Page 7 of Fire and Icing

“Your gran and her matchmaking ways.” Carli grins warmly.

“If only they were actual matchmaking ways. She can’t seem to match anyone. She’s a menace.” I smile, affection for my gran filling me with a certain kind of warmth.

“She’s adorable,” Carli says.

“Did you find it adorable when she tried to hook you up with Buckley from the Feed and Seed?”

Carli snort laughs. “How did she frame that?” She laughs again, setting her cup in the drying rack and turning to me. “Oh, yeah. He’s sturdy. That was her big selling point.Carli, you should spend some time with Buckley. He’s sturdy.”

We both cackle.

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” I say through my laughter. “He’s built like a John Deere.”

“I’m not even sure she was referring to his physique,” Carli giggles again. “He has exactly no personality. He’s nice. But can you imagine life with Buckley?”

I shake my head. “Lifetime supply of pig growth booster. There would be that.”

Carli loses it. Then she gasps out, “I guess standards for relationships have gone up a few notches over the generations. I can’t see myself marrying simply to secure a discount at the farm supply.”

When our laughter dies down, I ask, “Remember when Gran wanted me to date that guy who was here as summer help at the Flying J Ranch?”

Carli closes her eyes and shakes her head. “What was his name? James? John? George? Did he even speak?”

“Jason. And no, he didn’t speak. And that would be fine, except he actually never spoke. Not a word. He wasn’t reserved or shy or a once-you-get-to-know-him type. At all. He could speak. He just … didn’t. Talk about the longest date of my life. I’d ask him questions and he’d just nod, shake his head or stare at me. There’s strong and silent and then there’s … Jason.”

“Girl.”

“I know. And that’s exactly why I’m not so sure I want to stay at Gran’s, where I’d be her captive victim. I might find myself coming home from the bakery to a parlor full of random and unfortunate suitors.”

“Maybe just tell her you’re in need of a sanctuary after the fire. You endured it. You may as well use it to your advantage.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“But, again, you can stay here as long as you like. I love having you around.”

“I really appreciate it. You have no idea.”

Carli smiles at me. Then she leans in and draws me into a hug.

“Anytime,” she says, giving me a squeeze.

I leave Carli’s before the sun is up, driving out the long road flanked by low fences and lines of trees. Pastures stretch out on either side. I pass Blue Mist Ranch, where the Lawsons raise cattle. In about twenty minutes, I’m at the edge of historic downtown Waterford. We’re a five stoplights in each direction town. Neighborhoods surround the main streets, an invisible line separating shops and residences. A few older buildings downtown have been converted to condos in recent years, blurring that line just the slightest.

Most of our town is preserved to look essentially the way it did for generations before I was born. There’s a comfort in knowing the people and places that surround you. I could navigate Waterford with my eyes shut. And I know almost everyone by name.

Even the intruders, like that fireman, Dustin.

I’m not completely against people moving into Waterford. I’m hospitable and welcoming if they come here to blend in or add something of value. But when they storm the gates bringing everything they stand for with them, my feathers get admittedly ruffled.

California. I release an audible, “Hmph.”

I’d bet he has blond highlights under that helmet. He probably grew up skipping school to go surfing. I can already tell he’s like a puppy at a funeral—a big loping pup, bouncing around and knocking into things, licking everyone and wagging his tail. He’s obviously been told he’s cute too many times in his life. No one taught him to sit or stay.

Whatever. I can’t stop the influx of random trespassers into my hometown. And I can’t blame the people who come to Tennessee to seek a sweeter slice of life. Usually they end up inFranklin or Nashville itself. Even Knoxville’s got more outsiders than ever these days.

Why would that rogue fireman end up in Waterford of all places?

I take a deep breath. I’m probably being hard on him. The fire came out of nowhere, and so did he. He thought he was saving my life. But lifting me off my feet and tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes? That was one hundred percent uncalled for.

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