Hand-Me-Down Love Read online

  “You keep using that word, “clear,” she said.

  “I know. It seems to be the right word. I can’t think of a better word.”

  “It just hurts so much for you to be gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sean said. “It hurts me too, but we’ve got to get strong.” They talked a few more minutes, and when they hung up, Sean lay back on the first bed he’d been on in nearly two weeks. He fell asleep instantly.

  The next morning, Sean knew he wasn’t ready to get back on the trail. He decided to stay another night at the hostel and visit the all-you-can-eat diner for lunch and supper. Gary and Rufus, the men he’d met the day before, had already moved on by the time he woke up.

  He was like a bottomless pit when he visited the diner, filling his plate twice at lunch and then at supper. He couldn’t get enough of the chicken and dumplings and meatloaf and green beans and corn. He stuffed his face with yeast rolls spread with butter.

  “Did you get enough?” the waitress asked him when she came to his table. She had long dark hair and a smile on her lips.

  “I think so,” Sean said, laughing.

  She picked his plates up. “There’s a bar right down the street from here. Billy’s. If you’re interested in that.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Sean said, thinking he might be interested in that. He paid his bill and left the waitress a good tip.

  “Just turn left when you leave here and you’ll see Billy’s,” the waitress called to him as he was opening the door. Sean did take a left and about a block down saw a neon sign flashing Billy’s Brews and Food. He pushed the door open and was greeted with country music from a jukebox. He sat at the bar and ordered a beer.

  When he was on his second beer, an old man sat down at the stool next to him. He looked at Sean and nodded his head. Sean nodded back.

  “Pete Warner,” the old guy said extending his hand to Sean. “Sean O’Connell,” Sean said shaking his hand.

  “You a hiker?” Pete asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve been on the trail for nine days. Taking a break now.”

  “I used to walk the trail, every fall and every spring, back in my younger days,” Pete said taking a drink from his mug. “It gets in your blood, the trail does. I don’t go anymore since I’ve gotten too old, but I still like to come to Billy’s and meet the hikers, hear their stories.”

  Sean and Pete talked through the night about the trail, and then about their lives. Pete said his wife had died ten years ago and he’d never gotten over it. Sean couldn’t believe it, but he told Pete that his wife had died less than a year ago.

  “It’s the hardest thing,” Pete said. “One day they’re there and you’ve been living with ‘em, lovin’ ‘em, and then they’re gone. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Where do you put your love after that? It’s a terrible thing.”

  As it got close to midnight, Pete said, “When’re you getting back on the trail?”

  “I think I’m through with the trail,” Sean said. “I’m not really sure where I’m going. I’m kind of at loose ends right now.”

  “Do you want to work?”

  “I’d be willing to work, sure,” Sean said, finishing off his beer.

  “The reason I ask is that every now and then a hiker stays around for a while, working on the timber. What did you say you did for a living?”

  “I was a banker,” Sean said.

  Pete looked at Sean, his eyes moving from his long hair to his full beard. He laughed long and hard. Sean laughed with him. “I’ve got a silver BMW back home,” Sean said, and they laughed even harder.

  “If you’re interested in doing some hard physical labor, I might be able to hook you up.”

  “I’m interested,” Sean said.

  “An old friend of mine, Marty Rutherford, runs his family’s lumber business. It’s been around since eighteen hundred and something, when the Rutherfords first came to this area.” Pete took another drink from his mug. Sean signaled the bartender to bring two more.

  “Thank you kindly,” Pete said to the bartender when he put a fresh mug in front of him.

  “Anyway, the family owns thousands of acres of timberland. The reason it’s still successful is that early on old man Rutherford made sure he replanted with seedlings whenever he cut. Kept it going for generations. Marty still does it the same way today. ‘Replenish,’ he says. ‘Give it back.’”

  “What kind of timber is it?” Sean asked, not that he knew much about timber.

  “It’s mostly white pine. A lot of that around here.”

  “So, what’s the job?” Sean asked.

