Finding Paradise by Barbara Dunlop

Author:Barbara Dunlop [Dunlop, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

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* * *

In Silas and Mia’s driveway, Cobra heard the whine of a chainsaw. He caught movement beyond the house and saw Silas step back from a pile of logs, his bright orange saw dangling from his left hand.

Silas gave him a wave, and Cobra walked that way.

“You look busy,” Cobra said as he approached.

Silas shut off the saw. “Figured I better stack up a few cords before the snow flies.”

“Did you put in a wood boiler?” Cobra looked around. He didn’t remember seeing one while the house had been under construction.

“This is for the fireplace,” Silas said.

“Need a hand?” Cobra asked, seeing the gas-powered wood splitter set up nearby and spotting an extra pair of work gloves on the open tailgate of Silas’s truck.

“Sure,” Silas said. “You here to help me work?”

Cobra cocked his head toward the house. “Marnie and I are going shooting, but I’ve got time.”

It was an unwritten code in Paradise that you didn’t walk away from neighborly work without an ironclad excuse. It was a good code, and the target practice could wait a while longer.

“They’re inside—reading a script or starting a film company or something.”

Cobra rolled up the sleeves of his heavy cotton work shirt, not surprised to hear Marnie was working hard.

“When I left, they were debating company names,” Silas said. “Also, if it should be a single purpose LLC or an umbrella corporation to take on multiple films.”

“They sound serious.”

“They’re a force of nature, those two. It’s impressive.”

Cobra pulled on the gloves, nodding to the substantial woodpile. “Unlike you, you slacker.”

Silas grinned and pulled on the chainsaw starter, revving it up. “At least we get to have some fun.”

Cobra didn’t disagree with that. It was good to be outside, breathing the fresh air, working their muscles, the blood coursing through their veins. And there was something therapeutic about watching a woodpile grow high, knowing it would keep you warm in the winter. He’d much rather do that than stare at some legal document.

He started up the splitter, set the first round of firewood in the cradle and pulled the lever to move the wedge through the center. As Silas bucked the logs into lengths, Cobra split and stacked them under the makeshift shed. Between the two of them, they got through the whole pile in less than an hour.

“Beer?” Silas asked, wiping the sweat from his brow and stepping back to admire the tightly stacked woodpile.

“Absolutely,” Cobra answered, shutting down the splitter and wheeling it under a corner of the woodshed to keep it out of the weather.

Silas put his saw in the case and moved his truck into the garage.

Cobra brushed the sawdust from his clothes as he walked to the house. He headed in through the side door to the arctic entry to wash up at the deep laundry sink.

Cleaned up, they entered the kitchen where Silas grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge.

Cobra could hear Mia and Marnie talking up in the loft, their voices indistinct.

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