Chapter 7 - The Little River Workshop
As winter deepened into January, Daniel realized that their savings, while sufficient for a quiet life, would not last forever. More importantly, he needed purposeful work that kept him close to home.
In the small town of Cedar Creek, three miles down the mountain road, sat an old mill building along a frozen stream. A handwritten cardboard sign in the window read: Carpenter Wanted / Shop Share Available.
The shop belonged to Thomas, a sixty-year-old master cabinetmaker with hands like oak bark and eyes that missed nothing. When Daniel walked in, smelling of pine and asking about work, Thomas eyed him skeptically.
"You've got city hands," Thomas observed, blowing saw dust off a newly turned table leg. "Clean palms, manicured nails. What do you know about joinery?"
"Nothing," Daniel admitted honestly. "I used to manage corporate mergers. I know how to evaluate a balance sheet, negotiate contracts, and read people. But I want to learn how to make something that lasts longer than a quarterly earnings report."
Thomas leaned against his workbench, crossing his arms. "Mergers? You mean firing folks to make stock prices jump?"
"Something like that," Daniel said with quiet remorse. "I walked away from it."
Thomas studied him for a long minute. He looked at Daniel's worn boots, the frayed cuff of his jacket, and the steady humility in his posture.
"Starts at minimum wage," Thomas grunted. "You sweep, you carry lumber, you stack kiln-dried oak, and you keep your mouth shut while the saws are running. If you don't chop your fingers off in two weeks, maybe I'll teach you how to cut a dovetail."
"I'll take it," Daniel said without hesitation.
When Daniel returned to the cottage that afternoon with sawdust in his hair and the scent of raw timber on his clothes, Lily ran to him, giggling as she brushed the cedar shavings from his collar.
May you like
"You smell like trees, Daddy!"
"I work with trees now, Lily-bug," Daniel smiled, lifting her up. "Real, honest trees."
