Rugged Fire [Rugged Savage Valley, Colorado 4]

by Edith DuBois

  On the first page, her mother had written, “WARNING OF THE WITCH: If your hand did not write these words, your eyes will burn out of their sockets upon reading them now. Do not venture forth. You shall regret it.”

  Lianne giggled. Her mother had loved her reputation as the local witch. In fact, Lianne was almost certain her mother had a considerable hand in propagating the witchy rumors. Only Lianne knew exactly what her mother was capable of. And it wasn’t spells or potions or curses or burning people’s eyes out of their sockets.

  Her mother simply saw how people fit together. She had once described her unique talent to Lianne. She’d said it was like the world was a tapestry. People and places and time and events, all of them threads making up the whole world, and every person in it had been woven into a great unending mantle that stretched over the earth. Every person had a unique strand that fit into the greater picture in an infinitesimal, intricate way, and her mother told her that she had the ability to pick out patterns and colors in people to see how they best fit together. However, this skill meant that she came to be known as somewhat of a matchmaker.

  The great disappointment of her mother’s life, though, was that the man she fit with best was what her mother referred to as a “loose thread.” He fit in one place one day and another the next. He’d spent three months with Lianne’s mother, long enough to get her pregnant, and then he’d vanished.

  Lianne didn’t know his name, didn’t know what he looked like, and didn’t even know if he knew of his daughter’s existence. She’d long ago abandoned the idea of some day tracking down her father. He wasn’t anyone really, just a figment of her imagination that she’d concocted and pieced together from fiction, but with the possibility of what was inside her mother’s notebooks, she felt old longings stir up. What if there was some clue or link inside of them that would point her toward her father? Would she go after him? Would she leave it alone?

  She flipped to the first page full of her mother’s elegant scrawl.

  Had trouble with a grass stain in Lianne’s jeans. She must walk on her knees for fun during recess, but then I mustn’t blame a seven-year-old for finding pleasure in such diversions. As I cursed the little, darling stains, I was reminded of when he told me to quit with the damn laundry and walk around naked for god’s sake. Sometimes I smell him in Lianne’s hair and skin. It can be quite difficult to hug her good night when this happens.

  Lianne blinked, ripping her eyes away from the words for a moment to absorb the unexpected discovery. My skin smells like my father’s? The revelation washed through her and filled her with an odd delight. She lifted her arm to her nose and breathed in. She held the idea against her chest. She treasured the newfound knowledge, tucked it in, looked at it with adoration for a long while, but then finally left it to rest, safe and warm. She delved back into the notebook with vigor. She read for hours, finding particular joy with the odd bits of advice her mother provided for any unsuspecting reader. Snippets like, “One may succeed only when one attempts,” or, “Sadly, there are afternoons when sacrificing the nap proves necessary.” Lianne’s favorite, though, was, “The more one feeds the cat, the less he hunts the mice. Therefore, one should cease to feed the cat. He must learn the power of tooth and claw for himself.”

  Her mother’s odd advice began to feel personal. Like somehow she had known that Lianne would one day discover the notebooks and that she would need the advice. Lianne didn’t need handouts. She wouldn’t let a few small setbacks keep her from achieving the biggest, most important dream she’d ever had. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel daunted by the sheer overwhelmingness of the project. She was the cat, and there was no one to feed her. She had to figure this all out on her own.

  Yet, in the back of her mind was the comforting knowledge that Seb had promised to help her if she needed it. She knew he hadn’t offered that help in vain.

  If she needed him, she could have him.

  Chapter Two

  “Why on earth do you two have your coats on?”

  William frowned at the worried tone in his mother’s voice. He and Seb had walked into the annex only moments before, and the anxiety had already hit. Their mother, Miranda Carson, lived in the annex, and the second she’d seen them in their heavy jackets, she’d become worried.

