The Sugar Queen by Tess Thompson

6

Trapper

The next morning,I woke late. Disoriented, I rubbed my eyes and focused on the abstract painting on the wall next to the bed. It was painted with bright yellows, reds, and oranges, and I’d bought it at an auction a few years back because it reminded me of Emerson Pass in the fall. This was my bedroom in my new house. I was home.

For most of my adult life, I’d awakened in strange hotel rooms, sometimes uncertain which city I was in until I remembered who we were to play that day. The travel had grown tiresome quickly. I yearned to be in one place, close to the people I loved. Don’t get me wrong, I’d loved every moment of the game. I lived for the feel of the ice under me as I slammed a puck into the goal.

I got out of bed and headed down to my home gym for a workout. As I lifted weights, I thought about the conversation I’d had with Brandi. Was she correct? Would her love have distracted me from the craving for competition, to push myself to the edge of my limits as an athlete? Did she make the ultimate sacrifice when she sent me off to capture my dreams?

I felt certain now that Brandi had loved me when we were young. She might be able to love me again, if I did things right. Still, doubt nagged at me. What was it she needed to tell me? Was she correct in assuming it would keep us apart?

Then there were my romantic notions. I was afraid to let them get away from me, but I swear I’d already gone down the path of a wedding and babies before I’d even stepped into the shower. I decided to go into town and buy Brandi some flowers and ask her out for dinner.

Outside, the air smelled of smoke. I scanned the horizon and detected smoke from the south. The fire must have worsened overnight. While standing in line at the checkout stand a few minutes later, I learned the fire that had started in the southern mountain from lightning had indeed grown during the night. Winds had picked up and caused the fire to spread across the heavily forested mountain. The houses were in jeopardy. If it jumped the river, so was my rink and the high school.

I left my truck in the grocery store parking lot and walked down to Brandi’s bakery. She was behind the counter helping customers. I got in line like the rest of them, waiting my turn to order one of the delicacies stacked on platters.

“What’re you doing here?” Brandi asked under her breath, while staring at the flowers in my arms. I’d gone all out with a huge bouquet of lilies and roses.

“I brought you these.” I matched her volume.

She leaned closer and spoke through her teeth. “Do not hand me those or the whole town will be talking.”

“Oh, these? They’re not for you,” I said just as quietly.

She flushed, then smiled. “All right, good.”

“I’d like the turkey and cheese baguette, please,” I said in my normal voice. “What do you think of these flowers? I’m taking them to my mama.”

Someone sniggered behind me, and I turned to see Breck standing two people back in the line. “Mama’s boy,” he called out.

“Guilty.” I raised a hand toward heaven as if testifying.

“Take your pick from the stack,” Brandi said.

I chose the largest one. “This will do.”

“That’s eight dollars, please.” Brandi’s cheeks had pinkened to match the roses in the bouquet.

“Eight dollars?” I asked. “That’s a city price for a sandwich.”

One half of her mouth raised in a sassy smirk. “You may have been gone too long, Mr. Barnes. There’s nothing this good where you’ve been.”

“The sandwich and the owner,” I whispered.

“Enjoy your sandwich, Mr. Barnes.” Brandi pointed toward the window. “Preferably outside.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Breck winked at me as I headed toward the door.

So much for thinking it was a good idea to see her at work. I didn’t want to examine too closely why she was so obviously embarrassed by me. Hopefully she just wanted to avoid gossip.

Breck joined me outside at one of the little tables in front of the windows. Wind fluttered our paper napkins. I stuck one between my legs and looked up at the sky, which had turned an eerie orange hue.

I unwrapped my sandwich and took a bite. How could bread be this good? The Havarti melted in my mouth like butter. “This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“I’d say you’re biased but I have to agree,” Breck said. “Brandi knows what she’s doing.

“I heard a rumor that a certain someone was dancing with another certain someone on the street last night,” Breck said.

I gaped at him. “Who told you?”

“One of the girls at my office,” Breck said. “Who heard it from her boyfriend who’s a dishwasher at Puck’s.”

“Great. Now it’ll be all over town,” I said. “No wonder she didn’t want the flowers.”

“Who cares who knows?” Breck asked.

“Not me, but I’m afraid Brandi might.”

“Tell me everything.” Today, his eyes matched the color of his denim shirt.

“Sometimes you act like a girl,” I said.

“I love women, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I didn’t have the chance to tell him anything because just then my mother appeared, spotted us, and came running over.

“Boys,” she said as we both stood, each of us giving her a dutiful kiss on the cheek. “What’s this I hear about Brandi and Trapper?”

Breck laughed. “Have a seat, Rose. Trapper was just about to tell me all about it.”

“Would you like some flowers?” I gestured toward the bouquet on the table.

“I’ll pretend that I don’t know those weren’t really for me,” she said as she reached for half of my sandwich. “Is it true you two were dancing in the street?”

I groaned.

“It didn’t take long, I’ll say that,” Breck said.

“Do I need to worry?” Mama asked as she studied the sandwich.

“About?” I asked.

“Your heart being broken by the same woman twice.” Mama opened her sandwich and rearranged the lettuce, then put aside the cheese.

I bit into my sandwich as an answer.

“You know, timing’s everything,” Breck said. “Maybe it’s time.”

Mama held her stolen sandwich aloft as if contemplating whether or not to eat it. “I told you to move on, but apparently now that you’re a big shot, you don’t listen to your mama.”

“Mama, I listen to you.”

“But not in equal measure to how much you love that girl,” Mama said.

“I’m powerless against these feelings. I can’t help myself. If last night was any indication, she still has feelings for me, too. Or, at least dormant ones I can bring out with my charm.”

“Dancing in the street is charming and romantic,” Mama said. “Something your father would’ve done.”

“They kissed, too,” Breck said.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Apparently the dishwasher at Puck’s has a good view of the street while working,” Breck said, clearly delighted by this piece of gossip. I made a mental note to throttle him later.

“We talked a little, too.” I winced as the image of her face crumpling into tears came to mind. “She wanted me to have all my dreams come true and thought she’d hold me back.”

“That’s so Brandi,” Breck said. “She always wanted everything for you.”

“And not enough for herself,” I said.

Mama nodded. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to court her like I’m Alexander Barnes,” I said. “Old-school, with flowers and gifts and nice dates.”

Mama rolled her eyes. “You Barnes men and this adulation of Alexander borders on ridiculous.”

“It’s legendary, Mama. All Barnes men have an obligation to live as he lived and keep the Barnes spirit of romance alive.”

Breck shook his head. “You inherited those qualities. All I got from Poppy was a terrible devotion to animals.”

“You have your family’s spirit and kind heart,” Mama said. “Your mother has to be one of the best women ever to grace this planet.”

“I know.” Breck’s eyes clouded as he pushed away his plate. “I worry about her. She’s been lonely. I didn’t realize how much until I moved home.”

“She was devoted to your father,” Mama said. “When we lost him, she vowed to never love another man. I can understand that sentiment, given how I feel about Fenton. Regardless, I sure wish she’d be open to the idea.”

