“I’ve got donuts,” Stella said.
Donuts? This was officially out of hand.
The bakery box was stamped with the Bean There, Done That logo, confirming that Jenn had her mischievous hands all over this.
Stella always showed up too. She’d never miss an opportunity to watch Gabe wield and axe. She and Ruby climbed out of Paul’s car, Stella wearing her usual sunny smile and her sister in a vibrant pink dress.
“Hello, boys. We brought sustenance.” Ruby ducked intothe back seat and hauled a car seat out, putting the bucket over her arm. Her little guy was tiny, born a few months after Vincent.
“Jenn will be here at lunchtime with sandwiches,” Stella called out. “Now grab some chow before you get to work.”
Saturdays were the shop’s busiest day, especially now, during leaf peeping season. But Jenn and Mel would be over later. My sister was a farm girl who never missed a chance to wield an axe.
“Will you be chopping wood, Gabe?” Stella asked.
“I’ll go wherever Josh needs me,” he responded, eternally clueless and completely unaware of her attempts to flirt with him.
I cringed internally. Stella’s crush got more and more obvious every year, yet he still couldn’t see it. But he was the only one with that problem.
“People,” Paul said. “Let’s circulate the sign-in sheet and get organized.”
Reed Ashburn had pulled up with a trailer and a large ATV, and probably several kegs of beer.
“I brought extra gas,” Vince said, holding up two canisters.
I gave him a thumbs-up, then turned, searching for my coffee mug.
“Why the fuck is Badge Boy here?” a loud voice called.
Frankie Dunne strolled up, wearing work overalls and carrying an orange chainsaw case that probably weighed more than she did.
“Behave,” I said.
She stomped right up to me and elbowed me hard in the ribs. “I need to work out some aggression,” she said. “And Idon’t care if it’s on dead trees or Nolan fucking Foster. Either way, I’ll clean up my mess.” The smile that broke across her face was terrifying.
Nolan turned and pinned her with a glare, his nostrils flaring. He was an intimidating guy, stoic and large. He served in the Marine Corps for many years before coming home and joining the police department. That man had seen some things.
“Fuck off” she growled.
Jaw tight, he abruptly turned and walked away. The dude was scared of her. She was barely five foot, but she had a sharp tongue and even sharper claws. I didn’t necessarily blame him, but it took a lot to scare our sheriff.
“If they fight I’ve got twenty dollars on Frankie,” Logan said, handing her a T-shirt.
She gave him a smile.
“How’s Muffin?” he asked, switching immediately to caring vet mode.
“So much better,” she gushed, her demeanor doing a total one-eighty. “He’s eating again. Thank you again for the house call.”
“You make house calls for cats?” I asked.
“For Frankie, who fixed my Jeep last winter and had it back to me in two days so I could drive to Boston for that continuing education clinic during a snowstorm? Yes. I make house calls.”
The two of them wandered toward the bakery boxes, and as what looked like the last of the crew gathered, I whistled loudly and climbed up into the bed of my truck. I had to put at least a few rules in place, and this was the part where I had to pretend to be in charge.
“Thank you all for coming.”
“Chainsaw Fest 2026!” Jasper cheered.