A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

"Sara?"

  The sound of a familiar female voice drew her away from the devastation. She walked out of the kitchen and through the dining room to find her childhood friend, Emma Kane-Callaway standing in the entry. Emma wore dark jeans tucked into black boots, and a cream-colored sweater under a black leather jacket. A hazel-eyed blonde who barely reached five foot two, Emma was still a force to be reckoned with. An athlete, and a bit of a tomboy, Emma had always been brimming with courage, confidence and drive, making her more than capable of keeping up with her five brothers.

  "Sorry for walking in, but the door is busted," Emma said, waving her hand to the door that was hanging off one hinge.

  "Aiden kicked it in when he rescued us."

  "I heard he arrived just in time. Aiden was never one for finesse."

  "No, but he saved my father's life so I'm very grateful." She paused, a smile spreading across her face. "It's so good to see you, Emma."

  Emma smiled back. "You, too. I wish it was under better circumstances." She opened her arms to give Sara a hug. "How are you doing?"

  "I'm hanging in there."

  "Tough day, huh?" Emma asked, sympathy in her gaze.

  "It wasn't great."

  "You won't want to stay here tonight, Sara. It stinks. Why don't you come next door? You can share my room the way we used to when we were kids."

  "We're a little old for that, aren't we?"

  "It will be fun, and my mom will love it. She's been complaining that the house is too empty these days with only three of us kids living at home, although Aiden is back now, so that makes four." Emma paused, giving her a sharp look. "And if you're worried about Aiden, he's in his old room over the garage. So I doubt we'll see much of him."

  "I'm not worried about Aiden," she said quickly. "Why would you think that?"

  "Oh, maybe because something went down between you two a very long time ago and no one ever told me what it was," Emma complained, her sharp gaze resting on Sara's face.

  "You always had a big imagination, Em. By the way, I like your short hair," she added. Emma's silky straight blond hair had been cut at an angle, the ends framing her face. "It brings out your eyes."

  "Thanks. It's easier to wear under my helmet. And you just changed the subject," she said pointedly.

  "I did, didn't I? How is it being a female firefighter?"

  "Actually, I'm an arson investigator now."

  "Really?"

  "Yes. I always liked a good mystery, so it's the perfect job for me. What about you? You're a lawyer, right? Your dad must be proud you followed in his footsteps," Emma said.

  She shrugged, doubtful he cared one way or the other.

  Emma frowned. "You look exhausted, Sara. There's nothing more you can do here tonight. Let the house air out, and you can tackle things in the morning. My mom made lasagna, and she has a plate for you in the oven. What you need right now is a good meal and some peace and quiet."

  Her stomach growled at the thought of Lynda's lasagna. "I am hungry. I'll take the lasagna and figure out where I'm going to sleep later."

  "Good idea."

  As they walked past the broken front door, Sara paused. "I need to get this fixed. I can't leave the house open all night."

  "I'm sure one of my brothers or my dad can repair it or put up some plywood for you. It will be fine for now. It's still a safe neighborhood.

  "Okay. I'll deal with it later."

  As they left the house, a cool breeze made Sara shiver, but she appreciated the crisp November air. It felt refreshing compared to the smoky heat of the house.

  They walked across the grass and down the driveway. No one ever used the front entrance of the Callaway house. The side door was closest to the kitchen and when they were growing up, getting food was usually the only reason they went inside.

  The delicious smell of garlic greeted her as she entered the kitchen, but the peace and quiet Emma had promised was lost in an angry argument between Aiden, his father, Jack, and his older brother, Burke. The three were standing in the middle of the kitchen, and they all appeared to be talking at once, raising their voices louder and louder as they fought to be heard. Lynda hovered off to one side, offering peacemaking entreaties, but no one was paying her any attention.

  "You need to take responsibility for your actions, Aiden," Burke said heatedly.

  The two oldest Callaway brothers had gone head-to-head for as long as Sara could remember. Their extremely competitive instincts had made it impossible for either one to accept that the other might be better or stronger.