“It’s been long enough,” Breck said. “I was fifteen when he passed.”

“Thirteen years,” Mama said. “Hard to believe it’s been that long. I can remember the first time I met them like it was yesterday. We went to dinner, and I was a hot mess. Your father and Fenton were as tight as you two, and I knew if they didn’t like me, I was done for.”

“But they did,” Breck said.

We’d both heard this story many times, but neither of us ever minded when our parents told us of the times when they were all young.

“Your father made me a martini. I’d never had one, and it went straight to my head. I got so dizzy I had to lie down in the guest room. I’ve never been so mortified in my life. Daniel teased me about it for the next seventeen years. Every time we went over to your house, he had a martini waiting for me. The joke never got old. However, I never drank another one. I learned my lesson. My, how I miss him.”

“Me too,” Breck said.

Mama patted his hand. “You’re so much like him. Thoughtful and gentle. He’s looking down from above, so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Rose.” Breck’s eyes reddened. “I’m glad to be back here where people knew him.”

“Anytime you want to talk about him, just let me know,” Mama said.

A sparrow landed on our table. “Hey, little one,” Breck said. “Aren’t you brave?”

“They come for the crumbs, I bet,” Mama said.

The sparrow pecked at the remnants of Breck’s sandwich before hopping away.

“I’ve never seen one do that,” I said. “Even the birds know Brandi’s food is the best.”

“If you’re going to pursue Brandi, what am I going to do about her mother?” Mama asked, as if we’d been talking about her. “Should I reach out to Malinda?” She tapped her nail against the metal table. “It’s been ten years.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I said.

“An invitation to dinner is a nice olive branch,” Breck said. “At least that’s what my mom always says. No one can stay angry while breaking bread together.”

“She’s the one who wouldn’t speak to me after what happened between you and Brandi,” Mama said. “An olive branch might not be well-received.”

I was about to comment when I noticed Breck’s gaze wander. I turned to see that his attention had drifted toward Tiffany, who was walking down the street carrying a wide three-ring binder.

“It’s Tiffany,” Breck said.

Just to torture him, I waved and called out to her. “Hey, Tiffany.”

She smiled and waved back, then scurried over to our table. Dressed in light blue slacks and a crisp white shirt, she appeared to have come from her client meeting.

“How are you guys doing?” Tiffany asked, with a nervous hitch to her voice. Was she nervous to see Breck or my mother, or was it just her general shyness? Mama was technically her boss at the lodge, which would put even the most confident person on edge. Not that it mattered whether you were on the payroll or not. Mama assumed she was the boss of all of us.

“We’re super,” Mama said. “How did it go this morning with the bridezilla?”

“Fine. I think, anyway,” Tiffany said. “She liked the menu ideas I presented.”

“Would you like to sit with us?” I asked. As much as I was enjoying this, someone needed to put Breck out of his misery.

“Thank you, no,” Tiffany said. “I have a lot of work to do.”

I glanced over at Breck. He was moving a crumb around his plate with great care.

“Dr. Stokes, thank you for walking me home last night and for the advice about food for Muffy,” Tiffany said. “I bought a tin of the brand you suggested, and she ate it all up.”

Breck looked up and flashed his warm smile. “Wonderful news about your pooch. She should probably come in for a checkup anyway. Just to make sure she’s just a picky eater and not ill. Free of charge.”

“How kind of you. Thank you,” Tiffany said.

“You’re looking quite smart,” Mama said to Tiffany. “The new wardrobe pieces are suiting you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. I feel like a whole new person since you took me shopping.”

“We had such fun together, didn’t we?” Mama said. “I always wanted a daughter to shop with.”

“I was homeschooled, and my mother made all our clothes,” Tiffany said, seeming to feel obligated to explain. “All the pieces seemed to resemble one another somehow. Out on the farm we didn’t have much need for…what did you call them, Mrs. Barnes?”

“Staple pieces,” Mama said.

“Like this blouse. Mrs. Barnes helped me choose my staple pieces when I first came to work here because my clothes were just awful.”

“The blouse looks nice on you,” Breck said. “A gunnysack would, actually.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. Her knuckles went white as she clutched the folder tightly against her chest.

“Whatever a gunnysack is, I don’t actually know,” Breck said, before turning back to his beloved crumb.

Tiffany brought the folder up toward her chin. “Well, I should go. Like I said, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Have a great afternoon,” Mama said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the staff meeting.”

“Yes, right. See you there.” Tiffany did a slight curtsy, blushed red, and fled.

“Dude, a gunnysack?” I asked Breck.

“I don’t know why I said that—she’s just so pretty that I lost my head.”

“I think you scared her to death,” I said.

“I’ve never known you to be interested in a girl,” Mama said. “I thought you might be gay.”

“What?” Breck and I asked at once.

“Not that anything’s wrong with that,” Mama said.

“I’m not gay,” Breck said. “I’m simply hopeless with women. I’m the one they all want to adopt as their little brother or something.”

“I think she likes you,” Mama said. “Or she wouldn’t have turned so red. I’m feeling a sudden urge to invite Tiffany and Breck for dinner.”

“I don’t know if I should be terrified or happy,” Breck said, chuckling.

“Terrified,” I said.

“Happy. Mama Barnes to the rescue.” She lifted her gaze upward. “This sky has me worried. I’ve never seen it this smoky.”

“Be ready to evacuate,” I said.

Breck’s forehead creased. “I need to come up with a plan for the animals at the shelter.” He looked at his watch. “I better go, actually. I’ve got to go out to the Andersons’ and check on their mama cow. She’s about ready to give birth, and they asked me to come by.”

“The life of a country vet,” I said. “Your work is never done.”

“You got that right,” Breck said, standing. “Keep in touch if we end up having to scoot out of here.”

“Will do,” I said.

He gave us a quick smile and sauntered down the sidewalk to his truck.

“Did you really think he was gay?” I asked.

“He’s always been so nicely groomed and well-mannered,” Mama said. “Especially compared to you and Huck. It crossed my mind a few times.”

“I can assure you he’s interested in women. He had a girlfriend during vet school.” They’d broken up because she was way too possessive and jealous.

“This gives me a new mission,” Mama said. “Operation Tiffany and Breck.”

I didn’t say anything, grateful to have her focused on them rather than Brandi and me. All I needed was Mama’s interfering ways to make a complicated situation worse.

After lunch,I drove out to see Grammie and Pa. The smoky sky had me worried, and I wanted to make sure they had a plan in case the fire jumped the river. I bounced along the dirt road past Camille Stokes’s estate and horse pasture. As I drove by, several horses lifted their heads and whinnied at me.

I passed Brandi’s parents’ driveway next. Their house wasn’t visible from the road, tucked behind a thicket of trees. I hadn’t been there since high school, but I didn’t need to have my memory refreshed to see the cottage where Jasper and his new bride, Lizzie, had moved just before their baby, Florence, arrived.

