She stared at him with the eyes of a startled animal. “You’re a litigator, not some Podunk town lawyer. There’s no business here. I’m not here.”
Ambition trumps love. He knew what her answer would be. Don’t be disappointed. Maybe it’s a bad idea. She’s right about most things. She’d said she wanted to slow down and have a family, but she didn’t mean it. Especially after spending days with her parents. Their influence was too entrenched. They’d forced her into a life she didn’t want, and they would keep pressuring her. Success. Money. Status. Everything fake. None of which one would find in River Valley. Here it was family, friends, stars in a clear sky. Everything real.
She rolled away from him and out of the bed. Before he could understand what was happening, she had pulled on her shorts and blouse. “You have a chance at partner in one of the top firms in Los Angeles. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? What you’ve worked so hard for? You said you wanted a life with me in L.A. I can’t just give up my practice and my house and move away from my family. Just like that, you choose this instead of me. It’s just like before. You won me over and now we’re too close and you have to sabotage everything. You’re impulsive and selfish. You haven’t changed.”
“Lizzie, wait a minute.”
“No, you wait a minute. You got me to trust you and dream with you and now you pull this? Moving to River Valley? It’s the wackiest thing I’ve ever heard. If you really think giving up a half-million dollar a year job is a good decision, you’re delusional. What about me? What about having a family? You think we can raise a family on the income of a small-town lawyer with no business? Your head is in the serious clouds. But I guess now that you’ve found your new daddy, you have no need for me.” She grabbed her purse and her small suitcase and headed for the door.
“Lizzie, stop. It was just an idea. I’ll do whatever you want.”
She slammed the door on her way out.
But Lizzie. You didn’t let me finish. I want to be wherever you are. You’re my home. I’ll stay wherever you want.
He lay in bed with his arm thrown over his eyes. She was right. He was impulsive. No one in their right mind made a move like this when they had the opportunities he had in Los Angeles. He’d worked hard for years to reach this goal, and he was ready to throw it away after a dip in the river? I’m ridiculous. There was another element, as well. Her strong reaction had not been what he’d expected. She was always calm and methodical when working through a problem. He figured she’d say no, but not react with anger and hurt. She’d taken his desire to move as a rejection of her. How was that possible, when he meant the opposite? He went back over the conversation. Hadn’t it been obvious he meant for them to move here together? Obviously not.
He’d said, I could open an office here in town. Not we. Every good lawyer knew how one word in a contract could change everything. I instead of we. What an idiot.
His father had been right. He was stupid and careless. That’s who he was down deep. All those years ago, he’d hurt Lizzie and it was still there, hovering just beneath the surface. One wrong move and she would run away. That’s exactly what he’d just done. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
But he wanted to be a better man than he was. He wanted to be like Mike. He wanted to be a man who took care of his family. Lizzie was his family. She had to understand that he would do anything for her. Live in L.A. Take the partner role. Have a baby. Anything to make her happy.
How could he fix this?
He rolled out of bed and called Mike. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Liz
LIZ RAN THROUGH the downpour to her car. Thunder shouted from the sky. Where was she going? Away from here. Away from him. I want to see Lola. I want to be in Aunt Sally’s house. The only place that had ever felt like home other than the apartment she’d shared with Grant. Liz swiped at her cheeks as she drove through town. It was no use. Hot tears had no end. Screw crying. Tears were for weak sissies. She should scream and throw things. Curse his name. Damn if he hadn’t hurt her again. Just like she knew he would. She was just another one of his impulses. I love you, Lizzie. I want to win you back, Lizzie. But he’d come to River Valley and discovered his family and now they were his new impulse. She was discarded. Why had she let him in? Why had she allowed herself to believe in their future?
Lightning lit up the sky. Holy God, the thunder was loud. The car bumped along the dirt road. She gripped the steering wheel. Why was she out in this? Lightning flashed again. Finally, she reached the house. She got out of the car and ran across the yard to the house. The rain had ceased. Now it was lightning and thunder one after the other. The thunder felt like it was just over her head. It seemed to shake the ground.
