Wildfire and Roses

by Hope Malory

  “My family, my home, and my business.”

  “Mom’s favorite quote, ‘Home is where the heart is,’ applies here. Yours is with Will. Sweetie, Brenner is an adult. No need to worry about her anymore. The airlines can fly you here whenever you want. As for the business, despite the spike in sales this week, the loss took you back to where you started two years ago. Why not sell and start something in California?”

  “I’m not a quitter, and I don’t give up because of a setback. New contracts will start coming in, and revenues will be up in the spring.”

  “Make sure that is what you want.”

  What she wanted was her business, she wanted to stay in Azalea Valley, and she wanted Will. The problem was, she couldn’t have everything.

  ~ ~ ~

  Millie was right, she had been in an atrocious mood since Will had left. They’d texted a few times during the week, but she wanted to talk to him. I’ll call him tonight.

  Not a single customer came after noon. Her assistant could handle the office without her. Needing a break from her concern about the business, she cleared her desk and closed her door.

  “Millie, I’m going to take off and go to the mountains. They are my place to think.”

  “Excellent idea.” Millie took her glasses off and sent her a pointed stare. “Sweetie, you had to be strong your whole life. I can’t imagine how demanding life has been for you. You’ll do the right thing.”

  What is the right thing?

  Beasley drove home, changed her clothes, and headed for the mountains. The continued lack of rain had fueled the spread of the forest fires, but the single evidence in Azalea Valley was a haze from the smoke visible throughout the region. None of the fires had reached any residential and commercial areas, but the situation was becoming more urgent by the day. The latest fire was much closer. The local firefighters had worked around the clock to contain it.

  She hiked to her preferred spot. Despite plumes of smoke in the distance, no matter how many times she saw the view, it never grew old. This was where she and Will had had the discussion about a relationship. Both insisted they didn’t want to move, so how could a relationship lead to a positive outcome? Was Millie right? Her heart was with Will. But she couldn’t give up on her business, could she? She gazed up toward the sky and said, “Mama, I so wish you were with me now to give me advice. I don’t know what to do.” Tears clouded her vision. She lingered for a long time before returning to her car.

  As soon as she entered the house, she picked up her cell, clicked on Will’s name, and punched the FaceTime icon. After the second ring, his face appeared on the display.

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  “I needed to hear your voice and see your face.”

  “I’m glad you did, because I need to see you too. The guys accused me of being grumpy, and it’s all because I miss you.”

  She laughed. “Millie alerted me I’ve acted like a bitch since you left.”

  “Tell me about your week.”

  By the end of their conversation, her spirits had lifted.

  She reached into her desk drawer for a notepad and found the article about Grainger Devlin’s suicide. Between Will’s visit and her attempt to kick-start sales, she hadn’t thought about his death since Bradley had referred to it at Thanksgiving. The investigation had come to an impasse. The chances of her great-aunt knowing something were slim. She had planned to wait until she visited Jacqueline to broach the topic, but that seemed silly now. Might as well ask before putting the whole issue behind us.

  She punched in the phone number.

  “Aunt Jacqueline, this is Beasley.”

  “Well, hello, dear. This is a lovely surprise.”

  “How are you?”

  “Not bad for an old lady.”

  She laughed. “You’ll never be old.”

  They talked for a while before Beasley mentioned the Devlins and asked Jacqueline if she knew them.

  The pitch of Jacqueline’s voice rose almost imperceptibly. “Everyone knew the Devlins were prominent in the social world in the late seventies and early eighties. Why do you ask?”

  She disclosed to Jacqueline what they’d found. “Are you aware of a connection between the Devlins and Nonna?”

  “Sorry, dear. I never met them. Why don’t you come for a visit? Ormond Beach is mild in the winter.”

  Hmm, not what I asked, and she changed the subject. She let it go for now. “Brenner and I planned to come in the spring, but since business is slower, I can come sooner.”

  “Come as soon as you can. I enjoy your visits, and I miss those beautiful faces.”

  Did she avoid answering, or was it my imagination? Why would she not tell me if she knew something? She would mention it again when she went to Florida. If she didn’t find out anything then, she would forget the whole thing.

  Chapter 23

  The brisk business from the previous week had ebbed on Friday, and Monday was no better. If this continued, she couldn’t afford to keep Beasley’s Gardens open. She had cut costs as much as she could, and her sole option might be to close the business for the winter. It was something to consider. With that in mind, in the midafternoon, she recorded a new voice mail message, put the closed sign on the front door, slipped the laptop into her bag, and sent the few remaining workers home. Perhaps she could try opening fewer hours a day. The hourly workers wouldn’t be happy, but it would be better than shutting down for two or three months.

  Since Brenner was with Tony, she had hours of uninterrupted time to search the fiscal files for other options.

  By ten o’clock, her eyes were bleary from staring at screens full of numbers. After going through her nightly ritual, she went to bed disheartened by the lack of possibilities.

