Aunt Dimity Goes West

by Nancy Atherton

“Thanks, Jeff,” said Toby. “Fire service on its way?”

  “You bet,” said the sheriff. “Got ’em coming in from as far away as Boulder.”

  “Can we ride in your police car?” Will asked, rubbing his cheek against his buffalo.

  “With the siren?” Rob added hopefully.

  “Maybe another time, boys,” the sheriff said kindly. “Right now I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  He put two fingers to his brow in a casual salute, then pulled over to park in front of Dick Major’s house. As we continued to trudge up Lake Street, I wondered what he’d make of the place once he stepped through the front door.

  I also wondered what Amanda Barrow would do when she realized how accurately she’d predicted the night’s tumultuous events. She’d told me in her shop that Death would come for me again, and he had. She’d told me I risked all by sleeping beneath the eagle’s wings, and she’d been right. She’d stood before the playroom tent, warning of darkness, flames, and a hate-filled heart seeking to destroy, and in no time at all, I’d encountered the darkness of the mine shaft, the flames on the mountainside, and a man so filled with hatred that he was willing to kill innocent women and children in his insane bid for revenge.

  What would Amanda do when she discovered she’d been right from start to finish? I wondered. As we walked up Stafford Avenue toward Caroline’s Cafe, I shuddered to think of Amanda Barrow camping out on the Aerie’s doorstep, babbling nonstop about the great beyond, and hoped with all my heart that I’d be back in England long before she realized how truly gifted she was.

  Carrie Vyne was in the cafe, preparing food and drink for the swarm of firefighters who would soon descend on Bluebird. She welcomed us with open arms, took us to the vacant guest cabin, put sheets and blankets on the beds, lit a fire in the living room fireplace, and brought sandwiches and a thermos of hot chocolate out to us from the cafe.

  Carrie also brought bandages, antibiotic ointment, and arnica cream for Annelise’s feet. My intrepid nanny hadn’t bothered to don bedroom slippers when my frantic call to action had startled her from sleep. She’d been so intent on saving my sons’ lives that she’d run all the way from the Aerie to Bluebird barefoot. I wanted to pin a great big shiny medal on her nightgown, but since medals were in short supply, I simply tended to her cuts and bruises and helped her hobble to her bed.

  “You’re a bona fide heroine,” I said as I smoothed her blankets.

  “It’s all in a day’s work,” she replied, smiling.

  I hugged her, turned out the light, and joined the boys and Toby, who’d gathered around the fireplace to drink hot chocolate. Despite the fact that they had bunk beds in their bedroom, Rob and Will fell asleep curled up in blankets on the floor while Toby and I watched a seemingly endless stream of emergency vehicles speed through the streets of Bluebird.

  “I have to go back to the Aerie,” I said quietly, after the boys had fallen asleep. “Tonight.”

  “The road will be blocked off,” Toby warned.

  “I don’t need to take the road,” I said. “Will you stay here with the twins?”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them,” he promised. “I hadn’t planned on getting any sleep tonight anyway.”

  It took me less than an hour to hike to the Aerie, tuck a few necessary and two irreplaceable items into my carry-on bag, and return to the guest cabin. Toby was still awake when I got back, so I put the carry-on bag in my bedroom and sat up with him through the night. We didn’t say much, though he did compliment me on my record-breaking uphill dash.

  “You carried Will in your arms all the way to the edge of the clearing, too,” he reminded me. “You were too weak to lift him out of the van a week ago.”

  “It’s amazing what you can do when your children are in danger,” I told him. “You’ll find out one day, when you’re a father. You’ll give your life for your kids, one way or another.”

  I touched a hand to the scar on my shoulder, then turned to watch the burning mountain.

  Epilogue

  It took three days to put the fire out. By then it had burned a hundred acres, turning majestic trees into charred matchsticks, but thanks to the firefighters’ skill and the recent heavy rain, it spread no farther and the Aerie was untouched. We moved back the day before Bill arrived, and although he could stay for only a week, the rest of us stayed there until the end of August, when Toby returned to college.

  When news of the fire reached Danny Auerbach, he came to Bluebird to check on his property. While he was in town, I took him to Caroline’s Cafe for lunch and a long talk, at the end of which he decided to have a still longer talk with his wife and daughter, take his beloved tree house off the market, and build a small cabin for James and Janice Blackwell and their child. He also decided to plug the mine entrance Toby and I had used, before his sons discovered it.

  The Blackwells—with their healthy baby girl—moved into their cabin two months after Toby left. James resumed his caretaker’s duties as if there’d been no interruption, and the Auerbachs are once again staying at the Aerie every chance they get.

  Will and Rob spent much of the summer at the Brockman Ranch, though Toby coaxed them away every now and then to hike, fish, and hunt for fossils. When he offered to teach them how to pan for gold, however, I put my foot down. Gold fever was a nasty bug. I didn’t want my sons to be bitten by it.

  Maggie Flaxton bullied me into selling raffle tickets during Gold Rush Days, but Bill adamantly refused to participate in Nick Altman’s beer-tasting contest. He wasn’t as impressed as I was by Bluebird’s doppelgangers, but he’d learned through hard experience to avoid anything that was both homemade and alcoholic.

  I put an end to Amanda Barrow’s visits to the Aerie by telling her straight out that I held long conversations every night with a magic book that talked back to me. She accused me of mocking her and never darkened my doorway again.