Other than the acres Alexander bequeathed to his faithful staff back in 1910, the original property remained in our family. For generations, we’d managed to resist developers, choosing the land over money. Every Barnes who wanted one would have a section of land he or she could call their own. My father felt particularly protective of the acreage, seeing it as the most important asset and handed down to sons and daughters. Someday, God willing, I would have children to leave the land, as would my sister.

At the end of the dirt road, I turned right into my grandparents’ place. When my father married my mother, Pa had suggested they take the big house. He was tired of the upkeep. My grandmother wanted a country-style cottage. They’d chosen a flat acre with the mineral-rich soil for Grammie’s gardens and built one exactly to her specifications.

I parked near the barn, scattering curious and remarkably bold hens as I got out of the truck. A vegetable garden, enclosed behind a fence to keep the deer out, burst with tomato plants, beans, squash, and cucumbers. Painted white with dark blue shutters and front door, the cottage stood between two oaks. Wide flat rocks made a walkway toward the house. Flowers and shrubs grew in clusters around the yard, a little unruly rather than manicured. Climbing roses decorated the white fence and trellis.

I went in without knocking. “Grammie? Pa? You guys home?” The house smelled like freshly baked cookies. The scent seemed to have permanently made its way into the walls. This was one of my favorite places on earth.

Grammie’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Back here.”

I passed through the living room, decorated in tans and grays, all soft and comfortable like my grandmother herself.

She was barefoot in front of the kitchen sink, dressed in jeans with the cuffs rolled up and a T-shirt from a Bruce Springsteen tour, circa 2003. I spotted a pair of muddy tennis shoes just outside the French doors that led out to the stone patio.

“Trapper, what a nice surprise.” She had this way of saying my name that made me feel as if I were the most important person in the world. “Give me a hug.”

I wrapped my arms around her small frame. She smelled of dirt and the flower pollen that dusted one shoulder. “What’re you up to, Grammie?”

Tucking a bit of her silver hair behind her ears, she grinned up at me. “I’ve been out in the garden.” She pointed to a bin of red tomatoes in the wide ceramic sink. “I’m drowning in these guys, so I’ll be canning this afternoon.”

“Do you need some help?” I asked.

“I’d love it.” She peered at me. “But aren’t you busy?”

“Nah. For the first time in my life, I’ve got nothing but time.”

Pa came in from outside and said hello in his soft-spoken way, then patted me on the back. Tall and broad-shouldered, even in his mid-seventies he hadn’t slowed down much. Since he and Grammie had retired from running the lodge, he still skied and worked his small farm like a man half his age.

For the next few hours, the three of us worked together. Pa sat at the table, coring the tomatoes. I blanched them in boiling water, then tossed them into an ice bath. Grammie peeled and scooped the seeds out and boiled them once more while Pa sterilized the mason jars. Next, we stuffed jar after jar with the stewed tomatoes. When they were ready, Grammie placed them in the pressure cooker. Steam clouded the windows and made the air thick with moisture. By the end, we had four dozen jars lined up on the kitchen table.

After our work we sat outside under the awning and drank glasses of ice water. Inside, one by one, the lids to the mason jars popped, assuring us they were properly sealed.

“You haven’t done much canning since you left, I bet?” Pa slapped me on the knee.

“Not once,” I said, laughing. “Hotel rooms weren’t too good for canning.”

“We’re glad you’re home,” Grammie said. “There was a time we thought you might never be back.”

“I promised my dad when I left that I’d be back after hockey was done,” I said. “I thought I might have a few years longer than I did, but the old knee didn’t agree.”

“I worried Brandi might keep you away,” Grammie said. “This is a small town. Hard to stay away from anyone you don’t want to see.”

“I’ve seen her,” I said.

“We heard about the dancing in the middle of the street,” Pa said. “Classic Barnes move.”

“Who told you?” I asked.

“Your father,” Grammie said. “Who heard it from Camille, who heard it from Breck.”

“This town,” I said.

Pa chuckled. “Some things never change.”

“By noon the day after our first date, every person in town knew we’d gone down to the river for a picnic,” Grammie said. “Such a scandal back then to be alone in a car with a young man.”

“It didn’t help that someone saw me kiss her,” Pa said.

“On a blanket spread out on the grass,” Grammie said. “Very romantic.”

“That got back to her father right away. Not good for me. He did not care for the blanket idea.”

“Too close to a bed,” Grammie said, laughing.

“What did he do?” I asked.

“There were a few threats and a shotgun involved,” Pa said.

“My father was absolutely opposed to me marrying Normandy,” Grammie said. “We had to elope and beg forgiveness afterward.”

“I had to rescue her from lock and key,” Pa said. “Quite literally.”

“Why did he hate you?” I asked.

“He’d had a disagreement with my father back in the day,” Pa said.

“It was more than a disagreement,” Harriet said. “George Barnes, your Pa’s father, stole my father’s girlfriend right out from under him.”

“Emma, who turned out to be my mother,” Pa said.

“My mother was his second choice, and she knew it every day of her life,” Grammie said.

“How sad,” I said.

Grammie’s bottom lip trembled. “It was. My mother had a sad life.”

Pa reached over and took Grammie’s hand. “Don’t fret, love.”

“I know, I know,” Grammie said.

“Everything worked out in the end because Harriet agreed to put up with me forever.”

“We’ve had a happy marriage,” Grammie said. “That’s what we want for you. Whatever you do, don’t choose someone as a replacement for Brandi. If you want her and she refuses you, don’t do what my father did and marry for spite.”

“I wouldn’t,” I said. “I’m too much of a romantic.”

Pa patted my knee again. “That’s some Alexander in your blood. We come from a long line of romantics.”

“I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but the magic was still there between us,” I said. “But there’s something she’s not telling me.”

“Take it one day at a time,” Pa said. “If it’s meant to be, then it’ll work out.”

“Like with us,” Grammie said, smiling over at Pa. “As hard as my father tried to keep us apart, true love won in the end.”

As my mother had earlier, Grammie peered up at the sky. “Is it me or does it seem smokier than just a few hours ago?”

“The wind picked up this morning,” Pa said. “I’m worried.”

Grammie wrung her hands. “Fire scares me to death. Those poor people out west who didn’t get out in time haunted me for months.”

“Same,” I said. “I was in LA for the Malibu fires. Some friends of mine lost their homes.” I glanced down at my exercise band. “It’s getting late. I better get going. I’m supposed to go to Mom’s for dinner, and I should get cleaned up first.”

They walked me out to my truck. I glanced nervously up at the dull orange sky. “You know, it would ease my mind if you guys had some bags packed in case we have to evacuate.”

Pa nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“I’m going to do the same,” I said. “Camping gear plus some essentials.”

“I hope it won’t come to that,” Grammie said. “But we won’t hesitate if they tell us to go. As much as I’d hate to leave our home, we know to take it seriously.”

I kissed her soft cheek before climbing into my truck, watching in my rearview mirror as they walked toward the house holding hands.

