That Night on Thistle Lane

by Carla Neggers

  But Maggie heard the note of worry in her mother’s voice. They promised to keep each other updated.

  “Stay at the mill,” her mother said. “Promise me, Maggie.”

  The phone went dead.

  Maggie cradled the receiver and went into the outer room. She could see wind whipping through the trees on the other side of the pond. Small limbs fell into the water. The ground was quickly littered with leaves and twigs.

  Then came the hail.

  Olivia and Dylan held hands. Maggie wrapped her arms around her middle and watched the pebble-size hail hit the walk and the rock walls. It pelted into the brook and collected on the grass.

  She jumped at a simultaneous flash of lightning and crack of thunder.

  “It’s just the edge of the storm,” Dylan said.

  Maggie insisted he hand her his iPhone. The local weather radar was still up on the screen. Reds, yellows, purples. It was a dangerous, severe thunderstorm, and if it stayed on course, Knights Bridge center was taking a direct hit.

  Maggie’s stomach lurched. She bolted for the door but Dylan grabbed her. “I have to get to the library,” she said. “The boys—Phoebe.”

  “Phoebe knows what to do in a storm,” Olivia said, white-faced.

  “If she knows it’s this bad...”

  “We wait this out,” Dylan said. “Then we go.”

  * * *

  “Aunt Phoebe! Aunt Phoebe!”

  “I’m here,” she said, sitting up, wincing in pain. It was Aidan screaming her name. She tried to keep from moaning and further scaring her nephews. “It’s okay...”

  “Listen,” Tyler told his younger brother, his tone reassuring. “You hear the sirens? Uncle Chris will get us out.”

  They were alone in the library attic. They’d lost power but that was the least of their troubles. Despite the heat, Tyler and Aidan had wanted to see the attic and Phoebe’s secret room. They didn’t care about sewing, but someone had mentioned there were ghosts in the attic. Phoebe told them about the antique marbles she’d found, and they’d charged up the stairs ahead of her.

  What harm was there in a spooky little adventure on a hot summer afternoon?

  She’d been right behind them on the back stairs when she noticed the threatening sky, the greenish light in the window on the second-floor landing. She’d grabbed the boys and started downstairs to get to an interior room, but the storm hit suddenly. A fierce wind gust uprooted a sugar maple and sent it into the library. Branches broke the window on the landing below them, just missing them and blocking their route back downstairs.

  She all but threw the boys up to the attic. They took cover in Daphne Stewart’s windowless sewing room. Hail pounded on the roof. Wind howled and whistled. The tiny room seemed to rattle with the booming thunder.

  Phoebe had held on to her nephews, shielding them in case part of the roof blew off.

  The storm finally passed, and now it was quiet except for the sirens.

  “I need to let someone know where we are,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “That we’re safe.”

  “We’re not safe,” Tyler said, the pragmatic Sloan.

  Aidan sucked in a breath and pointed at her. “Aunt Phoebe...you’re bleeding.”

  She saw that she was, in fact, bleeding from a cut on her left arm. She didn’t remember being hurt, hadn’t felt any pain until now. She took in a shallow breath. “It’s not bad. Are you boys okay? Let me look at you.”

  “We’re fine.” Tyler stood up. “I’m going to yell out a window.”

  “You won’t be able to open any of the windows up here,” Phoebe said.

  “We can throw a brick and break the glass,” Aidan said.

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “Where are we going to get a brick?”

  “Then use something else,” his brother said, impatient, scared.

  Phoebe struggled to her feet. “I’ll do it,” she said. “You two stay right there where I can see you and don’t move. Understood? Don’t move.”

  As she crept to the corner door, she heard a creaking sound in the tiny room. A ghost after all, maybe. She opened the door, felt blood drip into her eyes. A cut on her scalp, too? At least the blood hadn’t reached her face and the boys hadn’t seen it.

  She saw Christopher Sloan down on South Main, yelling past two uprooted trees to someone out of view. Olivia was there with her father, a volunteer firefighter, and Dylan. No Noah. Then she saw Maggie, looking stricken as she approached her brother-in-law, picking her way through fallen limbs and scattered leaves.

