#goldmining

Nothing had really happened between the two of you. It wasn’t like you really flirted with each other or had much physical contact aside from the ATV ride. 

There wasn’t a slow-blooming relationship there…right? 

You brushed the thoughts off as you stepped into the mess hall. Glancing over at the table where the guys usually are, you noticed Parker was already there and laughing with Mitch and Chris. 

Even through all the noise in the mess hall, you could still hear his laughter over all of it. 

While you looked between them, Parker looked up at you. His smile slowly faded into his normal boss face, and he looked away. 

You noticed. 

After getting your tray of mediocre dinner, you saw the open seat beside Parker. The only open seat at that table. You debated just sitting there and keeping to yourself, only to risk causing more mental irritation. 

For a brief moment, Parker made eye contact with you again. This time, you were the first to look away. You headed over to a different table where some of the guys from the First Pick cut were sitting. Guys you’d never formally met before, but on a mine site, no one really did formalities. 

As you walked to the table, you felt as if you were being watched. Sitting down between some guy you thought was named Darrell and another whose name started with a J, you looked back at your normal table. 

Parker’s eyes on you. Not angry. Not cold. Just watching. 

Your stomach did that annoying little flip again before you quickly looked away and reached for your drink. 

This was getting ridiculous. 

As you started to eat your food, Darrell started talking about the First Pick cut. 

“I feel like we’re moving a whole lotta dirt for not a whole lotta gold,” he grumbled. 

“Not to mention that almost every damn bucket’s got a boulder the size of a refrigerator in it,” a guy named Noah said from across the table. 

“If only we caught the boss’ eye like that new operator in Hell’s Kitchen does,” the guy with the J name mumbled. 

It was like they didn’t notice you sitting down literally between them. Instead of confronting them, you got curious and decided to ride it out. 

“Right? Every time we need him, he’s over there practically undressing her with his eyes,” Darrell said, his voice laced with frustration. 

“Can’t blame him, though,” Noah said. “She is the best and only good-lookin thing on this whole site. If anyone could get her, it’d probably be him.” 

J name scoffed beside you. 

“What you scoffin’ at, Jared?” Darrell asked, shoving food into his mouth. 

Jared. That was his name. 

“She’s probably just here to try and get his money. Show up, impress the boss, he falls in love, boom. She gets all the gold,” he said while pushing food around his plate. 

“I suppose you gotta point,” Noah said. “He does favor her and her opinion over everyone else’s.” 

By this point, you’d had enough. If steam could’ve rolled out your ears, it would’ve filled the whole mess hall with how hot you were. 

Could you snap and curse them all out? Oh, absolutely. Instead, you swallowed it down and stayed somewhat level-headed.

Finishing your last bite, you wiped your mouth with a napkin. 

“Yeah, couldn’t possibly be the fourteen years of experience,” you said flatly, clearly aggravated. 

Silence. 

The uncomfortable kind. 

Noah and Jared both looked at you with wide eyes, and Darrell suddenly became very interested in his mashed potatoes. 

“Uh, we didn’t know…” Jared trailed off. 

“Didn’t say you weren’t good,” Noah muttered. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you spat, anger still coursing through you. 

Nobody really knew what to say after that. 

Across the mess hall, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. 

Parker. 

His jaw was tight again. And judging by the way he was staring at the three men around you, he had definitely heard every word. He shifted in his chair like he was about to stand. Then he stopped himself. 

His hand tightened around the plastic fork hard enough that you thought it might snap. 

Chris said something beside him, but Parker didn’t answer. 

He just kept looking at you. 

The only noise left at the table was the scraping against plates and the distant rumble of generators outside the mess hall. 

Noah looked like he wanted to disappear into his hoodie. 

Jared wouldn’t even look in your direction.

Darrell just stared at his plate. 

Meanwhile, you would still feel Parker’s eyes from across the room. 

Which somehow only annoyed you more. 

With that, you got up and walked to the door. Parker’s eyes shifted to you, and he watched you the whole time. You tossed your tray into the wash bin and left the mess hall. A part of you wished he had stopped you from leaving so soon, but if he had, would you let him? With how upset you were, you weren’t sure how you felt. 

Upset. Frustrated. Disappointed. Disrespected. Betrayed. 

Honestly, the comments themselves shouldn’t have bothered you this much. 

You’d spent fourteen years in equipment and a majority of that in mining. 

Men talking shit about women operators wasn’t exactly groundbreaking behavior. 

But Parker hearing it? 

Parker saying nothing? 

That sat heavier than it should have. 

You kicked the gravel road, hoping it would make you feel better even though you knew it wouldn’t. 

Getting back to your room, you kicked your boots off towards the bed and headed for the shower. Looking at yourself in the mirror, a small thought of regret flashed through your mind - I should’ve never come here. 