  She jerked when a siren woke her from a dead sleep. The clock illuminating the otherwise darkened room displayed two o’clock. She turned over and yanked the blanket over her shoulders. As she drifted into a half sleep, her cell rang.

  Now wide awake, she lurched up to a sitting position, knowing a call at this time of the morning couldn’t be good news. In the darkness, she fumbled for the switch on the bedside lamp and climbed out of bed to retrieve her phone from the dresser. Unfocused, she stubbed her toe on the bench at the end of her bed. “Shit!”

  The display revealed her assistant was calling. Had something happened to her? To her husband? Was an ambulance on the way to her house?

  “Millie? What’s wrong?”

  “Sweetie, Beasley’s Gardens is on fire.”

  Beasley gasped, her right hand flying to her chest. “Are you sure?” Her heart rate skyrocketed. This can’t be happening.

  “Yes, my cousin works at the fire department. He knows I work there and called.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  She felt the blood draining from her face.

  After throwing her clothes on, she woke Brenner to tell her before she snatched her keys and sped to the Jeep. The tires screeched when she slammed her foot on the gas pedal. The haunting sounds of Sarah McLachlan drifted through the radio speakers as she drove toward her business.

  Visible from blocks away, flames shot into the air. “No, no, no!” She banged on the steering wheel and punched the gas pedal harder, running two red lights through town. After skidding into the parking lot and jerking the gearshift into park, she flung the door open and raced toward a firefighter. Fire had decimated the main office and still smoldered. Blazes tore through several other buildings that housed plants and equipment.

  Disbelief. Panic. Despair. Was this what an out-of-body experience felt like?

  A firefighter was spraying the raging fire in one of the rear structures when a small explosion occurred. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, with
men yelling and running; it was as if she were watching a mass destruction movie. Firefighters had scrambled to outrun the blaze when the building exploded, and the men now struggled to douse the flames. Little remained, and the fire still raged. She screamed and threw her hands over her face.

  “Ma’am, you need to move back.”

  “I’m Beasley McLemore, the owner of Beasley’s Gardens.”

  “Sorry, but you need to leave the area.”

  Millie drove in and parked beside her, followed by Brenner. They flanked her and led her toward her vehicle. Her fingers touched her parted lips as she stared at the scene. Her dizziness prevented her from thinking clearly. They were talking to her, but she couldn’t grasp what they were saying. Her knees buckled. Brenner grabbed her before she went down. Millie opened the door and helped her into the front seat. Beasley wrapped her arms around herself and whispered, “What will happen now?” Teardrops seeped from the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Brenner slid in beside her and held her close.

  Blake wheeled in beside them, scattering gravel when he jerked to a stop. He jumped out of his truck and got into the back seat. “I’m sorry, sis. What can I do?”

  She shrugged but couldn’t speak. Brenner must have called him. It was comforting to have her family around.

  The clock on the dash showed fewer than thirty minutes had passed since she had arrived, but it seemed like hours. The man who instructed her to move away now approached her. He removed his helmet, gloves, and parka. His massive muscles strained the sleeves of his T-shirt. He was younger than he looked in his full uniform, maybe in his early twenties. “I’m sorry, Ms. McLemore. We did our best, but it was too late by the time we got here.”

  “What happened? Do you know what triggered it?”

  “The wildfires, ma’am. A new fire broke out in the mountains. With high-speed wind gusts, the flames swept through toward the edge of town, and we couldn’t contain them. They roared through faster than we could put them out.”

  “Were any homes or other businesses damaged?” Blake asked.

  “A cabin further out burned to the ground. Believe me, we are doing everything we can to keep it from residences and the central part of town.”

  She cringed when she visualized the fire spreading through Azalea Valley. The town center was under a mile away from Beasley’s Gardens.

  The firefighters worked feverishly to suppress the flames until they extinguished them. The aftermath of the fire warmed the cool January air, yet she shivered. Acrid fumes assaulted her nostrils and blurred her vision.

  In a compassionate tone, Blake said, “Let’s get you home. There’s nothing else we can do. You can ride with me, and I’ll bring you here for your Jeep another time.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can drive.” She glanced at the scorched ruins of what was once her lifeblood.

  Blake got out of the back seat, opened her door, held out his hand, and said, “No, ma’am. You are riding with me. And I’m staying at the house tonight.”

  She knew the look of determination in her brother’s eyes and knew it would do no good to argue. Taking his hand, she got out and followed him to his truck.

  Brenner followed them home and made some hot chocolate. “None of us will get any more sleep.”

  Thoughts swirled through Beasley’s mind. She had lost everything. What about the employees? The distressing realization hit that they would all be out of a job until she rebuilt. How long would reconstruction take? Some wouldn’t be able to wait and would try to find jobs elsewhere. And she would have no income. Her insurance policy would pay for replacement costs, but not expenses. She stood to go to her desk.

  “What are you doing?” Brenner asked.

  “I’m making a list of things to do.”

