Chapter Eleven

“You know, you used to be a tough country girl,” Chase said several minutes later, ambling into the kitchen with Jack hot on his heels, his eyes searching for a coffee mug.

“Already poured it,” Polly said, taking a sip from her own mug, vaguely disappointed to see that Chase was fully dressed now. “I did used to be a tough country girl, and now I’m a wimpy suburbanite who is used to car alarms, not coyotes. Sue me.”

“Attorney joke?” Chase said, and Polly shot him a wry grin. “Sorry. Poor taste so early in the morning.”

“Listen, thanks for… you know, staying over. But I should really…” Polly gesturing around the house, and Chase looked around to see what she was gesturing at. “I have things to do. Things that don’t involve babysitting a gillie all day while I make phone calls, and do stuff.”

“Who are you calling?” Chase asked. “And what’s a gillie?”

“What they call nature guides in England who take people on expeditions to blow up deer, you know, like you do.”

“I don’t give the tourists C-4 or anything,” Chase defended. “We don’t ‘blow up’ the deer. That’d make a helluva mess, and I’m sure the United States government wouldn’t look too kindly on it either. So, who are you calling?”

“Well, a furnace repairman, for starters,” Polly said and Chase tsked. “What?”

“If you get it fixed, I won’t have an excuse to keep you warm anymore,” Chase said with a teasing wink.

Polly cocked an eyebrow at him. “Chase Colton, are you flirting with me?”

He shook his head gravely. “No, your honor.”

She socked him in the shoulder to hide her embarrassment, then made shooing motions with her other hand. “Shoo. I have things to do. And I have to meet ‘Jacobs’, who is doing all the cottage repair and construction, according to Parker. And I have bed head, and there’s only so much humiliation I can take in the span of a day.”

“I didn’t even notice your hair, but now that you mention it, you do look…”

“Watch what you say, gillie,” Polly warned gravely.

“I was going to say something much more colorful than ‘delightfully rumpled’, so I’ll just roll with that,” Chase recanted, and then whistled loudly. “C’mon, Jack, let’s hit the trail.”

“Will…” Polly cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “Will I see you around?”

Chase smiled tenderly, stepping forward and tugging on a lock of her tousled hair. “Count on it, kitten.”

And before Polly could blink, the front door had opened and closed, leaving only a gust of wind in its wake.

**

Several hours later, Polly pulled the car into the driveway and put it into park, lifting up her sunglasses and studying the beat up blue and white pickup truck parked off to the side of the drive. She had driven back into town to check her email at the library, find cell coverage long enough to find a repairman for the furnace, and to pick up more emergency ‘the electricity might go out’ supplies, as well as more merlot. If Chase Colton was going to be on the scene while she was up north, she was going to need fortification and liquid courage seemed to be the way to go.

Feeling as though the morning of running errands had been a success, she stepped out of the car optimistically, ready and willing to meet ‘Jacobs’ and discuss the progress of the construction. 

She wasn’t ready, however, for the blast of Metallica she heard coming from a nearby stereo, her mind suddenly transported back to head banging to ‘Enter Sandman’ and ‘Wherever I May Roam’ in the old car she and Parker had shared, the summer before she left for UCLA and he left for Basic Training. She quietly sang the words to ‘The God That Failed’ as she approached the closest cabin to the house, searching for the elusive Jacobs.

Instead, she saw a tiny girl perched atop a ladder, hammering furiously on a shutter near one of the windows and cursing colorfully.

“Excuse me,” Polly called, not wanting to startle the girl and have her topple off the ladder to her death. 

“Excuse me!” she called again, louder this time, and the girl whipped around then gave her a quick smile. “One sec… let me just beat this thing into submission.”

Polly waited, sliding her sunglasses up to the top of her head and admiring the progress on the cabin thus far. Parker had situated it perfectly – a lake view, only a short walk to the trail through the woods, but with ample parking for overnighters to bring their things in. It was small, tidy and quiet – perfect for people looking to ‘get away from it all’.

It was no Bora Bora, Polly mused idly, but it would do.

“Hi,” the girl said, bounding down off the ladder and giving her a wide smile. “You must be Polly – Parker talks about you all the time when he calls or when he’s here. He’s such a great guy. I’m Mae. Did I say that already? Hi. I’m Mae. Hi!”

Polly blinked several times, trying to absorb this rush of introduction and information, and then put her hand out to shake with a smile. “Hi there. Yes, I’m Polly North – I mean, Polly Royston, Parker’s sister. Nice to meet you, Mae. Is, um, your… dad around?” Polly asked, looking over Mae’s shoulder for what would surely be the ‘Jacobs’ in charge.

“No, my dad works in Houghton. Why? Do you need a mechanic?” Mae asked. 

“Well, I’m looking for Jacobs – Parker said he was in charge of the renovation and construction,” Polly said, explaining.

Mae burst out laughing, and Polly took a step back, almost embarrassed. Who the hell was this Jacobs person? She thought silently.

“I’m Jacobs. Mae Jacobs. I swear I’m not twelve years old, though I look like it,” she said easily. “I’m actually twenty four.”

“You’re twenty four?” Polly asked, wondering if she was being punked. 

“I swear I am. I’m just, you know, short. And youthful looking. And kind of a tomboy, which doesn’t help me look any older. But the tool belt makes me look wicked, right?”

Polly eyed Mae, and Mae chuckled again. “I swear, I’m Jacobs. Call Parker – he’ll tell you. I’m in charge of the whole project here.”

Polly wanted to choose her words carefully, not wanting to insult Mae. Mae, however, seemed to read her mind. “You can’t insult me, Polly. Just ask – what the hell does a twenty four year old midget-type girl know about construction?”

“Well, yes,” Polly said, smiling self consciously.

 “Well, for starters, I have a father who is a mechanic and a home improvement nut. I also have four older brothers: an electrician, a construction foreman, a roofer, and a general handyman. I got good genes, and I’ve been around this type of work my whole life. I love carpentry and construction, so when I was little, I paid attention. A lot of people won’t give me a chance because I don’t have a Y chromosome, but Parker trusted me, and once word got around, I’ve gotten some work. Thanks, by the way. Parker’s great. It’s been nice to prove that a penis isn’t required to hammer some nails or install a door.”

Polly nodded despite herself. “Amen to that. Parker is great - thanks. He says hi, by the way. He wanted me to check in with you, see if you need anything, how it was going, if you needed an advance for any more materials, stuff like that.”

Mae smiled. “So far, things are going really well – the weather has been really cooperative, so that helps. And the stock of materials is in good shape so far, but I’ll let you know. Do you want to take a tour? I’d love to show you what I’ve been up to – well, me and a couple of guys who help me out on weekends.”

Polly smiled. “I’d love to see,” she said happily, caught up in Mae’s enthusiasm. “Lead the way,” she gestured, and Mae led her towards the first cabin.

13614/50000