  Phoebe tried to open the window, but she couldn’t get it to budge. What was wrong with her? Her head was spinning, aching. Her arm stung from the cut.

  She glanced back at her nephews with a quick smile. “Everything’s fine. We just have to give your Uncle Chris time to get up here.”

  “Because of the broken glass,” Aidan said.

  “And the tree in the way,” Tyler added sarcastically. Phoebe saw that his toughness was a pretense, his own eyes wide with fear.

  “Aidan! Tyler!”

  Brandon. Of course. He was close, probably by the freestanding closets.

  “We’re in here,” Phoebe called. “We’re okay.”

  “Aunt Phoebe’s not okay,” Tyler yelled.

  Brandon burst into the sewing room. “Aunt Phoebe saved us,” Aidan said, sobbing as his father scooped him up.

  Her brother-in-law looked straight at her. “Sit, Phoebe.”

  “I’m fine—”

  “You’re not fine. Sit.”

  Then Noah swept in behind him. “Phoebe.” He seemed hardly able to speak. “I know a bit about cuts.”

  “From your fencing,” Phoebe said, then clutched his arm, steadying herself. “Oh, hell, Noah. Damn. I think I’m going to faint.”

  “Then you’re right where you need to be.”

  And she knew she was, even as she passed out in his arms.

  Twenty-Two

  Noah stood on Thistle Lane thirty yards from an ambulance as Phoebe reassured the crew that she was just fine. He’d hated to leave her but all eyes were on her. She’d regained consciousness almost immediately after she’d passed out, probably as much from heat and dehydration as anything else. She’d refused to wait for a stretcher. After firefighters had cleared the tree out of the way, she’d walked down from the attic on her own, Noah at her side.

  “Phoebe’s right,” Dylan said, approaching Noah. “She will be fine. Her cuts are superficial. She doesn’t even need stitches.”

  “You should know. You got cut in hockey all the time.”

  “Regularly. Not all the time.”

  They both grinned, but Noah could still feel the after-effects of the adrenaline rush. He and Brandon Sloan had arrived in the village center minutes after high winds had blown down trees and wires, ripped off parts of roofs. Brandon managed to park his truck on South Main, and he and Noah jumped into action, charging into the damaged library.

  For a terrifying minute, they’d thought Phoebe and the Sloan boys were under the debris on the stairs.

  Noah shook off the memory. Olivia was with Phoebe. Police and firefighters had cordoned off the library’s side yard where two trees had come down in what they believed was a microburst.

  Maggie paced on the narrow lane as Tyler and Aidan told their story to their firefighter uncle.

  “She’s blazing,” Dylan said.

  She certainly was, Noah thought. “She’s had a fright.”

  “She needs to vent,” Brandon said as he joined them. “She can cater a dinner for seventy-five people without breaking a sweat, but this is different. It’s her kids. The boys are good, though. All’s well that ends well.”

  Noah had entered the library with Brandon and knew how terrified he’d been for his sons, and for his sister-in-law.

  Maggie stalked over to him, hands on her hips, some color returning to her cheeks. “Why didn’t you wait for the firefighters?” she asked as if in midthought.

  “Noah and
I were right there, Maggie,” Brandon said. “What were we supposed to do, twiddle our thumbs?”

  She ignored him and glared at Noah. “You, too. You both had to go tearing into the library on your own.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond and spun back to her husband. “What if that tree had dislodged and fallen on you? Phoebe and the boys were safe.”

  “We wouldn’t have gone up if it wasn’t safe,” Brandon said.

  “You would have.”

  “I’ve worked construction since I could pick up a hammer. I knew it was safe. I didn’t know Phoebe and the boys were okay.” His tone was patient, unwavering. “We had a good angle. We got through. Coming back down with Phoebe and the boys was risky, so we waited for the firefighters.”

  “Phoebe had everything under control.” Maggie blinked back tears. “But if she and Tyler and Aidan had gone up those stairs thirty seconds later, and that tree, the window...”

  “They’d have been in a world of hurt,” Brandon said bluntly. “Lucky that didn’t happen. Don’t think about what could have happened, Maggie. Think about what did happen.”

