy grin and my insides quivered. San Diego had its share of hot guys, but his geeky slenderness was a refreshing change from the body-building sun gods.
“Hey!”
I jerked around and faced the source of the sound. A burly man who looked like the Musclebound Pinup for Loggers Weekly stood in the open door of the building farthest away from where I could get the badge. I cringed. Hopefully I hadn’t lost my edge and this wasn’t the point where I got fragged. Surely karma wouldn’t yank my forward progress so early.
Sexy-nerd’s appreciative gaze wandered over me once more. “Morning, Carl,” he said without looking.
The lumberjack scrutinized me then looked back at Sexy, obviously wishing he’d quit flirting with me and turn around. “Got good news. Ya comin’?”
Sexy smiled that lopsided grin that made my insides churn. For a minute I thought he was going to ask me something. “Right now.” He lifted a hand in an easy wave and moved toward the office. I was half-relieved I wouldn’t have to lie again. Much better to think he was about to ask me out.
At the bottom step, he paused and turned. “I’m Teague, by the way.”
My eyes widened and I took a step closer. What he said didn’t compute at all. I’d expected Senior Teague here running the place. Not a single source had mentioned a thing about Junior Teague being back from MIT. Maybe he was another Teague, maybe it was a really common name around here and it was a coincidence. Maybe he wasn’t related to the horrible Whetman Logging in any way. “T–Teague Whetman?”
He pointed to the big metal sign over the door. “Yep, this is me.”
My stomach twisted. Figured.
I forced my face to stay passive so he wouldn’t have any idea I was the one about to toss his life upside down. Turning up the flirt, I cocked one hip and scrambled to keep it together, even though I was totally dying inside. “Cassidy. I’m Cassidy.”
“Hope to see you around again, Cassidy.”
I forced a smile. He should be careful what he wished for… I could almost guarantee we were going to see each other again… and he would not be happy about it. What craptastic luck. Karma giveth, and karma taketh away…
Teague jogged up the steps and I caught snatches of the conversation as the door swung closed. “Jeremy isn’t coming? Fantastic—”
I turned and inched toward the administration office that Sexy—ugh, Teague Whetman, Junior—had pointed out. For an owner’s kid, he’d been pretty blasé about letting me on-site. Was that more of the small-town mentality, or did they figure since Jeremy wasn’t coming the threat had been neutralized? I couldn’t believe Jeremy’s flaketasticness was going to work in my favor—for once.
A sharp breeze yanked the end of my scarf and whipped it against my face. I shivered and tucked it back in. Pretending to adjust my scarf and fix my makeup before my interview, I bought myself a few minutes to stand on the sidewalk and think. Not that thinking was even possible in this giant freezer. All the thawing my toes had done in Teague’s car was quickly reversing. If I stood here for much longer, they were going to start falling off as they froze one by one. Digging through my bag, I took out my compact and used the mirror to survey the buildings behind me. Being inside the yard helped, but there were still a kajillion obstacles.
Three more lumberjacks strode past me toward the office Teague had entered. I ducked my face and smoothed my hair. I eyed each building, measuring my possible impact. Short of setting the entire place on fire, figuring out how to stop the saws would be the biggest attention grabber. As a one-person protest, I needed to hit fast and hit big.
Walking as slowly as possible, which wasn’t hard now that my pinkie toes were frostbit, I surveyed the yard. More huge semis loaded with dead trees came in on the right edge of the yard, made a big loop around a couple of sorting buildings, and went out on the far left through another guarded gate. Tractors and loaders moved logs in all stages to and from buildings. Shrieking saws competed with the roar of machinery, adding to the undertone of death. Anger surged up in me and threatened to cloud my judgment. I needed to stay coolheaded until I figured out my plan of attack for the day.
I rounded a corner and found the circular mill—the first saw most logs met up with. If Junior couldn’t get logs through there, the entire operation would come to a screeching halt and I’d have my impact.
Squaring my shoulders, I dodged a forklift and dug in my bag for an activist’s number one staple.
Handcuffs.
Two
It didn’t take long to sneak past everyone and slip into the mill. They all were so focused on their tasks and seemingly oblivious to the snow, which had begun to fall in giant feathery flakes on top of me and were quickly turning my fingers blue. Thankfully, the mill had a solid roof and only one wall of doors, so as long as the wind didn’t blow through the giant opening, this would be a cozy piece of cake.
The saw’s mountainous rumble nearly deafened me. There weren’t any logs running through it, but they must have kept it at the ready to kill at a moment’s notice. It made my heart hurt. I just could not understand why we needed to continuously murder all these trees. I set my bag by the door and jogged in place to warm up. I breathed into my hands, but I could barely feel them. I didn’t have time to waste. I snuck through the shadows to make sure I was alone, and when I finished, my racing heart was pumping lots of warm blood through my system. I scanned the hulking machinery and picked my target.
The first section of the circle mill held the saw that moved the logs and was the very first point of entry. I glanced up at the chains and clamps hanging on the walls that they used to bind the logs or shift them around as needed to keep everything moving swiftly through here. If I could get one of those chains threaded through the entire mechanism and then cuff myself to the other end, there’d be no getting me out of here.
