“Mom, Mom!” she called as she dashed across the street, barely watching for oncoming traffic.
Charlotte turned and hurried toward her daughter. They hugged fiercely for a minute, clinging to each other.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes,” Charlotte assured her, tears slipping down her pale cheeks.
“What about Harry?”
Mack hadn’t seen the family cat and he’d been too busy to remember Charlotte and Ben’s pet.
“Ben got him out of the house,” Charlotte explained. She glanced around as if unsure where he was currently hiding. “Oh, poor Harry, he must be terrified. He doesn’t usually go outside, you know….” Her voice faded.
Mack’s experience with the cat was limited. Whenever he, Mary Jo and Noelle visited, Harry made it clear that he was willing to tolerate them, but no more than that. After accepting the respectful greetings he considered his due, he generally ignored them all and retreated to his accustomed place on the back of the sofa. His other favorite perch was the windowsill overlooking the front yard. Harry was probably hiding somewhere, under the porch or maybe in some bushes. If the cat didn’t show up soon, he’d help with the search.
The squad commander seemed to be finished speaking to Ben, who now joined the circle. “Mack,” the older man said, looking flustered. His white hair, normally carefully groomed, was in disarray, as if he’d rammed his fingers through it repeatedly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice husky, “for looking after Charlotte.”
Mack didn’t feel he’d done anything out of the ordinary.
“Mack, what about the damage to the house?” Olivia asked him.
“That’s being assessed,” he replied, “but there doesn’t appear to be any damage to rooms other than the kitchen.”
“I’m so grateful you got here when you did,” Charlotte murmured.
“Mom. Ben.” Will Jefferson, her son, hoofed it up the last part of the steep street and across the lawn. Apparently he’d run from the Harbor Street Art Gallery, where he lived and worked. It was only a few blocks away, but unfortunately they were all straight uphill.
“Everything’s okay,” Olivia told him. “Mom, Ben and Harry got out in time.”
“Thank God.” Will leaned over and placed his hands on his knees, wheezing as he attempted to catch his breath. “I didn’t know what to think when you called,” he said to Olivia.
“Mrs. Johnson left me a message at the courthouse,” Olivia told their mother, “and then I phoned Will.”
“I hope I didn’t upset you too much,” the next-door neighbor said, her brow furrowed. She stood a few feet away. “I saw the fire and phoned it in, but Ben had already taken care of that. Then I thought if it was my house I’d want my children to know what was going on, so I called the courthouse. I do hope that was the right thing to do.”
“It certainly was,” Olivia said fervently. “Don’t ever hesitate to contact me in regard to Mom and Ben. About anything,” she emphasized.
“Me, too,” Will chimed in.
“Oh, yes,” Charlotte echoed, reaching for her daughter’s arm. “I feel much better now that my children are here.”
“What happened?” Will asked, still a little breathless. He glanced from Ben to Mack and back to Ben.
“I’m not sure,” Ben said, turning to Charlotte.
“I made lunch the way I always do—chicken noodle soup, which was on simmer—and then Ben and I sat down. We were reading when Ben said he smelled smoke.”
Ben nodded in agreement.
“I didn’t smell anything, so I didn’t worry about it. My new cooking magazine arrived today and they had twenty-eight recipes on how to use zucchini and I was absorbed in that. Then all of a sudden Ben threw down his book and let out a yell.”
“Yes,” Ben said, picking up the tale. “I saw flames.”
“Thank goodness Ben can deal with a crisis because I panicked. My first thought was that we needed to put out the fire ourselves, but by then the kitchen drapes were in flames, and it was…just too much.”
Mack cringed since trying to handle the fire themselves was one of the biggest mistakes homeowners made.
“One look told me it was already more than either of us could deal with,” Ben continued, “so I got Charlotte and Harry out of the house and used my cell phone to call 9-1-1.”
