“How could I? Muriel’s all ‘help thy neighbor’ and the guy was literally lying on the ground, bleeding.”

“Why isn’t Muriel doin’ it, then?”

“Are you kidding?” I snort. “The two of them in the same room is like mixing a vat of bleach and vinegar.” The toxic fumes are enough to choke anyone within a mile radius.

Jonah shakes his head. “You still should have said no. That asshole would have said no. He did, remember? When we tried to get him to take Zeke.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to think I’m better than Roy.”

“You are better. Nicer, smarter … A helluva lot prettier.” He leans in and plants a quick kiss against my jawline. “Also, a huge sucker.”

“I’m not milking his goats,” I say with more defiance than I feel.

“You told Muriel that?” Jonah’s eyes twinkle with amusement, knowing full well that I haven’t.

“He has one good arm. He can do it.” Though the instructive YouTube video that I watched earlier suggests otherwise. “Or you could do it, if you come with me tomorrow night.”

Jonah is already shaking his head before I even finish speaking.

“Come on! I don’t want to go there alone!”

“Look at that!” He jabs his fork in the air at the TV screen. “There’s no rain anywhere in the forecast and every day gets worse. I’m lucky I got home when I did tonight. There are hundreds of people on the ground, fighting this. They’re there around the clock.”

I watch the billow of smoke that pollutes the sky. It’s hard to argue with that. It also may be a bad omen for our upcoming plans. I hesitate asking the question, afraid of the answer. “What about this weekend?”

He frowns with confusion.

“For my birthday?” Has he forgotten my birthday?

“Yeah, yeah. Of course we’re goin’.” His brow furrows. “Look, if I’m home in time tomorrow night, I’ll go with you to the asshole’s house. But I can’t promise anything. There’s literally thousands of acres on fire, and what Sam has me and the other guys doin’ doesn’t seem to be makin’ a dent.”

Does Sam have all his guys working as hard as Jonah does? Are they putting this many hours in, too? Or is this Jonah, consumed with a task?

I don’t ask. I smile and say, “It’s okay, I get it.” Though I’m beginning to really not like it. I’m beginning to pray for heavy rain, for no other reason than to ground Jonah. “Can you also try to be home to go with me to the dealer? I want to buy that Jeep, but I want you there with me. I don’t trust that car salesman not to try to swindle me.”

“How late is it open till?”

“Eight. We could probably make it tonight.”

“Not tonight, Calla. I’m beat. Can we try tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I smile, trying to push aside my frustration. “You should see the inside of Roy’s place.” I describe the impressive built-in cabinetry and the countless figurines. “He may be a jerk but he’s crazy talented.”

“Maybe after you milk his goats, you can hire him to build us something,” Jonah says with a smirk.

“I’m not milking any goats!”

“I heard their udders are soft.” Jonah shovels a forkful of salad and chicken into his grinning mouth.

With a heavy eye roll, I collect my dirty dishes, carrying them to the sink.

“Did you talk to Muriel about doin’ the marketing for the carnival yet?”

“No. I haven’t had the chance.”

“Don’t be afraid to challenge her, Calla.”

“I’m not afraid.” I tuck my rinsed plate into the dishwasher. “I just haven’t figured out exactly how to broach the topic in a way that she can’t shoot me down again.” And convince me that I have little to offer around here.

“Tell her you’re doin’ it, end of discussion.”

“So I should use your usual charm and brilliant powers of persuasion,” I say mockingly.

“I get what I want, don’t I?”

“We’re living here,” I mutter. “Why are you so interested, anyway? It’s just a carnival.”

He chews slowly, as if deciding how to respond. “Because I’d feel better knowing you’re meeting more people around here.”

My days certainly wouldn’t feel so long if I had places to go, friends to meet for coffee or a meal. Not that I can see myself lunching with John or Candace, or anyone who makes up the carnival planning committee. “The next meeting isn’t until the middle of July, so I have time.” I wander back over to lean on the island, my thoughts still tangled in the day’s events. “I think Roy has a daughter. Or had one. There’s this picture of him and a woman and a little girl in his cabin. It was old, from a long time ago. He was smiling.” I add, more to myself, “I wonder what happened.”

“Divorce or death,” Jonah says through a mouthful. “Those are the only two options.”

The latter sends a chill of unease down my spine as I think of that little girl’s cherub cheeks. “Maybe that’s why he moved to Alaska.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a person ran here to escape something.” Jonah reaches over to click a key on my sleeping laptop. He frowns at the life-sized, motion-activated witch prop that appears. “It’s a bit early for Halloween decorating, isn’t it?”

“It’s not for Halloween.” I toggle over to the video and play it so Jonah can watch the witch’s eyes glow red and the hair-raising cackle. “I was reading an article today, about how a lady in Eagle River put one of these by her trash bins and she hasn’t had any issues with bears in three years.”

“We don’t have issues with bears, either. We keep our bins in the workshop.”

“It’s not for the bins. It’s for the animal pen. Roy said there’s a persistent brown bear trying to break into his pasture, and we’re a lot closer to him than you think, if you cut through the forest. What if it decides to come over here, too?” I ordered three motion-activated cameras but they haven’t arrived yet. Not that they’ll do anything in the way of protecting us.

“So, you want to put this five-and-a-half-foot, skull-faced, red-eyed witch outside our fainting goat’s pen, to scare off this bear?” His frown still hasn’t wavered, though now it’s coupled with amusement.

“No.” I set my jaw defiantly, daring him to challenge me. “I want to put one on each corner.”

Tree branches scrape the paint of our old pickup truck as I coast along Roy’s narrow laneway at five after six the next evening, having waited for Jonah as long as possible. I knew not to expect him. I know he’s out doing critical, life-saving work, and yet I’m disappointed all the same.

The dogs are barking when I pull up next to Roy’s truck and cut the engine. Muriel had Toby text to remind me to be here at six. She drove Roy home from the hospital at noon today—news that had me shaking my head. Those two have the strangest relationship.

I suffer a moment of fear and doubt before I squash it and hop out. Oscar’s menacing barks calm and his tail begins to wag. He comes close enough to sniff my thigh before darting back. Progress, I suppose. Even Gus has quieted, as if accepting my presence.