Firefly Mountain (25 page)

Patrick wondered if he was capable of the same thing. Could he reorganize the way he lived for someone else? Could he let some of himself go to let someone else in? A piece of him wanted to say yes. Wanted to try. But what price would he have to pay to try?

“The Lagsten christening and the Taylor wedding albums are finished,” Haddy announced at about one o’clock.

“Great,” Gini said. “I’ve got two more pages on the Matthews wedding album and that’ll be done too.”

“So calendar work for the afternoon then?” Haddy clasped her hands together as if she were pleading.

“Yes, that shall be our reward for such an industrious morning.”

“Fantastic.” Haddy slid the two albums she’d finished into their boxes and labeled them. “Can I run by Jonah’s to check on him quick before we launch into our droolfest?”

“Actually,” Gini said, “can I go with you? I could use a break and owe Jonah a thank you.”

“Sure.” Haddy paused, an odd expression on her face.

“What?” Gini asked.

“Your parents came over late last night. I’d gone to bed, but Jonah told me they had stopped by when he came to bed.” Haddy paused again as if she were trying to find the right words. “He was upset, Gini. He didn’t want to talk about it, but whatever they’d said to him rattled his cage.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Gini said. And that was all she was saying. Haddy had been her assistant for six years and her best friend for almost double that, but she didn’t know every detail about the Claremonts. Gini had come close to telling Haddy several times over the years, but always decided against it in the end. She couldn’t bear it if Haddy didn’t take the news well. Was there any other way to take such news? That your best friend was a pyrokinetic.

It only took fifteen minutes to get to Jonah’s and Gini had turned on Haddy’s car stereo in an attempt to keep the chatting to a minimum. If they weren’t working then the conversation would turn personal, and Gini wasn’t in the mood for such talk. Not today. Of course, every song the deejays played had a depressing, sour note to them, and Gini flipped the stereo off as soon as they pulled into Jonah’s driveway.

Inside, Jonah was on the couch watching The Lord of the Rings trilogy. He was on The Two Towers, and Gini paused to admire Aragorn for a moment. The dark beard framing Viggo Mortensen’s mouth got her every time. Looking at the character now, however, made her think of Patrick’s beard and how it had felt when she’d kissed him. Would she be forever haunted by those kisses?

“A hobbit-a-thon.” Gini sat on the couch next to Jonah, and he gave her one of his lazy smiles.

“Figured I’ve got nine continuous hours to kill, why not?” Jonah shifted to face Gini and winced as he did so.

“How much pain are you in exactly?” Gini asked.

“Probably not as much as you.” Jonah slid his free hand across the couch cushion between them, and Gini met him halfway. He squeezed her hand then held it as Frodo and company continued their quest to Mount Doom.

“Thanks for your note, Jonah.” Gini scooched closer to her brother and rested her head on his good shoulder. “I needed it this morning.”

“I’m still fuming about the whole thing.” Jonah shook his head as he released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t—” He stopped abruptly when Haddy walked in carrying a tray of food for him. He cleared his throat and said, “I don’t know what I’d do without such beautiful women to take care of me.”

Haddy’s cheeks pinked as she set the tray down on the coffee table. The color on her face made her look so alive, so in love. As if she were getting everything she’d ever wanted out of life. Gini wondered if she’d ever be in that happy place.

“Pause the movie for me, Haddy, please. I want to give that lunch my full attention,” Jonah said.

Gini straightened up on the couch as Haddy reached for the television remote on the arm of the couch. When Haddy came in range, Jonah motioned her closer with a tilt of his head. She paused the movie—on a frame of Aragorn—and leaned down to Jonah. He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she giggled.

“Couldn’t you listen to that sound for a lifetime?” Jonah asked.

“A lifetime?” Haddy and Gini said together.

“Yeah, a lifetime.” Jonah nodded, his blue eyes closing in pain for a moment.

“Those are some excellent drugs they’ve got him on, huh, Haddy?” Gini asked.

“Excellent, yeah.” Haddy’s eyes were wide and totally focused on Jonah.

“No, it’s not the drugs,” Jonah said. “It’s you, Haddy. You’re like a fever consuming me only I don’t want the fever to break.”

“Maybe he’s got an actual fever?” Haddy asked, the expression on her face changing from shocked to concerned. She reached out a hand and held it to Jonah’s forehead.