Mack was grateful that Ben had remained calm. Too many people stayed inside the home to contact 9-1-1, putting themselves at greater risk. “You did the best possible thing,” he said. “The first action to take is always to get everyone out of the house, then call the fire department.”
“What happens next?” Olivia asked, directing the question to Mack.
“The fire department will investigate the cause,” he told them.
“When will the investigator get here?” Ben asked, standing close to Charlotte.
“Usually within a couple of hours,” Mack told them.
“What about the Crock-Pot?” Charlotte said suddenly, clutching Ben’s arm. “I had tonight’s dinner in it. Should we try to find it in this mess?”
“Mom, I think dinner is the least of your problems,” Will inserted. “I’d assume the Crock-Pot’s a lost cause.”
Mack couldn’t remember seeing it, but his attention had been focused on putting out the fire.
“What can you tell me about dealing with the insurance people?” Ben asked, looking at Mack. “Will they get in touch with us or will I need to call them?”
“You’ll need to notify them.”
“The contact information is inside the house,” Ben muttered.
“Do you have the same carrier as you do for your car insurance?”
“Yes.”
“Then the phone number should be on your insurance card.” Washington state law required carrying proof of insurance when driving, so either Ben had the insurance card in his wallet or in the car’s glove compartment.
“Of course.” Ben grimaced. “I guess I’m more rattled than I thought.”
“It’s understandable,” Mack said. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure he wasn’t needed elsewhere and noticed that Andrew McHale, the fire investigator, had arrived. Before he could point him out, Andrew disappeared around the back of the house.
“How long will it be before we can go back in the house?” Charlotte asked. “I do hope everyone will be gone by five—that’s when Ben likes to watch Judge Judy.”
“Mom,” Olivia said, gently patting her mother’s hand. “You won’t be able to go back in the house. The kitchen’s going to need a complete overhaul. It might be several weeks before the house is livable again.”
“We can’t go back in the house?” she asked in confusion. “For several weeks? Why not?”
Mack realized that Charlotte hadn’t taken in what Olivia was saying.
“The kitchen’s been destroyed,” Will said, speaking slowly and clearly.
“I know that, dear, but the rest of the house is fine.”
“Still, you can’t live there until the damage to the kitchen has been repaired.”
“But…” Charlotte turned to Ben as if asking him to plead her case.
Mack understood that she was bewildered and uncertain; she didn’t seem to understand the gravity of what had taken place.
“But…where will we go?” Charlotte asked helplessly.
“Depending on the type of insurance coverage you have, the company might pay for you to stay in a hotel while the repairs are made,” Mack explained.
“A hotel?” Charlotte shook her head as though the very idea was repugnant to her.
“Mom, you can stay with me,” Will said. “I’m close to the house and—”
“Not a good idea, Will,” Olivia cut in. “You’re living at the art gallery. That’s no place for Mom and Ben. They’ll stay with Jack and me.”
The moment Olivia mentioned her husband’s name, he drove up—almost as though he’d been summoned. The town’s newspaper editor, Jack Griffin also di
d reporting duty when required; in this case he would have recognized the address. Accompanied by a cameraman, Jack headed in their direction, his ever-present raincoat billowing out from his sides as he strode across the lawn.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I called this meeting,” he said, introducing a bit of humor.
Mack smothered a laugh.
“Jack, this is no time to joke,” Olivia said, then hugged him. She seemed relieved that he’d come.
“Oh, Jack, they say we can’t go back inside,” Charlotte wailed. “I’m afraid this is all my fault.”
“No one’s blaming you,” Will said.
“I want Mom and Ben to come home with us until the house is repaired,” Olivia insisted.
“By all means.” Jack reached for his reporter’s pad, a spiral-bound notebook, and had his cameraman get photos of the firefighters as they prepared to leave.
“Jack!” Olivia glared at her husband.
“What?”
“You’re not going to interview my mother, are you? Can’t you see she’s distraught?”
“Ah…” Jack Griffin had the good grace to look sheepishly at his mother-in-law. “I am a reporter, Olivia, and this is news.”
