by Nancy Hartry
How dare he! After all she and Yvette had been through! And what did he want? A shaft of moonlight projected onto the floor between the beds. He hesitated as if he was trying hard not to wake them. Whoever he was, if he came at her, she was going to propel him across the trailer and smash his head against the far wall. If he made one move on Yvette, God help him, because she was pumped.
Kerry shifted and the man froze. Maybe now’s the time I should scream my head off! Then he cleared his throat and the sound rippled through her computer brain, looking for a match. He put one foot in front of the other, stopping when the floor creaked.
Kerry watched him open the top drawer of Yvette’s dresser. There was a rustling sound, then a pause as he held something up toward the light and dropped it into his back pocket. Dammit. The one night I don’t pile on the door alarm. He paused again, bent down ever so quietly, and opened the bottom drawer of Kerry’s dresser. What is he doing? She felt a draft as he stepped back outside. The trailer shifted slightly on its tires and the door clicked shut. He coughed and this time she recognized the sound. It was Aubrey! Why the hell is Aubrey stealing from Yvette? Why was he going through our stuff? If he needs money, all he has to do is ask me for it.
Kerry’s stomach churned. Yvette had been right about Aubrey after all. She rolled over and smushed her face into her pillow, muffling her scream of rage and frustration. I should have stopped him.
Kerry managed some sleep, but in the early morning Aubrey’s betrayal hit her in the heart. None of her things were missing. If she mentioned the theft to Yvette, on top of the near collision, it might send her overboard; if she confronted Aubrey, he’d deny it and that would be the last she’d ever see of him. One minute, that was all she wanted. The next, she was desperate to talk to him. Why would he steal from Yvette? How could I be so wrong about him? She knew that if she told Matt or Didier that Aubrey had been in their room, they’d involve the fire boss and blow the whole thing up into such a big deal that Aubrey might get arrested. Although Rolf seemed to like Aubrey, he was so overprotective of his girls that, more than likely, he’d slug Aubrey in the face and they’d both go to jail. And there was another problem. Every time the pink lighter was mentioned in Aubrey’s presence, he stared Yvette down. If he was provoked by Mr. Sirois, he might accuse Yvette of starting the fire. I’m between a rock and a hard place, as Rolf likes to say. I should tell Yvette all about it, but I won’t.
Kerry checked in at the kitchen before breakfast prep.
“Where are you going?” asked Rolf.
“For a walk.” She brandished her cell phone. “You never know, I might get service. I’m a glass-half-full kind of person, stupid, I know.”
“Stick to the highway, it’s safer. And what are you thinking, wearing those short shorts? You look naked. And I don’t like that tank top. Your boobs stick out.”
“Really?”
“Nah, but your skinny little ass is hanging out of your shorts.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“If I was your mother, I’d tan your backside and chain you in your room. Speaking of your mom, here’s a pile of letters from her. She must be writing you two a day.”
“Thanks. Where’s that bear spray?” When he turned his back to search for it, Kerry fired the letters into the garbage, covering them up so no one would find them. “Thanks. All right, you worrywart, I’ll be back in an hour.”
At the bottom of the stairs Kerry started to stretch, but she was too self-conscious about her butt sticking up in the air, facing the camp. She loped down the lane, and by the time she’d reached the paved road she’d made up her mind. If Aubrey doesn’t tell me what he’s up to in the next forty-eight hours, I’ll do something about it. I swear it. I don’t have a choice.
CHAPTER 16
“I can’t believe it isn’t here,” said Yvette that evening.
“Did you say something?” Kerry was half in and half out of a romance novel, her fourth one this week, dumb but addictive. If Mom could only see her daughter, the ninety-percenter, now! There was something irresistible about the happy endings in these fairy tales for grown-ups. Who could argue with the appeal of a devilish rogue, a beautiful heroine, and everlasting love?
“My necklace, the one Papa gave me, is missing. It’s the one with the arrowhead, Papa’s good-luck charm from Newfoundland. It’s Beothuk—that’s an extinct native tribe—so it’s very rare. I always put it in the same place in my top drawer.”
