Chapter 160 Chapter 160

Chapter 160 Chapter 160
Talon’s POV

"It looks amazing, Talon," she said, reaching up to touch my jaw before looking back at the frame. "You can tell how much work you put into sanding those rails."
"Marcus helped me run the long boards through the planer on Thursday," I said, taking her hand as we walked over to take a closer look at the frame. "Speaking of Marcus, did he come up to the house earlier?"

"Yeah, he stopped by the mudroom while you were still out in the barn," she said, pointing over to the low dresser near the closet. "He dropped off a small wooden rattle he carved out of a leftover block of cherry wood from the shop." I walked over, picked up the smooth cherry wood rattle, and turned it over in my hand. "Marcus is getting pretty handy with the lathe. Next thing you know, he'll be trying to teach the kid how to drive the tractor before he can even walk."

"Given how much time Marcus spends down in the machinery shed and is focused on the lad, I think his Tactical security days are over, I fully expect him to build a miniature side-by-side trailer by next spring," she said with a laugh, her dark eyes bright.
"I wouldn't put it past him, I believe his tactical days are over too" I grinned, setting the rattle back on the dresser. "Did he say if the hardware store delivered that extra gallon of eco-friendly wood seal this morning?"

"Yeah, Mr. Gable brought it up in his truck around seven-thirty," she said, leaning her hip against the dresser. "He left the container on the back porch. He said to tell you that if you need a hand lifting the heavy dresser frame into place later, he can come back over after he finishes checking his own fence line."
"I can handle the frame," I said, "but I'll probably go down to his place tomorrow to help him haul those extra hay bales into his storage loft."

"He'd appreciate that," she said with a nod. "Martha also sent over two loaves of fresh banana bread. She told me to make sure you actually take a break from sanding today to eat something."
"Martha's always looking out for us," I smiled.

For the rest of the morning, we worked together on setting up the rest of the room. We assembled the low wooden changing table, organized the small stacks of folded baby clothes into the dresser drawers, and sorted through the extra sheets and blankets Martha had sewn for us over the summer. Around noon, Marcus came up the stairs carrying a heavy wooden wall shelf we had cut yesterday. He set his tool bag by the door and gave a quick nod.

"Got the mounting brackets ready for the wall shelf, boss," Marcus said, pulling a level and a cordless drill out of his pouch. "Where do you want this anchored?"
"Let me check the wall studs," I said, walking over to the space between the window and the closet with a stud finder. "Right here, about four feet off the ground. We want to make sure it's anchored straight into the timber framing so it doesn't sag."

"You got it," Marcus said, lining up the metal brackets while I held the wooden shelf level against the drywall. He drove the long lag screws straight into the wood studs with the drill, making a solid noise as they tightened down.
"That's not going anywhere," Marcus said, giving the shelf a firm tug to test the weight limit.

"Perfect," Kira said from the doorway, holding two cold glasses of lemonade. "Thanks, Marcus. You want a glass before you head back down to the barn?"
"Thanks, Kira, but I need to go meet Mr. Gable down at the south access road," Marcus said, taking his tool bag off the floor. "We're going to clear out those dead branches near the culvert before the afternoon rain starts up."

"Tell Mr. Gable I'll be down around two to check the drainage pipe with him," I called out as Marcus walked down the hallway. "Will do, boss," Marcus shouted back before the mudroom door shut quietly downstairs. By three in the afternoon, the rain started coming down softly against the glass, making a quiet pattern against the windowpane. The room was finished, it was set up and most importantly it was ready. Kira and I walked back down to the main floor, made a fresh pot of coffee, and carried our mugs out to the covered front porch to sit on the old wooden bench.

The autumn air smelled clean, wet, and cool, carrying the scent of damp pine needles from the ridge down into the valley. I set my mug down on the side table, reached over, and pulled her in close against my side. She leaned her head against my shoulder, resting her hand over mine while we watched the rain fall over the front pasture and the timber barn down the hill.

"Everything's ready," she said softly, looking out at the yard.
"It really is," I said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head as the afternoon rain settled over the land.

Kira's POV

By the second week of October, the leaves across the Oakridge hills had hit their peak, turning the trees around the property into deep shades of red, orange, and yellow. The mornings were cold enough to leave a layer of white frost over the raised garden beds until mid-morning, when the sun finally burned it off. The air smelled like damp earth, pine needles, and sweet apple cider from Mr. Gable’s press down the road.

I was sitting down at my heavy wooden desk in the lab barn around ten o'clock, finishing up the monthly soil testing report for our lower field.
My laptop held the final spreadsheet summary for the season. The tests showed that our soil balance was completely restored, the nitrogen levels were right where they needed to be, and the land was fully set for the winter freeze.

I saved the master document and backed up the files to my drive. I sat back in my chair, resting my hands over my bump. Inside, our baby gave a soft, sudden kick against my palm.
"I hear you, little guy," I said quietly, smiling as I rubbed my hand over my belly. "Work's done for the season."
The side door to the lab swung open with a quiet creak, and Talon stepped inside out of the cool morning air. He was wearing a navy thermal shirt, canvas work pants, and his work boots. He held a small silver tray with a cup of hot chamomile tea for me and a plain black coffee for himself.

"Finished up the testing logs?" he asked, setting the tray down on the edge of my workbench before leaning down to kiss my cheek.
"Soil data is officially logged," I said, taking the mug of tea with both hands to warm up my fingers. "Which means my lab work is done until spring planting. No more field testing or spreadsheets for the next few months."