The Second Chance Café (Hope Springs, #1) (34 page)

Just as she started to go to him, a loud crash from the house had her whipping her head around. Sparks shot from the roof like fireflies to disappear into the dark. Flames licked toward the branches of the nearest trees.
Dear Lord, please not her trees!
She hugged Ten tighter and watched the spray of water soak the leaves, turning the ground below into muck. Her azaleas would be ruined!

And then she started crying again. How many things had she lost? She was safe. Magoo was safe. She had her laptop with ten years of her life’s records. But she didn’t have May’s wingback chair, or the bed where she’d made love with Ten. It was a sentimental loss; her memories were safe, her heart full of them, but losing her bed so soon after giving herself to him seemed so huge in the moment, she almost couldn’t breathe.

When she looked back for Mitch, he was gone, and she shook off the strange need that had her wanting to follow. How had he known about the fire? Where had he been that he’d arrived so quickly after she’d called 9-1-1? Did he hate her for the way she’d reacted to hearing the truth about him? Did he know she didn’t mean it when she’d told him she didn’t want him around?

She stood for what seemed like hours wrapped in Ten’s arms, then watched the fire truck pull away. Ten took care of talking to the fire captain and the officers on scene, leaving her side only long enough to do that. Once finished, he led her to his truck, lifting her into the front seat when her feet didn’t want to move. “C’mon. You’ll stay with me tonight.”

“My things—”

“I’ll get what’s in your Jeep. You stay here,” he said, and shut the door.

She watched him walk to where she’d parked, watched him reach into the back for her laptop and knife and wallet. He pulled her keys from the ignition and motioned Magoo out. The dog followed, and when he opened the passenger-side door, Magoo jumped in beside her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and mouthed
thank you
to Ten as he slid her laptop beneath the seat. He nodded, shut the door, then came back to climb behind the wheel. As they drove away, Kaylie closed her eyes, not wanting to see her house, dark and all alone in the middle of the night.

Two Owls’ Brownie Bouquet

april showers bring flowers for may

1¼ cups flour

1 teaspoon salt

8 ounces unsalted butter

2 ounces bittersweet chocolate

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 cups sugar

4 large eggs

Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease or spray with cooking oil and flour (or line with aluminum foil) an 8 x 8–inch baking pan.

Sift the flour with the salt into a bowl and set aside. Melt the butter and the chocolate in a double boiler (or in a microwave), stirring often so as not to burn the chocolate. Mix in the vanilla and 1 cup of the sugar and stir until smooth. In another bowl, stir the eggs into the remaining cup of sugar. Mix half of the sugar-egg mixture into the chocolate batter. Use an electric mixer to whip the remaining sugar-egg mixture, 2–3 minutes, until thick and pale. Slowly fold the whipped mixture into the chocolate batter. Add the flour mixture and stir gently until blended.

Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan. Bake 30–35 minutes, or until an inserted tester comes out mostly clean. Cool completely before cutting.

C
reeping out of Ten’s bed before dawn, Kaylie told Magoo to stay put and set off on her own for the house. She’d seen it in the dark of the wee hours, lit by flames and spinning red-and-blue beacons, smoky and wet and sad, but she needed to see it at first light.

To watch the sun rise behind it, the yellow-white beams winnowing through the trees to touch what remained of the new shutters. To dry up the ashy water puddled black in the yard. To show her the extent of the physical damage, not just what she’d imagined last night. She needed to be alone and measure that loss against the one charred and dark, deep in her chest.

She drove past her Jeep where it sat on Chances, parking at the very end of the driveway, and climbed onto the hood of Ten’s work truck she’d borrowed, absorbing, grieving, trying to find solid ground. Trying to find acceptance. Less than three months ago she’d stood in this yard and held the keys in her hand for the very first time. Her keys. Her house. Her ten-year dream of returning fulfilled.

This house had been her whole life. The richest love she’d ever known, and absolute joy, and keening, wretched
sorrow. She owed her very being to Winton and May Wise. Their nurturing had come without effort, as sure and true as summer sun, brown leaves of autumn, bare blue winter, and new spring.

