“That’s all right. I’m not the most romantic bride.”
“Sometimes the dress tells the love story, but other times it’s all about the bride. Her story.” Joanne brought out her design. “What do you think?”
There was no mistaking the shock and longing in Brenda’s eyes. Her fingers swept over the dress, as if it was already made. “This is amazing. It’s just what I wanted but—”
“Couldn’t put into words?”
“Exactly.” She blew out a breath. “Or even had the time to find the words.”
“That was my job, and I feel like I’m a little late in delivering. But I didn’t make this design because I wanted to beg for the job back. It just came to me, and I want you to have it. Free of charge. No hard feelings.”
“No,” Brenda protested, finally looking up from the sketch. “That won’t work. You have a lot of wedding expenses that bast—guy left you with. You were supposed to make the dress, too, which would have been more money for you.”
“Don’t worry. He’s already paid me back in full. And do I look like I’m suffering?” She held out her arms to her side.
Brenda finally appraised Joanne, from the tips of her matching yellow flats to the collar of her dress. “You look great. I guess being a jilted bride agrees with you?”
The confusion in her gaze was palpable. Joanne held back a laugh. “Sometimes things happen to us, and sometimes they happen for us. Other times we make things happen. And I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”
“That’s really good to hear. We don’t all need to give into the patriarchy and get married. If you’re okay, then no one else should care how you got there.” She stood. “I want this dress, but I have to pay you for the design. I also want you to sew it for me. I’m not afraid of you touching my dress, or any ridiculous superstitions. I can see right now you’re not despondent and incapable of focusing on sewing the dress. I trust you. I’m pulling rank on my mom. This is my wedding, after all.”
Impressed that she’d been right and Brenda loved the design, Joanne stood. “Just sewing it for you will go a long way to repairing my boutique’s image. I still don’t want you to pay me for the design, but I do have an idea if you’re interested.”
A few minutes later, Brenda had gone, and Joanne had secured the first part of her plan. The doorbell chimed, and this time it was her next appointment. Leah, fresh-faced and so young. Joanne envied her in some ways. Leah would marry her first love, and hopefully she had a lifetime of happiness ahead of her. In a perfect world.
“I can’t wait to see my dress design.”
Joanne had so many ideas for Leah that she hadn’t wanted to pare them down to one. The creativity was flowing out of her as if the well had been unplugged. Released. Leah was young, but she deserved choices. And if Joanne could give them to her, she would. Good thing she’d figured out a way to do that, with Brenda’s help. She’d agreed to Joanne’s plan. Brenda would pay for Leah’s extra designs and help out with the differential on the expensive blue material that Joanne had located... In Paris, France.
“Good news,” Joanne said as she pulled out the five designs she’d created for Leah. Each one was more romantic that the next. Flowing skirts, long trains, lace and satin.
So many choices, so little time.
“I moved a few things around and was able to put you into our bigger budget plan, so I have five different designs for you.”
She gaped. “I thought I couldn’t afford that.”
Unwilling to make Leah sound like a charity case, Joanne fudged a little. “Well, I’m having a sale.”
“Oh wow! That’s great.” Leah took a seat, accepting the white lie.
“And I found the perfect material for your blue dress. I hope you don’t mind but depending on which design you choose, you might look a little like a certain older sister from the Frozen movie.” She held up air quotes.
“That’s what I was going for.”
Joanne sat with Leah and together they went through the designs one after the other.
Chapter Seventeen
Hud wound up running to the hardware store three times. Once to get the part he needed, the second time to return the wrong part he’d been sold and the third time to return a defective one. This was plumbing. Suddenly a simple household fix meant his entire afternoon was gone. Well, plus letting Rachel outside every time she saw a bird through the sliding glass door daring to encroach on her new territory. She’d laid claim to Jo’s house as her own before he had.
When his phone buzzed in his pocket, Hud fully expected to see a text from Jo, asking about dinner. Instead, he noticed he’d somehow missed a call from the station. He slid out from under the sink, bumped his head, cursed, and dialed back.
