A Change Of View (Northern Lights Book 2)

by Freya Barker

  Ace trots hopefully beside me to my Jeep. He likes rides apparently. I was over at the motel yesterday to grab a few more clothes, and he jumped in the driver’s side the moment I opened the door, so I let him come for the ride. Shopping is another matter. I doubt that he can come inside the Valu-Mart, and leaving him in the car with this ongoing heat would just be cruel.

  “You stay here, buddy,” I tell the fierce-looking, but sweet-natured dog, whose pout is almost irresistible. “Tell you what—how about I bring you back a special treat?” Silly mutt is wagging his tail furiously like he understands what I’m saying.

  “You’re gonna have him so spoiled, he won’t even know who Roar is by the time he gets back.”

  I turn around to find Patti coming toward me. She must’ve just arrived.

  Since the break-in at the motel, when she was the first person to reach out to help, we’ve been getting along surprisingly well. Still, we’ve never really addressed the awkward situation we find ourselves in.

  “I’m sure Roar will hold his spot as alpha without much problem,” I suggest with a smile.

  “Have you heard anything?” Her smile slowly disappeared to show the strain of worry underneath and I could shoot myself. I never even considered she might be worried about him, too. I’ve been faithfully keeping Charlotte up to speed with what little information I get, but have not once mentioned anything to Patti.

  “Oh good Lord, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think—” I try to apologize, but Patti shakes her head sharply, cutting me off.

  “You couldn’t have known,” she says, a kind smile on her face. “They used to contact me, years ago, when he was still more active. Roar felt it was better should something happen, that I pass the news to Charlotte. It’s been quite a few years since the last time he was called out, and I honestly never thought I’d be this worried—but I am.” Her sheepish grin warms me even further to her.

  “He’s fine,” I quickly tell her. “They hope to get the fire under control soon, and when that happens, Roar’s unit is likely to be the first to head back home.”

  “Hope so,” she says earnestly. “You know, I know I didn’t take it well at first, but I’m actually grateful you came here.”

  To say I’m surprised would be the understatement of the century, but I keep my reaction level and try not to blurt out, “You are?” Instead I nod and wait for her to go on.

  “I’m starting to see that I was desperately trying to hang on to Tom’s memory, by staying as close as possible to the only other person who could still feel his loss as acutely. I suspect Roar was doing the same, except he came to that conclusion long before I did.” She takes one look at me and buries her face in her hands, and I see her shoulders shaking.

  I don’t quite know what to say. Standing in the parking lot of the lodge, in the middle of the day, having a really fucking deep conversation with my lover’s emotional ex-lover is well out of my comfort zone, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything in my life recently has been well out of my comfort zone, and I’m getting better at rolling with the punches. I dig through my purse and come up with a packet of tissues.

  “Here,” I say awkwardly, shoving them at Patti, who lifts her red face from her hands. She takes one look at the tissues, then at my worried face, and promptly shoves her face back in her hands.

  Well, that went well.

  “No-oh,” she hiccups, reaching out with one hand to clasp my wrist. “I’m not crying. I’m laughing,” she explains, and I finally clue in. “It was your face. I’ve never seen someone look so utterly uncomfortable as you did. It was hilarious.”

  -

  I dropped the applications at town hall, and went to quickly check on Charlotte, who was busy beating some hapless seniors—young ‘uns, she called them, since they were only in their seventies—at euchre, and didn’t need anything from the store. I just finished my groceries, another two hundred dollars later, and am pulling onto the street when something occurs to me. I’m only two blocks from Henry Kline’s office.

  Despite repeated attempts to get hold of him, we haven’t been able to so far. Either the man is supremely busy, we are very unlucky, or someone is doing a fabulous job at avoiding us. My money is on the latter. The problem is, I can’t figure out why.

  I just spoke to the secretary yesterday, and she mentioned Henry would be out of town on business for an undetermined time, but when I pull into the firm’s parking lot, I clearly see his car parked in its marked spot. Why would she lie?

