Luke regretted ever inviting Freddie to the barbecue. It wasn’t because Freddie was an embarrassment, or because Reagan Ann was misbehaving — quite the opposite. It killed him to see how a presentable man and his polite little daughter were treated so badly by the people Luke called his family. It made him think that even the little bit of goodness he saw in them was a lie.

His mother, a stubborn, emotionally insensitive woman, pretended that Freddie and Reagan Ann weren’t at the barbecue. Luke’s delinquent sister, Mel, glowered at them any time they came within her field of vision. Luke steered clear of her for the evening. The last thing he wanted was for Freddie to feel uncomfortable, and it tore him apart to think that he’d already had such negative experiences.

Dinner was informal, thankfully. Luke made sure that Reagan Ann had a hotdog before he served Freddie, then himself. They went to sit beneath the tree to eat, Reagan Ann cuddled up between them like they were her armchair. Luke didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad that she was so comfortable around him already. He’d never dated a single dad before, but he got the feeling that not every child was so quick to warm to their parent’s new love interest.

“This tastes good,” Reagan Ann said. She took another big bite of hotdog. “Mmm!”

“It’s the barbecue that does the trick,” Luke said. He rested his back against the tree, his hotdog already eaten. Usually he had a bigger appetite, but after what had happened that day, he didn’t feel much like eating at all. What Reagan Ann had said still haunted him.

Can you tell me why the angry lady we talked to before smelled like camping?

Luke knew what she was talking about. The great outdoors. The smell of nature, of fresh air, and of the sun as it warmed everything around it. Then, at night, the campfire. Soot, ash, creosote...

Mel smelled like fire.

He’d gone numb to the smell of it from work, but now that Reagan Ann had brought it up, the scent was undeniable. Mel had been messing around with fire again, and Luke had a sinking feeling that she might have been doing it for a while.

He didn’t want to think about it. Not now. The thought that his sister might be up to something malicious pained him like nothing else.

“What are you doing tonight?” Luke asked to distract himself. “I’m thinking that we’ve made a long enough appearance at this barbecue. It looks like my friends aren’t going to show up like I thought they would, and I’d rather spend the night doing something fun than sitting around here waiting for people who may or may not show up.”

“Well, Reagan Ann’s bedtime is coming up,” Freddie said. Reagan Ann groaned. “So we’ll be heading home before long so she can start unwinding and getting ready.”

“I don’t want to take a bath,” Reagan Ann sulked. “Pleeease can I not? I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Freddie asked.

“Because I don’t wanna get wet,” Reagan Ann said. “I don’t like when my hair sticks to my neck. It’s gross.”

“Then you’ll have to sit with me in the bathroom so we can blow dry it,” Freddie said. He yawned and rested against the tree. The curvature made it so they sat at an angle from each other, and Luke only saw part of him in profile. “You’re always so squirrely after a bath. If you would let me dry you like I try to, you wouldn’t have hair sticking to your neck.”

“But the dryer hurts,” Reagan Ann whined. It looked like she was starting to get tired — her usually chipper attitude had begun to go sour. “It makes my skin feel like it’s on fire.”

“You know, Luke is a firefighter,” Freddie said. “I bet he could tell you all about what it feels like to actually be on fire.”

Reagan Ann was quiet for a long moment, then she looked up at Luke with wide eyes. “Have you been on fire, Luke?”

In a performance fit for a Golden Globe, Luke said, “A few times. Trust me, it’s nothing like having a hairdryer on you... but you know, hairdryers can be dangerous, too.” He glanced at Freddie. “Hot temperatures can blister and burn the skin just like fire does. You have to be careful when you’re using anything that generates heat that you don’t hurt yourself. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

“If I caught fire, would you save me, Luke?” Reagan Ann asked, stunned. “I don’t want to catch fire. Never ever.”

“I would save you,” Luke promised. He mussed her hair. “Again and again, if I had to. But I think your daddy wouldn’t let you get into a situation like that. He loves you too much.”

“I know,” Reagan Ann said. “But there are always accidents, like our house. You saved our house, didn’t you, Luke? Did you go into the fire?”

Luke’s heart shot into his throat, and his pulse started racing from anxiety. It was rare that he felt so nervous. “I did my best to save your house, but fires are bad, bad things, and sometimes, they don’t let you save everything the way you wish you could.”

The upstairs had suffered the worst of the damage. The forensics team had determined that it was arson.

But it couldn’t be...

“I’m happy that you tried,” Reagan Ann said. “Thank you for being brave. Fire is scary.”

“It is.”

But what was scarier was knowing that there was something wrong — very wrong — happening so close to home. Luke closed his eyes and tried to let it go, but he couldn’t. It stayed smeared on his soul like blackened ash. The rotten thing inside of him could be forgotten, but the smell would always remain until he scrubbed it out.

Until he made it right.

Luke just didn’t know if he was strong enough to see it through, but with a wonderful new family gradually accepting him as one of their own, he had no choice but to try.