Ty picked up the phone. “We need you here ASAP. Wildfire Ridge is burning.”
Hud wasted no time. He broke speed limits getting to the station. They needed all hands on deck before the winds allowed this wildfire to rage out of control. At the station, Hud suited up, knowing he had zero time to call Jo. She understood that because of his profession, from time to time he’d get called up. But he’d bet she never imagined it would be to Wildfire Ridge. It had been many years since there’d been so much as a brush fire up there.
“When did we get the call?” Hud asked Ty, as they rode in the engine truck together.
“A few minutes ago,” Ty said. “One of the guides saw flames on the summit of the ridge. We’ve got Cal Fire units on standby from all over the Bay Area. We’ll get this under control.”
“We have to. There are people up there.”
A few years ago, Wildfire Ridge had been hundreds of acres of open and protected land, but now there were guides that lived in trailers who worked for Wildfire Ridge Outdoor Adventures. Not to mention Jill and Sam, who had built their dream home on leased land. He wanted to believe they could keep the fire from reaching their property. But the important thing was limiting the loss of life. Both his men and those on the ridge.
When they arrived, they got to work immediately setting up a perimeter. Fire trucks pulled in and hoses were pulled out. The flames in the distance licked and rose from the trees like arrows, sending plumes of gray smoke in the sky. Hud quickly assessed just by the wind shift that the fire was moving fast. By tonight, if they didn’t control this quickly, the entire hill would be taken.
Hud noticed when Alex kissed the cross on the chain he kept around his neck, like he did before they went into any burning building. Hud didn’t have a ritual. His practice was to notice every single thing around him. The wind. Heat. Ground cover. To prepare for anything. This time, they weren’t entering a contained structure. They were in open land where fire could move and jump practically unimpeded. Where, in fact, it was assisted by wind and dry tinder and brush. But they’d had controlled burns on the ridge which should have held. Still, the last time he’d been up on the property he’d noticed sagebrush too close to a trailer which needed to be cleared. He’d spoken to a guide about it. One could never be too careful.
Now this.
He moved closer to the fire, the flames making their own eerie crackling sound. The crew immediately moved to post up to the defensible areas: the house, the trailers where the some of the guides lived.
“Is J.P. here?” Hud asked.
“Either here or on his way,” Ty said.
“He’s not ready for this.”
Hud found Sam outside with his hose, defending the home.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Save him from these can-do Marines that believed on some level they were invincible. “Sam, I don’t advise this. Let us do our job.”
“I could use your help,” Sam yelled. “Not sending you away.”
“You see those flames over there?” Hud pointed in the distance. “That could come up on us in minutes.”
“Sam!” Jill screamed from behind them, c
limbing off an ATV. She’d apparently been on the other side of the ridge when she saw the flames.
“Get out of here, Jill! And take Fubar with you.” He opened a gate, and out came their three-legged retriever, running toward Jill.
She picked him up and turned to her fiancé. “Samuel Hawker, I’m not going anywhere without you!”
“I just finished building this house!” he yelled back.
“We’ll do everything we can do save it.” Hud clapped him on the shoulder. “The good news is you listened, and you have plenty of defensible space between your house and any vegetation. That gives us time. Go with Jill. She needs you and we’ve got this.”
That seemed to reach him a little, and then he caught Jill’s eyes. “Please, Sam.”
“Listen to her, man.”
“Please.”
With that last word from his lover, Sam folded. He dropped the hose and walked toward Jill, tugging her into his arms.
The crew advanced and sprayed the gel pretreatment on the house to keep the wood siding from getting hot as quickly. But it was certainly not a complete deterrent to the fire that kept moving. It would consume several acres per hour until they managed to contain it. As the wind shifted again, they kept the hoses aimed on the fire as it got closer, a sort of useless exercise when it came to this beast. He’d never seen this kind of fire behavior before. Both the intensity and speed were alarming.
