“When I told Aisling about the sawmill, she promised to come help me if she can play in there and make a workshop. I thought I could use a few of the bedrooms or cabins for other areas of focus. Robotics for sure, but I don’t know what else.”
“You’ll need to get those turbines up and working soon.”
She nodded. “I’ve got two to start, but I may need to add more at some point. I want to turn one of the living spaces on the main floor into a gym with workout equipment and mat space for martial arts. I don’t know if the floor is strong enough.”
“Will Aisling be able to help?”
“I hope so. There are a lot of possibilities for learning on a piece of land this big. And I want to make sure we impact the wildlife as little as possible.”
“You’ll get it right. Like you said, lots of possibilities.”
Her head turned sharply toward him, but a quick look showed she was thinking hard and not actually seeing him.
“I think naming it after the lake makes the most sense. Midnight Lake. Midnight Lodge. I wish I could use Döva, but I associate that with my Sacramento lab.”
“Döva?”
“It’s the Hopi word for possibilities.”
Sam knew Tansy and Joe were a mix of Ojibwe and Hopi. Her heritage was important to them both. Both sets of grandparents had been strong environmentalists. Parents too. Their passion for taking care of the planet and all of its inhabitants had been passed down.
“I’ve been calling this place Midnight Lake in my head, so I’d like to stick with that. It’s easier.”
Sam nodded. It worked.
Sam pulled into the driveway and Tansy hopped out to unlock the gate and relock it after he pulled through.
He pulled around the back of the barn because they hadn’t found a better place for the vehicles. Tansy had put the charging station here because it was a clear spot out of sight of the road.
The tree coverage wasn’t great, but Sam figured the damage had been done if the plane had been scouting the property.
Tansy moved to the trunk where they’d stacked the groceries. She’d brought along backpacks and reusable bags for the trek back.
“You’ve been doing the two-mile trek with everything you’ve bought for four months?”
She shrugged. “I have a bike. I used it for the solar panels.”
He’d forgotten about those. “Do I want to know how many of those you hauled?”
Another shrug. “Three or four dozen. Once I figured out a system, it was fine.”
Then she’d built a scaffold, improvised a pulley system, hauled the panels up three flights, and installed them. Alone.
Sam moved so that when she turned, he was able to cage her between him and the trunk. He placed his hands on either side of her and leaned in. “You’re pretty impressive, Tansy.”
That made her skin flush, and she laughed. “Hardly.”
He leaned in further and her eyes widened. Her gaze tracked from his mouth to his eyes and back. Her eyes sparkled.
Sam closed the distance and brushed his lips over hers. Softly. Thoroughly.
Tansy dropped the bags she had picked up and ran her hands over his chest and arms. Even through his jacket, her touch had his muscles flexing. Wanting to show off for this woman.
He’d never felt like a caveman before, but Tansy brought it out in him. Maybe because she was the most independent creature he’d ever met.
And he wanted her to need him.
Tansy hummed into the kiss and Sam hauled her up into his arms, leaving her toes dangling above the snow.