Page 1 of Mountain Man's Bonfire Beauty
1
AYDEN
The redhead was going to burn the whole place down.
I should mention it to Bobbi, the organizer of this harvest market. That large tabletop fire pit where kids were roasting s’mores was definitely a fire hazard. And if the fire marshal cared about some event in a small mountain town in the middle of nowhere, the organizers would face a fine. Maybe even be shut down.
But I didn’t report her. I just went to my buddy’s booth, where I was supposed to meet him. Where I could watch her without her knowing she was in my sights.
“We need to put something together fast,” Ashe said as I approached, my mind still on the gorgeous redhead. “The high school wants to do their annual homecoming bonfire over there.” He pointed toward an open field next to the trail they’d been using for hayrides. “Luca gave his approval—he owns the property, so Bobbi said we had to make it work.”
I glanced back at the open flame, trying not to get distracted by the impressive curves tucked into a tight, long-sleeved Halloween T-shirt. I’d been worried about a relatively small open flame that sat on the table in front of the red-headeds’mores vendor, but my buddy was talking about the biggest possible flame—a bonfire.
“Did you get that cleared with the fire marshal?” I asked.
When I looked over at my friend, I saw the reaction I probably would have expected. I was being a stick in the mud again.
I was a valuable part of this community, as the only mechanic in town. I did all the work out of a separate garage I had built for my business on my property behind my cabin. But I’d always been hyper-responsible and a stickler for the rules, which had me taking shit from my friends going all the way back to elementary school. The only place my adherence to rules was prized was while I was in the military. And now, in situations like this.
“They do this bonfire every year,” he said. “Usually behind the high school, but this is Luca’s property, and if he gave permission, it’s on him if something goes wrong.”
It would be in a big, open field, so the chances of it getting out of control were slim, but I made a mental note to head over to Hartsville and buy some fire extinguishers. Maybe someone should even have the fire department on standby.
“When are we doing this?” I asked.
“That’s the problem,” Ashe said. “The homecoming game is tomorrow night, so they need us to do it tonight. That’s why we called you in.”
I frowned at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the redhead’s flame jump as the kids squealed with excitement. It took everything in me not to bolt over and put the whole thing out.
“I’m a mechanic,” I said. “I’m not sure how that translates.”
“You’re our safety expert. I couldn’t think of anyone who’d be better. It’s going to be all hands on deck this afternoon, getting it set up.”
I found myself nodding, though my attention kept drifting back to the redhead. From this angle, I could see her profile as she laughed with the kids, showing them how to thread marshmallows onto skewers. Her hair caught the afternoon light, all copper and gold, and when she smiled, it transformed her whole face.
“So, what exactly do you need me to do?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on my friend.
“Coordinate with the fire department, make sure we have proper clearance zones, supervise the setup. You know, all the boring stuff that keeps us from getting sued.” He grinned. “Plus, you’ve got that truck with the flatbed. We’ll need it to haul wood.”
The mention of coordination had me thinking logistics. “How big are we talking?”
“Big enough for both high schoolers and adults to gather around. Maybe two hundred people? The principal wants it to be memorable.” He gestured toward the field again. “We’ve got about four hours to pull this together.”
Four hours. That would put us well into the evening, right around the time the harvest market wound down for the day. I glanced back at the redhead’s booth, wondering if she’d still be here. If she’d maybe even join the bonfire celebration.
“The wood’s already been delivered,” my friend continued. “Luca had a tree service drop off a pile this morning. We just need to arrange it properly, set up a perimeter, and get the safety equipment in place.”
I was half-listening, watching as the redhead demonstrated the perfect marshmallow roasting technique to a little girl who couldn’t have been more than six. The kid was hanging on her every word, eyes wide with the kind of wonder that only came from learning something magical for the first time.
“Earth to Ayden,” my friend said with a chuckle. “You’re staring.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Just keeping an eye on the situation over there.”
“Right. The ‘situation.’” His tone was dry. “Her name’s Parker, by the way. Parker Walsh. She’s new in town, been here maybe two months. She’s staying at the old Harrison place up on Mountain View Road.”
Parker. The name suited her somehow. Strong and straightforward. I filed the information away, trying to look like I wasn’t interested.
“Anyway,” he continued, “she’s been a hit at the market. Kids love her, parents appreciate that she uses quality ingredients. Bobbi’s thrilled to have her.”