“I don’t mind, dear,” Charlotte said, placating her daughter by patting her arm. “Ben was our hero, saving Harry and me and…oh, dear. Where is Harry?”
“We’ll look for him, Mom.” She turned to her husband. “Why don’t you talk to Mack,” Olivia suggested. “He can explain about the fire.”
Mack shook his head. It would be more appropriate if Jack talked to the squad commander. “I’m sure Chief Nelson would be happy to answer your questions.” He motioned toward him, and Jack left them, hurrying toward Chief Nelson, pen in hand.
Mack saw Jack scribbling furiously during his conversation with the chief, nodding several times. Once he glanced over his shoulder at his mother-in-law and frowned, which told Mack that the cause of the fire had most likely been attributed to Charlotte—just as he’d guessed. She must have been distracted and left something, maybe the soup she’d mentioned, on the stove. He remembered that she’d talked about reading a magazine.
“You’ll be coming home with us,” Olivia was saying when Mack returned his attention to Ben and Charlotte.
“But, Olivia…”
“Mom, you can’t stay here and you can’t stay with Will. Where would you sleep?”
“It would probably be best if you went with Olivia,” Will concurred as Ben nodded. “My apartment’s pretty small with only the one bedroom. I’d sleep on the sofa if necessary, but frankly, it makes more sense for you to go home with Olivia.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ll need to collect a few things. Ben,” she said, “will you find Harry?”
“I’ll go in with you,” Mack offered. “It’s better if you don’t go anywhere close to the kitchen until after the fire investigator’s had a chance to finish his report and the insurance people have come by.”
Then Mack joined Ben in looking for the cat. They found him a few minutes later, cowering under the front porch.
“It’s all my fault,” Charlotte was saying when they returned, shaking her head as if to erase the memory of that afternoon. “Harry!” She held out her arms for the cat. “Oh, my sweetie…” She nuzzled his broad head and then raised her eyes to Olivia. “I’m still not clear on what happened….”
“Don’t worry, Mom.”
“If Ben and I are going to be with you for several weeks, I’ll help you as much as I can,” Charlotte promised. “I’ll clean and cook and I won’t be a bother.”
“Mom, you’d never be a bother.”
“I’ll bake for Jack,” she said, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. “You know how he enjoys my baking.”
“Jack doesn’t need you baking for him, Mom.”
“Then I’ll cook him a pot roast. Jack’s fond of my pot roasts.”
“Jack’s fond of food, Mom,” Olivia said. “The fact is, I can’t think of a single thing you cook that he doesn’t dig into like a starving man.”
Charlotte beamed with pride. “Jack’s a man of discriminating taste. Haven’t I always said so?”
“Indeed.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mom, Mack and I’ll help you and Ben collect what you need, starting with the cat carrier. Then we’ll go to our house.”
“You’re sure about this?” Charlotte asked.
“Very sure,” Olivia said, and slid one arm around her mother’s waist.
Ben and Charlotte Rhodes would be fine, Mack mused as he followed them. They had family.
Three
Chad Timmons paced his Tacoma apartment and was so deep in thought, he nearly collided with the wall. That just proved it—the woman drove him to distraction. From the moment he’d met Gloria Ashton, it’d been an on-again, off-again relationship. Like some unpredictable wind, she blew hot and then cold. The worst of it was he’d put up with it. Well, he’d had about all he could take. He refused to play her games anymore—and that was what they were. Games. As far as he could see, there was no way he could win because she kept changing the rules. One day she wanted nothing to do with him. The next, she couldn’t keep her hands off him.
Fine. He’d decided he was finished. And he’d stuck to that. Until Roy McAfee had hurtled into his life like a meteorite on its passage to earth. The crater that blast had left was deep enough to bury him.
Gloria was pregnant—with his baby. He was about to become a father.