After washing away ten layers of dirt and frustration, you were dressed in comfy clothes, lying on your bed, and staring at the ceiling.

The room felt too quiet. 

Outside, the steady hum of generators filled the camp along with the occasional distant laughter from somewhere near the mechanic's tent. 

Normally, the noise blended into the background after a while. 

Tonight, it just made you feel alone. You dragged a hand down your face with a groan. 

“This is so stupid,” you muttered to yourself. 

You had survived this long in mining, surrounded by men exactly like the ones in that mess hall. You’d been doubted before. Talked down to before. Hell, you’d practically built your career on proving people wrong. 

So why did tonight bother you this much? 

You opened up your messages to text your mom, but you saw three little dots appear next to another contact. 

Boss. 

Your heart immediately jumped into your throat. 

One second passed. 

Then another. 

You stared so hard at the screen that your eyes started to hurt. 

And then…nothing. 

The dots disappeared.

No messages ever came through. 

Your stomach sank. 

“Coward,” you muttered softly. 

Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you meant him or yourself. 

Masterlist :)

Walking out of the trailer, the smell of diesel smacked you in the face. You headed into the mess hall, quickly grabbing a breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee before heading back out and towards Hell’s Kitchen to start the day and try to distract yourself. 

After reaching the excavator and doing your walk-around, you got in and fired up the beast. As the machine warmed up, you started to enjoy your breakfast. 

This was how all your work days started. A gas-station-equivalent sandwich and coffee while everything in the excavator got ready for the day. 

In the middle of your second bite and with zero sips of coffee, your radio crackled. 

“I don’t pay you to sit in there and have breakfast. Get to work.” 

Parker. His voice was firm and rough. The roughness in his voice caught you off guard. It was usually filled with kindness and, honestly, curiosity.

With your sandwich still in your mouth, you looked up at the ridge, and there he was. Leaned up against his truck with his arms crossed, hat pulled down, and radio in his hand. His jaw was clenched, posture stiff, and overall very mine-boss Parker. It felt like a staring contest for how long you just looked at him while he watched you. 

You finished your bite, crumpling up the rest in the wrapper and tossing it into the small garbage bag. Taking a sip of coffee to wash it down, you cleared your throat. 

“Copy that,” you said firmly. “Boss.” 

With that, you started moving the excavator to the new mound to dig for pay dirt. 

Lunch came faster than normal, probably because you were too lost in your own thoughts to notice time going by. Instead of being weird about everything, you decided it’d be best to do things as you normally did. 

After grabbing a sandwich and a bag of chips, you went and sat with Mitch and Chris. 

“Parker is in one of his beloved moods again today,” Mitch grumbled from behind his sandwich. Chris hummed in agreement. 

As if they had called him over, Parker appeared next to you.

“I am not in a mood,” he snapped. 

Chris made a face at you from across the table. You ignored him, because they weren’t entirely wrong. You weren’t sure what was going on, but he was definitely in some kind of mood. 

Parker hesitated at the chair beside you. After a second, he walked around and sat next to Chris. This, too, caught you off guard, as Parker normally sat next to you during lunch. 

While you were eating, you noticed that Parker kept talking to Chris and Mitch more than to you. You shrugged it off, pretending not to care. Meanwhile, in your head, it was a mess. Slowly, you became hyperaware of what Parker was doing, which was just eating lunch and talking with the guys. 

The whole time you were eating, you wanted to look up and see if he was looking at you, but you stuck to your guns and didn’t. You simply ate your food and then got up when finished. 

“See you guys,” you said. 

Mitch waved slightly with his mouth full. 

“See you, youngster,” Chris mumbled between his few bites of chips. 

“Later, (Y/N),” Parker said quietly. 

This almost made you stop in your tracks. Now he has decided to be nice to you?

You huffed quietly to yourself and kept walking. 

“(Y/N)!” Parker called after you. 

You stopped, not wanting to face him. But, remembering that he was your boss, you turned. A small piece of you held hope that he’d say something nice, and it would go back to normal. The tiredness in his face caught you by surprise, though. Not just from working or not sleeping enough, but also emotionally exhausted. 

“Yeah, boss?” 

“Double the amount of rock trucks that are loaded today. We’re behind and need to get pay to the plant,” he said flatly, then took a bite of his sandwich.

You stared blankly at him. 

“Do my best,” you said, then walked out of the mess hall. 

Once far enough away, knowing you’d be drowned out by the overwhelming noise of the wash plant and diesel engines. You stopped walking, putting your hands on your hips, and looking back at the mess hall. 

“What in the actual hell was that?” You muttered. 

You ran your hands over your face aggressively and groaned into them. Taking a deep breath, you headed to the excavator to try to get what Parker wanted done. 

