by Oram, Jean
Gratitude began to build all warm and fuzzy in her chest until she realized how screwed she must be if a lawyer was seeking her out in order to offer his services.
“Have you been to court before?” he asked.
She nodded, bad memories flooding her body with a Molotov cocktail of fight or flight chemicals. Her innards spun into a tornado and her legs got that antsy feeling. “It wasn’t a good experience.”
“Well, if they call you in, don’t hesitate to get in touch. That applies for any interviews or court proceedings. Advice. Anything.” John gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and made off down the street.
Mary Alice came up behind Jen, a soft cloud of mint and cigarette smoke smell distinctly hers. “How are you holding in there, hon?”
Jen whirled, just about stepping on Mary Alice’s dog.
Mary Alice gave her a kind look.
Oh no. No way was she going to let Mary Alice sweet-talk her into dishing the gossip.
“Oh, you know,” Jen said, trying to be perky. She dashed into Mandy’s place, realizing Mary Alice probably did know—and probably a whole lot more than she did. She kept her back to the door as if barring Mary Alice.
“Hey!” Mandy called from behind the counter. She waved a brown bag. “I saw you coming. Need a pick-me-up?”
“If those are your brownies, hell yeah.” She gratefully accepted the bag and slipped enough money on the counter for brownies and a drink. “Can I get a coffee, too?”
Mandy fixed Jen a coffee to go. “Did you hear Benny’s bringing back his chocolate maven pie?” Benny owned the nicest restaurant in town, sort of a date place, and used to have a heavenly chocolate pie on his menu, but had recently removed it in an effort to make his meal choices a little easier on the waistline.
“Enough of us must have complained finally.” Jen peeked in the bag of brownies and wondered if she had time to slip over to Benny’s and get a slice of pie as well. It was one of those days where a chocolate overload would hit the spot.
Mandy slid a large coffee to Jen. “On the house. And in case you’re wondering, John was great. You should totally hire him—if you end up needing a lawyer, of course.”
Jen inhaled, willing herself not to snap at Mandy. How was it that everyone seemed to know more about her life than she did? She was the one in charge, not Blueberry nosy-Rosie business-snooping Springs. “I can’t afford him.”
“I’ll ask him to cover you pro bono.”
“He already offered.”
“Then what’s the hitch?”
“Exactly.”
Mandy’s brow crinkled. “What?”
“Never mind.” Why would a lawyer come up, out of the blue, and offer to represent her? There was no benefit to him other than more work on his plate. In other words, what did he get in return? Where was the hitch?
Mandy waved Jen’s money back at her, and Jen ignored it, wagging the bag of brownies as a wave goodbye. “Thanks.”
On the street, Jen took a bite of the largest brownie, her tension easing as the chocolate hit her bloodstream. Heaven. Life after death. Renewed purpose, determination, hope. It was here in this magical hunk of chocolatey goodness.
She slowly jaywalked to Wally’s store, freezing as she saw a familiar figure move toward her. And no, it wasn’t His Holy Major Hotness coming to beg forgiveness for being on the right side of the law when she wasn’t.
The bastard.
Nope. It was none other than Judge Radcliff. The butt hat of her universe. The very sight of him made the warmth in her body drain into her sandals. The judge had come on her inaugural excursion and had just about guaranteed that she’d never have the courage to lead another. He’d managed to twist his knee twenty-five minutes into a three-hour nature hike and demanded not only a full refund, but that everyone should carry him back to the van and then take him to the hospital. Yeah, it was a regular fun time for everyone. And ever since then he’d give her a glare and add a little limp to his walk whenever their paths crossed. She gripped the bag of brownies for strength and hoped the man had failed to see her. She really wasn’t in the mood for his still-hurt ego today.
The judge drew up beside her as she hit the sidewalk, pausing for dramatic effect, reminding her of a cat with a mouse on its claw, waiting, letting his victim squirm before the onslaught.
