Firefly Mountain (32 page)

Walter’s face contorted as he tried to keep his emotions in check. His pale blue eyes grew glossy, and he opened his mouth to speak. Gini held up a hand to stop him.

“I didn’t set the fires in Burnam,” she said, “but I set five in Newport today.”

“Five!” Jonah and Liz said at the same time.

Walter pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat. He rubbed his temples and said, “Tell us what happened, Gini.”

They all sat, and Gini relayed the events of the day. Every last detail right down to Patrick’s scars.

“I’ve been such a jackass,” she said. “I was pushy and unsympathetic and—”

“But, honey,” Liz said, “you didn’t know.”

“So what did you say, you know, after you saw the scars?” Jonah had been strangely quiet throughout Gini’s retelling of the episode.

“Nothing,” Gini said. “I ran because I was angry and I’d set the gazebo on fire, the trees. I had to get out of there.”

Jonah nodded slowly. “Before Patrick rescued the kid, you guys were…getting along nicely?”

Gini’s cheeks got hot. “Yeah, we were having a wonderful time.” She paused. “Well, at least I was. I thought Patrick was too, but maybe he was trying to figure out how to keep me from…” She glanced up at her parents and dropped her head into her hands. “Keep me from trying to get him out of his clothes.”

“A man with bad scars on the surface probably has worse ones inside,” Walter said. “You don’t want to get involved in that, Gini. We have enough to deal with.”

“Walter,” Liz said. Her thin brows furrowed as she looked at her husband. “Gini might be the one to help Patrick with the inside scars.”

Gini raised her head and studied her mother’s face. “Me? No, I think Daddy’s right. I’d only bring Patrick more problems. I caused five fires today, Mama.
Five.
I’m a public menace.”

Walter shook his head. “Don’t say that, Gini. Your control has been so good for so long. I was wrong to insinuate you’d caused the fires here. In fact, while you and Patrick were in Rhode Island, there was a fire at Groveston’s Market. Mason found a candle and gasoline trail. Same deal.”

Gini was sorry to hear Groveston’s had been hit, but also a little relieved hard proof she hadn’t set the fires existed. As far as she knew, she had to be close by for her pyrokinesis to show off its glorious power.

Jonah slid his unbound hand across the table and took Gini’s. “I think Ma might be right.”

“About?” Gini asked.

“About you being the one to help Patrick heal inside. Obviously, he feels like he’s got to hide from the world. I thought he was just a private kind of guy, but clearly it’s more than that. You ran from the anger, not the scars, right?”

“Yes,” Gini said. “I was so mad at myself and maybe a little at Patrick because he wanted me to go while the EMT tended to him. The scars were pretty extensive, but…” Gini swallowed around a lump in her throat. “But I still wanted him.”

“He needs to know that, sweetie,” Liz said as she took Gini’s other hand. “You need to tell him.”

Gini pulled her hands from her mother’s and brother’s grips. “No. I need to leave Patrick alone. That’s what he’s wanted all along. I was too busy being Miss Persistent to realize he didn’t move to Vermont to be hassled. He wants his privacy. I’m going to give it to him.”

“That’s best,” Walter said. “Best for everyone.” He shot a warning glance to Jonah and Liz that Gini completely agreed with.

Haddy came in the front door toting two pizza boxes and a case of beer. “Hey, Gini,” she said as she dumped it all on the kitchen island. “Thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

“I was done tonight.” Gini glanced at the rest of her family, assured their discussion was over as well.

“Well, there’s enough pizza if you’re hungry.” Haddy pulled out plates and napkins.

“Doesn’t she look good in my kitchen?” Jonah asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think you mean your kitchen looks good because she’s in it,” Gini said. “This is officially the longest this place has been clean.”

“We should send her over to Mason’s,” Jonah said.

“If we want to kill her, sure,” Walter said.

Haddy laughed. “I saw Mason while I was out this afternoon. He hired a maid to clean his home.”

“He what?” Gini asked. Somehow this day-to-day, normal conversation was doing wonders for the splitting headache she’d developed over the last hour of her drive from Rhode Island. She had a plan now. She’d stay away from Patrick. Give him his space, and she’d allow her family to keep a closer watch on her.

Haddy brought the pizza to the table, serving Jonah first with a huge smile to go along with his slice. “Patrick told Mason that Raina was like him.”