After a couple of hours, you noticed his truck up on the ridge. Except this time, there was no Parker near it. You shrugged it off and kept loading trucks until movement caught your eye through the dusty windshield. 

Parker. 

He was heading straight toward your excavator, boots dragging through the mud left by the rain over the last couple of days. 

“This oughta be good,” you mumbled, dumping a scoop of dirt into a truck. 

While you continued to scoop dirt, you watched him from the corner of your eye. You noticed he was walking slower than his normal ‘I’ve got shit to do’ pace. His hands were deep in his pockets, radio clipped to his waist. 

Once he climbed up onto the track beside the cab, you reached over and pushed the door open. 

For a second, neither of you said anything. 

The diesel engine hummed underneath you while hydraulics whined faintly in the background. Dirt clung to the bottom of Parker’s jeans and to the edge of his boots. His hat sat lower than normal over his eyes, almost like he was trying not to be looked at too closely. 

“What’s up, boss?” you finally asked.

“Just wanted to see if you were keeping up with everything and doing double the trucks,” he said, leaning against the small door frame. 

You sat back in the seat, feeling the diesel engine vibrating through every piece of the machine and you. Glancing over at him, you noticed how tired his eyes were up close.

Not the tired you noticed earlier in the mess hall. This was different. 

His jaw was tight again, muscles flexing every couple of seconds like he was grinding his teeth without realizing it. There were faint dark circles sitting beneath his eyes, and for the first time since meeting him, Parker actually looked worn down. 

Like the weight of the entire claim had finally settled onto his shoulders all at once. 

It was almost like he was holding something back. 

You shrugged. 

“Simply doing my best.”

There was a small moment of silence. 

“I appreciate you always doing your best, (Y/N),” he said quietly, looking up at you. 

You weren’t sure if it was the way he looked at you or how he said your name, but it made your stomach do that annoying flip. 

The moment lasted longer than it probably should have. 

Parker stayed leaning against the door frame, eyes fixed on yours like he was trying to figure something out. For once, he didn't look like the boss running a gold mine. 

He just looked tired. 

Like he wanted to say something and didn’t know how. 

Your fingertips tightened slightly around the joystick. 

“Parker-”

His radio suddenly crackled softly at his hip. 

Parker’s eyes flicked down for a second before landing back on you. He opened his mouth slightly, like he was about to say something else. 

Then the radio crackled sharply against his hip. 

“Parker, you copy?”

Tyson. 

The tension in the cab disappeared almost instantly. 

Parker groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Always something…” 

With that, he hopped down and headed to his truck. 

Instead of jumping right back into the action, you watched him go back to his truck. He didn’t look back once. A second later, the engine started, and his truck disappeared up the ramp, tires throwing wet dirt behind it. 

The ridge suddenly felt empty again. 

You stared at the spot where his truck disappeared longer than you meant to before looking back at the cut below you. 

You shook your head, reached over, and turned the radio up.

“Focus and get back to work, (Y/N),” you muttered, frustration in your voice. 

At this point, you weren’t sure what to do.

One minute, Parker looked at you like there was something sitting right beneath the surface waiting to spill out. 

Next, he acted like you were just another operator on the payroll. 

It was exhausting trying to figure out which version of him was real. 

A part of you wanted to ignore it completely. Just run equipment, collect a paycheck, and be part of the crew. 

The smarter part of you probably should’ve done exactly that. 

But another part of you wanted to grab him by the front of his jacket and ask what the hell is going on inside that head of his. 

Ask why he kept pulling you close just to shove himself back behind some invisible wall. 

If you knew anything about yourself, you knew that you weren’t going to play games. 

This was an all-or-nothing situation.

Masterlist :)

You were sitting in the mud beside him, holding his hand on his non-injured arm. 

“(Y/N),” Rick croaked out, tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“Am I gonna die?” Rick muttered, the tears running down the side of his face. 

“Oh, Rick. You are not going to die,” you replied, placing your other hand on top of his. “Not on my watch.”

This caused him to chuckle, sending a bolt of pain through him. 

“Parker’s gonna hate me for this,” Rick sighed. 

“He is not. ATVs are replaceable. You are not,” you said, making eye contact with him.

“But now I’m out of commission for the rest of the damn season.”

“No amount of gold is worth your life, okay?” You said firmly. 

Rick sighed, nodding his head slightly. 

The sudden stop of the ATV pulled you from your thoughts. Parker had pulled up right to your trailer, killing the engine. 

For a minute, neither of you moved. Your arms still around his torso, his hands still on the handlebars tightly. A blanket of silence over both of you. 

After a moment, Parker slid off the ATV and took his helmet off. 

“I thought he was dead,” Parker murmured, his gaze not leaving the helmet.

The words sat heavily between you. 