Lola was already at the door when she reached the porch. “Liz, get in here. You shouldn’t be out in this.”
Once they were inside, Lola wrapped her hands around the upper parts of Liz’s arms. “What in the world happened?”
Liz sobbed as the story spilled out of her. “And he wants to live here without me. After everything we planned.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Lola stroked her wet hair. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll make you some hot tea.”
In the kitchen, Liz sank onto one of the chairs as Lola bustled about fixing tea.
“Are you sure you understood him correctly?” Lola asked. “Maybe it was more of an idea than a plan.”
Another flash of lightning exploded in the sky, and then an earsplitting crash that sounded like monster trucks colliding. Was it just outside the house? They both rushed to the front of the house. The dead tree near the barn was on fire.
“My God, it hit that tree,” Lola said. “We should call 911.”
“I left my phone in the car,” Liz said.
“Don’t go out there. Mine’s here someplace. Upstairs, I think.” Lola ran for the stairs.
Liz stayed by the window, watching in disbelief as the fire spread from the dry tree to the grass. It will stop now. The rain will have made the grass wet. But the brief rain had not been enough to dampen the grass sucked dry of moisture from months of hot summer weather. Pushed by the fast winds, the fire ate the meadow until it was a mass of flames. By the time Lola returned, the fire had spread to the barn. Like a many-legged monster, it traveled up the dry rafters until the entire barn was on fire. “My car’s in there,” Lola said.
They rushed to the other side of the house. From the dining room, they watched the fire creep up the wooden platform that held the old oil tank. “Is there oil left in that?” Liz asked, remembering suddenly that Uncle Jimmy used to heat the house with oil.
“I doubt it,” Lola said. “But I don’t know.”
If there was, the tank might blow if the fire reached it. “We have to get out of here,” Liz said. “My car. Let’s get in my car.”
As Liz spoke, a branch from the fiery tree broke apart from the trunk and landed on the hood of her car. They held on tightly to one another. What do we do?
Sirens. The sound of fire engines. “They’re coming,” Liz said.
“Thank God,” Lola said. They rushed back to the front of the house. The entire barn, meadow, and front yard were in flames. One big gust of wind and the house would be on fire.
“Where do we go?” Liz panted like they’d been running.
“The root cellar. We’ll be safe in there in case it gets the house,” Lola said.
They grabbed several bottles of water from the kitchen before they ran through the back door, across the lawn, and toward the hillside. The heat of the fire created its own whistling wind. Like a dessert gust, it was hot against her skin. The demon sped across the property, roaring as it devoured trees. From the barn came a popping sound like hail on a tin roof. Smoke stung her eyes. Behind them, a ferocious boom caused them both to scream. They turned as the barn collapsed on itself with a great gush like the last breath of a dragon.
Lola coughed as she yanked the door
of the cellar open and shoved Liz inside. With her cell phone flashlight, Lola lit the room. It was nothing more than a room hollowed out of the earth. The shelves were empty other than rows of canning jars. Lola shut the door. They huddled together on the dirt floor. It was cooler than the outside air. Would it stay that way if the hillside went up in flames? Do not think about that. Stay calm.
Like a freight train, the fire roared. With snaps and pops and whistles it gobbled trees and grass. Would it take the house?
Lola dialed 911 and spoke to the operator. “We’re in the root cellar just south of the house. The fire’s spreading quickly. We think it may take the house. A fiery branch fell on my cousin’s car and mine was in the barn, which is gone. There’s no way out.” She nodded. “Yes, yes, we’ll stay put. Stay on the line? Yes, okay.” A pause. “Oh no. I lost them. I think my phone’s dead. I always forget to charge the stupid thing.”
