Tressa started at his scuffed-up work boots, slowly took in his clean but faded jeans and chambray shirt, up to his eyes and hair. “You said you’d come to help? Why?”

“Thought you could use it and I’m caught up on my plowing for today,” he said.

“Good. I like a man who’s willin’ to work. Come with me and I’ll show you what to do. I expect you can use a drill and hammer, right?” Tressa asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Raylen said.

“Good, you can help Blaze put up the Ferris wheel.”

“But…” Liz stammered. Raylen hadn’t come to the carnival to help Blaze. He’d come to spend time with her. Was Aunt Tressa just plain stupid?

Marva Jo laid a hand on Liz’s shoulder and shook her head. “Let it be,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“If he survives tonight, he’ll pass the test,” Marva Jo said.

***

Blaze had just busted a knuckle when a stubby screwdriver bounced off the platform leading up to the Ferris wheel. He was cussing a blue streak and holding one hand with the other when Raylen and Tressa walked up.

Tressa grabbed his hand and pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket. “Hold it tight and stop the caterwaulin’. That won’t make it stop hurtin’ or bleedin’.”

“It’ll sure make me feel better.” Blaze clamped the tissue down on his knuckle to stop the blood flow and glared at Raylen. “What’s he doing here?”

“He came to see Liz, but I stole him. He’s going to help you. Looks like you need it if you can’t even get the ramp up,” Tressa said.

“The screwdriver slipped,” Blaze said through gritted teeth.

“Then be more careful. Raylen, do whatever he says. Two strappin’ fellows like you ought to have this Ferris wheel up and runnin’ by bedtime,” Tressa said as she walked away.

“You any good with mechanics?” Blaze asked.

“I can tear down a tractor and put it back together,” Raylen answered.

“Then I reckon you’ll do. Right now, we just got to get this ramp put together and then bring the seats out of the truck and fasten them into place. Motor is runnin’ good, especially for the end of the season.” Blaze didn’t want to work with Raylen, or even talk to him, but he was Colleen’s brother.

“Got an extra screwdriver?” Raylen asked. “I didn’t bring my toolbox. I thought I’d be hanging out with Liz, not helping you.”

Blaze nodded toward a red metal box sitting about three feet from Raylen. “Too bad about that. Liz doesn’t belong anywhere but in the carnival, so why don’t you just get out of her life so she can make the right decisions.”

“I reckon she’s old enough to make up her own mind where she should live,” Raylen said. “What do you need me to do?”

“I’ll hold this end up if you’ll get that one fastened down,” Blaze said. “She’s confused, but she won’t ever be happy anywhere but with us. She’ll regret it if you push her into a relationship, and then both of your lives will be miserable.”