Jonah closed his eyes and pulled her hand down to his mouth. A kiss to her palm then a few over her wrist up to her elbow. Gini wondered if she should leave, but Haddy had driven over there. She settled for going to Jonah’s kitchen for a drink of water. She stalled for a few moments, gazing out the windows over the sink at two butterflies flitting to blossoms on a butterfly bush. Her fingers itched for her camera, but her purse was in the living room. Gini settled for a mental picture and filed the image away for a time when she’d need a calm vision to settle her.

Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket where she’d stuffed it. She didn’t recognize the number, but figured she’d answer it. She’d had her business calls forwarded to the cell phone while the studio was closed. No sense in missing opportunities to make money. Her home office and darkroom were adequate workspaces in the interim. She could handle new jobs.

“Hello?”

“Gini, it’s Willow.”

“Willow! How are you?”

“Super, actually. I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations! That’s fantastic.” Gini listened to her college roommate, Willow Greene, babble on about her fiancé, the spur of the moment proposal, the high-speed wedding plans, the honeymoon.

When she’d first walked into her dorm room at RISD, Gini had only known the name of her would-be roommate. What if Gini and Willow Greene were total opposites? What if Willow Greene made Gini angry? She’d expected a crunchy, tie-dyed wearing, granola-eating, save the world one rainforest at a time type with a name like Willow. Someone who probably had strong feelings about world issues and philosophical notions. Strong feelings and Gini just didn’t mix.

Fortunately, Willow Greene had turned out to be the easiest person to get along with. Laid back and go with the flow, Willow had made dorm life at RISD a breeze. A really fun break from the small town Vermont way of life breeze.

“So you’ll come and be a bridesmaid, right?,” Willow said. “The wedding is this weekend.”

“This weekend?”

“I know it’s short notice. I haven’t even sent out paper invitations. I’ve just been calling people. It’s crazy, but Andrew and I didn’t want a long engagement. We decided on a beach ceremony. His parents have a beach house. Well, beach house isn’t really the right word. It’s more of a…mansion.”

“Mansion?” Gini felt like an idiot. Words were coming at her and it was as if they were in another language.

“Yeah, in Newport,” Willow said. “Remember that night at Easton’s Beach?”

Gini laughed now. “How could I forget? I haven’t skinny-dipped since.”

“Something about running, dripping wet, with your clothes balled up in your arms, isn’t there?”

“We don’t even know if those guys were cops or not?” Gini could barely get the words out she was laughing so hard. Willow joined in and the hundreds of miles between them faded away.

“Say you’ll come, Gini,” Willow managed around a couple snickers.

Gini turned the notion over in her mind. A weekend getaway to Rhode Island to witness the wedding of a friend sounded like just the thing she needed right now. A chance to put some distance between herself, the fires, her daddy, the temptation known as Patrick Barre.

“I’d love to come to the wedding, Willow, but how about if I do the photos instead of being a bridesmaid? You know I’m always more comfortable behind the camera, and we could consider the photos your wedding gift,” Gini said.

“What a wonderful idea! Thank you, Gini. I can’t wait to see you again. We have a ton of catching up to do. It’s been too long.” Willow gave Gini the details of the when and where of the wedding, insisted on Gini staying with her while she was in Rhode Island, and made plans for dinner when Gini arrived on Thursday night.

Gini hung up the phone feeling supercharged. She bounced into the living room where Haddy teased Jonah with grapes. The two of them stared at Gini, identical looks of confusion on their faces.

“I’m going to Rhode Island this weekend,” Gini announced. “Jonah, you remember Willow Greene, don’t you?”

“Sure.” He snatched a grape from Haddy with his good hand and smiled at Haddy’s defeated expression.

“She just called. She’s getting married this weekend. Wants me to go down for the ceremony and I’ll do photos for her. I’ll leave on Thursday. Be back by Sunday night.”

“Perfect,” Jonah said. “At least one of us will have some fun this weekend.”

“Hey.” Haddy held the grapes out of reach. “And who said you wouldn’t be having fun this weekend?”

There was a vixen-like arch to her eyebrows Gini had never seen before on Haddy’s otherwise angelic face.

A slow smile leaked across Jonah’s lips. “I sit corrected.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Haddy finished the grapes herself and narrowed her eyes at Jonah.

