Page 27 of Fire Peak

He didn’t trust Mark Jones anymore. He wasn’t sure if Charlie had done anything to justify being chased all the way across the country. They’d never explained what they suspected her of doing, and at this rate, he’d probably never find out.

“There it is.” He pulled up next to a squat little one-story cabin made from peeled logs, with a wide wraparound deck that overlooked the Snow River tributary that wound through Firelight Ridge. “This is one of the oldest cabins in town. But don’t worry, its been modernized.”

“Modernized? Boo, why’d they have to do that?”

“Probably so you wouldn’t have to use an outhouse,” he said dryly.

That stopped her complaints. Hailey had grown up in suburban Arizona and had gotten her only outdoors experience in summer camp. Jill was a city girl all the way.

“It’s cute,” she decided after they’d toured the cabin, which involved little more than turning in a circle in the living room. The wooden floors gleamed with new polyurethane, and the windows were cranked open to let in the breeze. A tidy stack of logs next to the woodstove suggested it might get chilly at night. A quilt depicting a mama bear and cubs covered one entire wall. Shelves along another wall were filled with local guidebooks and paperbacks and stacks of board games.

“See, that’s what you do when you don’t have Internet,” he said, pointing at the games. “Old entertainment technology. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll let you beat me at Scrabble.”

“Patronizing,” she said sternly.

“Ass-covering,” he corrected. “You’ll probably beat me, I’m just setting up my excuse early.”

“Ha ha. You said ‘ass.’ I might tell Mom.”

“So she can come kick my ass?” He grinned at his daughter. She really did look quite a bit like him. Or maybe more like Donna, the youngest of his four sisters, who had the same flashing black eyes and sturdy build.

Hailey set down her suitcase on the floor and peered up at the loft, reachable by a built-in ladder at one end. “Since you’ve obviously decided to be the cool dad, are you letting me get first dibs on where to sleep?”

“You want the loft? You can have it. I believe it comes with a ‘keep out’ sign. And a ‘no boys allowed’ sign.”

“Ew. As if I’d bring a boy over with my dorky dad right there.”

The fact that she was calling him “dad” canceled out the “dorky” part. He was still feeling his way through this relationship; they all were. When he’d randomly run into Jill while on a job in Tucson, she’d asked for his number. Sometime later, she’d called and explained about Hailey, and set up a meeting, all because Hailey had wanted it. He still wasn’t sure if that was because Hailey wanted a father, or just out of curiosity.

A knock sounded at the door. He and Hailey shared a glance of surprise. “Expecting someone?” he asked as he stepped toward the door.

“Oh, just a few boys,” she teased him.

He sighed, wondering what he’d gotten himself into by suggesting Hailey spend the summer with him in Alaska. A bumpy ride, no doubt.

He opened the door to find Solomon, the old miner from The Fang, planted on the patch of dirt out front. His ancient straw hat was tilted backwards, which meant he was in a chatty mood. When Nick had spent time with him at the bar, he’d quickly learned the code. Tilted back—open to conversation. Angled over his eyes—keep your distance. Cocked to the side—just got his disability deposit and might buy the next round.

“Rumors are true,” Solomon said around a mouthful of nicotine gum. The story went that he’d started chewing to break his cigarette habit, but these days he just alternated the two. “You’re back.”

“There’s already rumors about me?” Nick shook his head in bemusement. “I just drove in about six minutes ago.”

“More like four and a half,” called Hailey from the loft ladder. He heard some thumps and bumps as she climbed onto the loft.

“Is that your daughter? They said you might be bringing your daughter.”

“How…who…never mind. What’s up, Solomon? We just walked in, haven’t even unpacked.”

“I unpacked,” Hailey yelled. “It’s supercool up here. I can see a mountain that looks like it’s on fire.”

“We call that Fire Peak,” Solomon answered, calling around Nick as if he was just an inconvenient roadblock. “Anyone tell you about the volleyball game every Friday night? It’s on old Preacher’s property, he wrote it into his will,” he explained to Nick.

“I’m too short for volleyball,” called Hailey.

“No, you ain’t. Everyone plays. Even Scooter does, and he has a cane. Gunnar’s the only one any good at it.”

Nick sighed. “You want to come in and meet Hailey instead of just yelling to her?”

“Nah, I better not. I came because I got a problem. Thought you might be able to help.”

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