Kerry was awake now. Aubrey must have taken the arrowhead necklace with the bear tooth. It wasn’t money he was after, but something sacred to native people. Because he wanted it? Or because he thought Yvette shouldn’t have it?
Yvette wrenched open the next drawer, and the next. “I took it off so I could get dressed up to go out with Matt, which was stupid, because if I’d been wearing the necklace maybe that airplane wouldn’t have come right at us.”
“Maybe.” Kerry wasn’t about to tell Yvette that her superstitions were silly.
Now Yvette was undoing every sock ball, searching each toe for her necklace. Then she started on her underwear. “Maudite marde!” she said. “Maman and I think that if Papa had been wearing his arrowhead, he wouldn’t have died. He’d have taken more time before he agreed to go with that drunken maudit fou of a pilot.” She pounded the wall so hard that Kerry thought she’d bash right through the fake paneling into the next room.
“It’s not here,” she moaned. “It’s because the stupid door won’t stay locked. I told Buzz-Off Harcourt something was going to happen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Report it to the fire boss. The thing should be in a museum.” She kicked the dresser drawers closed and turned to face Kerry. “I think it was Aubrey. I know it was Aubrey.” She ran a finger around her throat as if she were tugging on the leather thong. “Every time I wore it, he’d look at me like he wanted to rip it off my neck.”
“You never told me this before.”
“From the moment I met the guy, I didn’t like him,” said Yvette. “I don’t trust him.”
“Based on what?”
“My—what do you say, gut? First impressions matter with me, and I’m always right. When I think of Aubrey, I think, ‘Fire starter. Thief. Drunken—’ ”
“Indian chief? Sounds like a skipping song, Yvette. You can’t judge people so easily.”
“Hah! You are not objective. Everyone can tell you have the hots for him.”
Kerry pulled on her jacket. “I just have one question. What did you think of me when you first met me? Maybe you’ve changed your opinion somewhere along the line? Think about it.” She closed the door quietly, not waiting for a response, and leaned against the trailer, eyes closed, heart pounding. Aubrey, why’d you do it?
Kerry went looking for him and caught him rolling hose.
“Hey you! ‘From where does the thundercloud come with its black sacks of tears?’ Neruda wrote that.” Aubrey scanned the dusk sky, looking for evidence of rain. He didn’t need to say that he wished it would pour—without lightning, of course. He’d already said as much.
“Aubrey,” said Kerry, “I need to know something about a bad dream I had.”
“Okay, I’ll try to interpret.”
“The other night, while I was asleep, I was visited by a large black shadow.”
“Did it speak?”
“He had his back to me. I heard him sigh as if he bore the weight and misery of the generations that had come before him.”
“Was it in the form of an animal?”
“A man. A man who unlocked doors and drawers.”
Aubrey cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. She studied his face intently. “It felt so real, until a stranger arrived asking for help. A native person with an amulet around his neck on a leather thong, and he kept twisting and twisting and twisting until he was hanging from the ceiling of our trailer.”
“Someone was fighting for his breath, his very destiny,” said Aubrey. “Hanging
between life and death.”
“Really? Maybe my unconscious mind was just worried about Yvette losing her necklace. I have second sight, you know. From my Irish grandmother.”
Aubrey squeezed her hand. “Let it go.” He chucked her under the chin, trying to force her to look at him. “Kerry, you made me a promise. Trust me that there’s an explanation.”
She dropped her eyes and walked away, more confused than ever, and with no answers. How can I trust you? I made up a crazy story that practically told you I saw the whole thing, and you still won’t be straight with me.
CHAPTER 17
L ater that evening, Kerry charged up the steps of the trailer.
“Yvette, I didn’t think you’d be in. How was your date with Matt?”
Yvette didn’t look up from a dog-eared copy of Vogue Paris.
So it’s going to be like this again, Kerry thought. She must have seen me talking to Aubrey, and now I get the silent treatment. Well, two can play at that game. She grabbed a towel and fresh underwear.