  She nodded, calmer. Her sons edged toward their parents. Brandon slung an arm over Aidan’s small shoulders. “Aunt Phoebe protected us,” the boy said.

  Tyler nodded. “It was a scary storm.”

  “We don’t get many storms like that,” Maggie said, reassuring them despite her own lingering fear.

  Tyler kicked a small stone in the lane, then looked up at the adults, his eyes still wide. “Aunt Phoebe said we just had to wait for someone to come get us. We were trapped, weren’t we?”

  Brandon pointed at the fallen tree. “The storm took down that tree. It was blocking the stairs. It wasn’t even close to you guys in the attic. You can see that from here, can’t you, Tyler?”

  “Yeah,” the boy said.

  Next to him, his younger brother took his father’s hand. “I wasn’t scared, Dad.”

  “It’s okay to be scared. We all get scared.” Brandon looked straight at his wife. “It’s what we do when we’re scared that matters.”

  “Aunt Phoebe is brave,” Aidan said.

  Brandon nodded. “She did the right thing today.”

  Maggie looked at Noah. “That’s Phoebe. It’s who she is. She always tries to do the right thing, for all of us.”

  It would be like that, Noah knew. The O’Dunn sisters would stick together. An attack on one—even a perceived attack—was an attack on all four. Most of the time, their solidarity was probably a positive for all of them. He glanced at the ambulance. Phoebe was back on her feet, her arm bandaged as she stood next to Olivia. She looked steady, her hair shining in what was now a clear, cool afternoon. He wondered how much freedom she had to do what she wanted and not just what her family wanted, or what she thought they wanted.

  Elly O’Dunn arrived with Ava and Ruby, and Brandon and Maggie and their sons joined them at the ambulance. Phoebe smiled at her family. Noah knew that it’d be her instinct to reassure them.

  Dylan sighed. “Damn. That was too close for comfort.”

  “As Brandon says, all’s well that ends well,” Noah said. “Phoebe and the Sloan boys are in good shape. The damage to the library is repairable.”

  “What about you, Noah?” his friend asked him. “You got to be a swashbuckler without having to stab anyone. Feeling pretty good?”

  “You were annoying in kindergarten, too, Dylan,” Noah said with a grin. “I don’t know how we’ve stayed friends.”

  “We didn’t do the same things. You’re a swordfighter and I’m a hockey player. You’re good at math and I’m not.” Dylan paused, his gaze on Phoebe and Olivia. “You and Phoebe do different things, too.”

  “No kidding,” Noah muttered.

  “It’s good. You get bored easily. In fact, you’re a pain in the ass when you’re bored.” Dylan looked more relaxed than when he’d arrived at the library. “Brandon Sloan’s a natural to work in adventure travel. He could do it on the side and still keep up with his construction work.”

  Noah nodded. “You could use the help.”

  “I thought this adventure travel initiative might burn out fast, but it’s not going to. It’s already taking off and we’re not even fully set up yet.”

  Noah wasn’t surprised. With Duncan McCaffrey’s treasure hunting background and Dylan’s interests and contacts, adventure travel was a perfect next step for him. But it wouldn’t be the only one. After four years of hyperfocusing on NAK, he was as ready to explore multiple interests as Noah was.

  “Maggie and Olivia are on their way to becoming full business partners,” Dylan added. “Maggie’s taking over more of the day-to-day running of Carriage Hill. She loves it and she’s good at it. Olivia loves the design work, planning, coming up with new ideas.”

  “Finding old pillowcases,” Noah added with a smile.

  “And soap making. They’re having a great time.”

  Noah could get used to mosquitoes, and he could learn to love small-town life and hiking in the woods, but he wasn’t going to get into making soap. He suspected Dylan was of a like mind.

  “NAK’s a success,” Noah said. “It’s in good hands, but we’re not done.”

  Across South Main, people were gathering to check out the damage from the storm. The Civil War monument was intact, the stone Union soldier standing tall amid several downed trees. Several of the buildings on South Main had sustained damage. Across the common, the Knights Bridge Country Store was untouched.

  Except for Phoebe’s cuts, there’d been no injuries. Noah watched her kneel down at eye level with her young nephews as she spoke to them. After their scare, they’d need reassurance.

