Hidden Hills (24 page)

Jake pulled into the parking lot of the Beauty Boutique just as Charlotte came out the door laughing. It was the welcome he'd needed to brighten his day.

“Thanks for giving me a ride.” Sliding into the seat beside him, she fastened her seatbelt and waved at the staring faces in the shop's window. “Bill ordered a fuel pump for my car, but it won't be here until tomorrow around noon.”

“No problem.” He inhaled the clean, sweet smell of honeysuckle. She always smelled fresh and clean, regardless of what she was doing.

“If it's not too much of a bother, can I get a ride to Milner's in the morning?”

“No problem,” he repeated, concentrating on pulling into traffic before glancing her way again.

Charlotte changed radio stations until the soothing sounds of violins filled the air. “You sure are agreeable today. What gives?”

“I'm always agreeable. You just haven't noticed.”

She rattled on non-stop about the problems with her car, not once realizing he'd been waiting for just such an opportunity. The traffic was light when they entered Broad Street, headed toward Birch. Up ahead, past the video store, the Silver Spur's parking lot began to fill with hungry patrons. This time Jake wasn't worried about standing in line. He'd called, right after Charlotte had asked for a ride home, and had booked a corner table.

“Why are we stopping here?”

“As of right now, you're kidnapped.”

“Like someone would pay a ransom for me?”

“I would.”

Charlotte laughed. “But you're my kidnapper.”

“I suppose I'll have to release you after dinner, won't I?” The truck barely squeezed into the parking spot. “Besides, the kids would miss you.”

“Works for me.” She flipped the visor down to inspect her makeup in the mirror. For a woman straight out of the beauty shop, she was wasting valuable time trying to improve perfection. “Speaking of kids, are they meeting us here?”

He killed the switch and relaxed his arm on the steering wheel. “I've taken care of our little problem.”

She replaced the lip gloss in her purse, and reached for the door. “I hope Kimmie remembers to wash their faces before bringing them.”

Jake rested his free hand on the back of her neck. “Charlotte, I didn't kidnap the whole bunch — just you.” He had to fight the urge to take her in his arms when a slow grin tilted the corners of her pink lips. Her eyes glowed.

“You mean, this is like a real date?”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “If doubling Kimmie's price and having six extra-large pizzas delivered, so I could be alone with you…“

“Six?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “They drove a hard bargain.”

She toyed with the door handle. A slight blush tinted her smooth skin. “You
must
want to be alone with me.”

Jake lifted her chin with a gentle touch, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You have no idea,” he said, before tasting the lips he'd been longing for. Her response was exactly what he'd hoped for, considering the truck was in the parking lot of the busiest restaurant in town.

A loud slap on the hood followed by “Atta-boy!” interrupted the kiss. Of all people, it was Ralph and Shelby who'd been witness to his lack of control. “Don't worry, we're meeting clients, so we can't intrude on your evening.”

He waved his eternal gratitude. It was his first chance to be alone with Charlotte, and he intended to make the most of it. The vibrating phone in his pocket proved to be another interruption, but glancing at the number, he knew it had to be answered.

“What's up, Kimmie? Out of pizzas already?”

“There's marshmallows, and fire, and the curtains. Andy's burned and — you gotta come home!”

Jake froze at the panic in her voice. She sounded like gibberish, talking a mile a minute. Fear gripped his heart when he heard smoke detectors in the background.

“Kimmie, slow down — I can't understand you.”

“Just. Come. Home!”

“Kimmie!”

The phone died.

“What's wrong?” Charlotte refastened her seatbelt when he put the truck in gear and spun out of the parking lot.

“I'm not sure, but I have a feeling it's not good.”

“Do I hear sirens?”

He lowered the windows, and realized the sound was up ahead. The truck shot forward, running stop signs as if they weren't there.

Charlotte's eyes widened in panic. “It's a fire truck. Oh, no! Kimmie's call?”

“Now don't panic.” The nerves in the back of his neck were ready to snap. “It may be nothing.”

“Nothing? You don't call the fire department for nothing!”

Kimmie's frantic cry of ”Andy's burned” had pierced his heart. Thinking of his baby in pain was too much to bear. The restaurant wasn't more than a mile from home, but it seemed to take forever to get there. He could hear Charlotte's prayers before they ever reached Robins Lane.

The fire engine parked in front of her house with the lights flashing confirmed his worst fears. Why had he thought they could have a night alone without a disaster happening?

He whipped into his drive and saw the firemen returning to their truck, rolling the hoses as they went. A strong stench of smoke hung in the air, but the only damage to her house appeared to be the kitchen window. The Borden sisters, from down the street, were standing on the curb watching the children, while a paramedic wrapped Andy's hand in white gauze. Relief soared in his heart when he did a quick head count and everyone was there.

“Oh, thank God!” Charlotte offered a prayer of praise and then was surrounded by kids the moment the passenger door opened, everyone telling a different version of what had happened as she lifted Andy from Jeremy's arms, wiping his tears away. ”You poor baby!”

“Is everybody okay?” Jake tried to hug everyone at the same time, including Kimmie. He shook like a leaf but couldn't stop.

“I'm so sorry, sir,” she said. “The paramedic said Andy's fingers aren't bad — but, it shouldn't have happened.”

With Andy in his arms, he checked the bandaged hand and glanced around for Jeremy and Bruce. He found them climbing like monkeys on top of the fire truck, as if nothing had happened. Their fears from the fire, replaced momentarily by the resiliency of youth, would probably return in the form of nightmares.

“Sitting with boys should be the same as watching girls,” Kimmie said, babbling from nervousness. “I had no idea they would do something like this.”

Jake froze. “What happened?”

“They caught the curtains on fire!”