As it turned out,I was not able to ask Brandi to dinner. Mama beat me to it. No sooner had I pulled into my driveway than I received a text from my interfering mother.

Invited the Vargases and Brandi to dinner. Come by at six.

I stared at the message for a good minute. How had this happened? I’d wanted to take Brandi somewhere quiet so we could talk. Having dinner with both sets of parents was not my ideal evening.

Regardless of my apprehensions, I showed up right at six. I parked near the barn and walked around back to the patio. Dad was putting chicken kebabs on the grill as I approached.

“Hey there, son,” he said. “Right on time.”

“I always have a nose for dinner.” A table under the patio awning had been set for six.

Before he could answer, Mama burst out through the French doors carrying a tray of raw vegetables and ranch dressing.

“Good, you’re here,” Mama said. “Brandi and her parents will be here any minute.”

“Mama, what did you do? How did you get them to agree to come to dinner?”

“I went out to their house and just knocked on the door,” Mama said. “I told her this was ridiculous and that it was time to forgive each other and be friends again.”

“How did she react?” I asked.

“Not well. The woman’s so stubborn.” Mama smoothed her cotton shirtdress over her hips.

I had to hold back from catching my dad’s eye for fear I’d laugh.

“Did you apologize?” Dad asked as he thrust his hands into his cargo shorts.

“Yes, I did.” She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know why you had to ask like that. I’m perfectly capable of apologizing. Not that I know what I did, which I’m also perfectly willing to overlook, as this is about my son and the woman he loves, not some petty feud between us. And for your information, she didn’t reciprocate. She stood there during my apology like she hadn’t been at all in the wrong.” She frowned at me. “Don’t look at me that way. If you kids are ever going to make this work, that woman has to be on board. Brandi’s too sweet to defy her.”

“Does Mrs. Vargas hate me?” I asked.

Mama went to the table, straightening forks that were already straight.

“Mama?”

She turned to look at me. “Well, fine. If you want to know the truth, she started going on again about how you ruined her daughter’s life instead of recognizing that it was Brandi who broke it off. Can you believe that? After ten years? I swear, she’s like a child who doesn’t get her way.”

“Rose, did you keep your temper?” Dad asked.

“I certainly did. Even though I wanted to let her have it. I mean, the audacity of that woman, blaming my son for something that wasn’t his fault.”

“I’m not sure what I did to make her hate me,” I said. Other than sneaking her daughter out her bedroom window when we were young. I kept that theory to myself. “I’m surprised she agreed to dinner.”

“I hope it’s not an ambush,” Dad said.

Mama didn’t say anything, but the look of worry in her eyes told me she had hoped the same thing.

I decided to change the subject. “Dad, did you go see Brandi yesterday?”

He opened a bottle of beer and tossed the cap into the wastepaper basket just outside the French doors. “I might’ve dropped in for a sandwich. Why?”

“She told me you did,” I said.

He gave me a look of pure innocence. “I was curious about those sandwiches I kept hearing about.”

“Really?” I asked. “Just the sandwich.”

“I’ll be damned if I sit back and let her get away from you a second time,” he said. “Anyway, it sounds like you owe me a note of gratitude. I heard you kissed her right in the middle of the street.”

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, which were stinging from the smoke. “I did forget how quickly rumors spread here.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew us out of our conversation.

My mother scuttled inside to answer the front door.

I exchanged a look with Dad. “This could be a disaster,” I said.

“I know. But you know how she is. Once she gets an idea, she can’t let it go.” Dad patted my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Just have a nice time. Take Brandi for a walk down to the creek.”

Brandi’s parents came out to the patio with her right behind them. Malinda and Jack Vargas were as attractive as their only child. Ten years had passed since I last saw them, but they appeared remarkably unchanged. A homemaker, Malinda was small and blond like Brandi. Jack had the lean look of a long-distance runner. He worked as a salesman for a technology company out of Denver, telecommuting when he wasn’t on the road.

“How does it feel to be home?” Jack asked as he pumped my hand a little too hard.

“Still getting acclimated, sir,” I said.

“A little slower paced than you’re used to,” Malinda said. She had a flat way of talking that made the most innocuous sentence sound like an insult.

“Yes, ma’am. A little. I’ve missed the slower pace.”

Brandi had drifted over to where my father was opening a bottle of Chablis. Mama asked the Vargases to please sit and if they would like wine. Mr. and Mrs. Vargas sat together on one end of the sectional. I brought them each a glass and sat opposite them. To my surprise, Brandi sat next to me.

Once everyone had their drinks, a long, awkward silence settled between us. I tried desperately to think of something to say. Finally, Dad asked Jack about work. Mom and Malinda started talking about the smoke and how it made their eyes water.

I only half listened, stealing glances at Brandi. She sucked down at least half a glass of wine in the first five minutes.

I whispered in her ear, “You want to take a walk down to the creek?”

She lifted her gaze toward me. “Can I bring my wine?”

“Sure.” I stood and offered my hand.

She nodded and allowed me to lift her to her feet, then waited by the steps down to the grass as I topped off her wine. “We’re going to take a walk,” I said.

“Don’t be long,” Mama said. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour.”

I avoided Mrs. Vargas’s glare as I grabbed my beer, and the two of us set out together.

I waited until we were a good distance from the patio before speaking. “Well, this was unexpected,” I said.

“Yeah. Mom sprang it on me just as I was getting ready to call you,” she said.

“You were going to call me? I thought I scared you away with the flowers.”

She nudged me with her elbow. “Yes, I was going to call you. I was at work today or I would’ve earlier. I’m sorry about my reaction toward the flowers. I was embarrassed in front of my customers.”

“It’s all right. My fault. I should’ve known better than to bring a bouquet to your work,” I said. “I forgot how gossipy this town is.”

We walked over the manicured grass until we reached the fence that enclosed the landscaped part of the yard. A wide, flat meadow led down to the creek bed. During warm months, we mowed the natural grasses to keep them from growing too tall and wild. I held the gate open for her, and she slipped by me.

“The gesture was sweet. A man hasn’t brought me flowers in a long time.”

I contemplated that for a moment. Did that mean she’d been seeing someone at one point? Had she spent time with anyone in the ten years since I last saw her? The grass made a soft carpet under our feet. A warm wind blew her hair. Wind and fire. I shuddered. Would we be safe? Given the orange sky, I wasn’t sure.

She stooped to pick a buttercup from the meadow. “Here’s a flower for you,” she said.

I rubbed it against her cheek. “Buttercups remind me of you. All sunny and yellow.”

She blinked as she looked up at me. “I forgot how tall you are. How big.”

“I didn’t forget anything about you.”

“Is that true?” she asked.

“I never lie to you.” I wrapped one arm around her waist, searching her eyes for any hesitation before I kissed her. She responded immediately, wrapping her free arm around my neck and pressing close. The kiss deepened. I drew her close and ran my fingers down her back. God, she felt good. So right. I pulled away. “I have to stop before I throw you down in the grass.”

