Take a Chance on Me (33 page)

Darek didn’t even want to think about the cabins at Evergreen Resort.

Jensen had also returned with three more dozers, compliments of local septic and landscaping contractors. They’d unloaded the machines and tripled their efforts, crawling all the way to Thompson Lake as if they were out for a stroll.

Teams along the line lit the back blaze with their drip torches, chewing up the fuel for the conflagration headed their way.

Now the fire plumed in front of them, burning away at the lush forest, cinders falling like ticker tape from the sky. Air tankers dropped orange slurry, hoping to slow the fire as it advanced. They just had to keep their blaze from rushing back across the swath of dirt until it met the main front of the fire head-on.

While the dozers cut line, Jensen had taken his sprinkler system and rerouted part of it from Pine Acres, dragging hose through the woods until it reached the pasture. He had water shooting full out into the pasture, wetting it down, the pump back at Pine Acres dredging water from the lake.

Overhead, the sky had turned black, ash dripping like snow.

Jensen caught another hot spot, stamping on it. Down the line, Darek saw a crew of Jed’s team sawing down a tree burning midway to the top.

“Dare, look out!”

A snag, one of the dangers of deadfall—dead trees still standing—had lit on fire and now came toppling from the heavens over the fire line, into the green.

Jensen grabbed his arm, yanked him away as the oak crashed, sparks flying. One of the hotshots turned his hose on it while another attacked it with the saw.

“Thanks,” Darek said.

He saw Jensen smile even through the bandanna.

Yeah, this felt good to him, too.

“We should head over to Gibs’s place, see if we can’t get the hoses out, wet the roof down.”

Jensen nodded.

They started off in a jog down the road.

The fire had plumed as they fought the winds. Darek saw it torching trees near the lake and picked up speed. “Uh-oh, it looks like it jumped the line—”

They rounded the edge of the pasture and cut into the forest toward the homestead. He could feel the heat, see embers swirling in the supercharged air. Ahead of him, in the middle of the road, a car burned, flames licking out of the windows, the acrid odor of burning plastic saturating the air.

“We gotta get back to the line—it’s too late to save Gibs’s house!”

Jensen didn’t stop.

Darek reached out to grab his arm but Jensen broke away, turned on him. “That’s Claire’s car!”

Claire.

Jensen whirled back around, then cut off the road through the forest toward Gibs’s place, still ahead of the fire. Darek followed him, his boots running over smoldering pine needles ready to ignite. Smoke choked his vision, his lungs.

Jensen wasn’t slowing, instead hitting away branches with his shovel, shouting Claire’s name.

They emerged at the front of the house. The fire had already ringed the edge of the yard, spitting hot spots into the grass, edging toward the house. They rounded the far end of the house, into the backyard, and found the fire there, too, rushing out like a wave toward the beach.

“Claire!”

“Over here!”

Darek turned. Froze.

No.

Ivy stood with Claire in the doorway of the house, at the apex of a ramp, clutching what looked like Tiger’s stuffed animal.

Jensen ran to the ramp. “C’mon!” He held out his hand and Claire took it. But Ivy stayed glued in the house, shaking her head.

Darek ran up the ramp. “Ivy, we gotta run!”

She just stared at him, her eyes wide, breathing hard.

“Ivy!”

“No. I can’t—”

“Ivy. I’m right here. I’m
right here
. You’re going to be just fine. Take my hand.”

Around them, more trees torched, another crashing across the yard, spitting embers.

“No—” She clutched the tiger, shaking.

“Please, Ivy. Trust me.”

She looked at his hand, back to him, her green eyes locked on his. Then she reached out her hand.

He got a good grip on her. “Stay with me and don’t stop running.” Then he pulled out the hose attached to his water backpack. They ran down the ramp, following Jensen, who had the same idea, dousing a path to the lake.

Around them, sparks lit the ground like a minefield. The flames reflected in the lake, dropping cinders onto the water’s surface.