I climbed up on a stool and lifted the heavy chains. They weighed a bloody ton and my hands were shaking with the ecstasy of what I was about to pull off. The idea of getting close to the saw made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to work through the fear and do this for the greater cause. My excitement was enough to keep me pushing forward even when my fingers brushed the angry teeth of the dormant saw. The machine was still on and all it would take would be one accidental bump of the trigger to fire this entire thing up. I should probably figure out how to turn it off, but that would cost me precious moments. Time I definitely didn’t have. Someone would be back to shut it off before they left anyway, and I wanted them to find me chained to this sucker, not trying to power it down.
A woman’s voice sprang from the square speaker a few feet above me, making me jump and yelp. I focused on the chain while she spoke. “Attention all employees and contractors. The national weather service has issued a severe storm warning. We’re going to get pounded. Teague wants you wrapped up and headed off the property ASAP. If you need anything—fuel, food, or supplies, please stop by the main office and let me know. I will be leaving the property in fifteen minutes. Pack it up, people. You know the drill.”
Fifteen minutes didn’t seem like much time at all. I tried to tamp down my anxiousness as I moved closer to my point of attack. I wove the chain over and around the machinery and through the middle of the saw, then connected it to a finer one around my waist and ankles while the woman droned on about what was probably commonplace around here. Based on the amount of snow I’d seen piled up, I was sure this was just a typical scenario. The handcuffs locked into place with a satisfactory click that made me smile and permanently secured me to the saw.
“Please vacate the premises immediately.”
My heart lurched in my throat. “Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right,” a deep voice said.
I swung around at an accompanying curse and tight chuckle. Teague stood there, propped against a half-open door, collar drawn up against his jaw, his nerdy glasses giving a subdued intelligence to his scowl.
My heart hammered in my chest. Even though he was Senior’s son, the look of him did crazy things to my insides, sending every atom of my being careening around like agitated bees. I needed to stand my ground, though, not get all mushy about the delirious sight of him. “Did you just laugh at me?”
“Mmm.” He pushed away from the door, staring at the chains.
“Go away,” I yelled over the roaring machinery. “I’m staging a protest here.”
“Yes, I can see that.” He reached up and tugged on the top strand of chains, making my body bob and sway.
“I have a right to protest.”
“Not on private property, sweetheart.” He peered into the center of the saw where I’d twisted the chain. “God, you made an awful mess of this. You know if anyone turned this on it’d cut you in half, right?”
I flinched. Not exactly.
Running that chain so close to the big teeth of the blade had made me queasy, but it had all been worth it. Of course, chaining myself to the saw had been a huge danger, but no more than it was to each and every log they sent through. I tipped up my chin. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
One eyebrow lifted above the rim of his glasses, and he surveyed the length of chain wrapped around me. His gaze licked the inside of my ankle and hugged my waist, but I stared at the top of his head, ready to meet his gaze when he was done enjoying the view. Up over the curve of my breasts, the length of my neck, and finally back to meet my eyes. Why, oh, why did we have to meet here when I was wrapped in eighty-seven layers of bulky clothes instead of on a beach in that new red bikini I bought last week? Heat and tingles covered the entire distance of the road map he’d just traveled across my body. I forced my gaze not to return the inventory along the length of his body, even though the temptation was nearly making my eyes water. I wanted to hate him like I hated his father, but he’d shown me only kindness since the moment we’d met. But cute did not trump earth. I had to remember that. I had to.
The phone on his belt chirped. He stared at me, through me, straight into me until I was convinced he could read every reason why I’d ever done anything. I shivered with the intensity of it and tried to blame it on the snowflake that swirled in and landed on my big toe. Icy claws dug into the meat of my butt and I really, really wished I had pants on, and I super hated pants.
Without shifting his gaze, he unclipped the phone and pushed the side button, making it work like a walkie-talkie. “Now what?”
“Team seven called. They’re getting pounded. Storm’s bad. Whiteout bad. Might have to abandon equipment.”
He flinched and turned his attention to the phone. “I thought we were only supposed to get a few inches out of this?”
“Guess not.”
“Fine. Tell them to park everything together and tag the GPS so we can grab it once this blows over. Swap out my car, get the yard ready, and I’ll finish things with our protester.”
“Ten-four.”
Teague sighed and reattached the phone to its holster. I chewed the inside of my lip. That kind of sounded bad, and coupled with the loudspeaker announcement I wondered just how huge a storm had to be in Alaska for people to freak out. I figured they were used to this kind of stuff.
He adjusted his glasses and stepped closer. “Here’s the thing. There’s a big storm moving in. Instead of calling the police and having this turn into a huge mess, I’d rather just cut you out and have you be on your way.”
“No thank you.” He was not sending me home yet, no matter how bad the incoming storm. I’d already overcome Jeremy’s flakiness and a thousand other things to be right here right now making this happen. A little snow was not going to defeat me.
“No thank you? You’d rather have me call the cops?”