She wondered if she’d lost the pictures of the seasons she’d decided on as dining room accents. She’d moved them to the parlor for the trial run, having no time to hang them before inviting her friends to eat. She wondered about her furniture stored on the second floor, if the wingback chair was gone, or the afghan. All of the café’s linens would be ruined by the smoke, if not the flames. And the windows’ lace panels, too. But maybe the front door’s stained glass had survived. She’d have to get closer—

At the sound of an approaching truck, she turned, smiling to herself at the sight of Ten. She hadn’t left him a note—he would know where to find her—having planned to be back before he got out of bed. She’d wanted to shed this sorrow with her clothes when she climbed in beside him. She’d wanted him to make her, if only for those moments beneath his body, forget.

He walked toward her, holding up her phone. “You forgot this.”

“No, I didn’t,” she told him, taking it from his hand when he drew close. “I needed to be alone. I needed peace and quiet.”

“Don’t do that again. Leave it in your pocket if you don’t want to talk, or turn it off, or whatever, but take it with you. You could have a flat, or an accident, or get—”

She cupped her palm over his mouth. “Did you tell Magoo you’d be back?”

He nodded and kissed her palm. “He’s settled in with fresh water and the mess he made clawing around in the blankets I laid out for him.”

“He has to have his bed just right.”

“Reminds me of someone else who likes more than her share of the covers.”

“I do not,” she said, leaning into him when he sat beside her, hooking her arm through his. She loved that he’d taken her home.

Later, after the sun hit the ugly spoils of the third floor where it was wet like an oozing gash, he asked, “Do you think you’ll rebuild?”

She hated that her house would have a scar. “I hope I don’t have to start from the ground up, but it looks pretty bad. I’ll have to see what the insurance people say. Then get a contractor inside to determine the extent of the damage.”

“I happen to know one.”

“I thought you might.”

They were silent for a long time after that. Until Kaylie couldn’t be silent anymore. “I should never have rushed into this. I should’ve taken more time. Hired an inspector who would find the termite damage. And the water damage. And the electrical—”

“This isn’t your fault, Kaylie,” he said, pressing her hand between his. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”

“It is not! I told you that last night.”

He ignored her and went on. “I hadn’t had time to go through the attic. I should have. I know Will was up there a lot, but if I’d looked specifically—”

“Listen to me.” As much as she loved him, it wasn’t hard to guess where this guilt trip was coming from. “You think
you failed me. You didn’t. You think you would’ve seen whatever this was. Maybe you would have. But maybe not.” She took a deep breath and hoped she was right. “Just like you think if Robby Hunt hadn’t stayed with you that night, he wouldn’t have assaulted Indiana, and Dakota would never have served time.”

“That’s hardly—”

“I’m not done. Robby could’ve assaulted Indiana when you weren’t there to stop him. And she might never have told you, to protect you, to protect Dakota. Whenever, wherever, the fault would’ve been Robby’s. Not yours. Never yours. I know your sister would agree with me. And I have a feeling your brother would, too.”

He stared down at their joined hands, brooding, sober. “My head wants to believe you. But my heart…”

“I know,” she said, and didn’t say anything more.

“How did you get to be so smart?”

She wanted to be flip, to tease him, but her path to this place had not come easily. “If I was smart, I would’ve told you sooner that I love you. Because I meant what I said on the phone last night. I love you, Tennessee Keller. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you, baby. I had wanted to tell you long before that, but I could never find the right time.”

“It was the perfect time. It was when I most needed to hear it. And when I most needed to say it. Because it was when I most needed you.”

Ten wrapped his arm around her and drew her close, resting his chin on her head, holding her hands in his lap. Kaylie thought she’d be perfectly happy if she never moved again, and they were still sitting there, still happy, several
minutes later when Luna’s car pulled to a stop behind Ten’s truck.

Ten glanced over his shoulder, then down at her, nudging her off the hood. “Go on. Talk to Luna. I’ll be here.”

She kissed him before she hopped down, opening her arms for her friend as they reached the end of the driveway together. Luna rushed forward and held her and rocked her and cried. “This is all my fault,” she said, while still in Kaylie’s embrace, pulling back to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

Kaylie understood Luna’s guilt, but not over the fire. “Of course it’s not your fault. The fire department is pretty sure it was a wire and a very sorry squirrel.”