Another log fell, this time hissing at their feet, and Darek doused it, steam rising in protest. He leaped the log and Ivy followed him, their feet hitting the sand.

Jensen was already in the water, pushing Claire out past the shore. Darek had once taken shelter in a lake during a firestorm
that had sucked the oxygen right out of the air and seared the lungs of those above the surface.

“Run for the water!” he said and pushed Ivy ahead, veering toward the canoe on shore. He grabbed the end, started to drag it.

And then Jensen was right there on the other end. He lifted it and chased Darek down to the water, dropping the canoe in. Water seeped into his pants, cool against his hot skin as he splashed deeper.

“Turn it over!” Darek said, but Jensen already had his hands on the gunwale, the keel, still reading his mind. Together they flipped the canoe and dragged it out into the water. The girls were bobbing away from shore, treading water.

Darek held his end up over his head. “C’mere, Ivy. Get under it!” His backpack of water began to float and he shucked it off as she swam to him. He caught her to himself, pulled her shaking body against him. She still held the now-soggy tiger. “Let it go, Ivy, and hold on to me.”

She obeyed. He pulled the canoe down over them, seeing Jensen do the same. Claire had ahold of the stern thwart, managing for herself as the murky shadows trapped them inside.

Outside their aluminum covering, the forest fire howled, raging itself to a frenzy.

Jensen was kicking them farther out into the lake. Probably to keep away from any trees landing on them, crushing them in the water.

Smart.

Darek hung on to the bow thwart with both hands, the lake bottom disappearing beneath his feet. Ivy was small against him, trembling, and as they drifted farther from shore, all he could think was to press his lips against her forehead, any remaining
anger, the touch of her betrayal, gone. “What are you doing here?” he whispered in the darkness.

“I . . . I came to say I’m sorry,” she said softly, her mouth against his throat. “I came to tell you that I talked to Nan, and I convinced her that Tiger needed to be with you.”

She did? He couldn’t see her, but he longed to search her eyes. “When did you do this?”

“This morning. After I resigned.”

“You
resigne
d
?”

“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. I love it here—I really do. And a big part of me wants to stay, but I care too much, Darek. About this town and about you. And I will always run into these sticky, horrible situations as assistant county attorney.”

But that’s not what hit him, not what tightened his chest. “Are you leaving?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just let the words emerge as they should—desperate and raw. “Don’t leave, Ivy. Please. I . . . I’m in love with you. I want to be with you.”

She stilled and it was probably better that he’d said it in the darkness, but oh, how he wanted to see her eyes. See if she could forgive him, too. “I’m so sorry for what I said. You do belong here. With Tiger. And . . . and with me, if you’ll have me. I know I really blew it, but I promise to be more patient, to listen and forgive and to make things right—”

She kissed him. Watery and trembling, her arm went around his neck and her lips found his. Kissing him like, yes, she’d forgiven him.

Yes, she belonged here, with him.

Darek wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning into her touch. Tasting the lake on her lips, her wet hair clinging to his face.
Ivy.

“What are you two doing over there?”

“Shh, Claire. Leave my best friend alone.”

Best friend.
Jensen relished the words just a moment before he leaned close to Claire, finding her ear, whispering in the darkness. “I love you too, you know. I’ve always loved you, Claire, even when I was stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“When I was chasing Felicity. I knew she loved Darek, and I was a jerk. Especially since the best day of my life was the day I met you.”

Jensen had just about died seeing her Yaris in flames, had another heart attack at the sight of her trapped in the house. But it would finish him off if he had to wait one more day to tell her the truth. “I know your grandfather told you that I offered to buy the land—and it’s true; I did. But you have to know that I also rescinded the offer. I am not taking your land—”

“It’s not my land,” Claire said. She’d turned in the water, and he felt her soft breath on his face. “And if my grandfather wants to sell it, then it’s his choice. God has other plans for me.”