  “We’re friends, Noah,” Dylan said next to him. “That’s not changing, whatever comes next.”

  He meant Phoebe, Noah knew.

  She stood, Tyler and Aidan laughing now. Everyone looked more at ease. Noah felt his throat tighten. “I’m as sure about Phoebe as I’ve ever been about anything.”

  “I know,” Dylan said.

  “That obvious?”

  “It is to me.”

  “Phoebe and I need time together, but it won’t change how sure I am.” Noah went very still, a cool, gentle breeze blowing now. “I know it won’t.”

  Dylan didn’t argue with him.

  Olivia broke off from the Sloans and O’Dunns and Dylan met her on the corner of South Main and Thistle Lane. He put his arm around her as if he’d known her forever. Noah glanced at the library. Brandon had said he thought it would reopen quickly, within a few days, although the damage would take longer to repair. Would Phoebe lead that effort as library director?

  She hugged her mother, then left her family and walked toward him. He wanted to go to her but waited for her to reach him.

  “Thank you, Noah,” she said, stopping next to a small downed tree limb. “I’ve never passed out before.”

  “You’re sure you don’t need to get checked out at the hospital?”

  “I’m sure. I’ve been cleared to go home. My mother wants us all to come out to her place for hamburgers and hot dogs.” Phoebe smiled, added, “And tomatoes, of course.”

  “Fresh from the garden,” Noah said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Phoebe...” Then as he let his fingertips graze hers, out of view of her family and friends, he heard himself tell her that he was going back to San Diego. “I’m not a guy from Knights Bridge. I never will be. That’s a statement of fact, Phoebe. It’s not an apology.”

  Her turquoise eyes widened but she didn’t speak.

  “When we saw each other that night in Boston, it was like having a flash grenade go off in our lives. It changed everything. I had it happen when NAK took off and turned me into a very wealthy man.” He resisted an urge to touch her hair, her lips. “You need time, Phoebe. I’m giving it to you.”

  If she said anything as he left, he didn’t hear it. He waved a hand at Dylan, who immediately joined him on South Main. “Noah, what’s
going on?”

  “I need a ride to the airport.”

  “You’re going back to San Diego?”

  “Tonight.”

  “For how long?”

  Noah glanced back at Phoebe, walking alone down Thistle Lane. “For as long as it takes.”

  * * *

  Word got out that Noah Kendrick had left Knights Bridge for the second time in less than a week. Phoebe was pouring wine when Maggie, Ava, Ruby and Olivia descended on Thistle Lane to take her to her mother’s house. Brandon was already there with Tyler and Aidan.

  Maggie, looking emotionally ragged, took the wine bottle out of Phoebe’s hands. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind, Phoebe? It’s bad enough I’ve screwed up everything with Brandon, but you can’t screw up things with Noah because you’re afraid of not being there for us, for Mom, for Knights Bridge. You just can’t. I won’t let you.”

  Ava glanced at her watch. “Noah doesn’t have that much of a head start. You have time to get to the airport before his plane takes off.”

  “You’re assuming I was invited,” Phoebe said.

  Her sisters groaned in unison. “Who cares? Go!”

  “I’ll drive you,” Olivia said. “If we’re wrong and he doesn’t want you on his plane, I’ll drive you back here—”

  “And we’ll drink a case of his wine,” Maggie said.

  “It’s a risk but not a crazy risk,” Ruby said. “He wants you to take it. He wants to prove he’s not too much for you. Too rich, too California, too smart, too—you know. Too everything.”

  “And he needs to know you’re falling in love with him,” Maggie added quietly. “He needs to know he has something to offer you.”

  Phoebe took a breath. “Something to offer me?”

  “You have everything you need right here in Knights Bridge,” Olivia said. “Your family, your job, your friends.”

  But not Noah, Phoebe thought. She didn’t tell her sisters and friend that even before the storm—fainting into Noah’s arms—she’d drafted her letter of resignation from the library, just to get a feel for what it might be like to try something new. She could volunteer. She could get into adventure travel, work on Carriage Hill soaps, learn about venture capital and serial entrepreneurs. She could read books and chase toddlers.