She grinned and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “That would be like the old days.”

I held out my hand. “Let’s keep walking before we end up in trouble.”

Her face clouded, and she dropped her gaze downward. What had I said wrong? I didn’t ask. Instead, I took her free hand and led her across the meadow.

“The whole town knows about last night,” she said after a minute or so.

“I know. Does it bother you?”

She shrugged. “Not really. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

We headed down the slope toward the creek bed. This time of year, the water was shallow and warm from the sun. Still, there was a nice pool between two narrowed sections of the creek where we used to fish and swim.

“Give me your glass,” I said. To get to the water’s edge, we had to climb over a few rocks, and I didn’t want her to slip.

She did so, and I watched as she made her way over the uneven rocks to a section of sand. Years ago, I’d dragged a log over as a makeshift bench. She sat, and I handed over her wineglass.

I eased my long body onto the log, wincing when pain shot through my knee.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Every once in a while. I’m going to be one of those old men who can predict the weather by the pain in my knee.”

We both slipped off our sandals and put our feet in the creek. After the water settled, minnows drew near, cautiously at first until their curiosity got the better of them. I sipped my beer, conscious of Brandi’s body heat and wishing I could take her in my arms and make love to her as I had when we were young.

She giggled as minnows nibbled at her toes.

“You always had the most ticklish feet,” I said.

“It’s embarrassing when I get my toes done at the salon,” she said. “I can’t stop laughing.”

“I’ve missed your laugh.”

“I missed yours, too,” she said. “We might’ve gotten a little carried away last night.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. Maybe dancing in the middle of the street was a little over-the-top?” She smiled, then leaned her head against my shoulder. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I know it’s a little much. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve said you’re sorry too much in the last twenty-four hours. You shouldn’t have to say that to me. Not now. Not after all the ways I hurt you.”

“How about if we just start fresh? Forgive whatever happened in the past and see what’s here?”

She didn’t answer for a long moment. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

She didn’t speak for a long moment. More minnows came, swarming around our ankles and feet.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can tell you.”

I chose my words carefully. My gut told me to tread lightly, to make sure she understood that my love was unconditional. “You don’t have to tell me now or any time if it’s something from your past. I don’t care what’s happened between now and the last time I saw you. All I care about is the future.”

She tossed a stick into the water. “Do you know what I’ve figured out since then? You’re a lot better a person than me.”

I lifted a section of her hair, loving the silky texture in my coarse and calloused hands. “That’s not true. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. And I have extremely good taste.”

“You were always my favorite, too,” she said. “When you left, it was like part of me disappeared. I was so lost, Trapper. So sad.”

“I’ve been thinking about something I want to tell you. We were always Trapper and Brandi in the same sentence. As painful as it was, maybe breaking up is what we both needed. You deserved to be just Brandi, rock-star businesswoman. I’m sorry I made it all about me back then without considering your feelings. I was so full of myself. It makes me cringe to think about how I acted.”

“You weren’t. Not to me. You were always generous and kind and loving. It hurt like hell to watch you leave. There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about you.”

My heart soared. “Do you know how much it means to hear you say that?” I smiled at her, then leaned down and kissed her softly.

“That time with you was the best of my life.” Her voice wobbled slightly. “The minute you drove out of town, it’s like the lights went out.”

“Have you been happy, though?” I asked. “When I thought about you, I always hoped you were happy.”

She looked at me with eyes that read more sad than happy. “I guess so. What’s happy really even mean?”

“Fulfilled might be a better word. Were you fulfilled? Content?”

“I’ve led a quiet, uncomplicated life, with routines and discipline. My business gives me joy. I never really knew where my place was in the world until I opened the shop.”

“I kept waiting for the day the guys called and told me you were married,” I said.

“I figured you’d come home with some actress on your arm.” She wriggled her toes, and the minnows scattered. Her toenails were painted pink and so cute I wished I were a minnow so I could nibble on them. “Were any of those women you were linked to serious?”

“No, never. Just casual dating.”

“So, you had sex with them?” she asked.

“I’m not a saint.” I tugged at the collar of my shirt.

“I’m not going to think about that.” She set aside her wineglass, then drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

“What about you?” I asked. “Has there been anyone?”

Her shoulders rose and fell as she took in a deep breath. “No. I shut myself down. Closed for business. No one else would ever be you.”

“You’ve not dated at all?”

She uncurled her legs and put her feet back in the water. “I’ve been too busy with the shop to even think about dating. I work, go home, microwave a frozen dinner, watch TV or read, then go to bed to do it all over again.”

“You might be surprised how similar my life was to that,” I said. “Work was all I did for the last ten years. I had to be so disciplined about my diet and working out and keeping my nose clean, there wasn’t time for much else. It might seem glamorous to other people, but the life of an athlete is more about focus than fun.”

“Was it everything you dreamed of when we were small?”

I traced her jawline with my thumb. “Here’s what surprised me. After I got everything I wanted—the prestige and the winning seasons and all that money—I still felt the same inside. I never stopped thinking of myself as a boy from Emerson Pass. I’m prouder of being from here than I am about anything else. I’m from the DNA of great men. I’m a loyal friend and good son and grandson. That’s who I am. Much more so than playing professional hockey in LA. Nothing changed. At the end of it all, my origins define me, not that game. I didn’t know that when we were kids. Does that make sense?”

“I think so. But you made it all come true. Whereas I’ve just been here.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. We’ve all come back.”

“You guys had somewhere to come back from,” she said.

“Why didn’t you go to college? You’d applied other places, right?” Her mother had made sure of that.

“I didn’t get in anywhere.”

I drew back, shocked. “What?”

“I couldn’t tell you at the time. I was too mortified. Not one of the places I applied would take me. My SAT scores were low, especially in math. I didn’t have the college prep courses you guys had. Really, I have no idea why I thought I’d get into the places you and the guys were applying to.”

“I had no idea.” Had that been why she’d gotten it in her head she wasn’t good enough for me?

“No one knew but my parents. I’d wished I didn’t have to tell them, either.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you are,” I said. “I hope I never made you feel like that.”

“Not you. My mother took care of that all by herself.”

“I’m sorry I was too wrapped up in my own stuff that I didn’t notice something was wrong. I felt you withdrawing, but I thought it was just nerves. I wish I’d known so I could’ve reassured you. You’re perfect just the way you are. A fancy degree doesn’t mean crap to me.”

She bumped my shoulder with the side of her head. “You always were the sweetest guy in the world.”

“You’ve built a successful business all on your own, from your talent. That’s something to be very proud of.” I lifted her chin, forcing her to look in my eyes. “Do you hear me?”

“You always built me up, made me feel like I could do anything,” she said. “I’ve missed that.”

“I say the truth. That’s all.”