Talk about changing the rules…
It all added up now. After they’d spent the night together, Chad had felt so sure they could resolve their differences. He was high on love, his head in the clouds, like some sappy walking cliché. The shock of her taking off without a word had made him feel bereft and stupid. Oh, she’d written a note, but that had explained nothing.
So he’d vowed that if this was how she felt, he’d deal with it. He was finished. Chad had resigned from his position at the Cedar Cove Medical Clinic, moved to Tacoma and accepted a job as an emergency room physician. He’d even started dating someone else. Joni Atkins was a lot less volatile and a lot more decisive.
A baby.
Even now, Chad had difficulty coping with Roy’s news. If he was shocked, he could imagine Gloria’s reaction. Her feelings about him, and about a future with him, seemed tentative, ambivalent at best. She’d moved into the Puget Sound area a few years ago to search for her birth parents. Her adoptive parents had been killed in a small-plane crash and she was virtually without family. Then Gloria discovered something that had completely unsettled her. Her birth parents had eventually married and she had a full sister and brother. She’d told him all that on their first night together—which was also the night they’d met. Their relationship had moved from being strangers to being intimate with reckless speed. That embarrassed Gloria and, frankly, him, too. Chad knew better. So did Gloria. Afterward she’d asked for time to connect with her birth family. She’d done that but nothing had changed. Every advance Chad made was met with stiff resistance. Then it happened again. She’d agreed to a date, and they ended up in bed, which was followed by embarrassment and regret on Gloria’s part. Again.
Now Gloria was pregnant.
She hadn’t told him, although now he assumed she’d come to break the news the day she’d met him in the hospital parking lot. How was he to know what she’d intended? As far as he was concerned, they were finished. That seemed to be what she’d requested; according to the note she’d left him, she wanted nothing more to do with him. If she’d changed her mind, it was too late, or so he’d felt at the time. He’d moved on and he’d advised her to do the same.
Roy, Gloria’s birth father, had taken a tremendous risk by coming to see him. Gloria had asked that Chad be kept in the dark regarding the pregnancy, and Corrie, her birth mother, had agreed. But not Roy.
Years earlier Corrie McAfee had become pregnant while in college. Roy hadn’t learned he was a father until after his da
ughter had been adopted. Apparently it remained a sore point between Gloria’s birth parents. Roy wasn’t willing to let history repeat itself, although Corrie felt the choice should be Gloria’s alone. Going against his wife’s and daughter’s wishes, Roy made sure Chad knew about the baby.
Chad hadn’t decided yet what he should do. He worried that Gloria, who worked as a sheriff’s deputy, might undergo too much stress in her normal job; she needed to be on desk duty. He wanted to talk to her, explain how important it was that she look after herself by eating right, taking appropriate prenatal vitamins, seeing her doctor regularly. While rationally he recognized that she was undoubtedly doing all those things, he couldn’t help wanting confirmation.
Chad reached for his car keys. It’d been several weeks since his life was turned upside down and, so far, he’d done nothing other than rage about the situation, agonize over it and try to settle on some course of action. The time had come to do something.
As he drove into Cedar Cove, Chad stopped at the local bookstore and picked up a baby name book, and a few others he often recommended to his patients. Perhaps that was a waste of money, since Gloria might already own these books, but he didn’t care. It made him feel better. Knowing she didn’t want to see him, Chad thought he’d ask Roy McAfee to give her the books.
He got the address for the private investigator’s office from the business card Roy had left him. Parking on the steep hill, Chad looked down at the waterfront, which bustled with activity on this beautiful September day. Cedar Cove had been his home for five years and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it.
The totem pole at the library caught his eye. Its eagle’s wings were spread wide as though embracing the entire community. He’d enjoyed spending lunch hours at the waterfront park. Visiting the Saturday market had been another favorite activity; he remembered buying produce so fresh soil still clung to the roots. He saw a couple of kayakers paddling near the marina, their smooth, even strokes sending out ripples behind them. Harbor Street was busy, too, with late-afternoon shoppers and people leaving work.