“If you do, the media will come.”
He laughed and the sound made me shiver more, but this kind of shiver sent a spike of heat shooting through my cold parts. And now my arms were starting to be affected by his nearness. My palms were sweating and I couldn’t exactly wipe them on my skirt.
“The media? In Bear Ridge? Let’s see, that would be Jim, I guess. He works for me and runs the town newspaper. Want me to have him come over, skip the cops?”
Damn you, Jeremy. He could have at least sent one media crew. This was falling apart fast. I shifted to ease the pressure of the handcuff on my wrist then bluffed because it was all I had left. “Even though Jeremy isn’t coming, the media still thinks he is… They should be here any minute.”
“Great. Then I’ll be back when they get here.” He bent and ran a finger along the lower loop of the chain beneath the saw table, then straightened, his smile gone.
I missed his sweet smile, but if he was getting angry with me, then he was going to let me stage this protest a little longer and that was all I was asking for. Never mind that lights were turning off around the entire compound and fewer and fewer vehicles were moving along the roads. I refused to admit that my protest was bombing, so I stood straighter and tried to contort my frozen body into a format that looked strong and unyielding. “Fine.”
He slid his gaze down my body once more, getting hung up on the overflow of cleavage now that my scarf had fallen to the side and again at the swell of my hip. I wanted him to look at me like that when I wasn’t strapped to his precious saw. He had a way of completely undressing me and there wasn’t a hint of judgment there. It had been a long time since anyone had taken such in-depth note of me, and his slow perusal made my cold nipples pucker tighter.
His tongue touched the corner of his mouth and he adjusted his glasses, then moved to the wall on my right and flipped a big panel, plunging the entire building into silence. As he stopped at the door, his parting words sent a chill up my spine. “Hope the storm doesn’t delay them, or they won’t be here for weeks.”
And like that he was gone. I held my breath and waited for him to come back in with tools to cut me out of this, but the longer the silence stretched, I worried that he might have been serious about leaving me here during my first Alaskan snowstorm. I shivered and tried to ignore how the cold seeped beneath my skin and straight into my bones. Fine. I could take it.
Beyond the open doors, giant snowflakes tumbled down and settled into the big mounds already gathering on the ground. Teague came into view as he crossed through the snow, leaving deep tracks. He stopped once to talk to a guy, and they pointed over here a couple times, but only a few words carried across the distance. Mad words.
I jogged a little in place, wishing I would have thought about boots. My toes hurt, they were so cold, and every time my foot touched the concrete another jab of pain radiated through my entire leg. The jogging in place kept me warm though, so it was a horrible trade-off. I preferred the way Teague’s gaze warmed me, but that meant he had to be standing here, which was only going to happen if he was cutting me free.
Before long he headed back into my building with an armful of tools. I didn’t mean to be relieved, but a little surge raced through me at the thought of getting out and somewhere warm.
I stiffened my spine and forced myself to think about sunny beaches and burying my toes in warm sand so I wouldn’t be the most pathetic protester in the history of the world.
Teague climbed the concrete steps, his feet shuffling and stomping through the deepening snow. It was really coming down, and in the short time he’d been gone nearly a foot had already fallen. I was absolutely fascinated by how thick and fluffy it looked.
As Teague stepped inside the open doorway, his phone rang. He leaned over a table and tumbled the armful of tools into a pile. “Yeah?” He held it like a walki
e-talkie.
“Team Seven left the machinery. Joey called, said they all made it home.” I recognized the woman’s voice from the loudspeaker.
“They all have fuel?” He glared at me like it was my fault team seven was abandoning their vehicles. I wish I were that competent.
“Yes. And Timmy just shot that elk last week, so they’re all set.”
“Great.” He let out a sigh and took his finger off the button.
“Don’t stay long.”
“I won’t. Get home to your babies. I’ll make Carl stay with me.”
“Bye.”
“Drive careful.” He clipped his phone and rubbed his eyes, skewing his glasses. This was not turning out nearly as successful as I hoped.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, rubbed his hands together, and gathered the pile of tools.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of here.” He set the stack on the flat section of the saw next to me.
My teeth chattered. “I thought you were coming back later.”
“This is later.” He rested his fingers on the circular saw and the bolt cutters. “How in the world you managed to rig this, I’ll never understand.”
I puffed up. “Bike 101. Know how to chain your bike.”
Apparently I said it with enough conviction that he laughed. “Ah, Cassidy. I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
I shifted under his gaze. He was making me shiver again. “So now what?”
A gust of wind blew through the mill, dusting us with snowflakes. Cold stole my breath and I wiggled my fingers, but that no longer helped. I hadn’t been able to feel them for a couple minutes.
“First, I get you out of here.” He slipped the nose of the bolt cutters over the first link in my handcuffs and split the chain, releasing them from each other, but not from my wrists. I jammed them into my armpits, shocked at how icy they were.
I wanted to throw a big fit, but I couldn’t stop shivering long enough. So now he was cutting me out of my protest, less than two hours into it. What a downer—not that there was any hype whatsoever. The place was all but deserted.