We sat together with her head on my shoulder, watching the bugs play on the water. Her admission had made so many things fall into place for me. I’d always wondered why she hadn’t gone to college. The guys knew better than to mention her to me, but Mom had told me she decided not to attend college and that she’d opened a bakery a few years after high school. I’d been surprised, but I hadn’t let myself evaluate it too carefully. She’d always loved to bake. Now that I thought back to school, I remembered how much she’d struggled academically. I suppose if I were to examine it truthfully, I’d have to admit I helped her get through high school. I wrote most of her papers and spent long hours as her math tutor. Her difficulties never made sense to me, because she was one of the brightest people I knew.

“I remember you struggling in school,” I said. “But I didn’t understand it because you were always so much smarter than me.”

“There’s an explanation,” she said. “I’m dyslexic. I didn’t know until a few years after we graduated. A friend suggested I have myself tested, and turns out I’m not actually stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Brandi. Don’t ever say that.”

“I thought I was.”

“Why weren’t you ever tested when we were kids?” I’d never thought of it before, but it was odd that no one ever questioned why school was so hard for her. My mom would’ve been all over that had it been my sister or me.

“My mother refused.”

“Why the hell would she do that?” I asked, immediately hot.

“I don’t know. I’ve never asked her.”

“You should,” I said.

“We’re not close. I disappointed her by opening the bakery instead of going to community college. It’s better when we don’t see each other.”

“And the business totally took off,” I said. “You get the last laugh.”

“Not that she would ever acknowledge it. Don’t look at me that way.” She smiled and kissed my cheek.

“What way?”

“Like you feel sorry for me,” she said.

I did feel sorry for her, not because I thought any less of her for her choice of career but because her mother was such a witch. “I admire you. No pity here.”

“You know just what to say to a girl.” She picked up her wineglass. “We better get back. If we’re late for dinner, our mothers might send us to our rooms.”

“I don’t want to, but you’re right,” I said as I stood and offered her my hand, then lifted her to her feet.

I took her hand, and we traipsed through the wildflowers and the grasses. Overhead, the sky had a strange orange glow, like the end of the world was near. “I don’t like this sky,” I said. “It gives me the creeps.”

As we passedthrough the gate into the yard, my dad met us on the lawn. “We got a call to evacuate,” he said. “The entire southern mountain’s on fire, and it jumped the river. With this wind, they’re afraid it’s moving too fast to contain.”

“That’s where Garth’s house is,” I said, thinking out loud.

“And Crystal’s,” Brandi said.

“Your parents left to grab a few things from their house.” Dad took the empty wineglass and bottle from our hands. “We’re supposed to head to the high school in Louisville.”

“I don’t have my car with me,” Brandi said.

“Forget the car,” I said. “You’ll go with me in my truck. I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said.

“Don’t dawdle,” Dad said. “This is no time for sentimentality.” The fear in his tone scared me. Dad was not one for the dramatic. If he believed we were in danger, we were. He loved this house and property. All of our family history dwelled in every board and crevice of this house. Leaving it defenseless was the last thing he would ever want to do.

“We’ll see you in Louisville,” I said.

“Keep your phones,” Dad said. “Your mother will be frantic.”

“You do the same,” I said.

Minutes later,we arrived at my house. “Do you want to come in? I’ll be less than two minutes. I already have all the camping gear packed up.”

“I’ll go in to use the bathroom,” she said. “Who knows how long we’ll be in the truck.”

In the house, I directed her toward the powder room, then ran upstairs. I snagged my toiletry bag from where it hung in the bathroom. From years of travel with the team, I always had it packed. I found a spare toothbrush for Brandi from the bag I’d gotten from the dentist at the last cleaning.

When I came downstairs, Brandi was waiting for me by the powder room. Together, we went to the garage, where I had the camping gear stacked in one corner. I added another sleeping bag to the mix, along with a mat. Everything went into the back of the truck. Then I lugged the plastic container that stored my gas cookstove and some old pots and pans to the corner of the truck bed. I ran back into the garage for my cooler. Fortunately, I had two bags of ice in my garage freezer. I added that along with a huge pack of frozen hot dogs, hamburgers, and buns I’d bought at the Louisville Costco on my way back home from the airport in Denver. My plan had been to have the guys over for a cookout and some beers this weekend, but that wasn’t happening now.

I hauled the ice cooler out to the truck and, at the last minute, grabbed three cases of beer and a bottle of whiskey—also for the party that wouldn’t happen—and added those to my loot. After dropping those into the truck, I went back one last time for a case of chili and another of baked beans. Survival mode, I guess, had my mind focused on the immediate needs of my friends and family, should this evacuation drag into days and days. I hopped back into the driver’s seat and started the engine, breathless by the time I sped out of my driveway.

We hurtled down the road toward town. “There’s enough food back there for an army,” she said, teasing.

“I don’t know what it will be like down there. The stores might not have anything left by the time we get there.”

“This is weird,” she said. “I’m scared.”

“All this is just a precaution,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Everything will be fine.”

I drove us into town. A mushroom of dense black smoke hovered over the mountain. Red and orange flames shot up from under the cloud in angry bursts.

“Crystal’s house is up there somewhere,” Brandi murmured.

“Same with Garth’s,” I said. “If it jumps the river, the rink is in its direct path.”

“And the high school.”

We were a block from the bakery. “Do you want me to stop so you can grab a few things?”

“Yes. I’ll hurry.”

I pulled into the alley next to the bakery, and she jumped out, then unlocked her door and disappeared.

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. Her compact car was parked behind the building. I didn’t want her to separate from me. Could I convince her to stay?

Less than five minutes later, she jumped back in the truck with a duffel bag and a hatbox. “I’m ready.”

“You want to stay with me?” I asked. “Or take your car?”

“Stay with you. I’d rather not be alone.”

“Good. I want you here.” We exchanged a quick smile before I pulled back onto Barnes Avenue. Normally quiet in the evenings, the side of the street that headed toward the highway was packed. We crept along for a good five minutes.

The highway was no better. Cars inched east like ants marching home. We continued at twenty miles an hour as town faded from my rearview mirror. Brandi was on the phone with her dad, assuring him that we were fine. “I’m with Trapper in his truck. We’ll see you in Louisville.”

“Everything okay with them?” I asked.

“Other than my mother shouting instructions into my dad’s ear, yes.” She frowned. “I’ve called and texted Crystal two times already, but there’s no answer. Do you think she’s all right?”

“If I had my guess, she’s driving and can’t answer the phone.”

My phone chimed with a text, probably from the guys. I slid it across the seat to Brandi. “Can you see what that is?”

She picked it up and squinted at the screen. “What’s the pass code?”

I immediately went hot. The pass code was the same as all my passwords—Brandi’s birthday. “It’s your birthday,” I said.

“Trapper, really?”

“I know. Embarrassing,” I said.

She set the phone on the dashboard, unbuckled her seat belt, and scooted over to kiss me on the cheek. “I love it.”

I love you.

“Get back into your seat belt,” I said, gruffly.

She gave me one more kiss before bouncing back to her place and buckling her belt. My phone pinged again.

She grabbed it from the dashboard and looked down at the screen. “There are two messages. One from Breck and another from Huck. They’re both asking if you’re headed out of town.”

