Free Firelight at Mustang Ridge by Jesse Hayworth Page A

means to us that you all came out here today. It . . . ah . . .” He cleared his throat. “It’s a hard thing for a man not to be able to do for his own.”
    Squeezing his hand, Winny said to the crowd, “A week ago, we didn’t think we were going to be able to rebuild, at least not right away. In fact, we didn’t know what we were going to do. Now, though . . .” She looked around at the blasted landscape, but the way her shoulders squared and her chin came up made it seem like she wasn’t seeing the devastation so much as the progress. “Now we’ve got hope. And hope is a powerful thing. So thank you for that. Thanks to each and every one of you, from the bottoms of our hearts.”
    A sudden fanfare blared from a car horn, an engine revved, and, as if ushered in by some cosmic director—
cue the mayor!
—the loudspeaker-topped truck flew up the driveway, bounced across the burned-out lawn, and skidded to a stop near the picnic tables. The driver’s window buzzed down, and Mayor Teppitt leaned across her assistant to holler, “Hey, there! Who wants pizza?”
    That got some whoops and laughter, and Gabe slung his arm around Winny and shouted, “Thanks again, everyone. Now, let’s eat!”
    As the hungry workers thronged around the truck like something out of a zombie movie playing on fast-forward, Sam couldn’t help noticing one figure going the other way with her hands in her pockets—pretty and brunette, with the kind of curves and curls that stuck in a man’s mind.
    Let it go,
he told himself.
Give her room
. But he couldn’t very well let her starve, could he? Ignoring the logic that said there was zero chance of a guest—even one living out in the boonies—going hungry on Gran’s watch, he worked his way through the crowd, snagged pizza and sodas for two, and dug through a first-aid kit for one of those smash-to-activate ice packs and a foil packet of painkillers. Then, ignoring Axyl’s smirk, he followed her.

6
    T ired of being around people and noise—even the happy kind—Danny slipped away from the party and down to the little pond she had glimpsed from the driveway. Tucked into a low-lying valley that had escaped the wildfire, it had a flat shore on one side that was liberally dotted with hoofprints, while the other side offered a rocky overhang that looked perfect for cannonballs.
    Sitting at the edge of the overhang with her heels hooked on a narrow ledge and nothing but water below her, she gazed down at her own reflection, which blurred around the edges, like she was underwater. It was strangely hypnotic, oddly relaxing. Or maybe the relaxation came from the pull of overused muscles, the knowledge of a job well done, and the pleasant emptiness that had cloaked her mind.
    â€œHey,” a voice said from behind her. “You up for some company?”
    Oddly, the answer wasn’t an immediate
hell, no,
and not just because she recognized Sam’s voice. Twisting around, she found him standing some distance away,looking as sweaty and rumpled as she felt, but holding a couple of beers and a plate of pizza.
    Her stomach growled, even though a minute ago she would’ve said she wasn’t hungry. “Are you going to share?”
    He settled in beside her and put the plate between them. Holding out one of the beers, he said, “To demolition.”
    She clinked her bottle to his. “To using the right tool for the job. And thank you.”
    â€œFor the sledgehammer?”
    â€œThat, the privacy, the food.” She shot him a sidelong look. “I got the
Hulk, smash
urges out of the way, so you don’t need to worry I’m going to go psycho on you after dinner. I just had some things I needed to get out of my system.” She stretched out her free hand and wiggled her fingers. “All gone.”
    He cocked an eyebrow. “You