  I park the Jeep in a vacant spot, throw a worried glance at my groceries on the back seat because I have frozen yoghurt in my bags, before I decisively get out of the car and head for the front door.

  “Hi,” I greet the girl at the front desk with the friendliest smile I can muster, even though I feel like throwing a tantrum. “I’d like to see Henry Kline right away?”

  “Let me call his assistant and see if he is available.”

  The girl picks up the phone on her desk and in an on the spot decision, I reach over and place my hand over hers on the receiver.

  “You know what?” I smile at her, hoping I look disarming and not slightly maniacal, like I feel. “I’ll just head up and talk to her myself. That way I can make an appointment if he’s not free.”

  Her mouth is moving like a fish out of water, and I’m not about to wait until she finds her words. I rush past her and up the circular stairs to the first floor where his offices are. I’m rushing because I’d like to catch him and his assistant unaware, before they have a chance to come up with another excuse.

  Pushing through the tall double doors I see at once Henry’s assistant rising up from behind her desk, and the door wide open to his office.

  “Hi there!” I chirp nervously, waving as I hustle past the woman’s desk and into the office beyond, before she has a chance to stop me. “Henry!” I call out when I find him sitting behind his desk. “What a surprise. I was told you were out of town, I took a chance and look...here you are.” I hear a rustle behind me as his assistant finally catches up with me.

  “I’m sorry, sir. She rushed right past me.”

  Henry’s face which had been frozen in shock at my unconventional entrance, smoothed out in front of my eyes, and with a pleasant smile he turns to the woman.

  “It’s fine, Rebecca. Close the door behind you?”

  With just a few words and a flick of his hand, Henry is firmly back in control. Always with the impeccable manners—except when he doesn’t return my calls—Henry pushes himself up behind his desk and gestures at one of the visitor’s chairs. I take his silent invitation and sit down, and he lowers himself back into his seat, folding his hands on his desk.

  “Now Ms. Talbot, what can I do for you?”

  THIRTY

  She’s my Polaris—my North Star—my home.

  Leelo

  I’m sure the disbelief is plastered all over my face.

  I’ve been chasing after him for over a week, his office telling me he’s out, or in meetings. Almost daily messages that went completely unanswered and the latest out-of-town excuse that turns out to be untrue.

  You’d fucking think it should be clear by now what he can do for me.

  I have to grab a firm hold of the temper I’m in danger of losing before I answer.

  “As I mentioned in my voicemails and the messages I left with your staff, I would like the copies of the original drawings for the Whitefish, I understand you have on file here.”

  “Ah, yes, that’s right. You’ll have to forgive me; it’s been incredibly busy. It’s true, it’s not unheard of that we sometimes keep copies of blueprints on hand for our clients in our archives. I believe my assistant, Rebecca, had an intern look, I simply haven’t had the time, but I don’t think they had much luck. Let me check.” Before I have a chance to say anything, he pushes a button on the phone on his desk and his assistant’s voice comes through.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, those plans for the Whitefish, any l
uck finding them?”

  “Uh...I don’t believe so, sir.”

  “That’s unfortunate, I suggest you have look yourself next week, Rebecca. I’m sure they’re there.”

  “Of course, sir. Will that be all?”

  Without even responding, Henry ends the call, rests his elbows on the table, and tents his hands, tapping his fingertips together as if he’s thinking hard about something.

  “You know,” he says to me. “It is always possible that they have copies at the municipal building. I know Sam applied for a few permits over the years, he may have been asked to supply them.”

  I was just at the fucking municipal building.

  Frustrated, I get up and grab my purse.

  “That information would have been handy last week, Henry,” I point out. “Could’ve saved us both some time.”

  “Yes, I wish I’d thought of it sooner. Talking about time,” he says, looking at his watch. “I have a meeting in a few minutes I need to get ready for.”