For a moment, the Claremonts tensed simultaneously.
Was Raina scarred too?
Gini thought. Raina didn’t seem as secretive as Patrick.

“She likes a tidy house, so Mason hired a maid to clean his man-cave before he invited Raina over.” Haddy pulled out a chair and sat next to Jonah. She bit into a slice of pizza then asked, “Are Patrick and Raina back too, Gini?”

“I don’t know.” Gini opened her beer and busied herself with a long swig of it.

“Mason’s going bananas waiting for Raina. The guy has got it bad.” Haddy chuckled.

“He’s not the only one.” Jonah slapped a kiss on Haddy’s cheek as she sat back beside him. He raised his eyes slowly so he met Gini’s across the table.

Gini shook her head. She didn’t have it bad like Jonah and Haddy or Mason and Raina.

She didn’t have anything.

****

Patrick stretched out in his bed, stopping when the slice in his side stung, and rested his palms on his chest. He’d worn a T-shirt to bed last night, not able to bear brushing up against the scars by accident while he slept.

Sleep. As if he’d had any last night. The old nightmare of the house fire had replayed itself all night long. Over and over he’d heard his sisters’ screams, the thunderous roar of the flames. Every now and then, Gini’s voice had screamed along with his sisters for some reason.

Patrick’s head ached.

Visiting Julianne before they’d left Rhode Island hadn’t helped any. He hadn’t been in the mood. He’d wanted to get home, but he’d said he would go see her and if nothing else, he was man of his word.

The visit had been rigid, full of carefully worded conversation and apologetic tones. He was sorry he’d left in a huff to move to Vermont. Julianne was sorry she’d given him a hard time. And then there had been the last thing Julianne had said to him. The thing that had also plagued him while he tried to sleep last night.

“There’s something different about you.” Julianne sat forward in her wheelchair, her scarred arms resting on her knees.

Patrick shook his head. “No, there isn’t. I’m absolutely the same as I’ve been for the past million years.” Some days it felt as if he’d truly been alive for that long. Today had turned into one of those days. It hadn’t started out that way. Bright sunshine. Fantastic bike ride along the coast with an amazing woman. A kiss on the beach with an amazing woman. A successful rescue. And then it all went to Hell.

“I see hope in your eyes, Patrick.” Julianne’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Something’s changed.”

He looked at Julianne then. Really looked at her. She was paralyzed and stuck in that wheelchair. Her arms, neck, and half of her face were in worse shape than his chest and thigh, and yet she was…content. She had friends. She had her book-editing work that she did from home. She had a freaking life, which was more than Patrick could say about himself at the moment.

Hope. Julianne had seen hope. Hope for what? Hope that Gini’s mind would be mysteriously erased, and the memory of what she’d seen of him wiped out. Hope that he’d wake up one morning and be whole again. Hope that he wouldn’t have to live out his days alone.

So alone.

Patrick shifted in bed, some of his muscles aching from the work he’d done after Raina had dropped him off yesterday. Work he’d done to stop his mind from brooding and exhaust his body. Work that had achieved neither of those things, but at least he had a partially completed ceiling in the master bedroom to show for it.

He slid his legs out of bed and sat for a moment. The house was ultra-quiet without Midas nosing around somewhere and Whisper, though she didn’t meow, had added some noise with her exploring of the house. Patrick decided it was time to get his furry companions back from Jonah’s then spend the day finishing that ceiling and whatever other work he could bury himself in.

After a quick breakfast—why did he have an overwhelming desire for blueberry muffins this morning?—Patrick dressed and headed to Jonah’s. Haddy’s car wasn’t next to the Mustang when he pulled into the driveway, and he figured she was probably working over at Gini’s. Good. The less people he ran into today, the better. He’d collect his pets and be on his way.

Jonah answered the door in a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the knee and a Burnam Fire Department T-shirt. His arm was still wrapped to his chest and evidence of a beard framed his mouth and jaw.

“Haddy doesn’t groom you as well?” Patrick teased. Something about seeing Jonah made him want to attempt to be social.

“I ain’t letting any chick, no matter how gorgeous she is, near my face with a sharp object.” Jonah stepped aside to let Patrick in. “Besides, I think Haddy likes the scruff.”