Cal Fire crews from the Bay Area pulled in and went to work.
Two hours later, the fire had spread. It moved quickly, devouring everything in its path. Trees snapped. Bushes sizzled. The sky grew cloudy, gunmetal gray and ominous. As the sun slipped down the ridge, orange flames created their own kind of light. Beautiful and deadly.
“Where’s J.P.?” Hud asked.
“He’s here,” Alex said. “Had the hose a minute ago but the chief sent him to help defend the trailer, the one closest to the vegetation. He’s got another man with him. All the guides and residents have been evacuated.”
“Not much of a defensible area there.”
Suddenly an explosion lit up the night sky. Hud saw a trailer consumed in flames. No. Not J.P. He was too young. Too inexperienced. Hud ran toward the blaze, taking the hose with him. Two firefighters lay on the ground, obviously having been thrown. Flames were coming off one of them. Hud tackled him, rolling him until the flames were put out.
But it was only when he saw the Probation emblem on his helmet that Hud realized it was J.P.
* * *
As she locked up the shop and headed home, Joanne heard the sirens and, as was her habit, immediately thought of Hunter.
He’s fine. A siren does not always mean an accident. It certainly doesn’t mean it’s Hunter who’s been hurt. I have to stop being so paranoid.
Still, she checked in with him via text, making up an inane excuse, asking whether or not he was due to come home next week on Monday or Tuesday after school. She knew very well it was Monday but how else would she get him to respond? He was probably playing some video game when he should be doing his homework.
Hunter: D-uh. Monday.
Whew. Next, she thought of Hud, as had also become her habit, but he wasn’t on rotation today, so she wasn’t too worried. Joanne headed to the supermarket, where she picked up ingredients to make dinner tonight. Usually he cooked, and while he was good at it and didn’t mind, she was starting to feel like a slacker in that department.
She texted him:
I’m making Chicken Florentine tonight.
She smiled and added a heart emoticon just for kicks. It wasn’t until she was in the checkout line along with other customers that she saw fire trucks careening down Monterey Street, one after another, sirens blazing. They weren’t Fortune Valley Fire Department trucks. She caught San Jose and... San Francisco?
Dear God.
She pulled out her phone and texted Hud again.
Hey, what’s going on? Are you home?
No answer.
A customer talking to the checker said, “I heard there’s a wildfire on the ridge.”
“What?” Jo interrupted. “Are you sure about that?”
“All you have to do is walk outside and you’ll see the plume coming off the ridge. Plus, that’s an awful lot of fire engines we just saw.”
But that didn’t mean a wildfire. It could be misinformation, she told herself. Hud had told her a million times not to jump to conclusions. Rumors spread like wildfire in their small town, way more than actual wildfires did. She knew this, and yet her heart wouldn’t stop trying to beat out of her chest because Hud still hadn’t replied. One text with no reply was no big deal, but two? He never ignored her like this.
She drove home, ignoring the rapidly graying and smoky skies, praying, envisioning Hud’s truck parked in her driveway. It wasn’t there. She rushed inside, forgetting the groceries. Tools were left on the floor near the sink, which Hud would never do unless he had to leave quickly. Rachel was outside in the yard and the minute she caught sight of Joanne through the patio door she began barking like a fiend to be let in.
Joanne did so, picking up the sweet dog and cuddling her. “Who’s a good girl? You’re spoiled rotten, you know that? I thought dogs were supposed to love outside.”
This was Hud’s fault. From the beginning, he’d treated Rachel like a little princess. Even the name he’d given her. He’d coddled her and given her treats and people food when she begged. Once, he’d cooked boiled chicken and rice, because he’d heard it was good for dogs. Let her sleep on the floor in his bedroom instead of in her perfectly good kennel.
That was because, despite the fact that Hudson Decker was as big and rugged a man as any, he had the most tender heart she’d ever known.