  “That’s okay, I was leaving. I’m heading straight over to the municipal building.” I’m already halfway out the door when his voice stops me.

  “I’m afraid they’re closed as of five minutes ago,” he says, tapping his watch. “Summer hours; they close at one on Fridays.”

  -

  My day didn’t get much better from there.

  By the time I got back to the Jeep, I found my frozen yoghurt melted all over the back seat and my air conditioning stopped working on the way to the lodge. There I found a present left on Roar’s bed when I went to lay down to fight off a headache, after putting away the groceries and cleaning the car seat. Apparently, Ace had managed to sneak a rabbit inside the house and chose the master bedroom to pull the poor little creature apart and left its carcass on the bed.

  “He does that sometimes, when Roar stays away for longer periods,” Patti explained, while helping me change the bedding.

  It was three before I finally got the nap I was craving, and by that time, my head was one big throbbing mass, so it took me a while to get to sleep.

  “Mom?”

  I peel my eyes open to find Matt leaning over me.

  “What time is it?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my face. Fortunately the earlier sharp headache was now just a dull nag, feeling more like a heavy fog.

  “Seven,” he says and I shoot upright in bed. I’ve slept away the whole damn afternoon.

  “Gwen?”

  “On her way. She’s just south of Wawa.” He sits down on the edge of the bed. “Mom,” he starts. “She said there’s a lot of smoke coming across the highway a few kilometres south of the airport. She said she could smell the fire.”

  “Jesus.” I knew when Roar left it could be dangerous for him, but hearing this makes it so much more real. Scarier.

  “I know, Mom. Gwen does too, I told her when she called yesterday where he was. That’s why she called, she was concerned.”

  I swing my legs over the side of the bed and run my hands through my hair, trying to get rid of the last threads of sleep clouding my thoughts.

  “I have to call the station.”

  “Just did,” my son says, gently smiling. “Was told the crew is fine. Apparently, the wind started to shift, and the smoke that was blowing mostly south before is now being reported blowing in more northerly direction. The woman at the station promised if there was anything to report, she has all our numbers.”

  I’m relieved the guys are good, but I don’t like the sound of the shifting wind. If smoke is now traveling north, that means the fire likely is too, in our direction.

  “Thanks, Mattie,” I tell him, pressing a kiss on his forehead before I head to the bathroom to freshen up. By the time I come out, the bedroom is empty but I can hear voices coming from downstairs. Sounds like Gwen arrived.

  “Sweetie...” Her head snaps up at the sound of my voice, and for a moment I see my little girl, happy to see me, before her carefully cultivated mask slips back into place.

  “Hey, Mom,” she says, allowing me to crush her in my arms, but reluctantly so.

  “How was your drive?” I ask when I finally let her go.

  “Long, and I’m starving.”

  I smile at the hint of drama in her voice, for all her level-headed maturity and drive, she still can have those moments of teenage theatrics. Except now I don’t cringe at them, I embrace them, treasuring anything and everything I get from my kids. Even if it’s attitude.

  “Why don’t you let Matt show you around, while I whip something up for dinner?” I suggest.

  “Actually, Patti cooked chili while you were sleeping,” Matt says, with an almost apologetic shrug. “It’s good too, I already had some.”

  It’s odd, where not that long ago I was upset to find Patti cooking in Roar’s kitchen, this time I just feel grateful.

  “Hope you left some for us,” Gwen says, thumping her brother in the shoulder. He reacts by putting her in a headlock and ruffling her nicely styled hair. “Asswipe,” she swears at him, but he just laughs as he lets her push him off. “By the way, who is Patti?” she wants to know as she hooks her arm in his and allows herself to be dragged into the kitchen.

  I barely hear his answer as I follow behind, a big grin on my face.

