38. Noah
Chapter 38
Noah
I was impressed. The Lovewell Lumberjack Festival was a lot bigger and grander than I’d imagined. I knew Vic had been working for months, but she’d seriously downplayed the magnitude of this event.
The town common had been transformed. It had been decorated with balloon arches and plaid signs, all bearing the food pantry’s logo. A massive stage had been erected, and the periphery was lined with vendor booths and food trucks. The morning air was cool, but dozens of people rushed around, already sweating, furiously setting things up.
Vic was wearing cutoff jean shorts that showed off her legs, and her plaid shirt was knotted at the waist. She looked like the Maine version of a pinup girl. Fuck. I couldn’t help but grab her as she passed and plant a kiss on her lips.
Next to me, Jude cleared his throat.
I ignored him. Like it was possible to control myself around this woman.
“Hey, guys.” Vic talked a mile a minute, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “So happy you’re here. We’re almost finished. Jude, could you find Alice? She needs help with a few event setups.”
With a silent nod, he headed off in search of Vic’s friend.
“And you.” She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me again.
I grasped her hips and squeezed, relishing the way my fingers dented the exposed flesh there. “I’m here. Put me to work.”
“You’re going to help Henri set up the food pantry booth, but first, I have a favor to ask.”
She batted her long, dark lashes at me. If she’d asked for a kidney like that, there was no way I’d say no.
“Anything.”
“So, your brothers are competing…”
I nodded. Of course they were. They did this stuff all the time. People up here didn’t play golf or tennis. They chopped wood for sport. It was our culture.
“I was thinking you should do the boom race.” She trailed her fingers up my chest and bit her bottom lip. God, she was so pretty.
But I couldn’t. “Running along spinning logs? In the lake?” I shook my head, my chest pinching.
“Noah.” Her shoulders slumped. “You’re a super athlete. You’d be so good at it.”
I looked at her in shock. Not possible.
“You run up mountains with a weighted vest while pushing a jogging stroller. You are more than capable of a little log race.” She batted her eyelashes at me, and I was ready to cave.
Noah from fifteen months ago would have signed right up for all of it, but I had to think about Tess, if I fell and got a concussion, who would take care of her?
She patted my cheek. “It’s perfectly safe.” It was like she could read my mind. “And…” She peered over her shoulder. “There may be another reason I’m asking.”
Frowning, I scanned the crowd. “What’s that?”
“Because Graham signed up to do it.”
My stomach dropped. “He’s still here?”
I’d gotten used to seeing Vic’s mother and sisters around town. They were cold but weren’t rude. But I figured Graham would have hightailed it out of here after he couldn’t secure a decent cup of coffee within town limits.
“He was always so obnoxious about running his marathons.” Vic wrung her hands. “It would kill me if he won.” With a thick swallow, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m being petty and ridiculous. Forget I even asked.”
“I’m in.” I fisted my hands at my sides. “I’ll run, chop, climb. Anything you need, gorgeous. Just promise me I can go up against him.”
Lips parted, she bounced on the balls of her feet. Then, between one breath and the next, her expression changed, and she gave me a saucy wink. “Oh, hotshot, you are so getting laid later.” She patted my chest. “Now go build that booth.”
With a salute, I headed off in the direction of Henri.
I guess I was a lumberjack now.
The day’s festivities kicked off with a kids’ competition. They were adorable and frighteningly good.
Tucker, Henri and Alice’s son, could chop wood like a professional. For a gangly teen, he was shockingly strong.
After that, Merry won the teen axe-throwing competition.
Finn and Thor and Tess and I all cheered while Merry hit bullseye after bullseye.
Chest puffed with pride, Finn draped an arm over his wife’s shoulders. “Adele taught her the technique.”
Thor squirmed in his dad’s arms, waving at his big sister.
“Just think, in a few years, these two will be out there.”
I looked at the chubby babies who were morphing into toddlers more every day. I could see it. Summer festivals and days on the lake, waterfall hikes and family cookouts.
