King's Treasure (Oil Kings Book 3) by Marie Johnston (great novels .TXT) 📗

technique, and it took me a few moments to get the hang of it without binding the blade.

“Dammit.” I readjusted and kept sawing. My triceps burned. I dropped to my knees. This was taking forever. Xander and all his muscles could cut a limb in a few swipes. It took me twenty to make a decent groove.

Sweat dripped down my forehead. Ick.

I stripped another branch. Each time I broke through the limb and it dropped to the ground I wanted to pump my fist in the air. But since neither Rina nor Xander celebrated after finishing part of a task, or even the task itself, I refrained.

I made a neat pile of branches that I’d have to haul to the wood pile later and went back to dragging the heavy limb. It was no longer as heavy and had fewer knobs to snag things on. At the log pile, Xander was chopping the limbs Rina and I cleared into similar bits that’d fit into a fireplace.

“Each cabin is going to have a firepit?” I knew the answer but I wanted to linger by Xander—and take a breather before I carried all the branches I’d cut and then gather even more.

“Yep, but Eris and Hector might go through a lot of this during the winter.”

It was the end of May and they were stocking up for winter? Mother just paid the electric bill and there was my fire.

“What about the wood chips?” I asked.

“Those will get used for landscaping.”

Hector didn’t have a wood chipper, but he was supposed to pick one up in town. We’d have it for a day, maybe two, and that was why we were working overtime to clear the trees that Hector wanted to use for expanding his hiking and camping business.

Since a peacekeeping mission after the war in Kosovo had been the reason Hector was in the country when he’d met his wife, he knew how it had damaged the tourism economy. He’d fallen in love with the country as much as the woman, and his goal was to do his part to help it heal.

I was helping too. Pride welled in my belly, much stronger than the day Chief had told me good job for landing an oil tycoon’s kid.

Yeah. This pride was better. Stronger. Like me. In that moment, the wobbly muscles I’d been building the last two weeks seemed like they could carry the wood chipper on the narrow road from town instead of waiting for a truck to haul it in.

There was an extra spring in my step as I went back to the branch pile. I arranged them in my arms and turned. Rina was eyeing a stack that I’d have to make another trip for. I’d been so preoccupied I hadn’t heard her tromping through the grass.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

My glowing bubble burst and I huffed out a hard laugh. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Her mouth pursed like she was inspecting a new bug we hadn’t come across before, and we came across a lot of bugs and spiders. I’d had to readjust my fight or flight response to better ignore the less glamorous parts of nature.

“I don’t hate you.” Her English had really improved in the last few weeks, and it’d already been good when I arrived. My presence had made her more determined to get every nuance of the accent right. That I intimidated her that much made me feel better. “I get sick of you.”

My brows drew together.

“Girls . . . like you,” she amended, nailing the phrase she must’ve wanted.

Okay, that was less personal. I adjusted my load to keep a branch from poking me in the shoulder. “Like me how?”

“Everyone . . .” She waved her hand around. “Does things for you. You don’t work hard. Don’t know how.”

“I work hard, just not like this.” My words rang false. I hadn’t worried about food or money until college. I hadn’t grown up with many chores. My parents were alive and wouldn’t let me suffer. Chief had been ready with a job when I’d lost mine.

“I bet in America, you are surrounded by people who do it all for you.”

My mouth dropped open. How could she be so . . . accurate? So incredibly on the nose that it hurt to hear? Rina was obviously used to working hard, doing this for herself, and she was helping her sister live her dream. Was it because she didn’t want to do it for herself? Or because she didn’t have other options? Rina could be here, because like me, she had no other options, no job advantages, no money to make her dreams happen, and no one to pave the way to make it easier.

We were so much alike, only she’d had to work her ass off to reach the place I’d just decided to fly to on a whim. Without Xander here, I’d have landed on my ass. Unlike him, I didn’t have friends and contacts all over the world. I didn’t know how to work with my hands and my body for a living and I didn’t have the skills to do it.

“God, you’re right,” I said and laughter bubbled out.

She eyed me warily.

“You’re so right and that’s why you bugged the hell out of me.” She lifted a brow, but I continued. “You didn’t do a damn thing to help me and I’m not used to that. I’m a pampered princess.”

My parents had safety nets up all over the place. If they didn’t, my sisters wouldn’t let me go homeless. Then there were my friends. Others who’d been raised like me. And Brady, enabler extraordinaire. His motto was take the easy way out and he’d encouraged me to rely on my parents.

“You are a pampered princess?” she said, her accent thickening around “pampered.”

“It means spoiled.”

Understanding lit her eyes. “Yes, rotten.” Her eyes twinkled and I knew she wasn’t messing up that meaning.

“Sometimes rotten, mostly helpless.”

Her mouth quirked in a smile and I couldn’t hold back my grin.

“Everything all right over