  Burke was the older by two years and taller than Aiden, broader, too. His hair was a dark, dark brown, almost black, and his eyes were a deeper blue than his brother's. Burke had the look of a winner. He was clean-shaven, his hair short and styled, his clothes neat and unwrinkled. Aiden had a leaner build, a more rugged, sexy look, his hair a little too long, his jaw unshaven, his clothes showing every minute of his day. And some of those minutes had been spent carrying her father out of the basement, so she'd forgive the worn jeans and the dusty t-shirt.

  "I have taken responsibility," Aiden said shortly.

  "No, you've done nothing but stay silent, the way you always do after you screw up," Burke replied.

  Aiden's face paled under the attack, and Sara felt compassion for him. Burke had been a tough act for Aiden to follow. Burke had been the star quarterback in high school as well as the senior class president and had done all that while getting straight A's and winning national scholarships.

  Aiden had been a good athlete, too, excelling at baseball, but he'd never participated in school government or gotten good grades. He'd been much more interested in having a good time. And while Burke was impressing people right and left, Aiden was usually getting into trouble.

  "Burke is right," Jack interjected, his eyes on his younger son.

  "That I'm a screw up?" Aiden asked, sarcasm in his voice. "Tell me something I don't know, Dad."

  Jack's jaw tightened. He wasn't as tall as either of his sons, but he still had a big presence and a huge personality. His hair had gone white since Sara had last seen him, and his normally ruddy complexion was very red now, anger burning in his eyes.

  "You need to tell us what happened on that mountain," Jack continued. "You owe Kyle that much."

  Aiden's jaw tightened. "Don't talk to me about what I owe Kyle. Neither one of you knew him the way I did."

  "If you don't clear your name, no one will ever trust you again," Burke said harshly. "If you want to keep working as a firefighter, you sure as hell better come up with a good reason for losing one of your men."

  "Go to hell," Aiden said, turning away from his brother. His gaze collided with Sara's.

  She swallowed hard, not just seeing anger in his eyes, but also the pain. She had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that he was hurting.

  Aiden brushed past her and Emma without a word, the side door slamming behind him.

  "You both pushed too hard," Lynda scolded her husband and son. "You need to give Aiden a chance to defend himself. He's only been back a few hours."

  "It doesn't sound like he has anything to defend," Burke said.

  "You didn’t give him a chance. You're always so impatient, Burke."

  "He's had three weeks," Jack said, cutting off his wife. "Three weeks to come up with the plain, simple truth. That's all we're asking. You've always been too easy on Aiden."

  "And you've always been too hard," she retorted. "The truth is never plain and rarely simple, and you, of all people, should know that, Jack."

  Jack frowned at her pointed look. "I'm just trying to help my son."

  "I didn't hear either of you offering help, just condemnation."

  "I've got to go," Burke said. "I don't have time for this." As he finished speaking, he glanced toward Sara and Emma, his gaze widening as he appeared to realize for the first time that they had an audience. "Sara Davidson, right?"

  She nodded, not sure what to say in the midst of so much
tension. She'd always felt a little out of step in the Callaway house. They loved and fought with a tremendous amount of passion, which had been hugely different from the quiet stillness of her home where conflict was fought in cold, angry silence.

  "Nice to see you," Burke said politely, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere.

  "You, too," she said.

  "I'll walk you out," Jack told his son. "We need to talk."

  When the men had left, Emma said, "What was with the full frontal attack on Aiden, Mom?"

  "They're worried," Lynda replied. "And sometimes there's a little too much testosterone in this house."

  "Sometimes?" Emma echoed.

  "Sara, your food is in the oven," Lynda said. "I'm sorry for all the yelling, but I'm really glad you came over. How is your father?"

  "He's resting. He'll have some healing to do, but he should make a full recovery."

  "I'm so happy to hear that." She paused. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak to Jack. There's pasta in the oven and salad in the fridge. Emma will take care of you."

  "Thanks," Sara said.

  "Well, that was a crazy scene," Emma commented. "Never a dull moment in the Callaway house." She grabbed a hot pad and pulled a plate out of the oven. "I hope you're hungry. Mom is always very generous in her portions."