Oh, crap. He was going to gun for her today. She could feel it in the way he focused his steely eyes. She barely dared breathe. Could she pretend she hadn’t seen him? Could she slip into Wally’s unnoticed? She cautioned a glance toward the judge and told her legs to run, but they’d grown roots, unable to move. She pulled her brownies and coffee closer to her body.
“How’s business, Jen?” He gave a small smirk.
Jen eyed the door to Wally’s. Only eight feet away. She could dash in there as though she hadn’t seen the judge. Except if she did end up going to court she’d need this man to be harboring less of a grudge.
She cleared her throat and drew herself up, throwing a smile on her face. “Hello, Judge Radcliff. A lovely day for a hike, isn’t it?”
She levelled a gaze, barely daring to breathe. Why did she mention hiking? Wasn’t there something else about him she could have chitchatted about? Like, maybe, whether or not he could cut through steel with his gaze?
His nostrils flared ever so slightly. “I’ve heard from reliable sources that you were the only registered user of the Raspberry Creek Park during the weekend this fire started.”
Jen inhaled through her nose, trying to prevent the street from doing that awkward spin to the right it kept insisting on doing. Her worst fears were taking root—the town was angry with her. There was evidence. It really had been her who had started the fire despite her care, attention, and training. The town was going to turn on her if she didn’t flee first.
Jen swallowed as though her tonsils had swelled to five times their size and turned away, the judge’s voice stopping her.
“This manmade fire is officially out of control.”
She turned back. “I’m sure Scott and his men will put it out.” She gave him a small nod of goodbye.
“It’s endangering the inhabitants of Blueberry Springs.”
She gave him a tight smile, turning away again.
“What did you do out there?” He paused, letting her fears sink in deeper.
You’re just some flatlander who thinks anyone can be a guide. That’s what he’d said on the hike when she’d flustered and floundered, trying to decide what she should do after he’d hurt himself. After taking him to see a doctor she’d been able to take the group out again to finish the hike, but still, there had been a number who’d preferred to get a refund and go home. It had been a hard start to her career as a guide and had landed a nice sized dent in her confidence. A dent she’d just about worked out.
Jen squeezed her cup of coffee, the hot liquid spilling over the top, burning her hand in a painful but welcoming distraction.
She needed to leave. Every second in front of this man was allowing him to edge under her worst fears and worries. She had been ninety-eight percent sure she didn’t start that fire. Now she was about nineteen percent sure, meaning there was a whole lot of room for her confidence-gnawing doubt to take hold.
“It looks as though you might not be buying Wally’s store when he retires after all.”
She whirled to face him with a glare. How did everyone in town seem to know every tiny thing about her? “I am a trained nature guide with many certifications. And…and I have insurance!”
“Does it cover burning down Blueberry Springs?”
Jen drooped. Of course it didn’t. It only covered clients such as the judge so they couldn’t sue her if they got hurt. There was no way her premiums would cover burning down the town.
The judge’s expression turned almost sympathetic and his voice lowered as if giving advice. “There’s already been several hundred-thousand dollars in damages and firefighting costs, Jennifer. You need to proceed with extreme
caution in the coming days.”
She clenched her mouth shut, working to keep her cool.
“Communing with nature. What a joke,” he scoffed, stepping away. “The funny thing is,” he paused, looking to the smoky sky, “you can’t put a price on the trust of your fellow citizens. Or your reputation as a guide.”
“I took every precaution in putting out that fire,” she snapped. If her hands hadn’t been full, she would have poked him in the chest she was so angry. “I didn’t have to register to use the park that weekend. I could have done like twenty percent of the population does and just gone for it. Don’t you think it’s more likely that an unregistered user started that fire? Someone who doesn’t follow rules? Someone who starts a campfire without a proper fire pit?” Her hands shook and her voice trembled. “I put that campfire out by the book. I was more than careful; I was anal retentive. I double stacked my fire pit with rocks. I hauled extra water from the creek to put it out. I stirred my wet ashes. The clearing is bare with no overhanging tress, and the ground wasn’t dry enough for underground fires.”
She tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. All these people. Their houses. Their businesses. Their everything. This beautiful town that had saved her…
She had to prove she didn’t start that damn fire. And she needed to do it now.
“It wasn’t me who started that fire.” Her voice quavered, and she hated herself for appearing weak and vulnerable.
“I’m sure justice will be served,” he called out as she walked away.
* * *
Jen’s heart did a lopsided gallop as she hurried across Wally’s store. If someone could guarantee she’d never see Judge Radcliff ever again she’d do a little jig on Main Street for all to see.
She focused on the window that looked into the staffroom—an area that was actually just a fat hallway between the store and Wally’s small office. A few more steps and she’d be in the room’s safety. A few more steps and she could curl up with chocolate and caffeine. The only thing that could make it even more soothing would be a splash of rum and the latest edition of Backpacker.
“Jen,” Liz called, appearing from behind a paddle rack.
Jen jumped, squeezing her to-go cup, sloshing more coffee out the lid. Served her right for not using her reusable insulated cup. She was going to have nothing left by the time she got to the staffroom.
Liz was the town’s second in command on the gossip circuit, losing out the number one position to her older sister, Mary Alice. While Liz may have heard it all through the newspaper and law firm where she worked, Mary Alice saw it all run through her convenience store and wasn’t bound by confidentiality, giving her a leg up over her sister.
“Saw you had a little chitchat with that jerk Radcliff,” Liz said sympathetically. “His butt must be jealous of the amount of crap that comes out his mouth.”
Jen sprayed her sip of coffee across the alley between racks of clothes.
“Like that one, eh?” Liz asked.
Jen gave an approving snort, her eagerness to get away from Liz, and any upcoming digs for gossip, waning.
“I was wondering if I could interview you for the paper?”
“I’m not interested,” Jen said, stepping toward the staffroom.
“I thought you might want to defend your actions.”
“What actions?” Jen called as she continued to ease away.
“Being the only one in the park,” Liz called after her.
Geez. The Blueberry Springs gossip circuit was working overtime on this one. She could practically see her credibility being swept away as they day progressed.
Wishing the staffroom had a door and wasn’t merely blocked off by a postcard rack, she spotted Wally’s open office door at the other end of the space. She tore across the tattered carpet in four big steps, past the two old chairs, TV table holding a coffeemaker, closing Wally’s door in her wake.
“Might not be a bad idea to talk to her,” Wally said from his desk.
Jen flung the brownies in the air and stifled a scream, sloshing coffee all over herself. “Holy hell, Wally. You nearly made me pee my pants!”
Wally gave her a weak smile. “Lunch break. In my office. Where else did you expect me?”
Okay, she had to give him that one.
“Why don’t you give her something positive to put in that old rag?” Wally said. “You know, feed her the things you want spread around town. A little positive PR?”
Jen picked up the bag of brownies, upset that Wally felt she needed to defend herself to the public. “She’ll just twist it. And there isn’t anything to say other than ‘Put out the damn fire, Scott. I need the forest for my excursions.’ Not exactly what she’s looking for.”
“An interview allows for more than that. It’ll allow people to learn who you are. Your history. Where you come from.”
“Nobody wants to know that sorry state of affairs.” Jen handed Wally a brownie and sat across from him, aware that unlike the staffroom, which had a window that looked into the store, they couldn’t see if anyone in the store needed help. She closed her eyes and savored another brownie, blocking out everything around her. Food was the cure. Although, if she kept eating as she had been she’d be wearing all those clothes she’d brought to Blueberry Springs. The ones that had become too big once she’d become active and toned up again, dropping the convenience store flab she’d accumulated working for Ken’s parents all those years ago.