Midas galloped over and as soon as Patrick patted his own chest, the dog rose to his hind legs. Man and dog hugged their hellos while Whisper climbed Patrick’s pant leg.

“What a reunion,” Jonah said. “You’d think I treated them horribly while you were gone.”

“I know you didn’t, but Midas likes his routine, and Whisper here,” Patrick plucked the kitten from his jeans, “she’s just getting used to people.” If she was anything like Patrick, Whisper would never get used to people.

“Well, they weren’t any trouble at all, and I’d be happy to sit for them anytime.” Jonah scratched behind Midas’s ear as the dog sat between him and Patrick.

“Thanks. Appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ll be heading out anywhere for a while.” Patrick was aiming to sequester himself in the woods, only coming out for work and necessities.

“Not a good time in Rhode Island?” Jonah sat in a kitchen chair, and Patrick saw how tired he looked.

“You sleeping at all?” Patrick asked as he sat in the chair Jonah had pushed out with his foot.

“On and off. Can’t get comfortable, but we weren’t talking about me,” Jonah said. “We were talking about you.”

Patrick shrugged. He so didn’t want to have this conversation with Jonah of all folks. “The wedding was fine. My cousin, Andrew, looked truly happy with his new wife, Willow.”

“I met Willow a few times.” Jonah winced as he repositioned in his seat. “Nice chick. She and Gini got along well in school.”

The mention of Gini’s name had something aching inside Patrick.

“Look,” Jonah started, “I’m going to poke my nose where it may not belong, but that’s never stopped me before.” He offered Patrick a grin and rested his good arm on the table. “Gini told me about yesterday’s events.”

Patrick winced. He’d been hoping Gini hadn’t mentioned anything to her family. Hoping that she’d be the only one that knew his secret.

“Can I see?” Jonah’s voice was soft, compassionate, as if he wanted to understand and wasn’t merely interested in seeing the freak show.

Before Patrick could over-analyze and change his mind, he untucked his T-shirt and slowly pulled it up until two-thirds of his chest was exposed. The bandage over yesterday’s gash covered some of the scars, but most of them were out there for Jonah to see.

Jonah’s expression didn’t change. The compassion that had been in his voice was still written over his features. He didn’t rear back in disgust, or dart from the room. Of course, his mobility was limited, but Patrick had a sense that wasn’t why Jonah hadn’t reacted as he’d expected him to. As Gini had.

“When I was in college,” Jonah began, “I volunteered at the hospital’s burn unit to remind myself every fire I didn’t fight my hardest at was a chance for someone ending up in that unit. I didn’t—I don’t—want anyone to wind up there.” He gestured to Patrick’s chest where the T-shirt had fallen back into place. “What happened?”

Patrick told Jonah the entire tale, from start to finish, and when he was done, he felt as if he could tell Jonah absolutely anything. Jonah had listened, not judged, not tried to make him feel better, not said anything meant to be comforting but sounding trite and useless. Patrick had never told anyone the complete version of what had happened all those years ago. He’d never imagined it could feel so…good to tell someone.

“Shit end of the stick, brother,” Jonah said, “but it’s not who you are. It doesn’t define you or what you can and can’t have. You can’t allow those scars to keep you from being with my sister.”

“She takes pictures of beautiful things everyday for a living, Jonah. How could she stand to look at this? At me?”

“There are different kinds of beauty, and you shouldn’t decide for Gini.”

“She’s already decided. She ran once she saw what I’d been hiding.”

“You sure you know what she was running from?” Jonah’s blue eyes—eyes so much like Gini’s—held Patrick’s gaze.

“Of course. What else would she be running from?”

“Talk to Gini, man,” Jonah said. “Please. Just talk to her.”

“We’ve got the wedding pictures you took this weekend,” Haddy said, “and the calendar. That’s it.”

That was enough as far as Gini was concerned. She didn’t want to look at either of them. Both were reminders of what an incredibly insensitive person she was, but Willow and Andrew deserved pictures to remember their beautiful wedding, and she’d promised the animal shelter the calendar fundraiser would be an enormous success. She’d fulfill her commitments even if it made her feel wretched to do so.

What she wanted to do was head over to the animal shelter and spend some time with her animal confidantes. They’d listen and calm her as she tended to their needs. They’d make her feel as if she weren’t the most annoying person alive.