Chapter 118 Part 118
Asher
The renovations at The Lansing House kept him busy and exhausted. Winchester proved his worth, and they started by removing the entire porch. They built in more support brackets before laying down the new planks and nailing them down. The planks had been sanded and treated the week before, and Asher found joy in the work he was doing. His father had asked him what he was going to do with the property, but Asher hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe one day, the house would be a safe haven for someone else looking to start over. He liked that idea. A contractor had done the major work in the kitchen, replacing the cupboards and the countertops. Asher had ordered a new stove and fridge, but the delivery would only take place once he had a tenant.
They stripped the carpet from the living room and replaced it, painted the walls, and replaced all the windows with new thicker ones. It would also keep the heat in and save on utilities in the winter.
The same contractor had ripped apart the two bathrooms, and now, they were modern and sleek. Ceilings were replaced and painted, and Asher tried to restore the wooden floors in both bedrooms. It was a tedious, tiresome job, but the original flooring was beautiful beneath the ratty carpets. He spent weeks with Winchester in that house, and he knew the end result was going to be damn near perfect.
“Have you guys decided on a name for the baby yet?” Asher asked him one afternoon as they sat in the kitchen drinking coffee.
“Not really, Eden says she’ll know the perfect name when she sees it or hears it,” he replied.
Asher chuckled. “Eden can be stubborn, but she does love you, McRoy.”
“I’m lucky she gave me another chance.”
“Yeah, you can be lucky. Our friendship wouldn’t have survived this, if you had married that other woman, and left Eden to deal with this on her own. I would’ve made your life miserable.”
Winchester grinned. “If she’d just talked to me from the beginning, there never would’ve been an engagement. She had this notion in her head that she didn’t want me to give up my life. What she doesn’t know is that she is my life.”
“Do you remember when we were 11 or 12, we used to talk about raising meat sheep?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“The Shropshire is a dual yield sheep. Wool and meat. The land running adjacent to this property is up for sale. We could buy it, build winter shelters for the sheep, and let them graze the land.”
“Have you run the numbers?”
“No. I can design the layout of what we’d need, but you’re the numbers man. Think about it, it could be a new start for you,” Asher said.
“I like the dual yield idea. There’s a big market for both, but you do realize there are like 20 sheep ranches just in this county, alone?”
“And people like to eat meat,” Asher said.
“True. Let me make a few calls. You can start on the layout and design, and I can work out how much we’re going to need to finance this little operation.”
“If we have a good business plan, we’ll get the loan from the bank. The first year will be rough, but I believe we can make it. You up for some hard work, McRoy?”
“Are you doing all this so you don’t have to think of Emerson?”
“Yes and no. I work myself into exhaustion so I can sleep at night, the rest I’m doing for myself.”
“I get it, have you tried a little bourbon before bed?”
Asher chuckled. “I’d turn into a raging alcoholic with PTSD and access to a rifle. Do you really think that’s such a good idea?”
Winchester laughed. “You paint such vivid images. Let’s get to work then.”
Asher grinned, emptied his cup of coffee, and got back to work. The only thing that was left to do was to paint the hallway and the foyer. Asher would wait until spring to paint the outside of the house.
He was looking forward to going into business with Winchester. He had a lot of contacts and it was something else that would keep him busy. They hadn’t had snow in over a week, and Asher already knew what he was going to do the next day.
That afternoon, Winchester helped him pack up all the tools and paint cans. They were finally done with the house. He locked the front door behind him and felt a sense of accomplishment.
The next morning, Asher was up at 4 a.m., and completed all his chores. He packed food, water, and a few essentials into a backpack, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.
Asher locked his front door behind him, left the key under the ceramic chicken, and pulled his gloves on. He started across the open field, headed toward the woods. He needed the time alone, the fresh air, the cold, and even the two-hour hike up to the cabin to clear his mind.
He could already picture the peaceful bliss of being surrounded by trees and snow, being alone, and finally letting his thoughts go. The email to Emerson still sat in his draft box, and he knew he’d never send it. In that email, he told her everything. It was the story of his life, but one she’d never read.
The snow was still thick, and the air was freezing. A weekend at the cabin, all alone, was exactly what he needed. As he neared the cabin, he smelled the smoke first, and his rifle was in his hands instantly as he moved to the cabin’s door slowly.
He could hear faint voices through the door and he relaxed a little bit. Someone must have gotten lost and found the cabin. He still didn’t like it, because he’d planned on being there alone, but if whoever was inside needed help, he’d give it.
The rifle was still in his hands, but aimed at the ground now when he swung the front door open. Two pairs of startled eyes looked up at him from the floor where they had made one bed with the two blankets they always kept there.
“We’re sorry, we’re sorry,” the boy said, and held his hands up in surrender.