“Tell them I’m fine and that you’re with me.” She clicked away at the phone. A second or two later, it rang again.

“Breck says he’s glad we’re together. And to take good care of me.” She fanned her eyes. “That’s really sweet. And makes me want to cry. When you guys left, I didn’t think I’d ever have any of you back in my life.”

I reached over and took her hand. “We all missed you as much as you missed us.”

“Huck says he’s staying to cover the fire and not to do anything stupid.” She set the phone on the seat. “Like stupid, how? As in, not evacuate?”

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s a strange thing to say,” she said. “You’re always the most responsible guy in the room.”

“Yeah, but Huck’s kind of an old lady that way. Nervous.”

“Breck texted again. He’s at the shelter,” Brandi said. “Picking up all the animals and then he’ll head out.”

My hands started shaking. Breck would be too close to the fire. I gripped the steering wheel. Should I go back and help him?

As if he read my mind, another text came through. Brandi relayed the information. “He says he’s fine and that Tiffany and his mom are with him.”

“Tiffany? I wonder how that happened?” I asked.

Brandi bent over the screen. “Another one from Huck. ‘And whatever you do, don’t sleep with her.’”

I cleared my throat. “Maybe you better give me that.”

She slid the phone across the seat without meeting my gaze. I grabbed that sucker and pulled up Breck’s number. It rang one time before he picked up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. We’re here, loading up the dogs.” He grunted, followed by the whine of a dog. “I had to swing by the clinic first. We had a dog in for observation, so he’s with us too. We’re almost done. Just have a few more cats. They’re all in carriers, thank God.”

“Why’s Tiffany with you?” I asked.

“She was with me at the office with Muffy when we got the call to evacuate. Her car is unreliable, so I convinced her to stay with me.” His voice lowered. “She’s completely terrified. Muffy’s not doing too well, either.”

“That makes three of us,” I said. “Just get the hell out of there, okay?”

“Roger that,” Breck said. “We’ll see you in Louisville.”

“Why would Huck be concerned if we slept together?” Brandi asked when I hung up.

The muscles in my neck constricted. “He’s protective of me, that’s all.”

“And he hates me for what I did,” she said.

“Hate’s a strong word.”

“Huck never approved of me,” Brandi said. “Or liked me.”

“I suspect it’s the opposite. He always had a thing for you. Breck says Huck felt guilty about being in love with my girl and hid it by being a jerk.”

Her eyes widened. “That can’t be right.”

“Breck’s always spot-on about things like this.”

“Do you think he’ll be upset if we get back together?”

I grinned at her, despite my nervousness over our situation. “Are you asking me to go steady?”

She punched my thigh. “Trapper, I’m serious.”

“Yes, I will go steady with you. However, I’m not sure where my varsity jacket is.”

She laughed. “No deal unless you have the jacket. I want to wear that thing around town like I used to.”

“You were so cute in my jacket.”

“I was over the moon the first time you ever asked me to wear it.” A sadness in her voice caused my chest to ache.

“What makes you sad about that memory?” I asked.

She hesitated a moment before answering. “I miss feeling that the most important thing in the world was that the boy I loved wanted me to wear his jacket. Being so in love and carefree and ignorant of how life can bring you to your knees in an instant. Back then, I lived totally in the moment without any fear of the consequences of my actions.”

“Give me your hand,” I said.

She leaned closer and placed her hand on my upper thigh. I brought it to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sorry for whatever brought you to your knees. I’d fix everything for you if I could.”

“I know, Trap.” She withdrew her hand and trailed her fingers down my neck before straightening.

We crawled along, quiet. I glanced nervously into the rearview mirror, hoping each time for a miracle. There was none. The horrifying black cloud remained.

Brandi shifted in her seat. “What if the whole town goes up in flames like the one in California? Those poor people have been displaced ever since. We’ve always had Emerson Pass to either go home to or stay home in.”

“They’ll get it contained before that happens,” I said.

“Always the optimist.”

“You used to like that about me.”

“I did. I do. I’m always too afraid to be optimistic. Right now, I’m afraid I’m going to lose the only thing in my life that gives me a purpose.”

“They’re only buildings. You have insurance, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“If we lose the bakery, we’ll rebuild. As long as you’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

“We?”

I laughed and tugged at one ear. “I mean, we as a community, not we as a couple.”

“I kind of like the word we,” she said. “As in you and me.”

“I will find that varsity jacket if it kills me.”

A few seconds went by with Brandi staring out her window before she turned back to me. “The equipment alone is worth thousands and thousands of dollars. Who knows how long insurance claims could take?”

“It’s going to be all right.” I wasn’t at all sure if that was true, but I knew how she could worry herself into a frenzy.

Behind us, a car beeped its frustration at the snail’s pace. I wanted to answer back with my own frustrated beep, but refrained.

I squeezed her knee. “You know, when Alexander Barnes discovered Emerson Pass it was nothing but a bunch of scarred wood from a fire. The miners had all gone after stripping the mountains of gold and silver, and all that was left were a few bitter men. That’s why he rebuilt everything in brick. These buildings are over a hundred years old. They’re tough. Like you.”

“I’m not sure I’m tough.”

“If you could see yourself from my eyes, you’d know I’m right.”

She swiped at her phone and made an impatient sound from the back of her throat. “Still no text from Crystal.”

“She’s probably just driving,” I said. Brandi needed a distraction. “Why don’t you read one of the letters from the box? I’ve never heard any of them.”

“Are you interested or are you trying to distract me?”

“I love reading the journals from Quinn. I mean, now I do. When we were younger, I couldn’t care less.”

“It’s funny how that changes, isn’t it?” she asked as she tugged the top from the hatbox. “I’ll just pick a random one.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She read out loud.

August 3, 1914

Dearest Mummy,

Thank you for your letter with the news from home. I’m sorry to hear of your fall and do hope you’ve done as the doctor asked and stayed quiet.

You’ve asked for news of the children to entertain you during your recovery, so I’ll do my best to tell you about a few of their antics at Florence’s birthday party. For her third birthday, Quinn insisted we throw her a celebration like the Barneses’ children have. She’s worried Florence will feel sad or disregarded unless she’s treated the same. It’s so very American of her to be worried about the child’s sense of self-worth. You’ll find it odd, I’m sure, but things are different here in America, especially in the mountains. Given my daughter’s domineering disposition (so much like her father) I can assure you she’s fine. She and Addie are fast friends, growing up more like sisters. This house is overrun with the little rascals, all growing up together like wild American flowers.

We had cake and ice cream, and the children played croquet on the lawn. The whole gaggle of children were in attendance: Merry’s boy Henry, the Wu children, and the Barnes brood. We’re like an orphanage, albeit with enough parents to go around. All of the children played except for Theo. He read a book about anatomy under the shade of an oak tree. He’s certain he’ll become a doctor and learn how to cure the world of all diseases.

