Page 28 of Fire in My Heart

“Can I try?” Charlotte asked.

I shrugged when Noah said he didn’t want the honors. “Sure.” I dropped to my knees to show her where to make the cut. “I’ll pull the tree in the opposite direction to make it easier on you. Make sure you press hard.”

“Got it.” Charlotte got into position, and I handed her thesaw. I waited for her to get a cut in the bark before I stood and pulled the tree for her.

I heard a lot of grumbling before the tree finally started tipping. I held onto it so it didn’t fall.

Charlotte jumped to her feet. “I did it.”

My lips twitched. “You sure did.”

“I’m like a legit lumberjack.” She danced around.

“Yeah. No. I don’t think that’s what a lumberjack does,” I said, marveling at how cute she looked when she jumped to her feet, her cheeks rosy from the cold, and her eyes wide with pride. “Lumberjacks chop trees into smaller pieces.”

Charlotte looped her hand through my elbow as I dragged the tree behind me. “I’m fairly sure that lumberjacks cut down trees too. Don’t you see those big logging trucks with huge trees on them?”

“You might be right.” I hated to admit she was right, but I’d misspoken. The problem was that she didn’t look like a lumberjack in her puffy jacket and tight jeans tucked into furry boots. Her hair stuck out from her red knit cap.

At the end of the row, I grabbed one of the wheelbarrows we used to transport trees and placed the tree inside.

The Thatchers walked ahead of us, probably eager to get back to their shiny SUV and their house in one of the newer neighborhoods outside of town.

Charlotte kept pace at my side. “Thanks for letting me cut down the tree. I love trying new things.”

“Like what else?” I glanced over at her, interested to know more.

She tapped a finger to her lips. “Hmm. I’ve always wanted to parachute out of a plane.”

I balked at that. “Seriously?”

She tallied them on her fingers. “I’ve tried hang gliding and cliff jumping.”

“I didn’t know you were a thrill seeker.” How had I missedthat? I was usually good at evaluating people. It was part of the job. I’d taken Charlotte for a spoiled girl who was used to getting what she wanted. That’s why she was perpetually happy. But instead, she was painting a picture of someone who was looking for something, not taking.

“I wouldn’t call it that. Trying new things gives me a spark of confidence that I can do anything.” She practically skipped at my side, which told me that she was genuinely happy.

“I don’t need to risk my life to build confidence.” I said, my tone a little gruffer than I intended.

Charlotte laughed gesturing wildly in my direction. “That doesn’t work with the whole thing you have going on.”

“What ‘thing’ do I have going on?” I would have placed quotes around the word “thing,” but my hands were on the wheel barrow’s handles.

“You know.”

I raised a brow.

“You’re serious, rule following?—”

“I have to be.” My jaw tightened.

Her forehead creased. “Maybe at work. But at home or with your family?”

My throat tightened. I wished I’d thought to bring water with me.

We’d almost reached the bottom of the hill, and the Thatchers were close to the counter to check out.

Charlotte curled her hand around my elbow again. “I’m just wondering who you’d be if your mother hadn’t died. Would you be the same guy or someone a little more?—”

---