“I’m going to the sauna, want to come?” Predictably, there was no answer, but she could see that Yvette was dying to say, “Don’t go alone.” I expected her to say something about Aubrey by now. She must really hate me.
Kerry stopped by the kitchen. “Rolf, I’m hot and sweaty and my hair could get up and walk away by itself, it’s that stinky. If I’m not back from the sauna in an hour, send in the cavalry.”
The sauna was as dark as it was warm. She remembered to flip the sign on the door to indicate that it was occupied. She threw a saucepan of water on the stove and watched a cloud of steam sizzle toward the ceiling. She placed her towel over the wooden bench and sprawled naked on her back, her arm covering her eyes, yoga-breathing deeply in and out through her nose until she was aware of her breathing and her pulsing heart and nothing else.
“It’s only me,” Yvette called from the changing room. A cool draft accompanied her as she settled higher on the bench, closer to the ceiling, where it was hotter. “Warm enough for you?”
Kerry grunted in agreement. She dozed, then awoke with a start to acrid smoke irritating her nose and burning her eyes. “I’ve had enough. I’m going.” She thought she heard Yvette mumble something. She placed a wet towel over her head and walked through the steam, arms out, like a sleepwalker. She felt along the doorframe, found the door to the dressing room, and shoved it open. The air was cooler here and she gulped fresh air into her lungs. How could Yvette stand it in there? She shimmied the towel up and down her back, over her butt, and down her legs. On the return trip, she looked up toward the ceiling.
“Oh, God!” The entire roof was in flames!
“Yvette! Fire! Fire!” Kerry screamed in her head, but no sounds came out of her mouth. For priceless seconds she was rooted to the floor, paralyzed. Then she hop-footed into her underwear and tugged on a flannel shirt, her mind going in slow motion. I can’t be naked with all those guys out there. She grabbed a T-shirt and wrapped it around her mouth and nose. Coughing, bending low, she yanked open the door to the sauna and ran toward the benches. Yvette was lying on her back, a towel thrown over her face. Kerry slapped her arm, her face. “Come on, Yvette. Wake up. Wake up!” But Yvette lay limp and unconscious.
She put her arms under Yvette’s armpits and dragged her off the risers, bumping her body down the stairs like a sack of potatoes. She hauled her through the dressing room and dropped her at the outside door. She tugged the handle with both hands but she couldn’t budge the door. Yvette must have wedged it shut to keep the guys out. Please, God, let me get it open. She tried to kick the wedge sideways with her bare foot, but only managed to shove it farther in.
“Help! Help!” She pounded on the door. She screamed and tugged and pounded with all her strength, until the door suddenly burst open. Cool air rushed in, and the flames flared brighter with the fresh oxygen.
Kerry staggered outside and fell to her knees as Slash muscled by her. He lifted Yvette’s slumped body and started to run toward the first aid building, all the while yelling at staff to set up the fire pumps. Kerry stumbled after him, inhaling the night air and coughing. The smoke was so thick she could barely see, but she was aware of bodies hurtling by her. She looked back to see the sauna engulfed in flames, sparks spitting against the black sky. She heard the ping of shovels hitting rock, the rush of water from a hose, and the chug, chug of a pump. Mr. Sirois was silhouetted against the flames, shouting orders, his arms swinging, like a policeman directing traffic. The next thing she knew, someone scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. It’s only Rolf. She let her body and her mind go limp.
CHAPTER 18
Y vette coughed and gasped for air. “Kerry, turn off the stove; something’s burning. Kerry?”
Kerry mopped Yvette’s forehead with cool water. “I’m right here; everything’s fine.” She adjusted the crisp, cotton hospital sheet across Yvette’s chest.
“Like a pig’s arse, it is!”
“Shhh, Rolf. Don’t upset her.”
“Is he mad? Did I burn the toast again?” Yvette’s voice was barely audible above the hissing of oxygen from the clear plastic mask covering her mouth and nose.
