Jason Lane's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

The supervisor's questions took three days. By the time Jason drove to Ren's land, the sky was low and gray. He had not called. He had not come. He knew what that looked like. The road met a snowbound wooden gate, hinges rusted shut. He had promised to hang new ones a week ago. Snow had piled against the boards. No tire tracks but hers, going in and out, in and out. He climbed over. In the pasture stood a half-built pen, tall fences and a slanted roof braced against the wind. Ren was alone on a ladder, driving nails. Beside her, a flat slate stone was carved with paw prints — a tally, he realized. Dozens. Sixty. She climbed down when she saw him. She did not smile. "You didn't come," she said. "I waited two days. Then I stopped waiting." "I know." Jason picked up a hammer. "I'm here now. Tell me where the next board goes." Ren looked at him a long moment. Then she pointed. He started nailing. They worked until dark, side by side, and neither of them said the word sorry. They didn't have to. The pen got its roof.