  “Not now. You have just been through a terrible shock. There will be plenty of time to do that later. Come sit with us, and we can talk or not. You can yell or throw things, just not at me.”

  Beasley’s smile was thin, but at least she smiled. “You know I always have to be in charge.”

  “As your older brother, I’m in charge now. Some things you can’t control. This is one of them.”

  Brenner added, “In the morning, I’ll call the studio and take the day off to help you with whatever you need me to.”

  They huddled together on the sofa, and in time, they all fell asleep.

  Day emerged, and the sun streamed through the windows. Eyes glazed with agony, Beasley shrieked and bolted upright, waking Brenner and Blake. “I’m sorry. It was a dream. About the fire.”

  Brenner stretched and yawned. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go take a long, hot bath and relax while I make us some breakfast?”

  “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that. You guys are the best. I love you both.”

  “We love you too. Now scoot.”

  Her head throbbed. She couldn’t be aching more if she had run a marathon. Tension permeated her entire body. The hot water eased the tightness. Tears leaked from her eyes as the images of the violent fire ripped through her mind. For now, I will allow myself a pity party, but then I have to tackle the problem. There was a lot to do.

  While they ate bacon, eggs, and biscuits, they made a list of people whom she wanted to inform. The calls to the staff would be the hardest. They were like family. Now she had to tell them there was no job to go to. Some already knew about the fire through other people and the media.

  After she completed the calls, Beasley turned to her brother and sister. “I need to go back to see everything.”

  “Sure. I’ll take you whenever you’re ready,” Blake said.

  “I want to go now.”

  The three of them hopped into Blake’s truck. Relief washed over Beasley when they passed through town and found it untouched from the devastation they had witnessed a few miles away last night. When they reached the site, she choked up.

  The fire had ruined the property and surrounding landscape, the building, the equipment, and the plant stock.

  She scanned the blankets of ash, taking in the complete annihilation. The flames died out, but threads of smoke still spiraled around remnants of scorched wood left from what had once been her business. Somehow, she must be resilient and come to grips with the loss.

  The three of them inched their way around, avoiding broken glass and other post-fire hazards, looking for anything salvageable from the piles of rubble. They found a blackened tin cup and a picture frame from her office. Most of the equipment was now seared metal scraps. Shards of clay pots and remains of soggy roots from the larger trees were the only evidence of the once-tree-filled lot. The fire had left nothing untouched; it had felled everything in its path. Beasley tripped on a scorched tree limb and felt herself going down. She willed herself not to, and with Blake’s quick reflexes grabbing her arm, she stayed on her feet.

  “Let’s go. I can’t bear to look at this anymore.”

  They agreed and stayed beside her as they made their way to the truck.

  Brenner drove her Jeep to the house.

  After returning home, Beasley reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew her phone. “Kate, Casey, Will, our brothers, and Aunt Jacqueline will want to know.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Bradley, Baxter, and Benjamin,” Blake offered.

  She would be at loose ends here during the rebuilding process. It would be the perfect time to go to Florida for a visit. She needed the time away and distance from this nightmare to reexamine her life and try to figure out what to do next. She missed her parents and Nonna more than ever now. Time with Aunt Jacqueline might help.

  As soon as the insurance company opened, she called them. Her next call was to Will. He understood the chaos that a fire caused, and his soothing voice calmed her. He always said the right thing to make her f
eel better. Her body relaxed as they talked. Will reminded her they had lost no lives, and she was thankful for that.

  When she called Jacqueline, her response was, “I can book a flight for you and Brenner tomorrow if you want to come now.”

  “Of course I do, but I have a ton of work to do here. How about next week?” Getting out of town and away from all the problems, going to Jacqueline’s condo, and walking by the ocean sounded wonderful. This would be her third trip to Ormond Beach. The first had been with her mother and Brenner soon after her great-aunt had moved there.

  Blake was outside taking care of some projects he had promised to complete. With Brenner’s help, Beasley had taken care of most of the items on her list. After answering her ringing phone, she mouthed to Brenner, “The insurance company.”

  As she listened, her muscles tensed again, and she dropped into the nearest chair. “There must be some mistake.” Her heartbeat thundered in her chest while the representative explained. “How can that be?” After she ended the call, she put her head in her hands. “Damn.”

  “What now?”

  “I’m screwed. The agent said I’m underinsured. Their payout won’t come close to what I will need to rebuild.”

  “But how?”

  “Honestly, I was so busy growing the business, I didn’t think to increase the coverage. The accountant paid the bill, and I didn’t see it. The agent informed me it was underinsured when I purchased the business.”

  “Shouldn’t they have notified you or Rhoda?”

  “They said they contacted her, but she didn’t mention it to me. During the investigation of the records, I learned she’d let a lot of things slip. Some of it appeared to be on purpose, passive-aggressive. Now I believe she wanted me to fail. I can’t put all the blame on her, though, because this was my responsibility. How could I let this slide?”