And axe-throwing, I guessed. Though I never would have considered it a childhood hobby.
“You want to go out there like your big cousin?” I asked Tess.
She shrieked and kicked her pudgy little legs.
“See?” Finn said. “She’s already a Mainer.”
Everywhere I looked, kids dressed in plaid darted about, their faces smeared with ice cream, having the time of their lives.
As I took in my surroundings, a peace settled over me. This place wasn’t only my hometown anymore. No, with each day I spent here, it was becoming a part of me.
Vic was the perfect emcee. She spent the weekend smiling and laughing, and each time she took to the stage to announce the next event, the entire crowd quieted down to listen. She was truly the most captivating person I’d ever met, and I was certain I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
I did my shift at the food pantry booth, distributing information and accepting donations. The fees vendors paid to participate had covered setup costs, but we were banking on the cost of admission and good old-fashioned donations to get the funds necessary for the food pantry to thrive for the next year.
The silent auction held an impressive number of items, and the game booths were slammed with kids and adults alike. The Lovewell Lumberjack Festival–branded merchandise was well designed and selling quickly.
We were all praying it would be enough.
Vic found me late in the afternoon and gave me a quick kiss. Then she was off to judge the chainsaw art contest. It was epic.
Gus’s carving of Clive won. The whole town had gone wild for it. He’d suggested Vic auction it off, and I had no doubt many people in town would want a five-foot-tall wood carving of a moose. It was Maine, after all.
The crowds were large, especially when Remy Gagnon got up on the main stage and competed against his brothers in the standing block chop. If the crowd was excited about Gus’s carving, they were all-out feral for the guys on the stage.
After handily beating his brothers, Remy took the microphone and thanked Vic.
“Also, my wife and I, along with my sponsor, Racine Trading Company, will be making a donation of twenty thousand dollars to the Lovewell Food Pantry.”
All around me, gasps and cheers sounded. But on stage, Vic lit up like a Christmas tree.
“I hope you’ll join us in donating,” Remy challenged his audience. “My wife Hazel grew up relying on food assistance, so this is a cause very close to our hearts.”
Hazel joined him on stage, smiling and waving. She was younger than me, and I didn’t know her well, but her brilliance was widely known and respected in Lovewell, and so was the work she was doing to better the rural areas of Maine.
“And,” she said, pushing her glasses up, “Remy and I will be at the food pantry booth for the next two hours. We’ll be available for photos and autographs for those of you who donate.”
Vic hugged them both and thanked them and the rest of the Gagnons before she announced the next event. Happiness radiated from her. Her ponytail bounced, and her eyes were bright.
She belonged here. This was her place and her purpose. The way she’d put all this together, then spent the weekend running around, fixing every issue with a smile on her face, further convinced me she was a superhero.
And the people of this town had shown up for her. They loved her just as much as she loved them. Would I ever feel that kind of connection?
I’d never belonged anywhere. I went where I was needed and did my job. I was the guy who could rappel out of a helicopter to help a person in need.
But it wasn’t bravery that allowed me to do it. It was the ability to compartmentalize. To turn off parts of my brain that experienced fear.
And that was only possible because, until recently, I’d no attachments.
There hadn’t been a person waiting for me at home who would be heartbroken if I never returned. Sure, Jude and my mom would be devastated. My other brothers too. Maybe. But I’d kept my distance for a reason.
I’d built my life around the idea that no one depended on me.
That fact—and the freedom it allowed—was the foundation on which I’d built my career. It’s what enabled me to do the job.
But everything had changed when Jack and Emily died. And in the time since, I’d changed too.
These days, I wanted attachments. I wanted to belong to Tess and to Vic and even to this weird little town.
I wanted to go to work, where I could help people, then come home to my family each night. I longed to spend time with my brothers on the weekends. Maybe I’d even pick up wood chopping as a hobby. The life I’d run away from, the life I’d worked so hard to avoid, now felt like the one thing that could save Tess and me.
But even if I could obtain it, how could I avoid screwing it up?