Welcome to Harmony

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Welcome to Harmony Page 24

by Jodi Thomas


  Hank’s Dodge came flying across the pasture at a speed that looked as if he were about to become airborne. He slammed on his brakes just in time to slide into the flower beds. A moment later he was out of the car.

  “We caught the burglar!” Davis yelled with pride. “Making off with two bags of plunder and your niece.”

  Hank stormed up the path and stopped in front of Alex. He placed his dirty, smoke-covered hand on the back of Saralynn’s head. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Sir Knight came for me when I called your phone.”

  That seemed to be all Hank needed to know. He moved toward Davis as Alex hurried Saralynn to the car. She had no idea what was about to happen, but she guessed the language wouldn’t be for children. Flipping on the radio, she made the little girl promise to stay in the car for a few minutes.

  Saralynn leaned against the armrest, looking too tired to answer.

  Alex covered her with a jacket and closed the door, then noticed Major Cummings sitting in Hank’s Dodge. As always, the woman seemed to be studying everything around her.

  Alex marched back to the men. Whatever Trooper Davis’s problem, they’d deal with it here and now. Whether he hated her being a woman in what most thought of as a man’s job, or loathed the whole county, she knew she could ignore his attitude no longer.

  Hank was nose to nose with Davis, demanding he take the handcuffs off Tyler Wright.

  Tyler stood, feet wide apart, head down as if it was taking all his effort to keep from falling over. Blood dripped from somewhere on his forehead into a puddle between his feet.

  “So you want me to just let him go after he tried to steal you blind and do God knows what with your niece?” Davis looked angry enough to shoot Hank for getting in the way. “You’re about as brain-dead as this sheriff who slept her way to—”

  Hank’s fists slammed into Davis so hard the man toppled backward, almost taking Tyler with him.

  “That’s it!” Davis said as soon as he could get to one knee. “I’m arresting you for assaulting an officer of the law. Turn around, Matheson, and lock your hands behind your head.”

  Hank didn’t move except to harden his hand into a fist. “Get off my land,” he said in a low, angry tone.

  Alex knew she had to do something. “Wait!” She pushed her way between the two men. “This is ridiculous.”

  Davis turned on her, but his words were for Hank. “I can’t believe anyone in this town even speaks to this woman, especially you. Don’t you know she’s the reason your best friend died? I should know, I worked with both Warren and his partner. I heard him talk about you, and after Warren died, I heard his partner talk about what he’d done that night with Alex while her brother was out on a back road getting killed.”

  Hank pulled back as if he’d been slapped. “You’re insane.”

  Davis smiled, sensing that his words hurt more than any punch could have. “Am I? Why don’t you ask her what she was doing when her brother was shot? Or better yet, who she was with. If she hadn’t begged Warren’s partner to stay behind and play, Warren would have had backup that night. He wouldn’t have been shot.”

  Davis pulled Tyler forward, no longer interested in dealing with the sheriff or the fire chief. He knew his words had wounded them both. “I’ve waited three years to file a formal complaint against you, Sheriff.” He said the last word as if it tasted dirty in his mouth. “I’ll have your badge, McAllen, and there’ll be an arrest warrant waiting for you, Matheson, when you finish with this fire. I wouldn’t be surprised if the folks in Harmony don’t run you both out of town.”

  Pushing Tyler down two steps, Trooper Davis froze as the major stepped forward and dumped the bag of toys out on the ground. “Interesting things for a man to steal,” she said in her calm way. “Toys and a small bag of medicine.”

  Alex watched confusion cloud Davis’s face. For the first time, he seemed to question his logic.

  “You’re arresting a man for saving a child’s life.” Major Cummings straightened to all of five feet two. “If you don’t remove those handcuffs, I’ll see that you not only are fired, but are also sued for every dime you have in retirement.”

  Alex swore the major smiled before she gave Davis his only out. “Now, Trooper, I suggest you get back to the roadblock and stay there. Sheriff McAllen will handle everything here without your assistance.”

