Page 58 of Fire Peak

“You got me. What did the man do?”

She gave him a smile, as if grateful he wasn’t dismissing her observation. “He went back into the woods.”

“Did you see him slash the tires? Maybe he was just a hiker or someone who lives in the woods. There’s a few folks like that around here.”

“I didn’t see him do anything, but he was watching us, and then he disappeared.” Her stomach grumbled. “Can we get pancakes?”

“You got it.”

He took her to the Magic Breakfast Bus, the vintage yellow school bus famous for its sourdough pancakes. All the seats had been removed, and the front of the bus was set up with a griddle and an oven, while the rear held a few tables and chairs. At this time of year, Billy Jack also set up tables inside an old barn for overflow customers. But the hardcore locals always sat in the bus.

And so did they, finding a table nestled into the back corner next to the old emergency exit, which was now where customers entered.

“This is the hardest it’s ever been not to post on TikTok,” Hailey whispered to him. “My friends would be losing their shit over this.” She caught his look. “Don’t worry, Mom doesn’t mind if I use the word ‘shit’ depending on the context.”

“Did I say anything?”

“No,” she admitted. “Elias is the one who gets freaked out. Where he grew up, you could never say bad words. Sometimes he tries to, but it’s hard for him.”

“Yeah, so, about Elias. How do things, um, stand with him?”

She stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You should see your face right now. What are you worried about? Don’t you like Elias?”

“I like him. This isn’t about Elias.”

Hailey sat back and tucked into her wild blueberry pancakes. “Good, because I wouldn’t want to call you out for neurodivergent bias.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have a problem with people on the spectrum, do you?” Her stare seemed to pin him to his chair. This was Hailey in her fierce defender mode.

“I hope not,” he said carefully. “Is Elias on the spectrum?”

“Oh, definitely. He’s very high-functioning and only occasionally non-verbal. You just have to find ways to connect with him that aren’t the usual ways.” In response to his look of amazement, she added, “I have a lot of friends on the spectrum. I’m kind of used to it. I made Mom test me, but I’m unfortunately very much neurotypical. I hate that word, typical. It makes me sound boring, which I probably am, or at least I used to be, until I came to Alaska and had to help rescue an archery victim.”

Finally, she had to stop to take a breath. Impressive level of talking through pancake syrup. Sometimes he thought kids today spoke a different language. Had he ever thought about any of his classmates being neurotypical? “You don’t have to be neurodivergent to be non-boring.”

“That’s true. Look at Charlie. She’s such a badass,” she went on. “She just makes you feel like you can be anything, you know? Like anything’s possible. I want to be like her when I grow up.”

And there it was. The reason he should slow things down with Charlie. She called herself an outlaw. What kind of father would he be if he exposed his daughter to someone who flouted the law—no matter what her intentions?

“You’ve barely met Charlie,” he said. “Maybe you should know more about her before you decide she’s a role model.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just making a point.”

“But you spent last night with her, didn’t you?”

Oh shit. How had he stumbled into this mess? He should have taken some kind of emergency training on dealing with teenagers before he brought Hailey to Alaska. “That was…we’re adults and?—”

“Really, you’re playing the ‘I’m an adult’ card? If there’s something wrong with Charlie, you should just tell me.”

“I didn’t say that?—”

Thank all the angels above—an interruption.

“Hi there, Nick.” Molly appeared next to their table, followed by Lila and a dark-haired woman. He jumped up to welcome them, so eagerly he nearly knocked over his chair.

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