Chasing Fire
Page 88

“Don’t. Remember the pretty girl in the photographs. Let me bring Reverend Meece over. I think he’ll be a comfort to you. I promise.”
Though she wasn’t much of a churchgoer, Ella liked Meece, his gentle ways. Irene needed gentle now.
“Thank you so much for doing this, Robert.”
“No need for thanks. It’s a hard day,” he said, looking at the coffin. “The kind of day that shakes a mother’s faith. I hope I can help her.”
As she led him to Irene, she saw a trio of staff from the school come in. Thank God, she thought. Someone came. Leaving Irene with Meece, she went over to take on greeter duties as Irene’s older sister seemed unwilling or unable to shoulder the task.
She excused herself when Irene’s younger sister arrived with the baby, her husband and her two children. “Carrie, would you like me to take the baby? I think Irene could use you.”
As people formed their groups, quiet conversations began, Ella cuddled the chubby, bright-eyed orphan.
And Leo surged to his feet. “You’ve got no business here. You’ve got no right to be here.”
The outraged tone had Shiloh’s lip quivering with a whimper. Ella murmured reassurance as she turned, saw the small contingent from the base.
“After what you did? The way you treated my girl? You get out. You get the hell out!”
“Leo.” Across the room, Irene sank back into the sofa. “Stop. Stop.” Covering her face with her hands, she burst into harsh sobs.
Ignoring Leo, Marg marched straight to Irene, sat to embrace the woman, to let Irene cry on her shoulder.
“Mr. Brakeman.” Irene watched a ruddy-faced, towheaded young man step forward—his jaw as clenched as Leo’s fists. “That baby there is my blood as much as yours, and Dolly was her ma. Wasn’t a year ago I buried my brother. We both lost something, and Shiloh’s what we’ve got left. We’ve come to pay Shiloh’s ma our respects.”
The livid color in Leo’s cheeks only deepened. For one horrible moment, Ella imagined the worst. Fists, blood, chaos. Then Lieutenant Quinniock and a woman stepped in, and fear flickered briefly in Leo’s eyes.
“Stay away from me,” he told the young man. Matt, Ella realized. Matt Brayner.
“That’s your uncle,” Ella whispered. “That’s Uncle Matt. It’s okay now.”
Leo turned his back, moved as far away as the narrow confines of the room allowed, folded his arms over his chest.
Ella stepped to Matt. “Would you hold her? I’d like to take Irene out for a minute or two, get her some fresh air.”
“I’d be pleased.” Matt’s eyes watered up when the baby reached a chubby hand to his face.
“She favors Jim a little.” Lynn spoke quietly. “Don’t you think, Matt? She favors Jim?”
Matt’s throat worked as he nodded, as he bent his head to press his cheek to Shiloh’s.
“Come on with us, Irene.” With Marg’s help, Ella got Irene to her feet. “Come on with us for a bit.”
As they led the sobbing woman out, Ella heard Meece’s gentle voice coat over the ugly tension in the room.
Rowan licked her strawberry swirl, enjoying the buzz of pedestrian and street traffic as she strolled with Gull.
“That’s not really ice cream,” she told him.
“Maple walnut is not only really ice cream, it’s macho ice cream.”
“Maple’s for syrup. It’s like a condiment. It’s like mustard. Would you eat mustard ice cream?”
“I’m open to all flavors, even your girlie strawberry parfait.”
“This is refreshing.” As the drive had been, she thought. A long, aimless drive on winding roads, and now a slow, purposeless stroll along the green shade of boulevard trees toward one of the city’s parks.
With two of the four-hour breaks ahead of them, she could let go, relax. Unless the phones in their pockets signaled a call back to base.
For now she’d just appreciate the respite, the ice cream, the company and the blissful rarity of a free summer afternoon.
“I’ll ignore your syrup ice cream because you had a really good idea. Twenty-four hours ago, we’re in the belly of the beast, and here we are poking along like a couple of tourists.”
“One makes the other all the more worthwhile.”
“You know what, if we’re not catching fire, we should complete our tequila shot competition tonight. We can pick up a bottle of the good stuff before we head back.”
“You just want to get me drunk and take advantage of me.”
“I don’t have to get you drunk for that.”
“Suddenly I feel cheap and easy. I like it.”
“Maybe we can get Cards into it. He could use the distraction.”
She’d told Gull the situation on the drive in. “The letter’s a good idea. He should follow through.”
“Maybe you could help him.”
“Me?”
“You’ve got good words.”
“I don’t think Cards wants me playing Cyrano for his Roxanne.”
“See?” She drilled a finger into his arm, and put on a bumpkin accent. “You got all that there book-larning.”
“Rowan?”
She glanced over at the sound of her name. Feeling awkward, mildly annoyed and uncertain what came next, Rowan lowered her ice cream. “Ah, yeah. Hi.”
Ella stayed seated on the bench. “It’s nice to see you. I heard you got back this morning.” Ella mustered up a smile for Gull. “I’m Ella Frazier, a friend of Rowan’s father.”
“Gulliver Curry.” He stepped over, offered his free hand. “How’re you doing?”
“Honestly? Not very well. I’ve just come from Dolly’s funeral, which was as bad as you can imagine. I wanted to walk it off, then I thought I could sit it off. It’s so pretty here. But it’s not working.”
“Why were you... Mrs. Brakeman works at your school,” Rowan remembered.
“Yes. We’ve gotten to be friends the last year or so.”
“How is she... It’s stupid to ask how she’s doing, if she’s okay. She couldn’t be okay.”
“She’s not, and I think it may be worse yet. The police were there, too, and took Leo in for questioning after the service. Irene’s in the middle of a nightmare. It’s hard to watch a friend going through all this, knowing there’s little to nothing you can do to help. And I’m sorry.” She caught herself, shook her head. “Here you are on what I’m sure is very rare and precious free time, and I’m full of gloom.”