“People enjoy the story behind the story,” Wally said, brushing crumbs off his shirt.
“There’s no story.” Jen grabbed coffee and stood. “I’ll be in my office doing inventory if you need me.”
She headed to her office, disappointment weighing her down. Bad news kept dogging her, snatching bits off her when it got close enough. Would it kill Wally to chase Liz out of his store? Surely she wouldn’t take it personally if it came from Wally.
Moe ambled into the store, calling out, “Have you seen my extra Brew Babies shirt? I’m late for work and can’t find a clean one.” He pulled a stained Brew Babies work shirt away from his chest to prove his point.
Jen scanned the store, on the lookout for Liz. “You left it at my place after your shift the other night. I was trying to get out the red wine, remember?” She stepped into her office and exchanged her empty coffee for her apartment keys, chucking them to Moe.
“Oh, yeah.” He shot her a grin as he caught the keys. “You still haven’t had extras made?”
A few months back Wally had let her move into the apartment above the store that he’d been keeping open in case one of his five kids wanted to move back to Blueberry Springs. But with the last one marrying herself off, he’d given up hope and finally allowed Jen to take over the place—although not paint over the crazy wall colors left behind by his first daughter. Still, she loved the place, even if it was a bit worn down such as the locks which had broken last week and had, as a result, caused Moe to be locked out from raiding her fridge as there was no longer a spare key hidden behind the loose baseboard at the landing at the top of the street’s stairs.
“Don’t forget to bring my keys back. You shirt’s in the kitchen.”
He shot her a grin over his shoulder as he left the store. Moe was so easy to hang out with. No expectations. Totally laid back and, best of all, no ambition to cheat on a girl. It would take too much effort. That was a quality she’d come to admire in a man. Even if he was just a friend.
She listened to the thumping up the steps that led from Main Street up to her apartment above the store. Waiting for Moe to return, Jen looked out the store’s front window, checking for Liz before updating herself on the status of the smoke clouds. Where the hell was all that rain she’d ordered? She leaned her forehead against the window and sighed. Her breath made small circles of fog on the glass then quickly faded. She let out another sigh and created another circle. She watched it slowly erode along the edges until it was gone. And again.
Out of the corner
of her eye, she caught a group of kids giggling at her. She pulled her head away and stuck out her tongue, sending them away laughing.
A flicker in the other direction. Tall build. Handsome man. She flashed him a flirty smile. Why not? Today was so screwed up she may as well have some fun before she got locked in jail.
She straightened as though someone had jerked a string attached to her spine. Hell’s bells on a rented pony. That handsome man wasn’t just some guy. It was Rob. Fire Investigator. Destiny holder.
He entered the store, and unable to recall how to make her limbs work, Jen stared at him from her spot by the window.
Why did she give him a flirty smile? Now he was going to think she was trying to butter him up and flirt her way out of trouble with her feminine wiles.
Did she even have feminine wiles?
She was doomed. With a very large D.
“H-h-hi,” she stuttered. Why couldn’t she catch a break with him? First she was a nature guide who started forest fires on her days off, and now she was a depressed, deranged crackpot who amused people from the front window of the store. Oh, and there was the spilling coffee all over him and insisting he take her free shirt and asking him out on a hiking date.
She bent over to stop the lightheadedness from getting worse as Wally, having heard the door’s bells jangle when Rob entered, poked his head out of the staffroom.
“You got it, Jen?”
She waved lazily. “You bet.” Oh, Lord. Now she had to sell something to His Holy Major Hotness, the man who determined her destiny in all the wrong ways. “Or…actually I have to get to that inventory.” She tucked her head down and hustled away.
Rob called after her, “I came to see you.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. He came to see her. Oh, holy. Did that sound amazing to her ears or what?
She turned to face him, half expecting cupid to be hanging in the air above him, winking at her with a wicked cherub smile.
Rob waved a leather zip-up folder in the air. “I have to take your statement and a few other things.”
