by Brenda Novak
He shoved her back toward the truck. “Get Jayden.”
Sadie wasn’t about to do that, not with an argument brewing. “No. We’re both exhausted and upset. We might’ve lost the only belongings we have left, and we were barely scraping by to begin with.”
“We’ll talk about that later. Get Jayden. I’m taking you home.”
“Home?”
“To the house we bought together. That’s still home, Sadie. Where else are you going to go?”
Holy shit! This was exactly what he wanted. He thought she’d come back to him; he thought, without her rental house, she’d have no choice. “Oh my God,” she whispered.
“What?” he snapped.
“You did it! You burned my house down so I’d have nowhere to live, so that I’d have no resources and would have to come back to you.”
“Now you’re talking crazy,” he growled. “I’m a police officer. Be careful who you accuse of arson!”
“Who else would do such a thing to me?”
“It could be anyone! I told you not to hang around a murderer. For all we know, it was him—the very man you called!”
“It wasn’t him,” she insisted. “If he wanted to hurt me, he’s had plenty of chances. You’re the only one who’s ever made my life miserable.”
“What have I done to you?” he cried. “You’re such a baby. But we’ll talk about all of this later. Get Jayden.”
He had no conscience. He’d do anything to retain control of her. He’d said as much—and tonight he’d proved it. “What about the collateral damage, Sly? Do you realize what you’ve done to Maude and Vern? They didn’t deserve this.”
“If you won’t get Jayden, I will.”
He started to go around her, but she grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare! I won’t drag him out of that truck just because you can’t stand to see me in the company of another man. Dawson’s my boss, Sly. And...and a friend. He doesn’t like me in the way you think. He’s made that clear.”
The sudden fury she’d expected when she accused him appeared now. “He has, has he? You’ve talked about it? The two of you?”
“Don’t twist what I say!”
“I’m not going to let this no-good bastard come between us, Sadie.”
“He’s not trying to come between us!” Their voices were so loud she guessed Dawson could hear bits and pieces, if not everything. “He’s being a nice guy, helping me out.”
He shoved her again, hard enough to make her stumble back. “He’s a murderer!”
The driver’s-side door opened, and Dawson got out. “Get back in the truck, Sadie.” He spoke in a cordial tone as he came toward them, but Sadie could tell he’d had all he could take. She wanted to do as he said, to escape Sly as soon as possible, but she couldn’t. She had to remain between them. She was afraid of what might happen if she didn’t.
“Please, let me go with him,” she said to Sly. “I wouldn’t come back to you even without Dawson in my life. I was unhappy. Don’t you understand that? So unhappy that I could barely get up in the mornings. I don’t love you anymore. The only thing I want is for you to let me go!”
His hand whipped out and grabbed her arm, fingers digging deep into her flesh, like they had so many times before—deep enough that she’d have bruises. But the pain wasn’t what alarmed her. Almost as fast, Dawson gripped Sly’s arm in the same “I’m in charge” manner.
“Let her go. Now,” he gritted out.
Sadie watched Sly’s eyes flare in surprise. He was so used to doing what he wanted—and getting away with it almost uncontested in this town—that he hadn’t expected Dawson to go so far in her defense. His top lip curled under and his other hand went for his gun with such determination that Sadie felt sure he’d shoot Dawson. She opened her mouth to scream, but, in that moment, someone besides the three of them called out to Sly.
“What’s going on, Harris?”
The chief of police had pulled up while they were arguing and was getting out of his car. He obviously thought Sly was about to apprehend Dawson, but the sound of his boss’s voice caused Sly to let go of Sadie, back away—and leave his gun holstered. “Nothing,” he muttered.
“Then what’re you doing out here when everyone else is in back?” Thomas demanded.
Sly’s chest was rising and falling fast, but he managed to modulate his voice so that he sounded somewhat normal. “I was—I was checking on my wife and son to...to make sure they’re okay.”
Chief Thomas strode toward them. “And?”
“I’m fine,” Sadie said, but her heart was pounding so fast she thought she might faint.
The police chief turned his attention to Dawson—and grimaced when he recognized him. “What’re you doing here?”
“He’s my boss,” Sadie cut in. “I called him when I heard someone outside my house, and he was kind enough to come.”
Shouting from around back drew the chief’s attention. Sadie supposed the noise had been going on all along. The firefighters were still battling the blaze back there. She’d seen the frenetic activity before Sly had shown up, but, somehow, she’d been so caught up in what was happening right here over the past several minutes, she hadn’t noticed the noise since.
“Are they getting the blaze under control?” Thomas asked.
“I haven’t been around back to see,” Sly grudgingly admitted.
“I’m in good hands,” Sadie told Sly. “You can... You can go ahead and do your job now.”