He did? Oh, he didn’t want to be a fool, but . . . “Please tell me those plans include me.”

Please.

“Do you want them to?”

He had his hands on the stern seat, holding the canoe steady in the water. Now she wove her arm up, around his shoulder, hanging on.

“Yes,” he said. “Very much. I don’t know what’s going to hap
pen. I’ll probably have to do some time. But if you wait for me, I . . . well, I’ll follow you, Claire. Here or anywhere. If you let me, I’ll be right here, beside you. Cheering you on.”

She hooked her other arm around him, pulled herself to his chest. “Or maybe I’ll cheer
you
on.”

Then she leaned up and kissed him. Softly but taking him by surprise. His sweet, timid, saintly Claire, pulling herself tight against him, making him realize that indeed, so many years ago, he’d chased the wrong girl.

“I love you too, Jens.” She whispered it in his ear, then pressed her lips to his neck.

Oh. My. He wanted to put his arms around her, but the canoe just might topple over. All the same, he could see her face in his memory as he leaned forward, kissing her pretty little nose, those beautiful eyes that saw him and loved him anyway.

Despite his mistakes. His sins. Not because he earned it, but because she’d chosen to.

Yeah, maybe Gibs was onto something with all his preaching.

Around them, cinders fell on the water, sizzling. He was treading water, the bottom of the canoe hot, the air under it steamy. They kicked out farther from shore—he didn’t know how far, but enough that the water grew colder. Outside, the fury seemed to die, just a little.

“I have to see,” Darek finally said from the other end of the canoe.

“Are you sure?” Jensen said.

“What?” Claire whispered.

“He wants to see if Evergreen Resort is still standing.”

She said nothing, just laid her head against his chest.

“Ready, Dare?”

“Yeah.” But his voice was tight.

Jensen pushed the canoe up, over his head. It fell with a splash, upright.

He hung on to the gunwale then because his strength left him.

The fire had decimated the Gibson place, the home charred timber and ash, still burning in places, the fireplace the lone survivor. Even the dock had burned—was still burning, the old wood dropping into the water with a sigh.

Oh, Claire. He tightened his arm around her. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’re alive. That’s what matters,” she whispered.

In fact the fire had run all the way along the shore and then—

Stopped. At the corner of his property where he’d spent hours extending the sprinkler system into the pasture, the fire was dying, defeated by the plumes of spray protecting Pine Acres.

Beyond the shore, more charred forest gave way to the wet green pasture, where now he could make out yellow-shirted firefighters still mopping up the blaze.

He turned and followed the destruction along the shoreline, north.

Evergreen Resort had burned, the cabins along the lake still in flame, the stately evergreens that named the resort toppled into the water. Darek’s A-frame home, the one he’d built for Felicity, was an inferno now falling in on itself, only a skeleton remaining.

Jensen held on to Claire as he turned, tracing his gaze along the destroyed cabins to—

The lodge had survived. Jensen just stared at it, and even Claire had a hand over her mouth. The hoses still rained lake water over it, the sprays plumes of rainbow in the sky, but the lodge house stood, glistening in the morning light.

Beyond the mostly unscarred dock, in the water, Casper and John bobbed, holding on to the diving platform.

Jensen glanced at Darek.

He had his hand cupped over his face, his shoulders shaking. Jensen looked back at the property, saw Darek’s house crumble inward, embers like water splashing into the air.

He swam over to Darek. “I’m sorry, Dare. I’m so, so sorry.”

And then, with the words, something broke free. Perhaps it was the trauma, the emotion of the fire. Or maybe the sense of starting over, a baptism of sorts in the water. But he, too, felt his eyes filling. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I’m so sorry about Felicity and . . . my anger. I was angry at you. I blamed you for Felicity’s death—I know that sounds crazy, but I did. And . . . Dare, I . . . If I could take her place . . . I’m just so sorry, man. Please—”