  Davis growled. He could fight one of them, maybe two, but apparently they had decided to gang up on him. He jerked the handcuffs off Tyler. “You’re right. We’ve got bigger problems than petty theft to deal with.”

  He was gone before Alex could think of anything to say. She’d always thought she was a good sheriff, able to handle anything, but she’d just witnessed a master at work. She had a feeling Katherine Cummings could stand down an army and win.

  Major Cummings picked up the toys as Hank helped Tyler to the cruiser. When she finished her simple task, she said as calmly as a den mother, “Now, we get back to the crisis at hand. Sheriff, if you’ll take that poor man to the hospital, then drop the child off somewhere safe, I’ll go back to the fire with the chief and keep you posted.”

  “Chief,” the major said to Hank, “we’ve got a fire to put out. Set all else aside.”

  He nodded once and stormed back to his truck without looking at Alex.

  Katherine hurried to climb in before he drove back to the cloud of smoke at the same speed at which he’d driven home only minutes before.

  Chapter 45

  REAGAN WOKE TO SOMEONE POUNDING ON THE FRONT door. She slipped on her jeans, tucked in the T-shirt she’d been sleeping in, and ran down the stairs.

  Uncle Jeremiah was already there and fully dressed.

  Noah stood on the porch, looking only slightly better than he had the day before. He still had bandages and bruises everywhere.

  “This ain’t the hospital, son,” Jeremiah said. “I think you came to the wrong place.”

  Reagan moved around her uncle, who seemed to think at eighty-six he should start his comedy career. “What is it, Preacher? Noah wouldn’t be here if it weren’t something very important.”

  “The fire is spreading this way,” he said. “I came to warn you. You need to get out.”

  “I’m not leaving my land,” Jeremiah said, and turned back toward the kitchen.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Noah said. “I knew you wouldn’t listen to anyone.”

  Jeremiah turned back. “And you thought I’d listen to you, kid?”

  Noah shook his head. “No. I came to get Rea out. I can’t stop you from staying, but she needs to be somewhere safe.”

  She looked from Noah to Jeremiah. “I’m staying with my uncle.”

  “No, you’re not,” said both men at the same time.

  “I’m not leaving this land.” She widened her stance, as though she were willing to fight them both. “I stay and fight. Tell me what to do.”

  Jeremiah almost smiled. “That’s right. Trumans stay and fight, no matter what comes.” He’d never tried to tell her what to do and he wouldn’t start now.

  Noah took a long breath. “Then it’s settled. When the fires come, I’ll be standing right here beside the two most stubborn people in the world.”

  Jeremiah shook his head. “We’re not much of an army. An old man, a busted-up kid, and a girl. If I was the fire, I’d be real scared about now.” He reached for his hat and stepped around Noah.

  “Where are you going?” Reagan finally found her voice.

  “I’m going to the orchard and turn on the water. I saw the smoke at dawn and got both windmills pumping. If the fire makes it this far, it’ll try to burn down the orchard first. The irrigation system will have the ground good and wet in a few hours and if the fire comes too close, I’ll pull the water tank down and flood the place for a hundred yards around.”

  They watched the old man climb into his little cart. The old dog hopped into the passenger seat and they started off down the path to the orchard.
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br />   Reagan looked at Noah. “What do we do, Preacher? There’s got to be ways we can help besides just waiting.”

  “Turn on the water hoses. Wet down everything you can.” Noah stared at her. “Rea, if fire comes, it’ll hit those old evergreens and tall brush between here and the road. If we stay too long, we may not be able to get out.”

  “I’m staying,” she said. “What do we do next?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know much. I only had a few days of training, and most of it was on when to get out.”

  They moved outside. “I guess we round up buckets,” he said, “anything that will hold water, and old blankets. If we place them around the house and barn, maybe we can fight back when the grass catches.”