You looked over at him. He didn’t have to look at you. His hands were gripping tightly around the edge of the helmet. Dirt and dried mud clung to his sleeves, one spot darker where Rick had grabbed onto him after the crash. 

For the first time since you met him, Parker looked tired. Not physically. Something deeper than that. 

You swallowed softly. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

Parker nodded once, but it was distant, as if he had heard the words without actually believing them yet. 

“I heard him ask you if he was going to die,” he said quietly, his eyes shifting to look over the claim. “Who asks that unless they think it’s going to happen?”

Your chest tightened. 

“He was scared,” you replied gently. “People say a lot of things when they’re scared.” 

Parker let out a slow breath through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I hate this part of mining.” 

Not the work. Not the breakdowns. Not the money. This part.

The part where someone reminds you how quickly everything can go bad.

The Yukon air stretched quietly around the two of you. 

No laughter from the mess hall. No engines were running in the cuts. Even the camp lights seemed dimmer. 

Parker finally set the helmet down on the ATV seat and leaned back against the machine, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. 

“I should’ve called it sooner,” he muttered. 

“The trail?” You asked, frowning slightly. 

He nodded once.

“Everything was getting slick.” 

“Rick hit the washout wrong,” you said gently. “That wasn’t on you.” 

Parker let out a hollow laugh. 

“That’s kind of the problem with being the boss, though.” His eyes dropped to the dirt beneath his boots. “Everything feels like it’s on you.” 

You stayed quiet for a second, watching him carefully. 

For someone who carried himself so confidently around the claim, he suddenly looked younger standing in the glow of the camp lights. 

Not weak. Just tired. 

“You can’t control everything, Parker.”

“No,” he said softly. “But I’m supposed to keep my people safe.”

The way he said my people made your chest tighten. 

Not employees. Not workers. Not just the crew.

His people. 

You slid off the ATV and leaned lightly against it beside him.

“Rick’s alive because everyone reacted fast,” you said quietly. “You got help there quick. Mitch helped get the ATV off once help arrived, and Chris called the emergency flight team.” 

Parker rubbed a hand over his jaw. 

“And you stayed there with him,” he said quietly. 

You looked over at him. 

“He needed someone there,” you whispered. 

“Yeah,” Parker said, finally looking at you fully. “And you knew that before the rest of us did.” 

The look in his eyes almost made you look away. Not because it was romantic, but because it was honest. 

“You kept him calm,” Parker continued. “Hell, you kept all of us calm.”

“I was terrified,” you said, shaking your head. 

“That’s not how it looked to me.” 

You laughed softly under your breath. 

“That’s because somebody had to stay level-headed while the boss paced holes into the trail.”

That finally pulled the smallest smile out of him. Tiny. Tired. But real. 

“I was pacing that much?”

“I thought the medevac team was going to have to sedate you after Rick,” you teased softly. 

Parker huffed out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. Silence settled between you again, though softer this time. 

You glanced toward the dark claim stretching out beyond camp. Somewhere out there sat Hell’s Kitchen, quiet for the night after days of nonstop movement. 

It suddenly felt different now. More dangerous. More real. 

“You know what the worst part is?” Parker asked quietly.

You looked back over at him.

“What?”

“The second he stopped moving.” His voice lowered. “Everything got real quiet, and I…” He swallowed hard, eyes dropping away from yours. “I thought I was about to watch one of my guys die.” 

Your chest ached hearing him say it out loud. 

Without thinking, you reached over and rested your hand lightly on his forearm. Parker froze for half a second beneath your touch, then slowly relaxed. 

“He didn’t,” you said softly. 

Parker looked down at your hand for a moment before meeting your eyes again. 

“No,” he said quietly. “Thanks to you.” 

Before you had the chance to respond, the sound of a trailer door creaking open broke the quiet. Both of you looked up.

Mitch sat down heavily on the steps outside the mess hall, elbows resting on his knees. For once, there wasn’t something sarcastic ready to come out of his mouth. He just stared out at the dark claim.

Chris stepped out a moment later, cigar between his fingers but unlit. He looked between you and Parker before leaning against the railing beside Mitch.

Nobody said much. Nobody really knew what to say.

The camp suddenly felt smaller tonight. Quieter. Like the crash had settled over everyone like a layer of dust.

Parker slowly straightened beside you, though the exhaustion still clung to him.

“I should probably call the hospital again in a bit,” he muttered.

“To check on Rick?” You asked softly.

Parker nodded once.

“He’ll probably complain that the food sucks before he asks how bad the ATV looks,” Chris called over dryly.

That pulled a quiet snort out of Mitch.

“Honestly,” Mitch added, rubbing both hands over his face, “that idiot’s probably trying to convince a nurse he can still run rock trucks with one arm.”

The tension eased slightly. Not gone. Just… lighter.

Enough for everyone to breathe again.

Masterlist :)