“Now, baby,” Howard says, reaching for me, but he stops short. A moment passes before I realize it isn’t the horror in my expression—the disgust that he’ll touch me—that stops him, but the horror in his as he doesn’t want to be near the crutches at my arms.
“You bastard,” I say as angry tears blur my vision of my husband. The man who promised to love and honor me, in sickness and in health, yet has done none of these things.
Carter McClure clears his throat. “As we don’t need this kind of drama right now, might I recommend a room at Donner Lodge, Howard?”
“This is my house,” Howard states, but his declaration has no strength.
“If you don’t get off this land, I’ll testify in a court of law you set that fire yourself,” Scotia warns, and once again, I want to hug my big sister even though I’m confused by her sudden protective nature.
“Now, Ms. Simmons,” Chief McClure begins.
“Don’t you ‘Ms. Simmons’ me, sir.” Her voice brooks no argument despite the fact it’d be a false accusation against Howard.
“Mr. Townsen,” the chief warns.
“I can’t get anywhere with your trucks in my way, but I’ll go,” he says begrudgingly, and then remains where he stands. I look to my side, noting Jedd is no longer close. My eyes find him standing only a few feet away by Vernon.
“Back to the start of the fire,” the fire chief states. “We need to decide if we put her out or let her burn?” Carter keeps his eyes on me. “It’s your call, Beverly.”
It’s my call. Watch the old building burn and hope Boone isn’t inside, or put out the flames on a building which is already a loss. I didn’t know my homeless angel was Jedd’s brother until hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since then. I still don’t know if the homeless man and Boone are one and the same, but I have a strong suspicion they are. I want to ask Jedd what he thinks—let the barn go or put it out—so I turn to him to find him watching me, and something in his expression halts my tongue.
“Jedd?” I question, no longer concerned with the barn but his thoughts and the expression on his face, which I can’t read. He quickly steps up to me, bracing one large palm over my heart.
“Bee, I have to know.”
My eyes search his, still questioning him with only his name. “Jedd?”
He leans forward, kisses me briefly in front of everyone, and then pulls back, keeping his eyes on me a second longer. He’s turning his back on me, and it’s like watching something move in slow motion. The loss of his eyes. The curve of his shoulder. His back, broad and solid.
“Jedd, you promised you wouldn’t leave,” I call out, frantic and panicked as he doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he breaks into a sprint, heading toward the raging flames.
“Jedd!” I scream as I watch him running away from me.
And then an explosion occurs.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
[Beverly]
I wake on my bed. Someone carried me in here as the world went black after the explosion. I remember cursing my legs and watching Jedd disappear. I couldn’t chase him, yet Nathan restrained me anyway, my voice screaming louder than the roaring fire.
Gingerly, I move, struggling to make sense of it all, struggling to find a purpose to sit up, but I need to look out the window. Making my way to my rocking chair, I focus on the burning barn, now a pile of rubble, like a ginormous bonfire. The barn where Jedd built a room against my wishes. The place where I snooped through his things. The space where we spent a night together on his cot. All gone.
Jedd.
I have no idea why he thought entering the flaming structure was a good idea, but I also understand his motive.
His brother. I didn’t know.
I stare at the lulling flames, now settling after the explosion.
Jedd.
Why did you go after him? Why didn’t you let the firemen do their job? Why did you need to be a hero?
I can’t close my eyes; the vision behind them something I don’t want to imagine. I’ll never sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I want Jedd.
Only Jedd.
A singular pulse.
Voices travel into my room, but I can’t make out who says what. Instead, I sit here and watch out the window. I hope Howard is gone. I think my sisters remain.
As I stare through the glass, the display across the gravel drive looks like something from a television program. Fire people and fire trucks litter the area. It’s more realistic than reality television, and while reality television was once the highlight of my days, Jedd had become my reality. He was real.
“It felt like a fantasy,” I say to no one. I don’t flinch when my bedroom door opens and I see the reflection of light from the hall in the glass. Then the door closes.
“Bee?” My eyes shut. I’m already dreaming of him, hearing his voice in my head. Rumpled sheets and sleepy mornings. Quickly, my eyes open. I can’t close them. The visions of Jedd, flames, a fire. There’s a movement in my periphery, and I turn with a start.
“Sweet butter on a biscuit,” I shriek, but my voice croaks as my hand comes to my throat. “Jedd?”
He collapses before me, kneeling between my knees as I sit on the rocking chair. He smells of smoke and burnt ashes and life.
“Jedd?” My hands cover his face, my sight blurring as tears well up. His mouth crashes against mine, and the fantasy feels so real. His lips on me. His breath mixing with mine. His tongue stroking mine. He groans, and I pull back.
“Jedd.” It’s as if I still don’t believe he’s before me. My fingers coast over his face. “You’re…You’re…” I break, sobs catching in my throat as he tugs me to his chest. I hold onto him, covering my mouth to suppress the fear and relief.
“I’m okay, honey. I’m right here. I didn’t go anywhere.”
I pull back. “But I saw you run to the barn. You went into the fire.” My hands rub over his shoulders and down his arms, both of them.
“I didn’t, darlin’. Grizz caught me just before I made it to the door. I’m sorry I scared you, honey. I had to know…I just had to see for myself.” His voice cracks.
“I’m so sorry, Jedd. I didn’t know. I should have told you I was feeding him. I should have told you he was here in the barn, and all this time…”
“Shh, honey. Shh.” So Jedd. He’s soothing me when I should be soothing him.
“Thank you for Boone. For feeding him. For taking care of him.” We stare at one another a moment before his hand curls around my neck, and he tugs out foreheads together. His gratitude sounds like goodbye.
“You promised you’d never leave me.” I close my eyes even though I’m afraid he’ll disappear. A new wave of emotion settles over me.
Jedd slowly pulls back. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Do you hear me? Because earlier…”
My hands return to his face, stopping his words. Earlier, I told him to leave. There was so much happening at once. Too much information to process. I needed space. I needed to think.
“Howard’s gone,” I say, and Jedd nods.