Above, the freight train thundered and bellowed. Got you, got you, got you. She pulled her knees up to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. This is it. This is how my life ends. Why had she left Grant in anger? Now she’d never have the chance to make it right. She’d reacted out of her neurosis, her unhealthy ambition. Because of her rigidity, her need to be the kind of daughter her father wanted, she’d hurt Grant. For no reason. He’d come to her with the vulnerability of a boy and she kicked him like a bully would kick an innocent puppy. It was ridiculous because she wanted to move here and make a family with him. That’s all she’d ever wanted, and when it was presented to her, she acted in fear instead of with love. She’d never be able to tell him yes. A thousand times yes. She sniffed.
Lola put her arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to get out of here. Henri’s up there looking after us. It’s not our time.”
I’m afraid it is.
“Lola, tell me about him. Tell me about the moment you saw him on the train.” Let me go out listening to a love story.
“It was a train bound for Dijon. He sat across from me with a sketch book in his hand, and he asked me in French, ‘May I draw your beautiful face?’ And I said yes.”
A thousand times yes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Grant
GRANT AND MIKE stood at the northwest corner of Mike’s property taking in the view. From here they could see the hollow of the valley with the little town nestled in the middle and the river like a green snake. The storm had passed through as quickly as it came. All that remained was an angry purple cloud drifting west. Just below them rain water glistened on the rows and rows of grapevines.
“This here is one of the highest locations in the area,” Mike said.
“It’s spectacular.”
“Your mother loved this spot,” Mike said. “We used to walk up here and have a picnic when she visited. She liked the view, but that was before the winery.” Mike shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Grant summed up the conversation with Lizzie. “She left angry and hurt. I’m an idiot. I should’ve explained it differently. I should’ve told her up front that I would never move here if she didn’t want to go. Now she’s so hurt and angry, I don’t know if she’ll listen to reason. Plus, she’s not picking up her phone. It just goes to voicemail like she has it turned off.”
“She just needs a chance to cool off.” Mike patted his shoulder. “And you’re not an idiot. You may not have expressed yourself just right, but there’s no need to call yourself names.”
Grant looked out at the rows of grapes in perfectly straight lines. Lizzie would love this view. “When we were young, I promised Lizzie I’d buy her a piece of property that overlooked a winery.”
“I always thought it would be a great place to build a house,” Mike said. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“What? Mine? No, I should buy it from you.”
“It’s already yours. When I’m gone, this land will be split between you and your brothers. No reason why you can’t take your share now.”
“I can’t. Not now. Not if Lizzie doesn’t want to live here.”
“Maybe show her this view first.” Mike smiled. “There’s no reason this can’t be a vacation home. Maybe there’s a compromise.”
Grant nodded. “Good point.”
Mike cocked his head. “Is that sirens? I hope this storm hasn’t caused a fire.”
They looked to the left. A puff of smoke rose in the distance. “Crap, kid, that’s in Lola’s proximity. Looks like a fire.” He took his phone from his pocket. “Tommy’s calling. He probably has news about the fire. Hey Tommy. Oh crap. All right. Yes.” Mike put the phone away and looked over at him. “I don’t want you to panic, son, but we have a little situation. Lola’s property is on fire. Lizzie’s with her.”
Like on a bad roller coaster ride, his stomach dropped. “How bad is the fire?”
“Lola was on the phone with 911 before they got cut off. She told the operator they’re trapped on the property, they’re hiding in a root cellar dug into the hillside. It’s the perfect storm. Lightning hit a dead tree and with this wind, the fire spread fast. A tree fell on the car in the driveway. The barn collapsed, so the other car was destroyed as well. The house is on fire now. Everything’s so dry. Tommy said they’re sending a plane with fire retardant. It’ll put it right out.”
“How soon can they get there?”
“I’m not sure,” Mike said.
“We have to go out there. I have to be there when she comes out.”
“They’re not gonna let us anywhere near that place.”
“We have to go anyway,” Grant said. “Please. Get as close as we can.”