  “You’re not planning on going out, are you? On a night like this? The Weather Channel said it would get down almost to below freezing! And besides, it’s nearly seven in the evening. Much, much too late for anyone to wander out into the frosty air.”

  “Mother,” Will said in a soothing voice, “we’ll be fine. You know we’ve gone out in much worse.”

  “Yes, but there’s supposed to be some wind tonight. You know how the chill can get down in your lungs and cause one of those terrible, hacking coughs, and then you won’t get any sleep at all, and you will probably contract some sort of serious illness from a lack of sleep and a weakened immune system. I read about it in Reader’s Digest, and really, it’s always better if you stay in. That’s what all the reliable sources advise. They say it’s better to stay in and stay warm. Just the thought of such a wind gives me the shivers, boys.” She shuddered and pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders. “I hate to see you go out in this.” She leaned over in her chair to peer anxiously out the window and then shook her head.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to take you over to Agnes’s? They’re having stew tonight. Both of her nieces are going to be there. The Ashleys, the Greenwoods. You’d be nice and warm and full of delicious stew, and you’d have plenty of company.”

  “Please let us take you over,” Seb added, pulling out the afghan to cover their mother’s lap more fully. “I think you’d be happier there, and we can pick you up on our way back from the game.”

  She looked out the window and then shuddered. “No, no. I’m perfectly happy here. I can’t imagine the downfall my health would take if I ventured out in that abysmal chill. In fact, will you boys check the window casings for me? I’m sure I feel a draft in here.”

  “Of course,” Will said as he and Seb began their routine check of all the windows and vents.

  “You can’t trust houses to keep you warm anymore. They don’t build them like they used to. When your father and I built our first house together, I never once felt a draft run through it. But these days, nobody cares about honest craftsmanship. These builders would as soon have loose window casings as not, and then I’m left to catch all manner of diseases that decide to float in willy-nilly.”

  After he and Seb had finished checking each of the windows, Will gave his mother the thumbs-up, and she nodded. “Good, good. But, oh dear, I would feel better if you two stayed here with me.”

  Will kissed her forehead. “You know we can’t. We’re expected at the game. Just like we are at every home game.” After a few more minutes of reassuring their mother that they would, in fact, be very safe and cozy in their jackets while braving the blustery elements, they bid her adieu and headed for the high school stadium.

  Once they arrived, he and Seb went to their usual seats. It was the last game of the regular season, and if Savage Valley won, they’d get a spot in the playoffs. The first half was pretty uneventful. Savage Valley was up by one field goal when the second quarter ended. The marching bands began their halftime routines, and Seb headed toward the concession stand to get them each a coffee.

  A few moments later, a head of shiny blonde curls bobbed through the thick, undulating crowd. Will felt something stir in his gut, and as the blonde head began marching up the bleachers, his suspicions were confirmed. Lianne Seward was here, and she was lugging someone behind her. Someone who looked eerily similar to her, in fact. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if Seb had said anything about her having a sister.

  At that moment, she looked up and spotted him. Her face lit up, and she waved. It had been a little over a week since Seb had called her about the partial loan. Will was impressed with how well she’d taken the news. The next
morning she’d called to inform them that she’d put together a new business plan that took into account the budget cuts they’d sent her. She’d been in touch ever since to discuss all the details that needed to fall into place.

  “Hi, Will! I didn’t realize you’d be at the game tonight.”

  “We come to every home game. I haven’t seen you before.” He winced, knowing he sounded harsh and accusatory. She did something to him. Her wide violet eyes rose to his face, and he thought he saw a moment of questioning, a moment of pushing and seeking. For a crazy instant, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold a strand of her silky hair between his fingers. He wanted to smell it and taste it.

  But then she smiled, pulling her friend in front of her. “I normally wouldn’t brave the crowd at a game like this, but Jamie here has never been to a high school football game.”

  “Never been to any football game,” Jamie corrected, thrusting her hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. I’m Will Carson.” After Lianne had settled on the bleachers next to him, and Jamie on her other side, Will asked, “So how is it you’ve never been to a football game, Jamie?”

