Walk Through the Fire

by Calle J. Brookes

  “I asked Powell about the letters you and your neighbors received.”

  “Basically, the city is trying to low-ball offer for your property, and it is customary to give sixty days’ notice. With the storm damage in this area, ninety days would have been more appropriate. Turner and I believe we can get you a better offer, closer to fair market value, by filing an injunction at this point.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that? Wouldn’t this be a conflict of interest for you?”

  She looked at him with those eyes of hers that demanded every answer. “It will be for me.”

  “But not for me. I’m not invested in the Boethe Street ventures. I tend to avoid this part of town like the plague. Personal history, not so great, but I’m willing to take this on pro bono,” his cousin said, her eyes on Annie. Turner knew she was trying to figure out Annie’s measure. Powell was like that sometimes.

  She didn’t like people that much.

  Turner sometimes thought they scared her. Not surprising after what had happened to her when she’d been twenty. It had happened not too far from where he stood.

  Boethe Street had its reputation, after all.

  “Why? What’s in it for you? Excuse me for being so blunt.” Annie’s little buddies, Jillian and Nikkie Jean, stepped up next to her. A silent wall of feminine support. “There has to be a reason.”

  “Simple. I hate greedy people. And this is greedy. And dirty. The city has already slashed the budget by allowing twenty-seven original properties to remain for now. They can afford to offer an attractive relocation package for the remaining five. That they aren’t—that’s pure greed. And it concerns me.”

  And Powell could be fierce when she thought someone was taking advantage of those less fortunate. Vulnerable.

  “I…I can’t fight any longer. I just don’t have the time.”

  Solomon wrapped his arm around her leg and glared at Powell. He was the most reserved of Annie’s three boys.

  “What about your neighbors? Would one of them be interested in fighting this? They’ve offered bare minimum amounts, Annie. You’re entitled to at least what the property is worth on the market. What they’ve offered you isn’t it.” He’d told her that the night before. But her mind had been made up. She was putting this behind her and getting through. Moving on.

  In Barratt county.

  “You should fight this,” Turner told her. “I’ll support you in any way that I possibly can.”

  She stared at him like she was trying to look deep into his soul.

  That’s what it was about her. Annie Gaines caused him to open his soul in ways no other woman ever had. Turner wasn’t sure how a man like him was supposed to deal with that. “Annie, just...don’t give up.”

  “I’m not. I’m being realistic,” she said firmly. “I have other things to think about besides this house. It’s just walls. The family I love has nothing to do with walls holding us in. This...this is my family behind me. And my friends.” A car pulled in across the road. Annie stopped speaking to watch the elderly couple climb out. A look passed over her face that he didn’t understand, especially when the older man waved at her. Annie waved back.

  And then she turned back to him. “They have no family at all. That’s Mrs. Henderson. She said she was your fourth-grade teacher, Turner. Gia has no family. The Bennetts don’t, either.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ok, now she’d lost him. But he remembered his fourth-grade teacher as being an extremely nice woman, who’d knit every kid in his class mittens for Christmas.

  “Someone...needs to fight for them, don’t they?” She looked around, right at the people surrounding her. “I should do this.”

  “It’s up to you,” Jillian said.

  “We’ll be right beside you no matter what, Ann. You know that,” Nikkie Jean said, a dark-haired toddler tugging at her jeans.

  “Then tell me what you have to say.” Annie handed her toddler over to Nikkie Jean. “Please, come inside. Everyone’s going to take a break for lunch soon, anyway. Jillian and Nikkie Jean were demanding lunch.”

  “Yum. Jalapenos,” Nikkie Jean said, pretending to nibble on the toddler. “Spicy.”

  Annie smiled, but there was sadness coated with determination in her eyes. Something was going on in that head of hers. Turner wished he knew what.

  Turner wanted to make it all go away. He wanted to be her hero, even though he knew that was beyond corny. But it was the truth. He wanted to make the world better for her. He followed her into her house like everyone else, practically lined up like ducks. Even Powell bobbed along behind him.

  Annie’s house was far too small for this amount of people.

  With all the boxes now on their way out the door, and half the furniture already loaded, he was able to see that the house was shabbier than he’d noticed the first time. But it was clean. Just old. Worn.

  But it smelled like her—vanilla and warmth. Comforting.

  There were framed photos still on her wall. Her, her sister, the children. Nikkie Jean. Izzie.

  Izzie, who he’d passed on the porch on his way in.

  The last thing he wanted was for Annie to lose her home. Or the money she’d invested in it. There had to be a way to fix this. A way to just pick up her house and put it someplace else.

  Turner froze as it sank in.

  Move the houses. Buildings could be moved. They were moved all the time. He would do it. Even if he had to swallow the cost himself. The last thing he wanted was for Annie to lose her home.

  He looked at Powell. She would know the specifics of what he would need to do. And how quickly he could make it happen. But first...they had to talk to Annie about getting fair market value for her home now. Just in case Turner couldn’t make this harebrained idea work.