“I meant in my current condition,” he looked to his arm still bound against his chest, “my fun is limited.”

“We can work around your limitations.” Haddy picked up the tray and carried it into the kitchen.

“No wonder you’ve kept her on as your assistant all these years,” Jonah said. “She’s…”

“Resourceful?” Gini suggested.

“Yes, resourceful. That’s it.” Jonah had that devilish twinkle in his eyes, and Gini suddenly knew, beyond a doubt, that he was going to be fine this weekend.

“Have fun in Rhode Island, Gini,” he whispered. “It’s the perfect time for a trip. I’ll let Ma and Pop know you’ve gone. Things will cool down here and everything will work out.”

Gini hoped her brother was right. Cooling down was always a good idea, and things had definitely been heating up in Vermont instead. Time to blow some steam—she hated that expression—and when she came home, she could get back to the quiet little life she had been leading. The life she could handle.

****

“You have experience with animals, Barre, right?” Chief Warner asked when Patrick returned from his meeting with Mason.

“Yes, sir.” Patrick angled his head down to Midas, who had trotted over as soon as Patrick had entered the station. Usually Midas went nearly everywhere Patrick did, but another fighter had offered to give the dog a bath while Patrick was at his meeting. That was an offer a man couldn’t say no to. Bathing a German Shepherd was messy business even when it was a well-behaved trained German Shepherd. Now Midas’s black fur was all fluffed, and Patrick hadn’t gotten soaked trying to get it that way.

“Go with Fissle and Olson on this call then.” The chief ushered Patrick and Midas toward two fighters suiting up. Neither fighter was moving in emergency mode, but Patrick didn’t waste any time getting his own gear on and hopping onto the truck. As soon as the other fighters took their places, the truck left the vehicle bay without sirens.

“What’s the call?” Patrick asked Chuck Fissle, the driver.

“It’s a meow round-up,” Chuck said.

“A what?” Patrick had never heard the term.

“A kitty catch,” the other fighter, Willy Olson, said. “The police or animal shelter gets a call that cats have been heard or seen in some abandoned barn or cabin, one that might have structural damage. We go in and collect them. The shelter takes them in, gives them vet care if necessary, then finds them homes if they can.”

“I see,” Patrick said. “Does this happen often here?”

“At least once a week there’s some kind of animal trouble in Burnam.” Chuck eased the truck around a sharp corner and onto a dirt road. “Last week, Willy and I had to detangle a moose from maple sugar taps. Week before, old Mr. Monahan trapped a bear in his shed. We had to help…relocate the critter.”

“When you live in the woods,” Willy said, “you get up close and personal with nature.”

“Yeah,” Chuck said, “and sometimes nature ain’t happy about it.”

Willy pulled off his left glove and held his hand up so Patrick could see it. A half-moon of teeth impressions lined the skin between Willy’s forefinger and thumb. Some of the marks had broken the skin. Others had left purpling bruises.

“Was trying to get a collie free from a wire fence she was caught on. She perceived my attempt at help to be an attack and bit me.” Willy shook his head and slipped his hand back into his glove.

“Why didn’t you keep your gloves on?” Patrick asked. The gloves were fire-resistant and leather lined. Strong enough to keep a burn away. Strong enough to keep teeth away.

“He had them on to start,” Chuck said. “But the dog freaked whenever the gloves came close to her. The more she struggled, the more the fence cut her up. Willy had to take the gloves off.”

Patrick nodded. In Providence, he’d gone on animal calls—none referred to as a “meow round-up”—but they’d been mostly abandoned tenements with dozens of cats living in their own piss and vomit. The cats were usually passive, dehydrated, and starving. They never fought back. Some of them died in transport.

What Willy and Chuck were describing, however, sounded a bit more active. Patrick made a decision right then to leave his gloves on at all costs, freaked animal or not. He didn’t need more scars.

The truck came to a stop at a dilapidated log cabin. The front door hung askew by a single hinge, creating a small V-shaped opening at the bottom. Big enough for creatures to get in and out. One of the windows was smashed, and the chinking between the logs looked like vanilla frosting someone had tasted with a finger in too many spots.

“Caller said cats have been meowing in here since Saturday night,” Chuck said as he jumped out of the truck.