What was he thinking, asking this skinny, little, sixteen-year-old girl to control his boys, when it was a constant battle for himself. This was by far the worst thing they'd ever done, and he'd had enough.

“Get over here — now!”

“Aw, Dad.” Bruce dropped to the ground. “The fireman said we could check out the fire engine. We even get to wear their hats.”

“You boys are in big trouble.”

Jeremy frowned. “But the chief said we could…”

“Forget about the truck! I want to know what happened here today.”

Kimmie stepped between the boys, her hands on their shoulders. “They didn't do it. It was my fault.”

Jake pinned her with his gaze. “You wouldn't lie for them, would you?”

“No, sir. But it wasn't them. We were watching a movie when Maggie and Andy left the room — I didn't even know they were gone.”

“The fire — Kimmie! Who started the fire?”

“Andy.”

Jake blinked. “Andy?”

“Yes, sir. He and Maggie.”

“Were they playing with matches?”

“No, sir. They were stuffing marshmallows in the toaster, and when the flames started, Maggie said she threw a towel over it. It must have started smoking again, because she threw it into the sink and missed.”

“Ms. McGregor?” The fire chief walked up behind them. “There's some smoke damage in the kitchen, but other than the curtains and the window, everything appears to be okay.”

Charlotte held onto her girls. “Thank you. Those lace curtains came from the thrift store, so it's no great loss.”

“Lace, huh?” The fireman walked away. “No wonder they burned so fast.”

“Maggie.” Jake lifted her with his free arm so he'd have the full attention of both kids involved. He hugged them close. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“No, sir.” Maggie shook her head, red curls flying. “Are you mad, Mr. Jake?”

He walked away from the others in hopes of getting the truth without an audience. “I'm not mad. Your mom and I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again. You could have been hurt bad. Do you understand?”

Andy held up his bandaged hand. “Hurts!”

“I know,” he agreed. “Marshmallows catch fire when they get too hot. Did you see the fire?”

“Uh-huh, marshmallows burn big!” Maggie's head bobbed. “There was fire, and I throwed the toaster in the sink, but it hit the window, and the window busted. And there was more fire, and Andy cried, but I didn't cry — ‘cause I'm big. Then the fire truck come and…”

“You were a brave girl, throwing the toaster in the sink,” he said. “Did you get burned?”

The little arms circled his neck again in a tight hug, her body trembling against his chest. “Not me, but Andy did ‘cause he's little.”

Jeremy asked to take Andy over to see the fire truck, but Jake held on to Maggie until her heart rate calmed. It wasn't the evening he'd planned, but at least they were together, and the kids were safe. Six pizzas should feed everyone. But first, they had to call Mrs. Wilson and see about getting rid of the smoke damage and replacing the window.

****

Less than a week later, the house was back to normal. Charlotte couldn't say the same for herself. The fire had been small, but she kept thinking it could have happened at the other house. The outcome would have been a lot worse.

Hidden Hills had beautifully decorated rooms throughout the old mansion when Grandpa had been alive — every piece of furniture gleamed from years of hand polishing. As much as she'd loved the antiques, she'd had to be logical. The day Mitch had passed away she'd had less than twenty dollars to her name, a funeral to pay for, and no source of income. She hadn't held a job since the girls had been born, and Mitch had borrowed against his life insurance policy. Selling the furniture from the second floor had seemed like her only option, never dreaming she would someday be able to buy any of it back — but today was the day.

Taking her time, she sat at the table and removed the lid from the oval hat box. It somehow seemed wrong to be probing into the Wills' family history without Grandpa's permission, but she knew in her heart he wouldn't mind. She began searching the pictures for any glimpse of the pricey antiques.

“Whatcha doing?”

Moving the photos aside, Maggie snuggled in her lap. “I'm looking at the furniture in these old pictures.”

“Don't you ‘spose to look at the people?”

“Most of the time, but I'm trying to find Grandpa's furniture in here.”

Maggie looked inside the hatbox. “Grandpa's stuff won't fit in there.”

Charlotte glanced up when Jake came in, carrying Andy in his arms. The baby's fingers were now wrapped in farm animal Band-Aids. “What's going on?”

“Mama thinks Grandpa's in here.” Maggie pointed to the box, then jumped down to catch Andy by his good hand. “Come on, let's draw pictures.”

“Becky left her coat at the house,” Jake said, tossing a pink jacket on the table. “I thought she might need it in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Charlotte replaced all but a handful of pictures she thought might be helpful when they began scrounging the antique shops.

“Have any luck?” He followed his nose to the pot of soup simmering on her stove and removed the lid. “Mmm, this smells good.”

“It's just vegetable.” Charlotte closed the hatbox before following him to the soup to give it a final stir. “Have you had supper?”

“No, but…”

Bumping him aside with her hip, she bent to open the oven door. He sighed after inhaling the smell of fresh-baked cornbread. She enjoyed having someone appreciate her cooking.

“Why don't you guys eat supper with us? I've got plenty.”

“Are you sure?”

Charlotte refused to take no for an answer. After all he'd done, it was time she did something in return.

“Would you mind getting the bowls and silverware? I'll get the glasses, and we'll be ready to eat.”

Charlotte watched the smiling faces as Jake ladled soup into the bowls and passed them around the table. The difference between now and the first time they'd shared a home-cooked meal seemed like a lifetime ago. She remembered thinking Jake would someday find a mother for his boys, but it wouldn't be her. Now she couldn't imagine anyone ever loving them more than she did. Their lives were intertwined like a real family, but she knew they weren't, and might never be. It didn't stop her from dreaming though. Annabelle had asked if she loved Jake, and at the time, she wasn't sure — now she was.

The closeness Jake shared with his boys warmed Charlotte's heart. She liked to think had Mitch lived, her girls would have found the same closeness in a relationship with him.