  “I think it’s a little bit of everything. What Marty does is selectively cut his trees, and then he takes the logs over to his mill where he finishes them for log cabin kits. He doesn’t make the kits himself, he ships the logs out. The log cabin companies make a big deal out of the way Marty treats his timber, green they call it.”

  “People like green these days,” Sean said, recalling several green Mobile businesses he had given start-up loans to.

  “Where is Rutherford’s?” Sean asked Pete. “I don’t have a car or a place to live or anything.”

  “I tell you what. I’ll give Marty a call tomorrow. Don’t think he’d be up right now. I’ll see if he’s looking for somebody right now. Then we’ll go from there.”

  “Sounds good,” Sean said. He wrote his cell phone number down on a napkin and gave it to Pete. They finished their beers and walked outside. Pete got into an old Chevy truck parked in front of the bar. “Give you a lift?” he asked Sean.

  “I think I’ll walk and clear my head. It’s just down the road.”

  “Suit yourself. Talk to you tomorrow.” Sean watched the lights on Pete’s truck for a long way down the road before heading toward the hostel. The night was cool but not too cold and he enjoyed the walk. He decided that even if he didn’t get a job working on lumber—and what did he know about that anyway?—he was going to stick around a while. He would definitely have to get out of the hostel, though.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sean had breakfast at Daisy’s Diner, a place he had spotted when he was going to the bar last night. He ordered coffee and a ham and cheese omelet with pancakes on the side. He was through overeating at the buffet, but it had been fun while it lasted. His phone rang while his mouth was full of pancakes and he quickly washed them down with orange juice before answering.

  “You wanna ride over to Marty’s this morning? He said he could use somebody right now.” Pete said he’d pick Sean up at the hostel. When Pete pulled up in his truck, it looked a lot older in the daylight. Sean put his backpack in the bed and got in the truck. Pete took a right down a county road. Trees met the road in a lot of places, but there were areas with pastures and meadows and some farmhouses and barns here and there. Pete took another turn and the road ascended a hill and trees took over the landscape. A couple of miles down the road, Pete slowed and turned at a sign that said Rutherford Timberland and Mill.

  They drove past a farmhouse and went further down the road until Pete stopped at a large industrial looking building. Sean could hear the buzzing and whining of what he assumed were saws. Inside, several men were working pieces of lumber, stripping bark, sanding, planing. A lot was going on at once and Sean tried to imagine himself at one of the machines. He couldn’t.

  A gray-haired man walked out from an enclosed room to the side. He extended his hand to Pete, then turned to Sean, shaking his hand. “Marty Rutherford,” he said.

  “Sean O’Connell,” Sean said.

  “Sean, Marty says you’re willing to do some hard work. You ever done anything like this before?”

  “No, sir,” Sean said. “I’ve been a banker.” He looked over at Pete, who suppressed a laugh.

  “A banker!” Marty said, but he didn’t laugh. “I’ve had all types come to work for me off the trail. Once, it was a college history professor on sabbatical, another time it was an accountant. Right now, got a young one, just graduated from c
ollege and hiked the trail as a present to himself. He lives in one of the cabins.”

  “Cabins?” Sean said.

  “I’ve got a couple of small cabins near my house and I let the hikers stay there while they work for me. It’s all part of the experience they’re after. Let’s just say, I consider it giving something back, paying it forward. Something like that.”

  Sean liked Marty. He was a plain-spoken man who clearly had a strong sense of how he wanted to live in the world.

  “So, I guess it doesn’t matter that I don’t have any timber experience then,” Sean said.

  “Oh, no. We’ll get you trained. I’ve got several fellows who’ve been working for me for years who do a good job with that. They like it.”

  Marty led Pete and Sean to each workstation where he introduced Sean to Gabe, a man who looked to be in his late fifties with a gray ponytail and mustache, Benny, a younger guy maybe a little older than Sean who was clean cut and clean shaven, and Slim, a hefty guy who looked like the quintessential lumberjack.