  90

  “Do it. Ensure that the message is delivered.” Dennis Lee had studied all the angles. Taken into account what had been lost. One of his prime supervisors for his little side businesses had been busted two hours earlier. Dennis Lee was still reeling. He’d thought that angle was well-hidden. But that bastard Turner Barratt had one-upped him.

  And gloated about it on the news conference.

  It was the gloating Dennis Lee couldn’t stand. He never had been able to lose easily.

  This was more than just a child’s game, though. This was his life. Everything he’d worked for could come toppling down if Turner Barratt and his special little task force hit just the right domino.

  He looked at Collin. “We need him in office now. I don’t have time to worry about getting someone else in place. I plan to…in a few months, after things fall into place. But now isn’t the time. So just make sure our point is made.”

  He fully intended to get Barratt out of office one way or another. Either by removing him permanently, or by rigging the election. Jenny really wanted the seat. And it would be convenient for him to have her in that office.

  It would be another domino.

  But right now…he had other things he had to focus on. And Jenny needed time. She needed things to settle down, needed her divorce to be finalized, needed to heal from the loss of her nephew. Time.

  Dennis Lee was forcing himself to practice patience. It was a new skill he was learning, after all. Man was never too old to learn.

  “Loud and clear…sir.”

  Had that been a smirk in Collin’s eyes? Dennis Lee looked closer.

  Something was different about the boy. Something that had his hackles standing on end. “You having a problem lately, Collin? Anything I can help you with?”

  He deliberately laced his tone with a threat. Even though the boy was armed, he would understand.

  Dennis Lee didn’t brook with no sass from the men he paid to do jobs for him. He was the king of Boethe Street.

  Collin knew that. He just needed reminded. “Just see that it’s done. Tonight. I have big plans for tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it. Right away.”

  “Good. See tha
t you do. And Collin…this attitude you’ve been developing? Wouldn’t want me to think you were ungrateful for what all I’ve done for your…family…would you?”

  “Of course not. I will always be in your debt, Councilman Arnold. I’m well aware of what I owe you.”

  91

  She had just clocked out and been ready to head down to the daycare to grab the boys when the mayor of Finley Creek strolled into the ER and right up to her. He held out a hand to her.

  Annie took it before she thought. “What’s going on?”

  “Come with me.”

  “I can’t…the boys…I…”

  “Oh, go with the Mega-Hot Mayor!” Nikkie Jean said from beside her. She practically vibrated with excitement. Cherise, Courtney, Angie, and Wanda were all shamelessly watching every move Turner made. “Caine’s off tonight. We’ll take the boys.”

  “I thought his sister was bringing her two over?” Ari and the governor had a state function in Austin the next morning. They were dropping off their two children at Caine’s, then making the four-hour drive that evening. Nikkie Jean had been talking about her plans for the slumber party for two days.

  She liked having a niece and nephew, she’d said. And was super-excited that Caine had two more siblings with children in St. Louis. Nikkie Jean was surrounding herself with Caine’s family enthusiastically.

  “Exactly. The more the merrier.” Nikkie Jean shot her a look, one that told Annie she hadn’t forgotten what Annie had talked to her about that morning. About stopping the fear and taking risks. Nikkie Jean had understood exactly what she was saying. “I’ll take the boys tonight. Between Caine, Uncle Henry, and me there, that’s almost one adult per two kids. We can handle this.”

  “I…”

  “Please, Annie. I really need to show you something.” His hand was hot around hers. His darker blue eyes were beseeching. “Please?”

  In that moment, like an idiot, she’d probably agree to follow him just about anywhere.

  “Ok, so why am I here?” Annie looked around the huge plot of land. The creek the county had been named for ran right in front of her, less than three hundred feet away. It wasn’t a huge river, by any means. Maybe twelve feet across and four feet deep. It was actually beautiful. Almost idyllic. A slight breeze blew, taking some of the Texas heat with it. Some. Not a lot.

  Even with the rain drizzling around them, it was still hot out. Much too hot even for the thin overshirt and tank top she’d thrown on after changing out of her scrubs in the break room before Turner had spirited her away. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m going to put in the request that the city relocate your house and the remaining three. Harley Borlin will no doubt get a check from the insurance company for his.”

  Annie just gawked at him. “You’re serious.”

  “Very serious. It’s a workable solution. One that the city can afford, thanks to what happened to the other four houses in the storm. Insurance checks will cover the damages to them. That frees up some resources. We can move your home here. I thought…if you go across the river there—there’s a footbridge fifty feet behind those trees—and walk through the back acreage, you’ll come up right behind Jillian and Rafe. This land is actually owned by Barratt-Handley. Houghton has agreed to give the city a good deal. If you want it. There are other lots available throughout the town that the city can purchase or already owns.”

  “You didn’t have to do this.” Annie didn’t know what to think. He was so sincere. And it was obvious he’d put a great deal of thought into this. When he hadn’t had to.

  He’d wanted to do it—for her.

  A big piece of her heart broke off in that moment. And flew to him. She’d never get it back, and she knew it.

  Annie had just fallen a little bit in love with the man in front of her.

  Maybe a lot in love with him, actually.

