Page 3 of Mountain Man's Christmas Gift
2
KEATON
Isaw the first sign of trouble as I approached the Cook property. A large bus—the kind that carried groups of tourists—took up half the big dirt parking lot being used for the Christmas festival.
Thermos full of black coffee in hand, I parked and headed to the area where the vendor booths were set up. Older women were everywhere. Moving from one booth to the next, standing in clumps in the center, but most of all, waiting for coffee. The booth where I’d tried to order black coffee yesterday was the most popular place in town right now.
Fuck. I was hoping to find a way to talk to Camilla this morning. That was her name—Camilla. I’d dared to mention her to my friend Buck, who was now dating one of the vendors, Sheraton. Luckily, he didn’t give me shit about it. Instead, he checked in with Sheraton and got the lowdown.
Buck’s intel gave me more than her name. Sheraton passed along the information that Camilla was from Hartsville, a suburban area only twenty minutes from my cabin. She worked as a barista, but her dream was to open a shop in the mountainsto sell her gourmet fudge. And that was why she was here this week.
“Keaton!”
The voice of Diesel, the town’s fire captain, pulled me from my thoughts. I turned to find him approaching from behind.
“All hands on deck meeting,” he said, motioning for me to follow as he breezed past me. “Let’s go.”
We had to squeeze our way through the crowd of tourists, but I managed to sneak a peek at Camilla, barely visible through the women lined up in front of her. Her cheery smile and bouncy ponytail reminded me that I had plenty to look forward to today.
When we got to the back of the stage—which was really just a riser holding a gigantic Christmas tree—I was surprised to find only a few guys back there. Wade and Jonas from my construction crew were standing side by side, each holding a disposable cup that definitely hadn’t come from Camilla’s booth.
Bobbi was there too, wringing her hands and looking like she was about to cry. “I’m so sorry, guys. I completely forgot about the senior center booking. They chartered a bus and everything, and I never told any of the vendors they were coming.”
Diesel crossed his arms. “How many?”
“Fifty-two.”
Wade whistled low. “That’s a lot of extra customers.”
“They’re sweet as pie, but they all want coffee and hot chocolate, and they’re asking a million questions about everything.” Bobbi sighed. “The vendors are getting overwhelmed, especially the ones working alone.”
“What do you need us to do?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Would you guys mind helping out? Just for a few hours until things settle down?”
When Bobbi specifically asked for volunteers to help the vendors handle the unexpected crowd, my hand shot up before my brain could catch up. “I’ll take the fudge booth,” I said.
Wade and Jonas exchanged a look that made my jaw tighten.
“The fudge booth?” Jonas raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice.”
“What’s interesting about it?”
“Well,” Wade drawled, “most of us would probably volunteer for the beer garden or the barbecue tent. You know, places with actual food and drinks we’d want.”
“Maybe he’s got a sweet tooth we don’t know about,” Jonas added with a smirk.
“Or maybe,” Wade continued, “it has something to do with the fact that you were at that particular booth for a really long time yesterday afternoon.”
“I was getting coffee.”
“Sure you were.”
I shot them both a look. They just grinned.
“Fudge booth it is,” Diesel said, clearly trying not to laugh. “Wade, you take the craft tent. Jonas, barbecue. I’ll help with parking.”
The group dispersed to their assigned vendors, and I headed straight for Camilla’s booth. She was already looking frazzled, her hair escaping from its ponytail as she tried to prep multiple drink orders at once. When she looked up and saw me approaching, surprise flashed across her face.