She was sort of surprised that the chief didn’t raise a fuss about Dawson, given what he believed Dawson to be. Obviously, he was more concerned about the fire than trying to control the company she was keeping, as Sly should’ve been. That her ex had focused so quickly on her, despite the fact that her house was burning, served as yet more proof that he’d known about the fire all along—and didn’t care. He was only concerned about the fact that she was fleeing in the wrong direction.
As Sly stalked off with his chief, Sadie covered her mouth and breathed slowly through her fingers, trying to calm down. She thought he might turn and glare at them both, but he didn’t. Maybe he was as shocked as she was that he’d almost done something even more reckless than setting fire to her house.
“I can’t believe that happened,” she murmured as she dropped her hand. “And what could’ve happened if Chief Thomas hadn’t arrived when he did.”
Dawson was the one glaring—at Sly’s back. “He almost drew his weapon,” he said, his voice filled with the same shock and anger she felt.
She checked to make sure Jayden was still in the truck and saw him standing up in the seat, hands on the dashboard, nose almost pressed to the glass. “Sly’s not right in the head,” she whispered. “He’s obsessed with...with making sure I don’t get away.”
Dawson shook out his hand, which had been curled into a fist. “He’s the one who set the fire.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “He wasn’t the least bit surprised that there was a major blaze going on. Did you notice?”
“He thought you’d have to move in with him.”
Where would she go? The full extent of where she’d be without her small cottage hit her in that moment. Although she’d been worried all along, she’d been holding out hope that her house and most of the things inside it could be saved. She was still hopeful. But even if they could save her belongings, the fire had to have done enough damage by now that she’d probably have to live elsewhere while the cottage was being repaired or rebuilt. Where would she go? She didn’t have any family she could stay with. And Petra didn’t have room for her. She couldn’t see herself moving in with Petra and her family, anyway. She couldn’t see herself trying to stay with Maude and Vern, either. They were nice, but she doubted they’d even make the offer.
She’d have to hit up one of the waitresses she worke
d with to see if she could move in and pay half the rent, but she hated how awkward that would be, especially because she wouldn’t be able to afford a great deal. She’d have to spend what money she was making on replacing clothes and other basic necessities.
“I’m so tired,” she mumbled as she gazed at the little person who was depending on her to take care of him.
“Everything’ll be okay,” Dawson said. “Let’s go to the farm.”
“You won’t mind letting me stay the night?”
“Of course not. You can stay until you have somewhere better to go.”
He’d made it easy. His kindness brought a lump to her throat. He’d been through a lot himself, and yet he’d stepped up to help her, even though he was already helping her by providing a job with pay on which she could actually survive. Everyone expected her to be skeptical of his help, but she could tell Dawson had no ulterior motive. He was what she thought he was—a nice guy.
“Are you sure?” She blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the tears that threatened in the wake of so much drama, fear, anger and upset. She’d cried in front of him once before. She didn’t want to cry again, didn’t want to give him any more reason to regret befriending her.
“You work there, anyway. Consider it part of your pay, if that helps.”
“But you’re already paying me well.”
“I have the mortgage whether you stay or not. It’s not like it’ll cost me any more to have you.”
Would she have been this generous to him, had their roles been reversed? Like the rest of Silver Springs, she’d been so prejudiced against him, so conditioned to believe that a monster lurked behind that handsome face. “I just... I feel bad for leaning on you. You’re already carrying a heavy load.”
“There’s plenty of room at the farm.” He shrugged off his kindness as if it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a huge deal to her. Before she even knew what she was about to do, she grabbed him and hugged him—partly so that he wouldn’t be able to see the tears gathering in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your help.”
He’d stiffened when she grabbed him. The contact had obviously been unexpected. But then she felt his hands slide up her back and became instantly aware of his large, firm body. At that point, the hug turned into something a little more intimate than she’d intended, but the contact felt so good she couldn’t let go. She clung to him, even went so far as to close her eyes and let her fingers briefly slip through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He was the one who pulled away. “We’d better get some sleep.” After setting her gently to one side, he walked back to the truck as if that hug had never happened.
Sadie could hardly breathe for the acrid smoke billowing into the sky. Sly was in back, probably trying to keep the neighbors who’d wandered over, and the fire truck chasers, at a safe distance. She knew, if she got into the vehicle with Dawson, she’d be driving a wedge between her and her ex-husband, his friends on the force, almost everyone in town. She could easily become a pariah like Dawson. He’d warned her as much. So...was she making a mistake?
She feared she might be. She’d known Dawson for only four days. But in that time, he’d been a better friend to her than anyone else in Silver Springs.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned her back on everything that’d come before and got in the truck.
“Would you rather I take you to a motel?” he asked as she put on her seat belt. He’d already buckled Jayden in. Jayden’s safety seat was in her car around back; there was no way she could reach it.
She tried to imagine herself at one of the three local motels. The Mission Inn was the cheapest, but even that would cost over $100/night. She wouldn’t be able to stay there long even if she went there tonight. “No.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” she replied.
