Nine
“Aaron and Skye to be hitting it off well,” Henry remarked as he caught the sixteen-inch-long block of beetle-killed lodgepole pine Nick tossed to him. He dropped it smoothly on top of the row of other logs already stacked neatly in the bed of his pickup. “Is it just me or does he seem a little lost without her here?”
“They do indeed, and it’s not just you who’s seeing that. She’s supposed to be back from Washington the day after tomorrow, and I know he’s looking forward to it.” Nick tossed another log and another in an effortless rhythm. “I’m inclined to say your hope for them is well placed. If nothing else, she’s distracting him from thinking about Jerry Mackey.”
“That’s a damned good thing. Mackey’s still keeping his distance?”
“Sounds like it. Aaron said Pearl bumped into him
