Page 47 of The Hardest Part

There’s something to be said for the smell of freshly cut wood, its oils, and sap releasing their aromatic particles into the air. Earthy and warm, the scent reminded him of Christmas or a ride through an evergreen forest. If Billy didn’t love working with the horses so much, he supposed he could be quite content building houses.

He put down his nail gun and sat in what would one day be their living room. They’d made darn good progress in the five weeks since the foundation was poured. The engineers constructed the bridge. Last weekend, he and Jake finished the subfloor. With any luck, they’d have exterior walls going up today, and that stack of lumber would start looking like a house.

Billy leaned back on his elbows and listened to the soothing gurgle of the creek. The orange glow of the rising sun kissed the mountain, evoking feelings of warmth and optimism, and inspiring dreams of possibilities yet to come.

New beginnings.

Like a movie playing in his mind, he could see it. Emily dancing in the kitchen, their children at her feet. Jake transcribing old letters in a chair by the fire. Chaser frolicking inthe pasture. A dog. A garden. His family. His home. The promise of a new day filled with wonder and joy.

I best get off my ass, then. Time’s a wastin’.

The last weekend of May, Brookside’s cookout was taking place this afternoon. Billy looked forward to it every year. He and Jake promised Emily they’d meet her there at twelve, and that left them less than six hours to get some work done today.

Billy picked himself up from the floor. Measuring sixteen-inch intervals on lengths of Douglas fir, he made marks for the studs, while Jake cut them. Then, together, they fastened the studs to the plates with framing nails.

With his elbows resting on his knees, his brother sat on his haunches opposite him. “Should we put the sheathing on now, before we raise the wall?”

“We could. It’ll be a helluva lot easier to attach here on the ground.” He glanced over at the pallet of plywood sheets. Each one weighed a good seventy pounds. “But then it’s gonna be a helluva lot harder to lift the wall into place.”

“I reckon between the two of us, we’ve got the muscle to do it.” Clearly, Jake overestimated their capabilities. “And if it’s too heavy, I’m sure Tanner and Kellan will give us a hand.”

With a half-hearted snicker, he said, more to himself than his brother, “We’re gonna need Archer, too.”

“Think we can get four walls done this morning?”

“Sure do.” Because with each wall that went up and every stone set in place, Billy was one step closer to seeing his vision come to fruition, and not just the house, but Emily as their wife.

“Let’s knock ‘em out, then, brother.”

And they did. Working alongside his brother, every nail he drove, and each piece of wood he cut, gave him a sense of purpose.

Billy often wondered how the ones who came before them had built such an incredible place, especially now that he was building a home of his own. Long before power tools, electricity, and big box stores came along, the only resources the Brookside settlers had were those the mountain provided them. With timber and rock painstakingly hewn by hand, they created this idyllic Eden he was fortunate enough to call home.

From the highway, an unmarked five-mile drive led to their half-million acres, and a coded gate. Once inside it, a right-hand turn went farther up the mountain to the ranch and left went into town. With green space at its center, shops lined either side of the square. Behind the old bunkhouse, which now housed the school, a clear, running stream bordered the far end.

Freshly showered after this morning’s labor, Billy walked over to the square with his brother. With many of the structures built in the 19th century, he marveled at the town with a renewed appreciation. They reached the crowded green, and he hurried his steps when he saw her.

Chestnut hair framing her beautiful face, Emily sat waiting on a blanket in a pretty white dress, Arien, her mom, and the rest of the Brooks family surrounding her. She glanced up; her smile radiant, the moment she spotted him and Jake amongst the townsfolk. God, he loved her. Every fond memory he had was tied to this girl, from taking her for a ride on the handlebars of his new ten-speed bike to sharing their first kiss over a glass of Grams’ lemonade. Just fifteen, he remembered being nervous, wondering if there was food stuck in his teeth, his breath stank like barbecue, or that he’d mess it up somehow.

But I didn’t.

Two years had flown by since then, and hopefully, so would the next. Billy would push through it because a lifetime of kissing Emily was worth it.

“There’s my handsome cowboy.” She took his hand, and pulling him down to sit beside her, Emily kissed his cheek. “I missed you.”

He saw her only yesterday, but he’d take it—the sentiment and the kiss.

“How’s my girl?”

“Fine, now” She held onto his hand and took his brother’s with the other. “Both of my boys are here.”

Long hair curtaining his face, Jake dipped his head to kiss her. On the lips. Billy turned his head, and holding her hand in his lap, aimed his gaze at anything but them. Matthew Brooks doted on his very pregnant wife, rubbing her feet. She reclined in a lawn chair, her hand resting atop her enormous belly. Tanner snoozed on Arien’s lap, his hat covering most of his face, while she combed the hair out of Kellan’s eyes with her fingers. Her back to them all, Miss Kim rifled through a cooler, but Grams had her eyes right on him.

With her head tilted to the side, and her smile knowing, Melinda Brooks gazed upon him kindly. Emily’s grandmother, and his teacher in first grade, she’d known him his entire life. “Did you have a nice birthday, Billy?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.” He blew out seventeen candles on his cake just two days before. “Thank you for the shirt and the cookies you sent with Em. Your chocolate chip cookies are my favorite.”

“Of course, dear.” And she winked. “I’ll make sure I give Emily the recipe.”

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