13
Sadie was glad she’d already cleaned Angela’s room. That made it possible for her and Jayden to fall into a clean bed. But as exhausted as she was—physically and emotionally—she couldn’t drift off. She kept wondering if all of her belongings had been destroyed and worrying about what it would cost to replace their basic clothes and toiletries, not to mention Jayden’s toys. She couldn’t bring herself to even think about trying to replace the furniture she’d managed to cobble together secondhand. And what about the sentimental items she might never see again? Like the professional photographs she’d had taken of Jayden when he was a baby? Her only pictures of her parents were in that house!
Could Sly really have done something so terrible to her? He claimed to love her, to have changed. He swore up and down that he’d treat her like a queen if she came back to him. But the memory of their encounter on the road just after she’d pulled out of the farm the other day had haunted her since it happened. The determination and hatred she’d seen in his eyes contradicted his proclamations of love, made her believe he did start the fire—to take his revenge on her for embarrassing him by defecting as much as to force her back to him. He didn’t really care about her, but he refused to lose her, couldn’t stand being the one left behind.
As she stewed over how the fire might or might not be progressing at her place, she heard Dawson moving around downstairs. He had to be tired, too. Why wasn’t he in bed, asleep?
Once she could slip out without disturbing Jayden, she got up. The clothes she’d been wearing at the fire had reeked so much of smoke she’d thrown them in the washer as soon as she arrived and Dawson had loaned her a clean T-shirt and some sweatpants. Although his sweats drowned her—she could only keep them on because of the drawstring at the waist—she wasn’t about to leave the room in nothing but his T-shirt, despite the fact that it hit her at midthigh.
“What’s going on?” she asked when she found him standing in the living room, gazing out the large picture window.
All the lights were off in the house. Obviously, he wanted to be able to see what might be happening in the front yard and, possibly, the highway beyond.
“Nothing,” he replied.
“Then why are you still up? You’ve got to be even more tired than I am.”
“The night’s not over yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“The police will be coming. They’ll need to get a statement from you.”
“I already told Sly what I saw and heard.”
Dawson grimaced. “You don’t think he’ll be the investigating officer, do you?”
“Who can say? If he’s the one who set the fire, he’ll certainly lobby for the job. He’d be stupid not to.”
“If that happens, you’ll have to complain, try to get someone else. You can’t let him investigate.”
Raising any sort of question about his integrity would piss Sly off so badly she doubted they’d ever be able to have a civil word with each other again. But what did he expect? He’d gone way too far, had forced her into a corner. She had to fight back. It wasn’t as if he’d been allowing their divorce to proceed, anyway.
“I will.” Even though it would make her life more difficult. For sure he’d seek custody of Jayden at that point. “I’m just hoping whoever will be investigating will wait until morning to question me. I’m not sure I’m up for it right now.”
“Even if that happens, Sly will come by tonight—if only to see whether you’re here instead of at a motel or somewhere else.”
Of course he would. Had she not been so frantic, so shocked and upset, she would’ve been expecting him, too. “That’s what you’re waiting for,” she said.
“Aren’t you?” he asked in surprise.
She sighed. “I’ve been too distraught to even think about it. But now that you mention it... I can see him coming over. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to make my life difficult—and I’m sure
you’re now on the same short list I am.”
He shoved a hand through his hair, which was sticking up as if he’d done the same thing many times already tonight. “You haven’t heard from him?”
She hadn’t checked her phone. She’d been so grateful to get away from the melee and have some quiet time in which to recover that she’d shoved her phone in her purse and left it there. She was dying to know if any of her stuff could be saved, but, at the same time, she was afraid she’d hear the opposite—that the firefighters hadn’t been able to salvage anything.
She wasn’t sure she could take that kind of news right now. “One sec.”
She went into the kitchen, where she’d set her purse on the counter. “Nothing,” she called back when she’d pulled out her phone. No missed calls. No texts. Did that mean the blaze had grown out of control? Was Sly and everyone still there, caught up in the emergency? Was Maude’s house in danger?
“This is a bad sign,” she said as she returned to the living room with her phone in hand.
Dawson turned to face her. “What’s a bad sign?”
“That he hasn’t tried to reach me. That makes me wonder if my entire house is burning to the ground—with everything I own inside it.”
“It’s natural to be worried, but try not to jump to any conclusions.”
How could she not? “I feel bad for...for interrupting your life,” she said. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure to move Angela out of that facility, and to get the farm up and running—”
“This won’t stop me,” he interrupted.
“I don’t even want it to delay you. I’ll help in the fields tomorrow.”
“Don’t you work at the diner?”
“No. Saturday’s my day off, remember?”
“How can they spare you? Isn’t that a busy day for the restaurant?”
“The busiest, but Petra can’t watch Jayden. She volunteers at her church on Saturdays, so they always give me Saturday off.”
