Reaper's Fire
Page 102

Gage’s eyes widened.
“Damn, that’d be amazing.”
“I know. I’m also too scared to hope, but it makes so much sense. According to Mary, he didn’t start to fall apart until after Mom died, and that’s when he started taking it. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”
Gage laughed. “He’s a tough old bastard, no question. If anyone could pull it off, it’d be Tom.”
I turned to hug him, feeling happier than I had in a long time. I still didn’t know if I had a home waiting for me in Hallies Falls, but in that moment it didn’t matter. I had people who cared about me. Real people. And maybe I wasn’t going to lose my dad after all. It felt too good to be true, but it really did explain so much.
“I’ve got an idea,” Gage said as I relaxed in his arms, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted.
“What’s that?”
“Let’s celebrate.”
I raised a brow. “And how do you want to celebrate?”
“Like this,” he said, pulling me over him on the lounger, resting my knees on either side of his hips. I wiggled, enjoying the feel of him between my legs, then leaned down to give him a long, slow kiss.
“I like celebrations,” I whispered. “I like them a lot.”
• • •
We left Dad and Mary in Coeur d’Alene early the next morning, taking Gage’s pickup truck and pulling a trailer behind us. If there’d been a miracle and the house was still standing, maybe we’d be able to salvage something.
We were ten miles outside of Hallies Falls when I got a text message from Darren, showing a picture of their home. Nothing left but the garage.
“Fuck,” I said, holding it out for Gage to see. His mouth tightened. “I wanted to ask him to go look at my place, but I’m scared.”
“We’ll be there soon enough,” Gage said. “Let him focus on his family.”
I nodded, looking out the window at the landscape. Poor Carrie—she’d be devastated. They all got out alive, I reminded myself. That’s what really matters. The road to Hallies Falls was like something out of a war movie—scorched and barren, although some of the biggest trees still stood. We’d passed three burned-out farms, and at one point I saw a clump of cows staring at us blankly. Then we crested the hill leading down to town, and my mouth dropped.
You could see a line where the planes had dropped the red fire retardant. That must’ve been where the firefighters took their stand, I realized. They’d saved what they could and left the rest to burn. Half the town was blackened, buildings no more than skeletons, while the other half looked almost untouched. Well, untouched except for ash and the red stuff. My place should be right on the line between them. Straining, I tried to catch a glimpse of it, but couldn’t.
“Damn,” Gage said. “Looks rough down there.”
I didn’t answer, clenching my fists while we cruised down the hill, slowing as we reached the outskirts. On this side there was hardly any damage at all, aside from the filth and ash covering everything. People I’d known my entire life stood outside their homes, some dazed or crying while others worked with grim purpose. We passed the high school—still intact—and then cruised past where the post office used to stand. Now the building that’d stood tall for nearly a hundred years was a blackened shell.
“Rebuilding will be hard,” Gage said. I stared ahead, torn between desperation to see my home and absolute terror that I’d find another blackened ruin. As Gage turned down the street I’d grown up on, we passed a burned-out house and then another. After that, though, the houses were still standing, and then I saw it.
My home.
The building was a mess.
Most of it was coated in the reddish-orange fire retardant, and the rest was covered in ash. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
“They saved it,” I breathed, choking up. Gage reached over to squeeze my hand.
“Looks like it.”
“Oh shit,” I said, laughing nervously. “Look at your bike . . .”
We both stared at the once-proud Harley, now completely caked in reddish gook and filth.
“It’s red,” he said with a startled laugh. “Huh. I wasn’t sure to what to expect, but I’d pictured it either burned up or like normal. Wonder if that shit comes off.”
“It was insured, right?”
“Yup,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Your car’s in rough shape, too.”
I looked past the bike to see my Mustang. Sure enough, it was coated in the same stuff.
“We’re lucky,” I said, thinking of Darren and Carrie’s place. Gage pulled to a stop, and I hopped out, walking slowly across the crusted lawn. The front door was open, which seemed strange. I’d been almost certain I locked it when we left. Then I walked into the living room, looking around.
“Doesn’t seem like anything’s been damaged.”
“Check that out,” Gage said. I followed his gaze to see boot prints trailing through the dining room to the kitchen. Following them, I found six empty boxes of caramels on the counter, along with a note written on a paper towel.
The kitchen door was open, and we needed a place to rest for a while. We also ate your caramels and slept in your beds. We’ve been fighting the fire for nearly twenty-four hours, including four hours soaking the back of your building and the others in the neighborhood to save them. Hope you don’t mind.
It was signed Frank and Steve Browning.
“Wow,” I said, handing it over to Gage, who raised his brows.
“You know who they are?”
“No clue,” I said. “Although I’ll try to find out. I think I owe them more than caramels.”
Gage laughed.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
I sighed. “We got really lucky here.”
He looked at me, nodding. “We did.”
“Gonna be a lot of work cleaning all this up,” I continued.
“You still on the fence about staying in Hallies Falls?” he asked, his voice serious. I shook my head.
“No, I want to be here,” I said, and it was the truth. “I didn’t realize how much I loved it until I almost lost it. I know it’s a small, weird town where everyone gossips . . . but it’s also the kind of place where two men will fight night and day to save a stranger’s home.”