  As Emma pulled off the foil, Sara could see that she wasn't kidding. There was enough lasagna on the plate for three people.

  "Are you going to eat, too?"

  "Already did. You're on your own, but don't worry about finishing it all. Have a seat. I'll get the salad."

  She sat down as Emma pulled out a bowl of greens and a bottle of dressing.

  Picking up her fork, she took a bite of pasta and was immediately reminded of how hungry she was. Setting politeness aside, she dug into her meal and had finished half the plate before Emma set a glass of red wine in front of her and joined her at the table.

  "I guess you were hungry after all," Emma said.

  "I'd forgotten what a good cook your mom is. It's been a while since I had a home- cooked meal."

  Emma sipped her wine. "That's true. One of the benefits of moving back to the old homestead. Although, that benefit is often outweighed by a lack of privacy."

  "So give me the rundown on your brothers and sisters," Sara said, as she took another bite. "Who's doing what?"

  "Well, Burke was just promoted to chief, one of the youngest in the city, and he works out of a firehouse in the Russian Hill neighborhood. Aiden has been smokejumping for the forest service the past three years. He's based up in Redding, about four hours north of here. Nicole is a teacher at a private high school, but she only works part-time since her son, Brandon, was diagnosed with autism two years ago."

  "Her son?" Sara asked in surprise.

  "Yes, Brandon is five years old now. Around age three he started withdrawing, not making eye contact, losing his verbal skills. Nicole has become a warrior mom through it all. She works nonstop with Brandon and has investigated every therapy known to man. Unfortunately, Brandon still hasn't shown much improvement."

  "I'm so sorry," Sara said. "That must be incredibly difficult."

  "It is. And it's so unfair, because if anyone was meant to be a mother, it was Nicole. That's all she ever really wanted to be."

  "How is Ryan handling the situation?"

  "I'm not sure. I haven't seen either of them much lately."

  "So what's going on with Drew?" she asked, moving down the Callaway line-up.

  "Drew flies helicopters for the Coast Guard."

  "Ah, another hero type," she said with a laugh.

  "It's the Callaway way," Emma replied, grinning back at her. "Until you get to Sean. He's a musician, plays in a band, and waits tables on the side. My father continues to be horrified by his choices. Sean lets everything roll right off of him. He has a studio apartment off the Great Highway, and when he's not working he's usually on a surf board."

  "Sounds like a nice life. And the twins?" Sara asked. "I think they were about thirteen when I last saw them." The twins were the biological children of both Jack and Lynda Callaway, making their family truly yours, mine and ours.

  "They're twenty-three now. Shayla turned out to be a genius. She finished high school at sixteen and started college when she was seventeen. She's now in her third year of medical school. She wants to do Emergency Medicine. Colton is a paramedic and just got hired as a firefighter. Colton is more like Aiden than Burke, basically a smart ass. I'm not sure how well he's going to do with all the rules. Frankly, I'm not even sure if firefighting is what Colton really wants to do, but with Drew going into the Coast Guard and Sean playing guitar and drums, Colton got some pressure to go into the family business."

  Sara knew about family pressure. Actually, it wasn't so much pressure as it was expectation. Her dad had never told her to be a lawyer, but even without the words she'd felt compelled to follow in his footsteps.

  "How long are you going to be in town?" Emma asked. "Please say you're coming back for good."

  "Sorry. I came for the weekend, hoping to celebrate my dad's sixty-fifth birthday. So far my trip is going really badly. I had planned on leaving Sunday, but now I think I should probably stay for a few days and get the cleanup started. My father will be off his feet for several weeks." She sighed. "I really messed things up."

  "You? How is this your fault?" Emma asked, arching one eyebrow in confusion. "Wasn't your dad cooking?"

  "Yes, but he didn't know I was going to surprise him for his birthday, and he was distracted as well as angry."

  "Why?"

  "Because he doesn't want me here."