  Before Jamie could answer, Lianne said, “Oh, her father doesn’t much care for public schooling, so she went to a bunch of really exclusive schools, and they didn’t do the whole ‘football’ thing. It’s much too frivolous for them. She didn’t want to come tonight, but I feel like this is such a necessary part of life, don’t you, Will?”

  “Possibly.”

  “I mean, obviously you do. You were varsity captain. How could you not?”

  “That was a while ago,” he said.

  “Oh please! I know I was just a little runt of a seventh grader, but all the boys in my grade thought you were the coolest. You and Seb. You two were kings. Everyone looked up to you. Everyone still does.” She beamed over at him but then leaned closer to her friend. “Don’t let his impassivity fool you. He’s a Savage Valley champion. Our little mountain lion team went to state and won his senior year.”

  Thankfully, Will spotted Seb heading up toward them with two Styrofoam cups in his hand. Will was saved from providing a response, none of which came readily to his mind. Of course he knew that a lot of Savage Valley natives looked up to him and his brother. That was why they took their position at the bank very seriously and why they made sure to attend every home game. Why they made it to every town meeting and every town event. They knew they had a role to fill. The thing was, it was never more than a burden for them, never something that either of them enjoyed. Will found it tiresome to interact with people at the bank. He dreaded hobnobbing with all the mountain lion fans at games.

  He was a part of Savage Valley because he had to be, not because he particularly wanted to be.

  “Lianne,” Seb said as he approached, smiling, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I brought my friend to the game. Jamie,” she said, turning to her friend, “this is Seb Carson.” Will detected an odd note in her voice. He’d heard it when she’d introduced him, and it was even more noticeable now that he knew to listen for it. And this time, he realized that it was accompanied by a pointed look at his brother. “And Seb”—she turned toward Seb—“this is my friend Jamie Norman.”

  Will froze, something clicking and falling into place in his mind. “Jamie,” he asked, a suspicion forming in his mind, “did you say that your father paid for you to attend private schools?”

  Immediately, the girl’s eyes darkened, and she met his with a challenge. “Yep. What about it?”

  “Your father wouldn’t happen to be Ulysses C. Norman, would he?”

  Jamie crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, he would.”

  “Is something the matter, Will?” Lianne asked, her eyes darting nervously between the two of them.

  “No. I hadn’t realized that Mr. Norman had a daughter. That’s all.” He tried to be as diplomatic as possible in any situation, but the words came out tightly. He noticed Seb had stiffened slightly as well.

  So many questions flooded his mind. How did Lianne know Jamie? Could he trust her? He and his brother had tried to stay out of the town’s dealings with NormCorp. He didn’t want to get the bank mixed up with the man, so they remained neutral, but now he found himself forced into the middle. Could Lianne be working with Jamie and her father to bring down the bank? How long had she and Jamie known each other? How close was Jamie with her father? Will assumed that there would be an inheritance for Jamie down the line. There had to be some sort of rapport between her and her father.

  “You know what,” Jamie said, “I think I see the Yeats twins. It was lovely to meet you two.” The way she sneered when she said it made Will think that might have been a slight stretch in her sentiments, but he didn’t mind. As long as she kept her nose out of things, he could handle a little animosity.

  Lianne called after her to come back, but Will watched with approval as she stomped down the bleachers and greeted the Yeatses with quite a warm hug. That made sense. Anyone who could cozy up to the lion-shifters couldn’t really be trusted.

  And now he and Seb had Lianne all to themselves.

  “What the hell was that?” Lianne asked, glaring at him.

  “What was what?” he asked, shrugging.

  “Don’t act like you don’t know. That was rude, Will.”

  “Will does have a point,” Seb said. “Her father is Ulysses C. Norman. You know he doesn’t have the best reputation here. And if people see us cavorting with his daughter, that’s not exactly the best publicity.”

