Bear carefully shook her hand then turned back to Mitch. “Are you home now?”
Mitch couldn’t help it. Those words tugged at his heart. “That’s what we’re trying to decide. I’m introducing Megs to the town.”
“Scarlet Springs is home,” Bear said.
Megs nodded. “I see that.”
They talked for a few minutes. Then Megs gave him money for a meal, and they moved on. They had an appointment with Caribou Joe, or Joe Moffat.
Joe owned some real estate they were considering for the headquarters of the rescue team they hoped to launch. They had already filed the papers for nonprofit status, but they needed a home base.
“Why do you call him Caribou Joe? Does he have antlers?”
Mitch explained the history. “This is an old mining town. Back in the day, his great-great-great grandfather operated the Caribou Silver Mine above town. Most of our ancestors worked for his ancestors—to their great regret. The Moffats didn’t care much for the town or the people who lived here. They were always just about the money.”
“So, you’re telling me that this guy will screw us over if we make an offer on the old firehouse?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him. They say he’s a bit of a hermit, but I don’t want to misjudge him just because his forbears were dicks.”
“Fair point.”
Joe was waiting for them outside the old firehouse, long hair pulled back in a ponytail, a neatly trimmed beard on his face. He held out his hand. “Mitch Ahearn and Megs Hill. I recognize you both.”
Mitch shook his hand. “My parents moved us away from Scarlet around the time you were born.”
“That’s what I hear. Now you’re thinking about moving back. That’s great. That’s what this town needs.”
Mitch caught the look on Megs’ face. “We’re thinking about it.”
“What do you want to do with the old firehouse?”
Mitch explained that a friend of theirs had recently died because there was no rescue team capable of bringing him to safety. He told Joe that he and Megs hoped to create a top-notch rock and alpine rescue unit so that nothing like that would happen again.
“We need a place big enough to house rescue vehicles and all of the technical gear necessary to run an operation like that.”
Joe listened, one hand thoughtfully stroking his beard. “What a great idea. Let’s look at the property and see if you think it meets your needs.”
He unlocked the door, and Mitch and Megs gave themselves a tour. The firehouse had two big bay doors that opened onto a cavernous space that had once held firetrucks.
Megs glanced around. “It’s certainly big enough for a couple of rescue vehicles. The quarters upstairs could be converted to storage.”
“There’s a kitchen and an operations center through here.” Joe led them out of the vehicle bay and into a vacant conference room with a small kitchen off to the side. “Everything works.”
He studied them for a moment. “If you like it, it’s yours for one dollar.”
They gaped at him, mouths hanging open.
“Onedollar?” Megs repeated.
“I acquired the property in a trade deal. The land where the new firehouse sits used to belong to me. I traded it for this, but I have no need for this property. If you can use it for the community’s benefit, then I’m ready to sell it on the cheap.”
Mitch and Megs walked a short distance away to discuss the offer.
“We’d be crazy not to accept. We could use the money we’ve raised so far to remodel the place and buy gear rather than spending it on real estate. We’d get up and running faster.”
Megs didn’t look convinced. “What’s in it for him?”
“Ask him.”