  Dick Major followed in his infamous ancestor’s footsteps when he entered a high-security prison for the criminally insane. Once there, he began to call himself Ludo Magerowski and to curse everyone who tried to help him. His house on Lake Street was demolished before the year was out and the rubble it contained was put to good use by the highway department.

  Toby and I made one more foray into the Lord Stuart mine shafts that summer. On a hot and sunny day in early August, Toby used his local knowledge and a photocopyof Dick Major’s hand-drawn map to help me find the cave-in that had killed Cyril Pennyfeather. I knelt at the spot to fill a plastic bag with handfuls of dust.

  I took the dust to the cemetery the next day and sprinkled it on Hannah Lavery’s grave. There must have been something of Cyril mixed in with it, because I never heard from him again.

  “Do you miss Cyril?” I asked Dimity on our last night at the Aerie.

  I do, but I’m not sorry he’s gone. He fulfilled his purpose. It was time for him to move on.

  “What purpose?” I asked.

  I believe that Mr. Pennyfeather remained in the Aerie in order to save more lives, and he tried his best to do so. Do you remember? He warned us that someone had reopened the Lord Stuart Mine. We thought he was referring to James Blackwell at the time, but he was, in fact, speaking of Dick Major. If we hadn’t jumped to the wrong conclusion, we would have heeded Mr. Pennyfeather’s warning and thwarted Dick Major’s plot.

  “I never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d admit that you’d jumped to a conclusion,” I said, grinning.

  There’s a first time for everything. And I am sincerely happy for Mr. Pennyfeather. Having fulfilled his purpose, he has continued his journey and rejoined the woman he loves. He’s earned the right to rest in peace.

  “Have you ever thought of continuing your own journey, Dimity?” I asked.

  You’re part of my journey, Lori. I don’t mind putting the rest of it on hold. I have all of eternity at my disposal.

  “Do you think I’ll spend the rest of my life rescuing my children from homicidal mani
acs?” I asked wistfully.

  I imagine you’ll have a few hours to spare for knitting socks and baking cookies. But if a situation arises that requires you to save your children’s lives, you will. It’s what mothers do. Besides, you’ve made progress—you came away from your latest feat of derring-do unscathed.

  “Annelise didn’t,” I said. “Her feet are still sore. And Toby nearly broke his hand punching Dick Major, but he enjoyed it so much that I don’t think he feels scathed.”

  Toby Cooper is a remarkable young man.

  “I tried to thank him today, Dimity, but I just got all teary-eyed,” I said. “He looked as embarrassed as if I’d spit up on his shoes.”

  I’m sure he was embarrassed because he, too, was choked up. You, Annelise, Will, and Rob have been his family for several months. He’ll miss you.

  “I’ve invited him to visit us in England,” I said. “We may not have rattlesnakes, dust storms, or snow in July, but we have pretty good thunderstorms. I hope he comes.”

  As do I. You haven’t mentioned your shoulder lately, my dear. Is it still troubling you?

  “My shoulder is completely healed,” I said. “If the scar wasn’t there, you’d never known I’d been shot. I’m happy to report that I have my brain to myself again, too. Abaddon has finally moved out.”

  On the whole, your visit to America has been most satisfactory.

  “No one in Finch will believe it,” I said. “When they think of America, they think of vulgarity and violence. To be honest, I did, too, but I don’t anymore. With the truly gigantic exception of Dick Major, everyone I’ve met has been cheerful, helpful, and kind.”

  Including Maggie Flaxton?

  “I may not be Maggie’s biggest fan,” I said, laughing, “but women like her make the world go round.”

  They do indeed. Will you miss Bluebird?

  “I’ll miss the Rocky Mountains,” I acknowledged. “I’ll miss the blue sky and the crisp air and the snowcapped peaks. I’ll miss the wildflowers and the aspens, the mule deer and the buffalo.”

  But will you miss Bluebird?

  I leaned back in the white armchair and gazed into the fire. I thought of gossip and Calico Cookies and scones. I thought of a place rich in history and blessed with great natural beauty. I thought of good people doing their best to keep their small town alive, and as always, my thoughts came around again to Finch. Bill might not see the similarities, Annelise might ignore them, and Aunt Dimity might discount them, but I knew what home felt like when I found it.

  “No, I won’t miss Bluebird,” I said, smiling. “After all, I’m not really leaving it behind.”

  Carrie Vyne’s Calico Cookies

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

  Makes about 5 dozen cookies.

  Ingredients

  1 cup (2 sticks) butter

  1/3 cup white sugar

  1/3 cup brown sugar

  2 eggs

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  1 teaspoon almond extract

  1 ½ cups all-purpose flour

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon ginger

  pinch of salt

  2½ cups oatmeal

  ½ cup each: chocolate chips, dried cranberries, sliced almonds, toffee bits.

  May also use raisins, butterscotch morsels, peanut butter pieces, or white chocolate chips.

  Mix and match to your heart’s content!

  Cream butter with sugars. Add eggs, vanilla, and almond extracts. Beat well. Add flour mixed with baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, and salt. Fold in oatmeal and beat well. Fold in the nuts, chips, and bits; mix well. Place teaspoon-sized rounds of dough on foil-lined cookie sheets. Bake 7–8 minutes. Freezes well.