  “You two are acting like a couple of close-minded, small-town ninnies. I seriously hope this is a momentary lapse because if you don’t want to be seen ‘cavorting’ with Jamie Norman, then I’m not sure I want to be seen ‘cavorting’ with a bunch of jerks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find my friend, who may not have the best pedigree but at least has some manners.” Lianne started to stomp off, but then she whipped around and marched back up the few steps toward them. “And even if you had a problem with her, she’s my friend and I trust her. That should have been enough.”

  She turned and stomped off, but for the second time, she whipped around and came back up to them. “And besides all of that, she and her father don’t even talk to each other!” She jabbed a finger at Will. “It was poorly done, Will.” Then she jabbed her finger at Seb. “Poorly done.”

  Finally she turned with a grandiose flip of her hair and stomped all the way down the bleachers. Will looked around. Several nearby spectators quickly averted their eyes when they realized that Will was glaring at them.

  Perhaps he should have listened to his mother after all and stayed in.

  The air was too cold, and suddenly, he felt like shit.

  * * * *

  “You were so right, Jamie! They are arrogant jerks. I thought that maybe they were shy or reserved. I can’t believe Will treated you like that. He had no right. Absolutely no right.”

  Lianne stomped back and forth in her living room, the phone held up to her ear as she ranted. Jamie was out, probably still at Catdaddy’s with the Yeatses, but Lianne had gone only gotten one beer then gone home. “And, you know, I’m kind of embarrassed. I hate that he was so rude to you, and then Seb not saying anything, just letting him go on and nodding.”

  “Really, Lianne, don’t sweat it. I’m fine.”

  “That’s not the point! I really wanted you to like them.”

  “You did?”

  Lianne stopped her angry pacing, realizing she’d said too much.

  “Do you like them?” Jamie asked.

  “N–No. I mean, that’s not what I was talking about. You’re my friend, and I have all that stuff going on with them—”

  “I’m beginning to wonder what kind of stuff, exactly.” Jamie giggled.

  “No! I just mean that with all the loan stuff, and then with all the crap you’ve been getting around town about your dad. I thought they wouldn’t care about all that.�
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  “You so like them.”

  Lianne collapsed onto the couch, her breath coming out in a defeated huff. “Damn it.”

  “Look, don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. What you should be worrying about is getting them in your bed.”

  “Jamie!”

  “Let me guess. You went home, jumped straight into your pajamas, fixed a cup of hot tea, and are now trying to decide whether you should watch the new Jane Eyre again, read the next chapter in Emma, or do some work on the attic.”

  Lianne glanced down at her pajama-clad legs. “That’s not entirely true.”

  “Come on, Lianne. Call those boys up. Invite them over. Get yourself some lovin’.”

  “You’re still with the Yeatses, aren’t you?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Have you already hit the moonshine?”

  Jamie didn’t say anything, only giggled.

  “Jamie! I told you to stay away from that stuff. It’s too strong.”

  Jamie muttered a reply, but Lianne’s phone beeped, blocking out the conversation for a moment. “Hey, Jamie, I’ve got another call, but be careful tonight, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  “Will you?”

  “Bye, Lianne. Blue eyes await me.”

  Lianne suppressed a groan. Jamie would do what she wanted to, but Lianne wished she’d do it with someone other than a couple of lion-shifters. She liked the Yeatses all right, but they were bootleggers. In fact, they kind of reminded her of her cousins Noah and Carter. Those two were the wild ones of the bear-shifters and the Yeatses were the wild ones of the lions. She didn’t want Jamie to get her heart broken when the Yeatses had had their fun with her. But she’d have to worry about that later.

  “Hello,” she answered the call, some of the annoyance lingering in her voice.

  “It’s Seb.”

  “Oh! Seb…um, hi.”

  “My brother and I are at the diner. We’d like you to meet us here.”