  Dinner is a casual affair at the kitchen table and I enjoy the kids ribbing each other. They used to be best buddies when they were young, but adolescence put an end to that quickly. Now, both more mature with adult problems and responsibilities, they seem to be finding each other again and that brings tears of gratitude to my eyes. Despite the many screw-ups on their parents’ part, our kids are fucking awesome.

  “What breed is this anyway?” Gwen says, watching as Ace follows me outside, a tray with cups and a teapot in my hands.

  If he’s looking for handouts, he’ll be disappointed. He’s still in the doghouse.

  “I think Roar said something about part timber wolf, part hound? Not sure,” Matt says, already camped out on one of the rockers on the porch.

  “Wow,” my girl says, getting her first glimpse of the night sky up here. “I’d forgotten how many stars there really are.”

  “Beautiful, right?” I offer, as I pour us all some tea.

  “Mmmm,” she hums noncommittally, but the little smile on her face when she takes the mug from my hand says enough.

  “Apparently, it’s not unusual to see the aurora borealis up here when the conditions are right,” Matt pipes up. “It’s supposed to be better from the lake, if you take a boat a bit further north. Roar says a lot of the land there remains untouched because there is little access, except over the water.”

  “Cool.” Gwen shrugs. “You should take me out there this week.”

  “Need to buy a boat first,” my son announces, a fat grin on his face.

  “Maybe you can borrow one of Mom’s boyfriend’s?”

  It takes me a minute to catch on to Gwen’s reference, because my mind is still stuck on what she said before.

  “You’re staying here the whole week?” I ask, doing my best not to sound too frigging excited and failing miserably.

  “I thought you got that when I said I had a week off and was driving up.” I ignore the sharp edge to her voice, the way it gets when she’s irritated.

  “Yes, I did hear that, but I’ve learned not to make assumptions. You could’ve planned to stay just for the weekend before heading somewhere else,” I point out calmly. “Regardless, I’m excited you will spend your whole week here.”

  Gwen looks intently out at the night sky, visibly focused on something else.

  “Can you smell that?” she says, and I immediately sniff the air.

  “Smoke,” Matt says before I have a chance.

  Roar

  Five more hours.

  I heave the last piece of the tree stump I just dug up onto the dump truck that will remove it. Looking back down the gully I’m standing in, I can see how much work we’ve accomplished today. Good thing too, since with the shifti
ng winds, I can feel the heat from the fire pushing in this direction.

  Five more hours, of cutting up some of the larger tree trunks and stumps into more manageable pieces before clearing them out, left in my sixteen-hour shift. I am so far beyond the point of exhaustion, I can’t even tell you if I’m hurting or not. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that this stupid firebreak we’ve been working on, for God knows how many days, may be the only thing between this angry fire and my home—my loved ones.

  There is progress though, and a plan of action that might actually work, by using the power of nature against itself.

  Winds are supposed to pick up during the course of the day tomorrow, assisting the crews to the south in driving the fire in this direction. A backfire will be lit along the south side of the clearing we created to burn out the fuel in front of the fire. North of the break, crews will be stationed to control any flare-ups, and waterbombers will dump their loads along the south, east, and west sides of the fire. Crews coming in behind will put down any remaining flames so it doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

  It’s a perfect plan, provided the execution is flawless and there is no change in conditions. The only thing in the equation that is controllable is the execution, and because of that, I am ignoring the soot and the dirt coating my hair and skin, the stench of sweat and smoke I can’t get out of my nostrils, and the toll my body is taking.

  Five more hours and I will hoist my tired, filthy body to my truck parked two kilometres from base camp, and I will not stop until I can wish my girl happy birthday.

  Leelo

  “You guys.” I smile when both kids barge into the bedroom, singing “Happy Birthday” and carrying a tray with breakfast.

  I can’t remember the last time I had breakfast in bed. Maybe some Mother’s Day, when the kids were little.

  “You know that’s way too much for me, right?” I point out, looking at the stacks of pancakes and entire plate of bacon.