Page 27 of To Hold and Protect

Two years ago, he’d sold a painting at a New York show, the only one he’d ever done of a fire. The scene was from a wildfire, and he’d managed to catch the power and yes, the beauty of a fire, and the horror of it.

He’d never forget that day. It had been a dry late summer, and wildfires were popping up all over. This one had been particularly brutal, refusing to be contained. He and his crew were clearing brush to create a fire line when a mama bear and her cub raced out of the flames. Once cleared of the fire, the mama bear stopped, stood on her hind legs as she turned back to face the fire, and emitted a hair-raising cry.

“She’s got another cub in there,” someone on the line said.

A gasp escaped past Parker’s lips when the mama growled at the cub, and then disappeared back into the flames. The cub whined as it paced, but it didn’t follow its mother. The growl from mama must have been a warning to stay put. A few minutes passed, then the mother bear emerged with a second cub dangling from her mouth.

She dropped it to the ground, and it didn’t move. Parker held his breath, wishing he could do something to help as the mother licked her cub, trying to revive it. After what felt like hours but was only minutes, the rescued cub made a kind of coughing noise. As soon as the cub was up and moving, the bear family ran toward them. The line crew parted, and the bears raced past them as if they didn’t exist.

Compelled to paint what he’d witnessed, Parker had included the painting in a show. He’d titled itEscaping the Fire. Even though it was only his second New York art show, the turnout had been impressive, considering he was a newly discovered artist. He didn’t like crowds, but he understood the importance of mingling so everyone attending could talk to him. There’d been one man he’d taken an instant dislike to.

Parker closed his eyes and visualized the man, tried to remember his name.

Before Parker knew he didn’t like the man, and was doing his mingling thing, he’d walked up to the guy as he stared at the painting. “That was a day I’ll never forget.” He told the man about seeing the mama bear go back into the fire to rescue her cub.

“What would have been amazing was if she’d come out of the fire with her fur in flames,” the man said. “Imagine how beautiful that would have been.”

Struck speechless, Parker took a step away. He needed to go mingle somewhere else.

The man grabbed his arm. “Don’t pretend seeing something like that wouldn’t give you a thrill. You and I understand the power of a fire, the beauty of it. This painting is proof of that.”

He tried to avoid the guy after that, but every time he turned around, the man was in his face. The guy followed him around, interrupted when Parker was trying to talk to other people. He wanted to buyEscaping the Fire, but said the price was too high and Parker should give him a deal on it since they both understood the beauty of the fire.

“You’ll have to talk to the gallery owner,” Parker said, wanting the man to leave him alone. “He sets the prices.”

“You’re the artist, you can tell him you want to give me a deal on it.”

“Sorry, but according to my contract, I can’t do that.” It was a lie, but something inside him didn’t want the man to have the painting.

He’d thought he was rid of the man, but a little later the guy returned, and he was furious that the painting had a Sold tag on it. Parker didn’t know who’d bought it, but bless them. He’d give it away before letting the man have it...what the hell was his name?

Parker sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and turned on his lamp. Kade had still been in the Army and was on a mission, so he hadn’t been able to come to the show, but Tristan had been there. Parker grabbed his cell phone and called his brother.

“Another fire?” Tristan said on answering.

“No, but—”

“Then why are you calling me at four in the morning?”

“You remember that dude at my second New York show that I had to get you to run interference on when he wouldn’t leave me alone?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Do you remember his name?”

“No. Again, why?”

“It’s possible he’s our arsonist.”

Chapter Thirteen

Willow groaned when her alarm went off. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled as she punched the snooze button. Thirty minutes and three snoozes later, she resisted hitting the button a fourth time and dragged her tired butt out of bed.

After a shower and her second cup of coffee, she started to feel normal again. The book fair had been a success, and although she’d intended to drive home as soon as it was over, a group of her author friends guilted her into going out to dinner with them. Her plan to leave for Marsville as soon as they finished dinner was hijacked when they talked her into going to a bar where a friend’s band was playing.

Since she was driving home as soon as she could escape, she’d nursed a beer until midnight, when she’d hugged her friends and then left for home. She should have booked a room and stayed overnight in Charlotte, and she would have if not for the promised tour of Parker’s studio and house.

She hadn’t left because of Parker, since men were on her no-no list for a while. Nope, the studio and house tour were the reasons she hadn’t stayed to spend more time with the friends she only got to see at book signings and author conferences.

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