Even Josephine and Poppy, who think of themselves as young ladies these days, joined the fun. I know you enjoy hearing about their dresses and hats so I made sure to take note. Our fair and tall Josephine looked fetching in a pale pink dress with a yellow straw hat. Poppy’s dress was light blue with a lace collar, which suited her small frame. She kept removing her hat to get a better view of the ball and had a pink nose by the end of the afternoon. There are no feathers in the hats now, since we’ve learned they were harming the bird population. (Cymbeline and Flynn fretted for days about the poor birds. They’d live with the animals in the barn if they could.)

Cymbeline grew cross when she didn’t win and threw her croquet mallet against a tree. Quinn had to send her inside as punishment. For a girl of only ten, she’s quite ferocious when she’s angry. Lord Barnes says she will either run the world or rot in prison, and he’s terrified of both outcomes. He’s joking, of course, but Quinn does worry about our headstrong girl. I figure the more headstrong the better. This world is not for the meek, despite what the Bible tells us. (Sorry, Mummy.)

Flynn is also competitive, although he doesn’t have the temper of his little sister. He felt sorry for her, being in trouble more than a few times himself, and asked if he might check on her. Quinn said to wait a few minutes but that, yes, he could talk with her and perhaps suggest better ways to deal with her frustration. Theo, during the kerfuffle, didn’t look up from his book.

Fiona, at seven, is like a little mother to Florence and Addie. She’s such a sweet thing and never grows impatient with her charges. Addie is kindhearted and gentle like her mother, but I’m afraid Florence is a bit of a handful. Like I said, she’s bossy and opinionated and sure of how things should go. She tried to give lessons to Merry’s Henry about how to play croquet. He, as usual, laughed at her and went about his own business.

During all this, Quinn, Merry, and I rested in the shade of an oak and watched, fatigued from the heat. Merry let baby Jack play on the blanket with his blocks until he grew tired and fell over and went to sleep. Quinn’s feeling better since my last letter. The baby will come in the winter, and the doctor assures us all is well. Given her nausea, we’re certain it’s another girl. Poor Lord Barnes will continue to be surrounded by females.

To answer your question about another baby. I’d welcome one, of course, but I’m almost forty now. I doubt another one will come. I’m happy to have my Florence and the others to play auntie to, so don’t be sad for me. I’ve a full, happy life.

When it’s just the three of us at our cottage, Jasper is loving and tender to both of us. Since the day he finally gave in to his feelings, he’s let his heart lead him. His stoic, disciplined ways crumble when in the presence of his daughter. You would not recognize him.

I miss you, Mummy. Please take care and write as soon as you’re able.

Love,

Lizzie

Brandi sighed as she put the letter back in its envelope.

“How did Lizzie end up with the letters she sent her mother?” I asked.

“They were sent to her later, I believe.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes as the words from all those years ago drifted through my mind. No matter what era one lived in, the center of every life was the people one loved.

She picked up her phone. “I’m going to try calling Crystal again.”

I waited, hoping Crystal would pick up.

“Still no answer. I’m really starting to worry,” Brandi said.

“It’s possible she got out of there without her phone.”

“If she had to leave quickly,” she said. “Did you see how lit up the mountain was?” She hugged herself. “I feel sick.”

“I know. Me too.” I reached across the seat and squeezed her knee.

We continued on at twenty miles an hour for another mile.

“Does it eat you up that you never won the Stanley Cup?” she asked.

Surprised by the question, I had to think how to answer. I’d been disappointed. That much was inevitable. A man doesn’t spend his life in pursuit of winning and not feel a sense of loss when the pinnacle of his profession is not reached. However, I had a different perspective on things than some might, having worked on myself to become a more enlightened human. “I’d have loved to win the championship. Those years we got close gave me a taste of what it would’ve been like and I wanted it, trust me. However, how many people are lucky enough to play professional hockey for six years and make that kind of money?”

We’d gone ten miles down by now, dropping in elevation, and no longer able to see the cloud of smoke. The air was less smoky but still hid the blue sky. “Only twenty more to go.” I peeked at the gas gauge. We had three-quarters of a tank. No worries there.

“I should have popped into my kitchen. The day-old stuff was all piled in the back.”

“What do you do with it?”

“I send it over to the assisted living facility.” She curled her hands under her chin. “What about them? How do they evacuate?”

“They have their own bus. They’ll get them out. We had plenty of warning. The firefighters know what they’re doing.”

“You’re simply trying to cheer me up,” she said.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true,” I said.

“How about some music?” I asked.

“Sure.” She twisted around in her seat, clearly uneasy.

I turned on one of the satellite country stations. The same one I’d played for our dance in the street. We made it another half mile as the radio played a George Strait song.

“What was it like in LA?” she asked.

“Fine. I had a little condo in Santa Monica. The beach was awesome. I learned to surf.”

“You did?”

“Not well, but it was fun. A buddy of mine on the team was from out there and spent some time coaching me.”

“The guy always on the ice learned to surf?”

“Weird, right?” It occurred to me that to her, surfing was a symbol of my other life. The one away from here. Away from her. I put that aside to think about later.

Speed of traffic increased as we merged onto the four-lane highway toward Louisville. My chest loosened as we hit forty miles per hour. A roadside sign said Louisville was five miles away.

“Thank God,” she said. “I thought we’d be at that speed forever.”

“You hungry?” I asked. We hadn’t had dinner. By now it was almost eight. The strange orange sun had disappeared. “There are some protein bars in the glove compartment.”

“Starving.” She yanked open the glove box and tossed me a chocolate peanut butter one and took another for herself.

It took us another fifteen minutes before we reached the Louisville high school. A cop stood at the entrance, turning cars away. The lot was obviously full. When it was my turn, I rolled down the window and waited for the bad news.

“Hello, sir,” I said. “All full?”

He greeted us warmly but with an edge to his voice. I’m sure he’d gotten a mouthful all night. “Afraid so.” He looked into the bed of my truck. “You have camping gear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“For anyone with supplies, we’re sending them down to the state campground. It’s another ten miles down that way,” he said, pointing east.

“You sure they have space?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s a giant state campground with bathrooms and showers. You’ll be safe and comfortable there.” He gave us the address, which Brandi typed into her phone.

We thanked him, and I pulled back onto the street. I handed Brandy my phone. “Can you send a group text to Breck and Huck? Tell them to go straight to the campground instead of the high school and pass it on to anyone who’s still on the road.”

She tapped into my phone, then picked up hers to call her parents. They were still on the road but had decided to stay in a hotel. “No, I’ll just stay with Trapper.” She fidgeted. “Yes, I’m sure. Mom, I’ll be fine. Let’s just check in tomorrow morning.”

I called my parents next. Mom picked up and said they’d also secured a hotel room and asked if we wanted to meet them there. “No, I’ll go to the campground with the other guys. I’ve got camping gear and food.”

“Smart boy,” Mom said. “Keep Brandi safe.”

“I will.”

My dad got on the phone next. “Take this as a sign and don’t mess up.”

“Yes sir, I’ll do my best.”