  “I had to do something. I couldn’t let you lose everything you’ve worked for since you were a teenager. I just couldn’t.” He stepped over a small river of gravel and then reached a hand back toward her. “The front porch would face this way. You’d have to fence the backyard because of the water. At least until the boys are older. Then they could fish and swim in the river. It’s not that deep here. Perfect for picnics and things. There’s that tree there. It should be far enough from where they’d put the house. I could put a tree house there for your boys, if you wanted me to. I can build things, you know.” He shot her a grin. “I’m not just another pretty face.”

  “I know.” He was so, so much more than just a handsome man. Mega-Hot Mayor. One of the Garlic’s most eligible Finley Creek bachelors. A Barratt.

  But he’d always be just Turner to her.

  Annie slipped her arms around him. “Thank you. This…means the world to me. I don’t know what I plan to do about the house. I…like Lacy’s ranch and what it represents.”

  “If nothing else, let me move your house. Rent it out. Use the money from it for the boys’ college funds or something. I just…don’t want you to see it torn down.”

  “I know. You’re a good man, Turner Barratt. One of the best I’ve ever known.” She didn’t exactly have the words to express how she was feeling right then. So all Annie could do was show him.

  92

  Turner suddenly found his arms full of woman. He wasn’t complaining. He dropped his hands to her waist and lifted her closer. When he pulled back to breathe, all he could say was her name.

  He looked down at her. Her cheeks flushed. “You ok?”

  “Of course. This is probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

  “I…this…is separate from me and you,” he started slowly. “I had to fix this, as the mayor. As it was the right thing to do. But what I feel for you—”

  “It’s entirely separate. I understand that.” Annie shot him a look filled with hope and hesitancy. “I…am not very good at relationships. The last serious one I had was right around the time the boys were brought to me.”

  “What happened?” Turner wanted to know. He wanted to know everything that had shaped her into the person she was now.

  “He couldn’t deal with the sudden possibility of being responsible for three babies. And he wanted me to just tell my mother to deal with things herself.”

  “Why couldn’t you? I mean, how did you end up with the boys as young as you were?”

  “My mother threatened to have the case worker move my sister to make room for the boys. Unless I moved in and helped her care for and support them.” Annie wove her fingers through his as they headed toward two large boulders that bordered the creek. “I couldn’t let Josie disappear into the system. Or worse, be sent to a group home. My mother never officially adopted her. The per diem checks from the state were too much of an incentive for my mother not to. She threatened to basically ruin Josie’s life when she had just turned sixteen—so that she could have the check for the boys. Three small boys with some of the issues they had, have, had a greater per diem. I couldn’t let that happen, and they wouldn’t give Josie to me. Even as a fictive kin placement.”

  Turner wanted to curse. He could imagine a younger Annie, a younger Josie, and three small boys, all at the mercy of a cackling older woman. “So what happened?”

  “I had a great caseworker. She saw what was happening. I took the foster care classes as soon as possible. I was just legally old enough under state law. I was financially stable—barely, but enough. Over time, she just started listing me first on the paperwork. Then eventually my mother’s name got dropped. The caseworker recommended the boys for adoption after the process was completed. They have biological relatives in the state, but they are unable or unwilling to take the boys. And now they’ve been with me long enough that the judge should find in my favor. It’s just a matter of the final hearing now.”

  “I’m glad you have them. Glad they have you. They are wonderful kids.”

  “I was terrified. I had just basically left Izzie in the
lurch on rent to move back to the woman who was verbally abusive and neglectful. My mother’s not a nice person. I don’t want her to ever see the boys again. She knows that. I moved in, and that first night the caseworker put Syrus in my arms. He was only two weeks old when his first mother was killed in a car crash. He was so small, and he was mine. Seeley was only two and wasn’t even talking, and Solomon was three and barely. I’d met them once before, but that was it.”

  “Then you were responsible for them.”

  “Yes. I’ve loved them ever since.” She stopped walking and turned toward him. Turner paused, wanting to scoop her into his arms. “Any man I get involved with will need to accept that my first priority will always have to be them.”

  “Any man who loves you won’t have to be told. You are one hell of a mother, Annie-Belle Gaines, and I love watching you with your children. If you let me into your life, their lives, I will never do anything to hurt any of you. I just want to be with you. And if that means being with the boys too, then I will consider myself blessed beyond measure. Lucky to get to be a part of their world, too.”

  He leaned down to kiss her as a car drove by. Turner brushed her lips with his own, just wanting to taste her. The sound of the idling engine had him looking up.

  The big, black SUV had paused, right behind Turner’s Lincoln.

  The window rolled down, just like it would in a bad action movie. The barrel of a gun popped out.

  Turner was already moving. As the sound of gunshots echoed. Fire burned along his arm, and the force of the hit sent him reeling back.

  He turned and dove toward Annie. His tackle sent her to the ground behind the two boulders. It was all the protection they had.

  93

  He’d kept his body over hers. Until long after the SUV had sped away. Annie grabbed her phone, intending to call 911. Turner’s hand stopped her. She looked at him; that’s when she saw the rapidly spreading blood.