  "That's crazy. He's your dad. Although, I have to admit that your father always scared the crap out of me, and I don't find that many people intimidating. Even now when I see him on the lawn, I scurry inside like a timid rabbit."

  Sara smiled. "I cannot see that happening, but I know exactly how you feel. He's always scared me, too. It's stupid. I shouldn't be afraid to talk to my own father." She set down her fork. "Enough about me, what's up with you? Any men in your life?"

  Emma sat back in her chair. "Not for the last three months. I lived with a guy for two years. I thought he was the one, but it turned out he wasn't. We had a bad break-up, and that's why I'm here in the family home again. I needed a place to stay and some of my mom's home cooking and tender, loving care." Emma drank some wine, then added, "Coming home has been good for me in a lot of ways. I love my career, but sometimes it's difficult to fight not only fires and arsonists but also prejudice against females. I always have to be on my game, and any mistake I make gets magnified out of proportion. It's stressful."

  "I'd think with all the Callaways working in the fire department, you'd be shown more respect. Doesn't your father have a big job in the department?"

  "Yes, he's the battalion chief. But my family name actually makes it tougher for me. I have to prove that I'm really good, and that I didn't get this job because I'm a Callaway."

  Seeing the determination in Emma's eyes, Sara was certain that her friend would prove all the doubters wrong.

  "What about you?" Emma asked, an inquisitive light in her eyes. "I don't see a ring on your finger."

  "Too busy working. Like you, I've been trying to prove myself, and right now I'm on the partner track."

  "Does that track keep you warm at night?" Emma teased.

  "No, but it keeps me too busy to think about anything else."

  "You were always good at staying focused, Sara. Me, I was easily distracted, especially by hot guys," she added with a laugh.

  Emma's words made Sara think about Aiden. She'd certainly been distracted by him a lot as a teenager. "Can you tell me anything about the accident Aiden was in?"

  "Not much." Emma set down her wine glass. "Aiden was jumping a wildfire a few weeks ago in the Shasta-Trinity forest, and apparently the winds changed quickly. Their exit routes were cut off, and the crew was separated. In the end, everyone got to safety e
xcept Kyle Dunne. There are a lot of rumors about what happened. A couple of the smokejumpers seem to feel that Aiden made some bad decisions that day. We were hoping he would come back and tell everyone what happened, but as you heard, he doesn't seem inclined to defend himself."

  "He's probably still reeling from Kyle's death."

  "I'm willing to cut him all the slack in the world, but Burke and my father…" She shrugged. "They're impatient, and they want answers."

  "Someone hit Aiden today—after he saved my dad's life," she said. "We were standing in front of the house and one of the firefighters walked up and punched Aiden in the face. I think his name was Hawkins."

  Emma's lips tightened. "Ray Hawkins. His cousin was on the fire with Aiden and Kyle, and I don't think he was ever a fan of Aiden's. I suspect he's responsible for a lot of the negative rumors. Not that I know for sure Aiden didn't do something wrong. He can push the envelope."

  "Yes, he can," she muttered.

  Emma gave her a curious look. "Okay. I've been wondering for more than a decade. It's time to talk. What happened between you two?"

  "Nothing," she said quickly.

  "You said that before, but I didn't believe you then, and I don't believe you now. You had a huge crush on him when we were in high school, and right before we graduated –"

  "I had a crush on a lot of people," she said, cutting Emma off.

  "Not like that one. Maybe I should just ask Aiden what went down."

  "He'll tell you the same thing," she replied, hoping that was true.

  "We'll see." Emma got to her feet.

  "Wait. You're not going to ask him now, are you?" she asked worriedly.

  Emma laughed. "I should, because your face is all red and that's a sure sign that you're lying. But actually, I was just going to ask him to fix your front door. I don't think Colton is around, and I'm sure you don't want to leave the door open all night."

  "I don't want to bother Aiden," she protested. "He's having as bad a day as me. Maybe I can do it myself."

  "You?" Emma asked doubtfully.

  "Okay, maybe not me," she agreed. Her handyman skills were non-existent. "But I'm sure I can call someone."

  "Yeah, we can call Aiden."