Page 167 of Love Me Reckless

Kirilee takes me on her own tour, rattling off her ideas, bringing up questions and thoughts that no doubt have been percolating in her mind since that first visit. I love seeing her face light up or her lips purse in thought. It reminds me of our first round of hot tub wish list, when she circled her shins in the water, imagining. I love that I get to watch this dream come true.

I tried to “invest” in the Finn River Community Art Center but Kirilee wouldn’t hear of it, so instead I bought her six top-of-the-line pottery wheels, a chemist’s hood for mixing her glazes, and two electric kilns. Meanwhile, I’m saving for a place of our own. We’re not in any rush—living with Carson and Brody is a hoot and we get along so well—but it’s never too early to plan for the future we want.

That night, after celebrating with our friends at the pub and later—just the two of us in our little room—I sweep her silky hair from her shoulder and hold her close.

“I overheard you and Grayson talking tonight, about Alaska,” she says. “Are you going?”

“Yeah. After Sofie and Zach’s wedding, maybe.” I’ll spread some of Sheldon’s ashes near Mom’s grave and check on her. I’ll keep some of Sheldon here in Finn River too, so I can keep looking out for him. I think I’ll take him to the top of Glory Basin, so he can appreciate the view.

“Will you let me go with you?”

I stroke her long hair and savor the warmth of her body. “I would love that.”

Nothing between us. Never again.

I followthe concrete walkway down a set of stairs to the tall building taking up most of the lower level. Two of the bay doors are open, and the whir of machinery and the occasional shout rises above the steady spring breeze.

Just as I arrive, the bell chimes and a crowd of students file out in groups, talking loudly, laughing, their backpacks slung across their lanky shoulders. Most of them are boys, but I’m glad to see a pair of young women in the mix too. I stay in the shadows, watching the kids continue up the stairs or saunter toward the student parking lot. A little thrill hums beneath my breastbone.

“Mr. Reed?” a man calls from inside the shop, snapping my attention back to my purpose.

I enter the darkened shop, the scent of motor oil and sawdust hitting my senses, and extend my hand to the thick-chested man in a Finn River Falcons hoodie and dark jeans.

“Sam Blankenship,” he says, giving my hand a firm pump. Hisgrip is thick and strong and his close-cropped fingernails have the distinctive stains of a person who spends long hours getting them dirty.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, my eye drawn to the work bench behind him and the computer stations along the left side.

“You want a tour?” he asks, arching one of his bushy eyebrows.

“I’d love that,” I reply.

Sam spends the next forty-five minutes sharing the two auto repair stations and various types of equipment, the adjoining wood shop, the 3D printer and the robotics area, and the computers where another teacher offers a coding class.

“Only thing we don’t really do is electricity, at least not at a high level,” Sam says after we’ve returned to the main auto bay where a diesel truck awaits repairs.

“It looks like there’s plenty here to keep kids busy,” I say.

Sam cocks his head. “Tell me more about your idea. You’ve got approval from the ranch?”

I nod. “My boss, Robin McTavish, has it in writing, when you’re ready. We’d offer two intern positions per summer. Each kid would get paired with an experienced mechanic to learn the trade while earning high school credit. Then in the winter, they’d pull a monthly weekend shift to see how it all works in real time.”

“Any chance these internships could lead to a paid position?”

“Absolutely. A student intern would be eligible for assistance with the vocational program at Bitterroot Community College as part of employment if they go that route.”

Sam’s face brightens. “This sounds too good to be true.”

“The kids would have to work hard.”

“I have a few juniors this year who might be interested,” Sam says. “I think they both ski too.”

I laugh. “That comes in handy.”

Carson and Brody pulled me aside the week we closed for the season to thank me for the comic relief my ski abilities had provided them throughout the winter.

Wait, you knew?

Of course we knew, you dumbass.

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