  “Jesse, the other hiker, is working in the woods today cutting trees with Mario and Scotty. You’ll meet them tomorrow. Well, I guess you’ll meet Jesse tonight. If you want the job, that is. I pay twelve dollars an hour and deduct three hundred a month for room and board. Three squares a day up at the house.”

  Hell, Sean would work there for just the room and board. He had the money from the house sale that would last him a while. But he nodded his head. “That sounds fine,” he said. They followed Marty up to the house they had passed by earlier. It had a meadow behind it with a large garden area. On the edge of the woods stood two log cabins about a hundred feet from each other.

  “That’s where you’ll be staying,” Marty said motioning to the cabin furthest from the house. The walked onto a back porch and Marty opened a door. The smell of cinnamon wafted toward Sean as soon as they stepped in. A plump woman with a gray bun turned around from the stove and greeted them with a smile.

  “Honey,” Marty said, “this is Sean, our new hiker.”

  Mrs. Rutherford was wearing an apron similar to the one Marla had worn that night she made the chicken dinner. For a second, another memory of Marla with her legs wrapped tight around him as they made love came into Sean’s mind, but he pushed it away. Mrs. Rutherford took Sean’s hand in hers, welcoming him. Her hands were soft like velvet.

  “You can wash your clothes here,” she said leading Sean to a hallway off the kitchen with a washer and dryer against the walls. “I serve breakfast at seven, lunch at noon sharp, and supper at six.”

  For a moment everything felt so surreal to Sean. How did he get here, to this farmhouse in North Carolina? Was he really going to be cutting down trees? But he smiled at Mrs. Rutherford and thanked her.

  “Come back for lunch after you get settled,” she said as they went out the back door.

  “I’ve got to get back to the mill,” Marty said getting in his truck. “I’ll see you at lunch, Sean.” He waved goodbye as he drove away. Sean reached into the bed of Pete’s truck and got his backpack. Did he really carry that thing for sixty miles? He shook Pete’s hand. “Thanks, Pete. I appreciate your help.”

  “It’s nothing,” Pete said. “I’ll see you at Billy’s. I go there several nights a week and so will you.”

  Sean followed a grassy path that led to the cabins. They were made of square logs and had chinking in between them, like Abraham Lincoln’s childhood cabin. There was a wide front porch that ran the length of the cabin, with a door in the center. Sean opened it—there was no lock—and walked inside. It was one large room, with a fireplace surrounded by stones on the right wall and a small kitchen area in the far right corner. The left corner held an enclosed bathroom with a shower and in front of that was a bed with a chest of drawers and a small closet nearby.

  Sean had forgotten to ask about cell service, but when he checked his phone, it was working. He was going to have to make some hard phone calls, but he wanted to put them off for a while. The twin bed was made up and Sean leaned back against the pillow. He woke up a couple of hours later and saw it was almost noon. He didn’t know how he could be starving after the huge breakfast he had eaten, but he was.

  He took the path back up to the farmhouse and knocked on the kitchen door. “Come in,” Mrs. Rutherford called. “You don’t have to knock, honey,” she said when he walked in. Men surrounded a huge rectangular table. Sean recognized Marty and the three he had met that morning. What were their names? Three other men that Sean had not met were also around the table. Jesse, the young college grad, and Scotty and Mario. All together, eight men sat at the table. Mrs. Rutherford ladled chicken noodle soup into their bowls and put a large plate of sandwiches in the middle of the table. Everyone began eating, grabbing sandwiches, slurping soup. They talked about the work day, and Sean felt a little out of place and embarrassed. The new guy.

  Sean looked at a small table in the corner of the kitchen and saw a vase with red roses and a heart shaped balloon that said Happy Valentine’s Day on it. He stopped slurping his soup as the realization dawned on him. “Is it Valentine’s Day?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is,” Mrs. Rutherford said. Sean hadn’t kept up with the days and now he was going to have to call Marla on Valentine’s Day and give her the bad news. He wasn’t coming back any time soon.