The tears slipped down her cheeks then and she simply held Rachel on her lap, not knowing what to do. He still hadn’t responded, and he wouldn’t if he were on the ridge fighting a blaze. She was helpless again just when she’d finally taken control of her life. Just when she’d finally realized how much she loved him. It wasn’t fair.
When the room finally darkened to the point where she should turn on a light, Joanne continued to sit in the darkness. Rachel eventually hopped off her lap and turned in circles, knowing something was wrong. Maybe smelling it in the air.
Then someone was tapping at the front door and Joanne rushed to open it, realizing she’d left it open. The thick air outside gave the night a hazy film. Joanne nearly choked on the stench of smoke. Zoey Davis, the Sheriff’s new wife who owned the pet supply store in town, stood just outside the door. For a moment, Joanne didn’t know what to think.
“Ryan asked me if I’d come and get you,” Zoey said tentatively. “He thought you’d be scared if he sent one of his deputies.”
Oh. God. Maybe if she hadn’t said that. “Why? What’s wrong? Is it Hud?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Zoey said gently. “But there was an explosion, caused by one of the trailers on the ridge, and two firefighters were badly injured and taken by ambulance. Hud might be one of them.”
Chapter Eighteen
Joanne didn’t say a word during the drive to the hospital. Hard to talk, when she wasn’t entirely sure that she could breathe. Rachel sat on Joanne’s lap, because Zoey said she’d watch her when Joanne was inside the hospital. Joanne hadn’t wanted to leave her behind, because Rachel knew. She knew something was terribly wrong. And right now, they needed each other. They both loved the same man beyond all reason.
This isn’t happening. I’ve been afraid of all the wrongs things. Financial instability. Winding up alone. Reckless and careless driving. What I should have been afraid of all along was Hud’s profession.
When he’d applied for the Fire Department, she’d actually researched firefighter deaths and found that around 45 percent of them were caused by heart attacks. That was nearly half, so she hadn�
�t worried too much. He ate healthy—she helped with that—and was active. She’d been fooled, lulled into a false sense of security, because Hud was so good at his job. He’d never get hurt or killed. He took precautions. Mitigated the risks they all took and was compulsive about safety on the job.
And now he loved her and would never leave her again.
I above all people know that it doesn’t work that way.
Fathers died suddenly and unexpectedly. Even when they had a family they adored and even when they tried to stay healthy. Sometimes it was DNA. Family history. The cruel twist of fate. Because of her father, Joanne’s mother had become a widow. A single mother. And then Joanne had been a single mother.
Something she vowed never to be again. Yet she loved Hudson Decker with all her heart.
She thought she’d changed, grown, but she still had one major character flaw. The fault of a romantic. She still saw only what she wanted to see. With Chuck, she’d wanted to see a dependable man that she could eventually grow to love. Even if she should have seen the clear signs that was never going to happen.
Now she desperately loved a man that she wanted to believe would never leave her. But there were different types of abandonment.
Zoey dropped Joanne at the Emergency Room entrance. “I’ll park and stay with Rachel. Don’t worry.”
Worry? Worry? Was she joking? “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Zoey squeezed Joanne’s arm. “Ryan’s in there somewhere, and he’ll help you. He’s really good at that.”
These were some of the comforts of a small town. A police presence with a sheriff who was also a friend to many. Deputies who went beyond the call of duty. The sheriff’s wife, who came to your house to give you news she thought you should have.
Joanne walked slowly on boneless legs, through the swinging doors of the emergency room. What was she going to ask the triage nurse? She wasn’t Hud’s wife. Not actual family. Was she going to have to call the “best friend” card here? A maniacal sound came out of her that was a cross between a giggle and a sob. She overheard someone, perhaps a reporter, say that the firefighter had been taken to the second floor and was being prepped for transfer to the burn unit in Oakland. Joanne moved faster then, running to the elevator and punching the button like her life depended on it. Hud would not leave this hospital without seeing her first. No matter what.
The Right Moment Page 17