  Reagan looked around. “What about the trees?” The house was surrounded. Old elms dry from winter, brown vines of all kinds twisting around every pole and pipe, bushes years past needing to be trimmed. “If one of the trees falls on the house, it’ll burn. With the trees blocking us in, not even the fire truck can get to us.”

  Noah stared at the farm, not seeing the peace of now, but the horror that might come. “We got to make a wider circle. Not just the house, but all these trees around here.”

  She looked at the hundred-year-old elms circling the house with sheds and barns underneath them. Uncle Jeremiah hadn’t hauled off a piece of wood in thirty years. Even the new chicken coop had been built in front of the old one. “What do we do?” she whispered, realizing she was standing in the center of what had the makings of a huge bonfire.

  “I’m in no shape to hoe and we don’t have a tractor. I’m still thinking we leave.”

  “We do have a tractor, several. Can you drive one?”

  He nodded. “Easier than I can hoe or fight grass fires.”

  She helped him back into his truck and they drove behind the house, where Jeremiah kept his prized collection hidden away in a barn. Reagan didn’t have time to think about how the old man was going to react. “The keys are in the few that take keys. Pick which one you think will do the job and I’ll help you guide it through the doors.”

  Noah moved around them. “These are beautiful.”

  “Pick one!”

  Minutes later, they were turning over dirt in a wide row around the barn and house. Reagan rode with him, helping him with the gears as he drove one-handed and held his side with the other. If he was in pain, he never commented on it.

  One by one they circled the groupings of trees that had been planted by Trumans years ago. The dirt row they made scarred the earth. Reagan fought back tears, realizing that tomorrow morning, if there was a tomorrow morning at this place, Uncle Jeremiah wouldn’t be able to look out at this land and see it wild and untamed as his grandfather had. But, she reasoned, he’d have a porch to sit on.

  When the grounds around the house had five feet of dirt around it, Noah used another tractor to dig a trench and Reagan began filling it with water. The place was starting to look like a fortress surrounded by a tiny moat.

  “Should we go check on Uncle Jeremiah?” She could see the line of trees that ran along the boundary of Truman land and Matheson land. He might not care about anything but the orchard, but Reagan loved it all. Every inch. “Do you think he’s all right?”

  Noah shook his head. “He’s where he wants to be. I don’t think anything has ever mattered to him besides that orchard. He’s got the cart. If fire takes the trees, he’ll make it back here.”

  Chapter 46

  HANK FELT NOTHING BUT THE DULL ACHE OF NUMBNESS as he worked. He told himself to keep his thoughts on the fire and what to do next and not let any emotions about anything else surface.

  His land was burning as he watched. His niece could have died if she’d gone much longer without her medicine. Tyler almost got killed trying to save her, and at some point Trooper Davis would probably return the punch Hank had given him, plus some, even if he didn’t carry through on arresting Hank for assaulting an officer of the law.

  Hank couldn’t, wouldn’t think of any of that. He had a fire to fight. He planned to stay on point until he collapsed with exhaustion and they had to carry him off. Maybe then, he could sleep and forget the ugly things Davis had said about Alex. Maybe he could get the hurt in her eyes out of his mind.

  As Hank worked, the memories of his best friend came back. He could not remember a time when he hadn’t known Warren McAllen. They must have been in the church nursery together, probably fighting over the same toy. Hank remembered the summers spent riding horses and swimming. And then the college days when they roomed together and fought over almost every girl either of them dated. The hours they’d spent talking about their dreams and the problems at home. Warren had been the only person he’d ever totally trusted. Hank’s father was dead; his mother was always preoccupied with her work. Warren’s parents fought, and his dad spent most of his life on the road. As boys, they’d had each other to depend on. As men, neither ever doubted the other would be there when needed. Sometimes Hank swore he could still see Warren standing in his doorway holding two longnecks and asking if Hank had time to talk. Problems with work, or women, or family were shared, if not solved.

  He’d never had a better friend than Warren. Letting him go was the hardest thing Hank had ever had to do. If he could have traded his life for Warren’s that night on the bloody road, he would have.

