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Monica stopped wrapping sandwiches. “If one of our guests started the fire, I hope he’s given a long prison sentence. He won’t be able to do it again if he’s locked up.”
“I agree with you,” Margie said. “The sooner he’s arrested, the sooner we’ll feel safe.”
Sam looked at Margie. “Do you think he’d torch guest cabins?”
“An arsonist will strike anywhere. They don’t discriminate, Sam.”
Except for the sounds of food preparation, the room fell silent. When the kitchen door opened, it was as if someone dropped a ceramic bowl on the tile floor, startling everyone.
Wyatt stepped a few feet inside before stopping at the lack of noise. “Is something wrong?”
His mother, Margie, turned to face him. “We were discussing what to do with the arsonist.”
“Bet that was an interesting conversation.” He moved next to Daisy. “Fresh cookies?”
“Yes, and don’t even think about stealing one.”
“Dang. Well, I’m here to let you know the fire truck and crew are leaving in about fifteen minutes. If the food is ready, I’d like to start handing it out to the firefighters. Next to the ranch hands and guests.”
“No problem, boss.” Beth looked at those in the kitchen. “Let’s place the food on the tables outside.”
The firefighters were ravenous. Sam didn’t know if the empty bellies came from working the ranch’s fire or if the men were always starving. She suspected the latter.
“How’re you doing, Sam?”
She recognized the voice and smiled. “I’m doing fine, Brady. You?”
“I’m always good.” He reached for a sandwich, stopping when Sam stilled his hand. “What?”
“Are you here as a ranch hand or a Splendor firefighter?”
“Which one allows me to eat now?”
She chuckled. “You are something.”
“So, which one?”
“Firefighter.”
“Great.” He grabbed a sandwich and a package of cookies. “For the record, I did work this as a volunteer firefighter.”
“Never a doubt.”
His face lit with one of his devastating smiles, sending Sam’s insides into a tizzy. She watched as he walked away, shaking her head. Brady Blackwolf, Virgil’s cousin, ranch hand, firefighter, and one of Splendor’s most eligible bachelors.
“Trouble, trouble, trouble,” she muttered.
“Talking to yourself, Sam?”
She winced, hoping Logan hadn’t heard her. “You know how it is.”
“Not sure I do, but if talking to yourself helps, I’d say go for it.”
Chuckling, she held up a sandwich. “Have you eaten yet?”
Logan shook his head. “I’ll wait until everyone else eats. Besides, I know where to find the fixin’s.”
Sam handed out a wrapped sandwich to another firefighter. An older man she didn’t recognize. He wore a patch that read,Captain.
