At his side, Evie beamed at him.
“Safety is our top priority. And we’ve got to be organized. Make sure you sign in with Paul, then you must provide Gabe with your signed waiver. And everyone wears an orange T-shirt.” They remained quiet, most of them still stuffing their faces. “If you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re on hauling duty, no exceptions.” I eyed Mrs. Moore, wondering if I could convince her to leave the chainsaw in her trunk. “Jasper and I will each lead a team, one into the tree stands to the east and one to the west. Every branch that needs to come down is marked with orange spray paint. We will direct you in the field. Clear the limbs, and any debris and load it into the ATVs.”
I’d spent weeks marking trees that needed to be downed or trimmed. It was essential if I wanted to keep overly excited volunteers from going wild with their chainsaws and it limited damage to my production.
“Gabe will be leading the clear team. You’ll be collecting downed limbs and branches, keeping the trails cleared. Take photos of any other damage you find and text them to him. We’ve got a trailer for big pieces and another for sticks and kindling.”
A few of the kids gravitated toward my cousin. He’d keep them busy, as well as most of the older-timers. It was much safer that way.
“Logan and Paul will be here overseeing the log cutting and splitting,” I explained.
Some of the firefighters cheered, clearly having chosen that station for themselves.
I scanned the crowd, annoyed yet also grateful for the turnout. This town was full of helpers, whether I needed the help was irrelevant.
Preparing to dismiss the group, I took a deep breath. That’s when I spotted Julian, sitting on the ground next to Wayne, happily listening to my chainsaw safety briefing. He was more focused than half the adults.
Half impressed and half terrified he’d left his house without telling his mom again, I froze. But after a heartbeat, I saw her.
Celine.
She stood behind him, next to Stella, holding a coffee mug with both hands.
Dammit. I hadn’t thought to warn her about all the commotion on the farm today or considered that Julian might be bothered by the noise. I’d been too wrapped up in preparations.
She didn’t look mad. No, she looked comfortable. Maybe more comfortable than I’d ever seen her. She was smiling and chatting, her red hair piled on top of her head and an oversized fleece wrapped around her, her cheeks pink with the cool morning air.
“Remember the rules of Chainsaw Day,” I yelled, ready to get started. “Chaps and safety gear are mandatory. No drinking, no smoking, no heroics. Jasper, Gabe, and I are in charge of the zone. You do not cut without our permission first.”
Satisfied with the nods and affirmative responses, I climbed down. For a moment, I stood in place, surveying the chaos as the group disbanded. People took off in all directions, chatting and laughing and carrying equipment.
Damn. Would it even be possible to keep everyone safe today? The enthusiasm for chainsaws in this damn town was far too prevalent.
“Um. Josh. Mr. Josh?”
Julian appeared at my side, Wayne dutifully trotting along with him. The little boy had his bright blue noise canceling headphones around his neck like a collar and was wearing the fuzzy blue hoodie I’d often seen him in.
“Morning, Julian.”
“Can I help?” he asked, his blue eyes shining bright. “I don’t have a chainsaw. But I can carry wood.”
Celine jogged over, putting her arm around his shoulders. “Julian, let’s not bother Josh. He’s super busy.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Julian offered to help. Which is very generous of him.”
I crouched so we were face to face. “Only the grown-ups can cut down the trees. But you can ride along and watch if you’d like. And I could use your help counting up the logs later. But only if it’s okay with your mom.”
He turned and looked up at her. “Can I watch? I won’t touch anything. I promise.”
She studied him, then me, her expression wary. “Just for a little bit.”
We got everyone assigned and organized, then set off into the woods, and Julian remained at my side the whole time. Jasper was a firefighter and paramedic, so I was confident he could handle his crew. But I had the honor of leading a ragtag team of Marty from the diner, Vince and Mrs. Morris and her vintage chainsaw.
The trouble started mid-day, the way it always did. Quietly.
We had cleared out the first sector when the sound of one chainsaw caught my attention. It revved too loudly and too quickly rather than steadily like I’d drilled into my group.
The sound could only mean someone inexperienced was overcompensating on the throttle.
