“Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”
“You sure? It’s cold out here.”
The kid had a way with the obvious. “I’ll be fine. See you Friday for study practice.”
Ben raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest any further. “See ya.”
Sammy waited to make sure Ben’s truck started, then threw his leg over the seat of his fat tire bike. He’d found the machine more than adequate for getting around town. He’d bought it last year after his physical therapist declared him finished with his treatment. And since he was never driving again, thank you very much, he’d needed a way to stay gainfully employed. He’d gotten a few odd jobs and worked as a courier for several businesses in town.
Making his way along snow-cleared streets, he navigated to the small, in-town office of Turnquist Lumber, where he had to drop a package off for Seth Turnquist.
The receptionist waved him back into Seth’s office. He almost laughed aloud at the sight of Seth sitting behind a desk and sporting a dress shirt and tie. On the back of his chair hung an honest-to-goodness sport coat.
His friend looked positively…respectable. Not at all like the Seth Turnquist who used to get into trouble with Sammy, or the rough-and-tumble Seth who’d knocked down fires in the wilderness. This Seth was clean-shaven and straightlaced.
Marriage looked good on him.
Seth looked up from his paperwork. “What are you smiling at?”
“I’m remembering the dunking we used to give each other when we practiced logrolling. Too bad you’re all domesticated now.”
“I’ll have you know I can still roll with the best of them.” Seth came around the desk and flexed one arm before patting his stomach. “Just because Ree keeps feeding me doesn’t mean I couldn’t put you into the lake.” Seth punched his shoulder.
He took it back. Domesticated Seth was power under control. He certainly wasn’t pulling his punches. Like a trained stallion who used his incredible strength to pull with a team. A hero. Marriage had changed him—for the better. Sammy rubbed the spot on his shoulder Seth had slugged.
“Here’s your package from the architect.” Sammy had picked up the package before meeting Ben at the center. The courier service he’d started to help pay the bills was picking up. “Got anything for me?”
“Nothing today.” Seth opened up the manila envelope and scanned the pages. “Thanks for getting this over there tonight.”
“It’s what I do.” The warmth in the office suddenly felt overwhelming. Sammy swiped off his hat. Stuffed it into a pocket.
“As much as I appreciate your business, I wish it wasn’t ‘what you do.’ I want more for you than this.” Seth went back to his chair and motioned to another one for Sammy. They both sat. “Have you thought any more about joining Tucker Newman’s smoke jumping team?”
Sammy shifted in the chair. “I don’t think so. I’m not ready for something like that.” Seth had come home a few years ago after several summers on a smoke jumping team fighting wildfires in America’s western wilderness. He had to admit, the job held a little appeal. He had toyed with the idea of being a firefighter his whole life.
“Come on, you’re in the best shape of your life. Even from here I can see you’re more buff than when we were on the football team together.” Seth leaned forward, placing his arms on his desk. “You can be more than a courier or whatever. Aren’t you itching to get on with your life again?”
Seth…wasn’t wrong. But whenever Sammy thought about the future, a yawning cavern of the unknown greeted him. “Sure, when I was younger, I dreamed of firefighting, but…” How could he explain to Seth that now that he was here, with an opportunity dangling in front of him…well, the weakness he sometimes still felt in his knees—and his spirit—was proof that sometimes the known was the better road. Definitely the safer one.
And for now, the known had him on a bike around town couriering packages for small businesses. And if that didn’t exactly provide the satisfaction and heroism he’d always wanted for his life…at least it was safe.
“Fine. I’ll think about it.” Anything to get Seth off his back. Maybe he could shove the idea to the back of the brain along with the whisper that Seth might be right.
“Well, don’t think too long. A new group is starting in March. I’d love to see you join them.”
“Speaking of joining, will you be at the VFW tonight?”
“I’ll be there. See you soon.”
Seth’s words weighed on Sammy as he ran a few more errands before biking to the VFW. It was trivia night. Tonight he and Seth were on a team with some other guys from town. He was looking forward to getting one of Jack Stewart’s signature fish burgers.
At the restaurant, the other guys had already assembled at a table for six. He slid onto a chair between Seth and Boone Buckam. Across from them sat Peter Dahlquist and his cousin Nick. Deep Haven regulars filled the wood-paneled restaurant. He nodded at Adrian Vassos and his wife, Ella, over near the far side of the room. Closer to where he sat, Pastor Dan Matthews was eating a burger with his wife and kids. The ringing of the pinball machine and an occasional clacking of pool balls filtered back to where they sat. Near the front of the room, the small stage stood empty, since the local band, the Blue Monkeys, had trivia night off.
Sammy put in his order. Lately Jack had been experimenting with a coleslaw topping on his fish burger. Today’s slaw featured green apple, raisins, cabbage, and a vinegar dressing. Mouthwatering.
Just as the meals arrived, Nathan Decker, a local real estate salesman, stopped by the table. “Sammy! I hoped I would catch you here.”
Sammy poured a little ketchup onto his plate. “What’s up?”
