Page 18 of Wild Claim

For a moment, we stayed like that. I could feel the warmth of her body, smell the faint scent of her shampoo in her hair. Mina turned her head, her gaze meeting mine.

“That was close,” she murmured, her breath warm against my cheek. I held her a little longer, torn between my wish to shield her and the need to protect myself. Reluctantly, I let go. Clearingmy throat, I reached for the hammer, needing a distraction. “Here,” I said gruffly, offering it to her. “Your turn to give it a shot.”

“Okay,” Mina said. “Where do I hammer it in?”

I positioned myself behind her, close enough to guide but far enough to maintain some semblance of distance. “First, hold it like this,” I said, adjusting her grip. Her scent washed over me again, making it hard to focus. “Now, you’ve got to use your whole body, not just your arms.”

She attempted to drive the nail, but the hammer slipped, nearly grazing her thumb. “Careful there.” I reached around her to steady her hand.

“Sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“All you need is practice. Here, let me show you.” I placed my hand over hers on the hammer, guiding her through the motion. “Firm grip on the lower half for more control,” I said, acutely aware of how our bodies moved together. “And always keep your eyes on the nail head.”

Mina nodded, her breath catching slightly. “Okay.”

“Since this shingle is torn slightly, it doesn’t need to be replaced,” I said, taking a few steps back. “Now, take a swing.”

She held the nail properly, then swung the hammer. This time, it struck, driving the nail cleanly into the shingle. Mina let out a laugh, her face lighting up my world.

Warmth spread through my chest, disarming me with its suddenness. Her joy was infectious, and I almost smiled. “Not bad.”

Mina beamed up at me. “See, I told you I’d learn quickly with you as my teacher.”

Something about the way she looked at me, so open and trusting, made my chest tighten. Someone like me didn’t deserve someone as good as her. “One more,” I said, nodding towards another loose shingle. “Let’s see if you can do it twice.”

With a single, fluid motion, she drove the second nail in perfectly. We continued repairing the roof, adding roofing cement or sealant using a putty knife. The hours passed, and I still couldn’t shake the feel of her curves fitting perfectly against my body, or the nagging feeling that I was getting in way over my head.

Not long after, the sun sank lower. Mina stood, stretched, and let the icy wind toy with her hair as she gazed at the small town below us. “It’s beautiful from up here. You can see everything.”

I followed her gaze. The town was a patchwork of fall colors, the trees in the park stripped nearly bare, their leaves forming amber and crimson carpets on the ground. “Yeah, it is.” In all the years I’d been here, I don’t know that I ever took in this view. It had always been just another day to get done, another week to complete. But standing here with Mina, it felt different. Like maybe there was something more to see, more to feel.

She turned toward me, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Life before you left for the mountains.”

I shrugged, not wanting to dig too deep into the past. “Surviving is easier when you’re alone.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No use longing for what’s gone, sweetheart.”

Mina studied me for a moment. “I think I would miss the little things,” she said softly. “Like hot chocolate on a snowy day or hearing a new song on the radio.”

Her words tugged at something deep within me, memories I’d tried hard to bury. A late-night run to the bar with my brothers to watch the game, the first warm day of spring spent in the old man’s backyard tossing back a few beer cans. The sound of my mother’s laugh echoing through the house on Christmas morning.

I pushed those thoughts away. “You get used to it. The quiet has its own comforts.”

Mina didn’t respond immediately, her eyes drifting back to the town below. “I don’t think I could ever get used to being alone,” she said finally. “People need each other.”

She was only trying to understand me, to connect. But that was the problem. I was trying my damnedest to not hurt her.

“Ready for a fresh round? There are a few hours left in the day.”

“Absolutely,” Mina said. “What’s next on the list?”

I pointed towards a messy woodpile by the old shed. “Firewood. Winter’s coming, and you’ll need a decent stock.”

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