“I’m not sittin’ around here. I’m going to find the guy who did this.” Rolf squeezed Yvette’s hand and left the first aid building. Didier took his place. He smoothed Yvette’s sheet, took her pulse, wiped the hair from her eyes, all in one motion.
“Is she going to be okay?” Kerry could hardly get the words out.
“She has a guardian angel, this one. Some smoke inhalation, a bit of bruising, and a twisted ankle. I’m in touch with the emergency doctors at Dryden hospital and they want her kept here overnight. We can airlift her if we need to, if she gets worse.”
“You know she’ll only go with Matt.”
“Then Matt it is.” They sat quietly, watching Yvette’s chest rise and fall.
“And how are you doing?” Didier asked.
“I think someone is trying to kill us.” It was out before she had formulated the thought.
For once, he didn’t laugh at her. “All sorts of near misses happen in the bush. You can’t dwell on the ‘what might have beens’ or you’ll drive yourself nuts. Do you want to stay here tonight? I can make up a cot for you.”
Tears welled up in Kerry’s eyes. The nicer Didier became, the worse she felt.
“You’re okay; the shock is catching up with you. If you want a note so you can go home to your mom and dad, I can arrange it with Harcourt. I’ll suggest you need stress relief, and it won’t affect your employment record.”
She didn’t speak for a long time. “Thanks, Didier, but I could never leave Yvette. Especially now.”
“Can I go back to our trailer?” Yvette croaked.
“No, we need to keep our eyes on you,” Didier told her. “Actually, we should tie a rope around you.”
“Very funny.”
Kerry watched him calmly and efficiently ice Yvette’s ankle and elevate it on a pillow. “How’s that feel?”
“Fine, except now I’m freezing.”
Kerry thought he was going to lean over and kiss Yvette’s forehead, but instead he covered her up.
“It’s none of my business, Yvette, but if you want to get out of here I can talk to Sirois and tell him you should be put on medical leave. He’d give you your walking papers, I’m sure of it.”
“And miss all this excitement and overtime?” She coughed and tried to clear her throat. “No, no. I can’t leave Kerry here on her own. Never going to happen.”
“Maybe it’s time you both left. Think about it, girls, because frankly, the fire boss isn’t thrilled with either of you. You seem to attract trouble. Besides, it’s an open secret that Kerry’s afraid of the bush.”
“She’s learning. But okay, we’ll think about it.” Yvette yawned. “Did you drug me, Didier?”
“Hey, there are limits to my powers as a first-aider, super-qualified as I am.” He put a finger to his li
ps and whispered, “Something from my personal stash, to make you sleep. Want some, Kerry?”
She shook her head.
“M-mmmmm, I like it.” Yvette yawned again. “Kerry, are you there?”
Kerry reached over and took her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 19
T he evening after the sauna fire, Kerry sat around the empty firepit with the rest of the kitchen help, waiting for Mr. Sirois to speak to the entire staff. She remembered another firepit, and a dance with Aubrey. What had possessed him to dance with her? Had he felt sorry for her because she was so quiet? Or because she was an outsider, like him?
“In deference to the lady, I’ll clean up my language. Shut the hell up so we can get started,” Harcourt said.
Kerry looked at the ground, silently cursing him for singling her out like that. She already felt small and lonely surrounded by three hundred men. Slash edged closer to her on the log they were sitting on as Harcourt introduced Mr. Sirois. “As if we don’t already know who he is,” he whispered.
“I need eyes and ears out there,” the fire boss boomed. “Another hot spot started today in this quadrant.” He whacked the flipchart with his pointer. “It’s remote from the epicenter of the fire and the weather has been good, with no indication of lightning.” He mopped his head with a handkerchief. “We’ve evacuated all the homes, trailers, and camps in this entire sector. There’s no one left out there, as far as we know. So I’m asking you, because you’ve been out there—either flying or bulldozing or backburning. What’s going on? Who could have set this new fire? We think it’s the same guy.”
Kerry closed her eyes, trying to be invisible. Give me a break. Are they going to try to blame these new ones on Yvette?
“Could it have been a campfire?” asked Didier. “Maybe somebody hiked in from outside?”