Luna gave a sniveling laugh. “Not the fire. My ruining things between us.”

“You didn’t ruin things between us,” Kaylie said, realizing how profoundly she meant every word. “You were honoring your friendship with Mitch.”

“But not my friendship with you,” Luna said, and squeezed Kaylie’s hand.

Kaylie squeezed back, forgiving. “You would have. I know that. You would’ve told me when you could.”

“I wanted to tell you. I knew I needed to. But I had to tell Mitch first. I’ve known him my whole life. He was so devastated to lose you.”

“Luna, it’s okay. I understand totally why you had to tell Mitch. I would’ve done the same thing,” Kaylie said, giving voice to a truth she’d come to accept while processing the secret the three people closest to her had kept. “And I think I needed to hear it from him. Not you. Not even Ten. Hearing it from Mitch…it was the best way.”

“Ten did that, you know. Had Mitch drive you to Austin.”

She nodded. It was who Ten was. He would have insisted a wrong be made right. That tenet was the cornerstone of his life. And then she remembered…“I lost the scarf. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Luna said, actually looking relieved. “I’m glad it’s gone.”

“What?”

But Luna was nodding. “It wasn’t right. And it wasn’t salad. It was sadness. Some of the greens edging toward blue. I could see it. It was my punishment, but you wouldn’t have to know.”

And this was why Luna’s weaving was brilliant. She put herself into her art, while Kaylie baked brownies…and ate her creative efforts. “Then I’m glad it’s gone. I don’t want a scarf that makes you sad. I want the scarf we talked about in Gruene. The scarf that makes me think of that day. And of Ten.”

“Ten?”

“The
dulce de leche
of his hair. And the coconut sprinkles where he doesn’t know he has gray. And the pecans. His eyes are that color of brown. And the cayenne…” She stopped, shivered. “You were right about him being hot.”

Luna’s face broke into a huge smile. “So when I thought you were coming up with a recipe for brownies, you were coming up with a recipe for Ten?”

“I was,” she said, and she didn’t even blush.

“I’m glad, Kaylie. I’m really glad. You two are perfect as one.” Luna gave her a quick hug. “I’m going to go. You’ve got a lot to deal with here and I don’t want to get in your way.”

“You’ll never be in the way. We’re friends.”

“And I’m so glad we are,” Luna said, smiling as she ran back to her car.

Kaylie had just returned to Ten, waving Luna on her way, when Mitch’s truck turned off Second onto Chances.

“Crap on a cracker,” Ten muttered, more to himself than to her.

“Hey, you.” She shoved him, but playfully. “That’s not very nice.”

“I’m not a very nice man,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring down.

“You’re the nicest man I know. Which is why you’re going to wait here while I talk to Mitch.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. And don’t be grumpy about it.”

“I’m allowed to be grumpy. You just lost your house.”

“But that’s not what you’re being grumpy about.”

He twisted his mouth before saying, “I’m grumpy because I don’t like that he lied to you.”

“Luna lied, too, and you weren’t grumpy about her.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. So she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Let me do this, and then we can go talk to my insurance guy. See how long it’s going to be before I can get a check.”

“Am I sensing some impatience here?”

“You’re sensing a lot. If I know what’s ahead, the crash won’t be so bad when it comes.”

“I was wondering about that, too.”

She took a deep breath, reached out, and squeezed his arm. “I’m trusting you’ll be here to catch me when I fall?”

The look in his eyes took her breath away. “I’ll be here always.”

H
e’d tried to stay away. He’d really tried. Last night he’d been on his way home from Bent Bailey’s Bar, having eaten a late burger with Morris Dexter, when he’d seen the ladder truck headed down Second Street, sirens blaring, lights cutting swaths of color through the night. His gut had tumbled, his heart pounding furiously through the U-turn he’d taken on two wheels.

He’d detoured across town to Chances Avenue just in case the alarm had indeed come from Kaylie’s, not wanting to hit the blockade meant to keep onlookers away. His father’s intuition was telling him that it had. The fact that he hadn’t been a parent to her didn’t matter. His little girl was in trouble, and he couldn’t stay away. Not then. Not now. He’d had to come back, see what she’d lost, if the damage was irreparable. Find out if she was done with Hope Springs and moving on. Moving out of his life.