  “Hey, Banker,” Scotty said. “Do you want to go back with us after lunch? We’re cutting two more trees today. You may as well get started.”

  Sean looked at Marty, who nodded at him. “I think that sounds like a good plan,” he said. “Get your feet wet.”

  Sean hadn’t been prepared to start working that day, but that’s what was happening, prepared or not. He got in a pick-up truck with Mario and Jesse, and Scotty followed in his truck. Country music blared from the speakers as they drove down the road and turned off on a side road.

  “How long have you been here?” Sean asked Jesse as he followed him up a path in the woods. Jesse had his blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and he was bearded, the look of the hiker. “I’ve been here four months,” he said. “It’s weird at first, but then you figure out what you’re doing and it’s all right.”

  They stopped walking and Sean saw some sort of motorized contraption with chains and several chainsaws. Three pine trees were on the ground a few hundred feet away. Scotty handed Sean a hardhat and safety goggles. “Let’s get this one first,” Mario said to Scotty. “Sean, watch what we do here. We’re going to decide where we want the tree to fall, which is that way,” he said motioning in the direction that was on an incline. “Now watch what I’m doing. I’m going to make a notch in the tree on the side I want it to fall on. Then I’m going to go to the other side and cut it.”

  Sean watched as Mario and Scotty worked with precision, making the cuts, making the tree fall where they wanted it to go. “Timber!” Mario yelled as the tree fell and they all ran away from the tree. “It can pop back up on you if a limb hits just right,” Mario explained after the tree was down. “I knew a guy who got killed instantly when that happened. That was a long time ago and he didn’t know what he was doing.” He looked at Sean. “You pay attention to what we say and do and you’ll be all right.”

  Scotty and Mario cut the other tree. Five trees were down that day and now they needed their limbs trimmed before they could haul them to the yard. Sean watched from the sidelines, feeling useless, as the three men trimmed the limbs. “Gotta be careful when you’re trimming and cut it in the right place to make sure it don’t pop back on you,” Mario said. Sean was paying attention. He didn’t intend to get killed out there.

  “Let’s call it a day,” Mario said. “We’ll haul these out tomorrow.”

  Sean looked at his phone. It was almost five o’clock. They piled back into the trucks and Mario dropped Sean and Jesse off on the road when they neared the cabins. Sean was bone tired, even though he had just watched. He and Jesse went into their respective cabins and Sean headed straight for the shower. H
e could still smell the pine sap as he washed his hair. He walked out of his cabin and Jesse was waiting for him. Together, they walked up to the farmhouse where they feasted on meatloaf and mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas.

  Back at the cabin, Sean sat on the old sofa and called his mother first. That would be the easier call. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he told her. “You too, son,” she said. “Where are you?”

  Sean explained where he was and what he was doing.

  “That sounds dangerous,” his mother said. “Very dangerous. I don’t like the sound of it.”

  “I know, Mom,” Sean said. “But there’s all this safety stuff on the saws and we wear hardhats and goggles. Plus, Mario and Scotty are very experienced. It’s okay.” The conversation was a rehearsal for the call he’d have to make to Marla. When they hung up, Sean steeled himself for the call to Marla.

  “Sean!” Marla said when she answered.

  “Hey, Marla,” he said. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “You too,” she said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in a place called McGinley’s Gap. I came over from the trail and it looks like I’ll be here for a while.”

  “What do you mean?” Marla asked sharply. “What do you mean a while?”

  He explained it to her as he had to his mother. She said it sounded dangerous, as his mother had. And then she asked him why. Why was he staying there doing that?

  “I didn’t plan on it obviously,” he said. “I just went off the trail and realized that I’m not through yet. Not through with what I need to do to be free and clear. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Silence. “Marla? You there?”

  “I’m here,” she said. “I’m trying to understand. I really am. It’s just that I miss you so much, but I guess that’s not enough.”

  “Part of me wants to get out of here and get back to you right now,” Sean said. “But I know it’ll be better in the long run if I don’t do that.”