  Don’t think, Hank almost screamed. Just fight the fire. Don’t think.

  He was barely aware of a hand patting him on the arm.

  “Hank,” Bob McNabb yelled over all the noise. “The major wants to see you.”

  Hank nodded and moved back away from the fire. He felt stiff, as if he’d turned into a tin man from the hours spent in the heat. He hurt in so many places they’d all blended together in a dull throbbing he barely noticed.

  He grabbed a bottle of water and moved to where she’d set up a table out of everyone’s way.

  Major Katherine Cummings looked up from a chart she’d been studying. “Chief,” she said.

  “Major,” he answered. “Don’t try telling me to stop.”

  She smiled. “I won’t waste my time. I just wanted to tell you that it looks like we’re finally winning. Unless the wind kicks up before three, we may have this fire under control by then. I’ve been in touch with the National Weather Bureau, and they predict a relatively calm day with a slight chance of rain. That may be the break we need.”

  Hank tried to relax the knots in his shoulders. “How much of my place will we lose by then?”

  “Half the grass and fences. One barn. All the trees along the breaks to the north. But we saved the house and grounds, thanks to your foresight.”

  “Half,” he said, thinking that he was barely keeping the place going when he had all his land. He’d have to buy feed to cover the grass he lost. With the price of cattle, he’d be lucky if he could hold out the winter.

  Any other time the news would have buckled his legs, but now it hardly registered.

  “You’ve been up and fighting thirty hours, Hank,” she said.

  He didn’t want to be told to quit. That word had never worked for him. “How’s Tyler Wright?”

  “Tyler?”

  “The man who saved Saralynn. Alex should have reported in by now. Is he all right?”

  Katherine frowned. “I haven’t heard.”

  “You know him?” Hank asked.

  “No.” She hesitated, as if trying to put a puzzle together but the pieces wouldn’t fit. “I know a different Tyler. A shy gentleman.”

  She looked down, and he was surprised to see her cheeks reddening as if she’d said more than she’d intended.

  Hank shrugged. “Beneath all that mud and blood was a knight, Major Cummings. A true knight. He very well may have saved my niece’s life.”

  “If you say so,” she answered. “All I saw was the mud and blood and . . .” She smiled and added, “The way your niece held on to that filthy man’s neck. I knew the minute I looked at her t
hat she was not being kidnapped.”

  Two more trucks from counties fifty miles away pulled up, and men moved in to relieve exhausted fighters.

  “I can take over here for one hour. You’ve already sent the original teams home to rest.” She glanced at his house in the distance. “Go take a shower and eat something; you’ll feel better. We’re holding the line here.”

  Hank had finally reached the point where he was too tired to argue. She was right; with the new men, she could hold the line. He tossed his gloves in the back of his truck and drove across dried grass toward home.

  Five minutes later, he climbed the outside stairs to his rooms, stripping off clothes as he climbed. By the time he reached his bathroom, all he had left to pull off was his jeans, and then without hesitating, he stepped into a cool shower.

  The steady stream of water had washed away all thought when he heard someone call his name. For a moment, he just stood beneath the water, unwilling to step out. Then he flipped the shower off and grabbed a towel as he opened the shower door.

  Alex was standing at his bathroom door staring at him.

  Hank didn’t bother to cover up. She’d seen all of him anyway. “What do you want?”

  “The major said you wanted to know about Tyler.” Hank dried off, waiting for her to speak or leave. He didn’t much care which. “What about him?”

  “The hospital put three stitches along his hairline where Davis slammed him into the concrete, and then they doctored a dozen deep scratches that will heal without stitches. He’s going to be fine.”

  “Good. I’m glad you got there in time to stop Davis. If I’d been alone he probably would have shot me.” Hank couldn’t believe he was talking to her as if nothing had happened. Maybe they were just both pretending Davis hadn’t made the comment about it being her fault Warren died.

 

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