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He holds up the axe. “And so this one. We’re sure?”

He looks so handsome standing there, I can’t help but think, Yes. For once, I am starting to feel sure.

“Yes,” I say.

And while it is true James is very handsome holding an axe, it turns out the key word here is holding. Which has nothing to do with the actual action of axing.

“Your swing is like a limp noodle.”

“There are so many feminine branches,” he exclaims, pulling a branch from his eye.

My arms are crossed over my chest. I’ve felt nothing but amusement watching him ducking down farther and farther over the past ten minutes, trying to hit the trunk hidden somewhere among the green.

I step forward. Put one hand out.

“All right, Daniel Boone. I’m taking over.”

He looks downtrodden. “But . . . I could . . .”

“You did great,” I lie. “But they’re going to start dinner, so . . .”

He looks at me. Glances at my hand. Begrudgingly relinquishes the axe like a schoolchild caught in the act.

It takes me just thirty swings to get the V notch on the front where I want it. Which, I’ll admit, is a new record.

After the first twenty, James, who has been looking at me like I’ve suddenly revealed I’m a rock star, finally speaks up. “I didn’t realize you were a lumberjack.”

His tone suggests this is a compliment. And to prove it, he adds, “An attractive lumberjack.”

“Thank you,” I say between the rhythm of my swings. “I do enjoy an attractive lumberjack lifestyle.”

“Have you cut down a lot of trees?”

“Does Maine get a lot of snow?”

“I feel very inadequate right now.”

“Do you have any special bizarre skills?”

He thinks. “I once tied my shoelace solely with my teeth.” He adds, because it seems important, “I was thirteen.”

I laugh. “Terrific. That’s about as useful as my ability to attractively lumberjack. If we get stuck in the wilderness together, I’ll make us a log cabin while you ensure we have properly secured footwear in the event of broken arms.”

“Sounds good. So, can I . . . try again?”

“Nope. I love this tree. I’m starting to feel competitive and want to kick Genie’s butt.”

“Just maybe once more?”

“Tell you what, when I get into the back cut a little, I’ll sub you in.”

And after the back cut is good and deep, that’s what I do.

I hold back the branches to help him see where he’s going (while keeping my legs well away from his wayward axe) and direct him from a distance on his posture and goal.

“You just have to go after it. Attack.”

He makes a swing.