**
Mike was right. The roads were blockaded about a mile from Lola’s farm. Emergency crews were the only ones allowed through. Grant paced and bit his nails. Time dragged. He heard the plane before he saw it. But suddenly it was above them, flying low, swooping down like a bald eagle on prey. The red retardant was unleashed.
“Once they’ve got it under control, the foot crews will go in,” Mike said. “I see the sheriff. He’s a poker buddy of mine. I’ll see if he’ll let us through.”
The sheriff, Riley Smith, took pity on them and agreed to take them closer to the farm in his car once the flames died down. Ten minutes later, he told them to get in the car. “The smoke will be too much for us to get too close. Firefighters have masks and such.”
The smoke grew denser the closer they came to the farm. There’s more smoke after a fire’s put out. The fire retardant did its job. But Lizzie? Could she survive the smoke? Even in the car, it filled Grant’s nostrils. Please God, let Lizzie be all right.
They were a safe distance from the fire but close enough now to see what the monster had done. The barn had collapsed, and the house was charred beyond recognition. Fields were black. Lizzie’s rental car was nothing but a heap of fried metal.
Firefighters in full gear had stormed the property. The gray clouds unleashed a torrent of rain. An answer to prayer? He couldn’t remember hearing thunder since they’d left Mike’s. This was good. This is good. She’s going to be fine. What if she wasn’t? No, fate couldn’t be this cruel. To have brought Lizzie back to him only to be snatched away. He wanted to weep, thinking of her in that root cellar, scared out of her mind. They’re coming for you, Lizzie. Just hang in there.
He couldn’t stand it. I must find her. I can’t sit here waiting. He reached for the car door handle.
Mike put his hand on his arm. “Don’t do it. They’ll take you down. They don’t want to risk you getting hurt. Tommy will get her.”
“I have to get out of this car at least.”
Sheriff Smith shook his head. “No. I’ll drive us closer.”
They drove slowly down the paved road. Once they reached the driveway, Sheriff Smith parked on the side of the road and answered his phone. “That’s great news. Thanks.” He turned to Grant and Mike. “They have the fire under control and are looking for the root cellar. Haven�
��t found it yet, though.”
“I know where it is,” Grant said. “It’s away from the yard about a hundred feet.”
The sheriff called the fire captain back. “I have a young man familiar with the property. He knows where the cellar is.”
The three of them set off on foot down the driveway. Rain mixed with the smoke and covered them. Grant didn’t care. He needed to find Lizzie. Everything looked perfectly normal until they reached the spot where the fire had spread. Charcoaled grass. Charred logs. The house and barn creaked and groaned. Little fires remained. Smoke filled his lungs and he coughed. Heat radiated from the charred house. His eyes stung. He wiped tears away. “This way.” He motioned to Mike and the sheriff to follow him.
He ran past the house and toward the hillside. What had it looked like exactly? The door had been almost completely overgrown with moss so that it blended into the hillside. No one would know a little room existed inside. That’s why weren’t finding it. Hang on, Lizzie. I’m coming.
Charred earth and plants made the path unrecognizable. He paused at the edge of the yard and looked both ways, trying to remember if they had gone left or right when Lola took them to see it. Left. He sprinted a hundred or so yards across burnt grass. There it was. The moss on the door looked singed like eyebrows too close to a flame. The fire had almost reached them. Had the cellar turned into a dirt oven? He tugged on the rope to open the door, but it was stuck like the heat had melted the rope. With a ferocious tug he popped the door open. It was too dark to see inside.
“Grant?”
“Yes, yes, it’s me.” He turned on the flashlight on his phone. “Lizzie? Lola?”
They sat in the dark holding hands and both started to cry at the sight of him.
“You remembered,” Lizzie whispered. “We got stuck. The door wouldn’t open. We’ve been screaming our heads off, but the fire was so loud.”
“Like a tornado,” Lola said. “We were certain this was it. The end.”
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