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

“Hey . . .” Hector scratched the back of his neck. “Could you maybe take some shots of the cabin and, you know, anything that’d attract people to this area? I could use some more photos for the website. Eris thinks brochures are still the way to go.”

“Yeah.” Like those sunsets and rain clouds I had just been thinking of. Hell, any shots with Savvy and Rina would attract more than a few male campers. I should’ve thought of it earlier. “I’d love to. I didn’t want to assume . . .” That was a lie. A total bullshit lie. Instead of using a pseudonym, I should just call myself the Shy Photographer. My tagline would be I’m too much of a pussy to actually take photographs, but I couldn’t sell them anyway.

“I get it. Totally. I’ll pay.”

“Are you kidding? Consider it part of settling my tab.”

“No tab. I couldn’t have done all this without you. I wasn’t sure about Rina, but she’s been a rock star. And you and Savvy have been such a help. I don’t know how long you’re staying, but we’ll take you for as long as we can.”

He might think differently after he had a baby. With a booked-up summer, word would spread and he’d start taking reservations for cross-country skiers and winter adventurists who’d want to explore the mountains. Then he could hire his own help, help who had a home to go to after a day of work.

I left him to finish the frame. He vibrated with excitement, and swinging the hammer would help burn it off.

I walked down the path toward the main house, which served as headquarters, then angled off to the cabin that needed to be cleaned for next week. I didn’t bring tools. I’d find out what it needed first.

That was me. Aspiring photographer, handyman around the world.

I stepped inside, letting the door creak shut behind me. Faint mustiness greeted my nose. I let my eyes adjust. The cabins had rudimentary electricity that could be spotty. With the sun shining today, I wouldn’t need more than a flashlight.

I walked through the space, inspecting both the floor and the roof. Delicate footsteps displaced the dust on the floor. Must’ve been from Savvy’s walk-through. The cabin wouldn’t need more than a good dusting and mopping. The mousetraps in the corners were clear, so that was a good sign. I went back to the light switch and flipped it on to make sure everything worked. Same with the faucets, all the while looking for the leak that Savvy thought she’d seen.

Hector hadn’t been lying to the campers. The cabins were sparse. They were a shelter and little more. Any cooking needed to be done via campfire and the pressure of the well didn’t lend to more than spit baths and light dish rinsing.

I hadn’t grabbed my camera, but I took out my phone. A few demo pics would tell me if there was any point in taking photos of the insides of the cabin. Rustic attracted just as many customers as plush.

A message I hadn’t noticed before made me pause. Working cattle next week. You in?

It was the same message I got every year around this time.

Footsteps resounded on the floors and echoed off the walls. “Hey. Looking for the leak?”

Savvy’s hair was up in its standard messy bun. The sunburn she’d suffered after her first week out in the sun had faded to an even tan, but her cheeks were red from the rising temperature and uphill climb to the cabin. She was in leggings today. She’d taken to wearing her one pair of jeans when we worked outdoors, but since she was cleaning today, the leggings made sense. She’d adapted quicker than I thought she would. She was thriving.

“I haven’t spotted it yet.”

She led me to the second room that wasn’t quite a bathroom but was too small to be a bedroom so it was just an extra room that Hector had installed the sink and showerhead in. Pointing to a corner just under the roof, she said, “There. Is that a water stain?”

I walked around the room. Where the leak was didn’t make sense until I thought about what was outside the cabin. “The old bathroom.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What old bathroom?”

I chuckled and led her outside. The grass surrounding the base of the building muffled our footsteps. On the wall that had the water spot on the inside was an old wooden partition that Hector and I hadn’t removed yet.

I pointed to the triangular hole in wood planks that made up what would’ve otherwise looked like a deck. “Bathroom.”

She scrutinized it. “I don’t get how— Oh!” Inching toward it, she bent to look down the hole. “Is it . . .”

“This place had been abandoned for years before Hector bought it. This was an original cabin so it had an old-school toilet.” I gestured to the hole. “He filled in the reservoirs with dirt but didn’t tear down the partitions. I should do that though, before we have campers thinking it’s still good. I think it’s where that partition is nailed into the wall that’s caused the leak. I can seal it up.”

“He must’ve put a lot of money into this place to get plumbing and electricity.”

“He’s taken it in stages, but yeah, he worked hard and saved up. I’m glad I could be a part of it.”

Her expression went soft. “It’s really taking off, and perfect timing with the baby.”

Hector was older than me, and he’d had his shit together for much longer. I’d lucked into a marriage and was waiting out nine-plus more months until I could collect a shitload of money—that I had no idea what to do with. I was broke and aimless. I didn’t want to be rich and aimless.

My phone was still in my hand. I didn’t have to see the message, I knew who it was based on the time of year.

“Not important?”

Was it obvious I was ignoring the message? I tucked the phone back into my pocket. “Dawson.