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figured out men like you. You’ll be right back here trying to pick up another woman to carry off tomorrow night. So thanks, but no thanks.”
    Fury sparked in his amber-brown eyes.
    But before he could retort, the two of them realized something simultaneously: how silent the area had suddenly become.
    Heat again leaped into her face and neck when she glanced at the others.
    In the peak of anger she and Nick had spoken too loudly—all the rest were avidly listening, waiting for more.
    A teasing cheer broke out.
    â€œDamn you, are you happy?” she whispered at him.
    â€œSmooth technique, Romeo,” one of the smoke jumpers called over. “She’s eating from your hand, stud! We’re all taking notes here, chief.”
    â€œWay to go, Nick!” another one regaled him. “You’ve snatched defeat from the jaws of victory!”
    Nick, clearly still angry, turned and walked away.
    Jo tried to return to fishing. But when her pole suddenly jerked with a hooked fish, she was caught off balance. She fell into the knee-deep icy water, her line almost towing her across the pool.
    Her cry of surprise and dismay triggered more laughter.
    But Nick wasn’t laughing. Instead, he was at her side, pulling her to her feet.
    Wet from the collar down, bone-cold from the glacial stream, she could barely utter a thanks between her chattering teeth.
    He met her gaze, his arm like a post, steadying her.
    â€œMen like me have their place in this world. You’d do well to remember it,” he said for her ears only.
    â€œI don’t need a rescuer,” she insisted breathlessly.
    He dropped his hold on her, and she wished he hadn’t. On her own in the shallow rock-bottom pool, she realized how unsteady she was.
    â€œThis’d be yours, I think,” he said, holding out the huge trout on her fishing line.
    Wet, speechless, chagrined, she took the trout.
    His gaze flicked downward to her water-plastered red flannel shirt.
    She didn’t need to look herself. She could feel how cold and hard her nipples were. At the rate she was revealing herself to him, she’d be naked by their next meeting.
    â€œYeah, maybe you’re right,” he said, his tone pensive and bitter. “Maybe I’m the one who needs rescuing.” He sounded as if he was admitting to some kind of deep, forlorn ache.
    He left her standing alone in the pool. But as he ordered his men to hit the trail again, a slyly smiling Hazel piped up.
    â€œSay, boys! Since the fires have sent us this bounty of fish, why don’t you stop by our camp this evening for a fish bake before you go on duty?”
    â€œWe’ve got far more than we can eat,” Kayla added. “Shame to waste it, guys.”
    â€œThat’s certainly gracious of you ladies,” Nick agreed. “Gives us a break from freeze-dried food. Thank you. We’ll be there.”
    He and Jo pointedly avoided looking at each other—a fact that made Hazel’s smile stretch even wider.
    She hadn’t come up here expecting to make another match. But then again, thought the matriarch, the essence of “luck” was merely the readiness to seize a good opportunity.
    Nick Kramer and Joanna Lofton were getting along like a cobra and a mongoose. So far.
    But nothing made Hazel more hopeful than seeing a young couple with deep wells of inner feeling—she had heard it just now, unmistakably, in both their voices.
    Either it would all blow up in Hazel’s face, or she would secure one more marriage and another fine family for Mystery’s dwindling population.
    No middle ground here, she predicted, watching Jo gather up her catch, still frowning.
    They’d either become passionate lovers or mortal enemies.
    Just which outcome, however, was still too hard to call.

Five
    â€œT here’s nothing to it,” Dottie McGratten called out. “You lop off the head, lop off the tail, then just split and scoop.