Chapter 12
Josh
The engines were rolling up the hill before I’d taken my first sip of coffee.
Sighing, I looked down at Wayne. “You ready, buddy? It’s gonna be one of those days.”
Jasper’s Bronco appeared first, and Gabe’s Jeep followed.
As they got closer, I sipped my coffee, already resigning myself to being disappointed. With any luck, we’d have five or six show up. That would at least allow us to get the high priority stuff done before sundown.
“Happy Chainsaw Day,” Jasper hollered as he climbed out of his vehicle.
Another car pulled up, then another, followed by Nolan’s police cruiser.
Shit. In the past, he’d come out to help on Chainsaw Day, and the two of us had been friends all our lives, but since the murder, he’d pulled back, and not just from me but from everyone in town.
Over the last several months, there’d been a strange distance between him and the rest of us, meaning his presence was only going to make things awkward.
“What is happening?” I asked as more and more people showed up. With the stress we’d all been under and the scrutiny that had been put on the farm, I really hadn’t thought many people from town would come.
“Chainsaw Day.” Gabe opened his tailgate and plucked a piece of yellow fabric out of a cardboard box, then threw it at me.
I caught it and shook it out, surveying it. It was a T-shirt, and it read Lawrence Farm Chainsaw Day 2026 on one line, and below it was printed Safety Third.
“Orange,” Gabe said. “For safety.”
“All we’re doing is clearing tree limbs,” I groused. “This isn’t open heart surgery.”
With a chuckle, my cousin shook his head.
Logan, who’d just parked, climbed out of his own truck with a smile. “Shirts? Sweet.” He stripped off his tee and dug an orange monstrosity out of the box, beaming brightly when he’d tugged it on.
“Why are there so many cars?” I grumbled to the three of them. “I wanted help, not to host a town meeting.”
Gabe wandered to the porch. “Can’t it be both?”
“You always fight it,” Jasper said. “But it’s a Maplewood tradition.”
“It’s not a tradition,” I groused, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
“You sure about that?” Logan stroked his unruly beard.
“It’s the last Saturday in September, and like every year, we all showed up with axes and chainsaws to clear branches, take out the dead trees, and clean up the trails before the winter.
” He strode up beside Gabe. “We’ve been doing this for years, and that’s called a tradition. ” He clapped me on the shoulder.
“And you know how much this town loves a tradition,” my brother added.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to tune out the sound of engines. It was no use. When I opened my eyes, several more vehicles had parked and men and women, young and old, many of whom had brought their own chainsaws and safety chaps, emerged.
“Mrs. Moore,” I said to the octogenarian who’d just popped her trunk. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping.” She held up a chainsaw that looked like it hadn’t been used since the eighties. “I’ve been cutting down trees since I was a girl. This belonged to my Merle.”
An image of Mrs. Moore covered in blood spatter flashed through my mind, making my heart race. I shoved it down hard. Panic wouldn’t help right now.
“Don’t worry. I changed the chain last night. And lubed her up.” Smiling, she hobbled over to Gabe, who handed her a small T-shirt.
“Good work, Mrs. Morris.” Logan beamed. “Lubrication is essential.”
Giggling, the woman wandered over to a small group of elderly people who were pulling the bright orange shirts over their clothing.
Nolan eventually sauntered over, wearing his usual serious expression.
“Don’t worry, Sheriff.” Gabe held up a manilla envelope. “I brought liability waivers.”
“That doesn’t actually make me feel better,” I said.
“As your legal counsel,” he retorted, “it makes me feel much better.”
“And I’ve got a spreadsheet.” Paul held up his laptop. He was the local accountant, a smaller guy usually dressed in Oxford shirts, but he handled a chainsaw like a pro. “I’ll inventory the firewood and make sure it’s distributed.”
Paul could always be counted on to have a system. He treated chaos like a solvable equation. If only we could clone him. I needed more Pauls and fewer Logans if I was going to make it through this day.
Summer thunderstorms always left us with dead limbs and trees that needed clearing, so my dad had started doing this years ago.
We cleared it all, hauled it out with the ATVs, and then cut and chopped the wood. Everyone who helped out took home a portion of the firewood for the winter.
It had started with a handful of us, but like all things in this town, it had grown to wild proportions.
“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 into the 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 I don’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.
At his side, Evie beamed at him.
“Safety is our top priority. And we’ve got to be organized.
Make sure you sign in with Paul, then you must provide Gabe with your signed waiver.
And everyone wears an orange T-shirt.” They remained quiet, most of them still stuffing their faces.
“If you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re on hauling duty, no exceptions.
” I eyed Mrs. Moore, wondering if I could convince her to leave the chainsaw in her trunk.
“Jasper and I will each lead a team, one into the tree stands to the east and one to the west. Every branch that needs to come down is marked with orange spray paint. We will direct you in the field. Clear the limbs, and any debris and load it into the ATVs.”
I’d spent weeks marking trees that needed to be downed or trimmed. It was essential if I wanted to keep overly excited volunteers from going wild with their chainsaws and it limited damage to my production.
“Gabe will be leading the clear team. You’ll be collecting downed limbs and branches, keeping the trails cleared. Take photos of any other damage you find and text them to him. We’ve got a trailer for big pieces and another for sticks and kindling.”
A few of the kids gravitated toward my cousin. He’d keep them busy, as well as most of the older-timers. It was much safer that way.
“Logan and Paul will be here overseeing the log cutting and splitting,” I explained.
Some of the firefighters cheered, clearly having chosen that station for themselves.
I scanned the crowd, annoyed yet also grateful for the turnout. This town was full of helpers, whether I needed the help was irrelevant.
Preparing to dismiss the group, I took a deep breath. That’s when I spotted Julian, sitting on the ground next to Wayne, happily listening to my chainsaw safety briefing. He was more focused than half the adults.