Page 112 of Smoke and Fire
"Why?" he asked quietly.
I struggled to wrap my mind around a response, even though I knew what he asked.Why didn't I tell him?
"It wasn't really my story to tell," I said. "She had her own ghosts to deal with, and she did that without disrespecting Jess's right for privacy and anonymity. I wanted to honor that for her . . . and for you."
His brow tightened as he thought about that, then nodded. The contemplation hadn't left his gaze yet.
"Thank you," he said.
I smiled.
The tips of his fingers drew a line down my cheek. He cupped my neck in his hand and pulled me close. Our lips crashed together like two fires converging. Seconds later, I sat in his lap, my hands in his hair. He pressed me close as the heavens opened up.
Blessed, life giving rain soaked us all the way through as I embraced the new future ahead of me.
30
BASTIAN
"Bash!" Dahlia cried. "Do you want peppermint or vanilla?"
A little giggle followed the question.
Dahlia and Inessa conspired together on the other side of the room, near Inessa's microwave. Inessa sat on top of a walker/chair combination—she was too weak to stand for long—with her oxygen tubing trailing from her bed.
Dahlia had a bright pink mug set out that saiddivafor Inessa, and another one with a black and red flannel pattern with a cartoon picture of a frowning lumberjack.
That would be mine.
I held back a grin and called, "Peppermint hot chocolate. Always."
Inessa pealed with laughter. "I won!" she cried. "I said it's what he'd want!"
Dahlia held up two hands, conceding. "You absolutely won Inessa, fantastic call. You know your brother better than anyone." She glanced back, saw me staring at her, and winked.
My heart settled into a funky rhythm.
Snow fell outside in a gentle, latticed pattern. It collected on the windowsill in gentle puffs. Inessa's breathing rate had started to increase, so she'd have to go back to bed soon. The nurse would be in to get her settled with dinner. We'd already been here for three hours while Nessa taught Dahlia how to paint. Besides, we'd need to drive back to Dad's before the weather in the canyon turned sour.
Now that Leslie Miller had taken over running the Frolicking Moose, Bethany of Mercedy Realty would be putting Dad's house on the market in the morning.
Dahlia insisted she had to scrub the bathroom one last time before people came to walk through. Letting go of that piece of my life felt a bit like saying goodbye to the past—and hello to the future. Finally, I could part with the lonely place, because I’d found something infinitely better.
Thankfully, the fire hadn’t pushed far enough south to burn up the RV park, so all Dahlia’s belongings remained safe. That meant I needed to take my final round of donations to the local thrift store, because living in a trailer with my girlfriend while we plotted out more books—in addition to the next phase of our life together—meant a lot of downsizing.
But we still had a few more minutes here with Inessa.
Emails populated on my screen from Priyanka. Why she used email subjects like a text message, I would never understand.
The subject lines gave me pause, then made me laugh.
Priyanka Patel:Here's a new PR opportunity that doesn't reveal anything.
Priyanka Patel:I hate it, but you were right again.
Priyanka Patel:Another article about the mysterious Jess.
Priyanka Patel:Did you see sales? Soared after the video.
