Logan pointed to the far end of the saw.
“What do I do?” I eyed the wooden handle.
“It’s not rocket science, kid. Grab on, saw the log, don’t fight me, and try to keep up.” He adopted a wide stance with one foot forward. I did the same, wrapping both of my hands around the wooden handle of the saw. An older lady wearing a red sash that readmayorheld one arm in the air and counted down. The crowd joined in.
“Three…two…one…” she shouted into a megaphone, then blew a whistle.
I didn’t know what Logan meant by not fighting him, but it became clear on our first botched stroke. We both pulled on our end of the saw, then both pushed. The metal blade bowed in the middle and wouldn’t budge. Our eyes met across the saw. Logan shouted, “Pull!”
I pulled. Then pushed. And pulled. When we found our rhythm, sawdust started to fly, piling up on the icy ground below the log. Before we were done, a cheer erupted from the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched two of the lumberjacks raise their arms above their heads. “Keep going,” Logan shouted.
We didn’t win the crosscut contest, but we didn’t come in last either. When our round of wood thudded to the ground, the mayor announced our fourth-place finish through her megaphone.
“That was pretty good.” Logan patted me on the back. “Sometimes you just have to listen to your coach.”
The coach.
I liked taking instruction from Logan. Unfortunately, the next day I was going to have to listen to Coalman.
“You were amazing!” Evie rushed into the cutting area and gave me a hug. Charlotte did the same with Logan, only he planted a kiss on her lips. Evie and I were in a weird place. I suppose it was the friend zone, even though that’s not what either of us wanted. She stepped back, holding her hat in place with her hand.
“Who are those guys?” I turned to look at the winners. One was huge and looked like he’d walked right in from building a cabin in the woods. The other guy was smaller and wiry but with an equally impressive beard. “Did they fly in from the lumberjack Olympics?”
Logan laughed. “There are no ringers in the Chance Rapids Carnival. That’s Freddie. He’s my brother and the best electrician in town. The other guy is Josh. He owns a log home company in town.”
I wasn’t too far off.
But Logan was. There were indeed ringers brought in for the Carnival. I was one of them.
“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Freddie. I think you two will hit it off.” Before I could protest and get the hell out of there, Logan waved his brother over. We all moved to the side of the staging area to stand around a firepit while the volunteers set up the next contest—a race of some kind.
Logan introduced me to every person around the fire. “Would you like me to make you a s’more?” Tabitha, Lauren’s daughter, asked.
Lauren, who I just learned was Logan’s sister-in-law, tilted her head and rested her hand on the young girl’s shoulder.
“I would love a s’more. I think I worked off five hundred calories in that saw contest.”
The girl smiled. She put the marshmallow on the end of the stick with such concentration that her tongue stuck out.Lauren stepped beside me and whispered, “Thank you, you don’t have to eat it. Tabitha’s usually really shy. I’m surprised she approached you like that.”
“Who wouldn’t want to eat a s’more?”
“They’re delicious,” Evie confirmed. “I’ve already had three.”
While my snack was being cooked and assembled, I chatted with Josh, Lauren, and Charlotte. Evie stood next to me and we got a play-by-play of the outhouse race crash. Freddie acted it out, complete with sound effects and dramatic aerobatic maneuvers. Logan was right, I did like Freddie, but who wouldn’t—he was the group’s class clown.
When the reenactment of the crash was over, I focused my attention on Evie. “I still haven’t found Rocky’s family.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Can we ask the Lumbers if you can keep him? He’ll probably be right at home on the farm.”
I could see it. Rocky loved running up and down the path between the house and the cabin. He kept a watchful eye on all of the farm animals but didn’t bother them—except for the turkeys. I would like lunging at them, too, if I were a dog. They made hilarious gobble sounds and their feathers flew into the air like a pillow had just exploded. “I’m still hoping his family shows up. Hey, I like your hat.” I changed the subject. I couldn’t keep the dog.
“Thanks!” She took it off, then snatched my Bobcats hat off my head, replacing it with the cowboy hat. She took a step back and her eyes sparkled as she nodded. “It looks good on you.”
“Don’t put that on…” I held out my hand to stop her, but she’d already put my baseball hat on her head, “your head. It’s sweaty.”
She shrugged. “I’m sweaty, I was practicing for the skijoring race before I came here. That’s why I’m wearing this.” She smoothed out her canvas jacket by running herhands down her chest. My heart thumped and I got an instant semi. Evie looked good in anything she wore, but there was something extra hot about her in coveralls and my baseball hat.
“You found a skier?” She was so excited about the race but needed a skier to enter.
