Love Reimagined (Kings Grove Book 2)

by Delancey Stewart

  “Mom—” I was beginning to worry about her.

  “I’ll just figure out the most efficient way for you to wrap our house. It’ll help tomorrow when the Forest Service comes around this way.”

  I just nodded and let Mom do her thing. Once I’d told her everything I knew about the FireZat wrapping we’d been using all day, I excused myself to take a long hot shower and go to bed. I pulled on a pair of comfortable jersey pants and my favorite 49ers jersey and climbed into the steel-framed bed beneath the quilt my grandmother had made for it when I was a kid.

  These things around me, these things I’d always taken for granted—they’d been part of my entire life, and they’d been here, in these mountains, for years before I’d arrived. My family had been here since 1925, and I couldn’t believe there was a chance this might be the end of it. I pulled the familiar soft old quilt up around my chin despite the heat, and stared at the rafters over my head. Whorls of knots marred the wood between the eaves of the roof, and I could see individual nail heads where my grandfather had pounded them in when he’d expanded the original structure.

  This was my home—the only one I’d ever known. And this place, and all the people in it… I had no idea what I’d do without them.

  As I drifted into sleep with the almost foreign sound of rain pelting the roof, the Palmer brothers took their places front and center in my mind. I’d often gone to sleep thinking of blue gray eyes and a perfect smile, but usually the owner of those assets in my mental image was Chance. Tonight Sam stood beside him, and confusion accompanied the usual longing I felt.

  What on Earth was happening to me?

  Chapter 19

  Sam

  I watched Miranda’s tail lights disappear down the village road and stood in the drizzling rain for a solid ten minutes staring after her.

  What the hell had I gone and kissed her for? Now she was doing her very best to avoid even looking at me. The rest of the day had been almost perfect—if you didn’t count the threat of an all-consuming wildfire likely to destroy everything I’d ever known along with the homes and lives of everyone I loved. But I wasn’t counting that.

  Despite the threat of total destruction, the biggest thing on my mind was Miranda. Her bright blue eyes. Her long blond hair. Her self-conscious smile and vivacious laugh. She was like a little slice of perfection I wanted to capture and keep for myself. Like a photo of something beautiful I wanted to be able to look at whenever I felt sad.

  But the feeling wasn’t mutual.

  Was it?

  When I’d given in to everything my body was screaming at me to do and kissed her, it had felt right. It hadn’t been awkward or forced. Her arms had slid around my neck, the delicious feel of her skin on mine was like a brand seared into my soul. And she’d pressed herself into me and returned the kiss—the memory of it lit my entire body on fire and I had to work hard to keep certain things from responding too enthusiastically as I relived it in my mind. She had been right there. In the same place I was. The same state of mind. I hadn’t imagined it. I hadn’t forced her to kiss me.

  Had I?

  I shook my arms, loosening the knots forming in my neck and shoulders and turned slowly back toward the office, where Chance’s truck was still parked outside.

  “Hey,” I called as I entered.

  Chance glanced up from his desk and then cocked his head to the side. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, you know. Devastating wildfire threatening everything we love. The usual.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You look weird.” He stood up from his desk and walked around it, crossing his arms. “Weirder than normal, I mean.”

  “Ass.”

  “Quit stalling.”

  I hated that Chance had always been able to read me. “Just a rough day. Wrapping cabins with that foil that’ll probably just make the fire take five minutes longer to destroy them all.”

  “So optimistic.”

  “Where were you all day? I thought you’d come out and help.”

  Chance nodded. “I was on my way, but Mr. George recruited me to take a bobcat back out to help clear some more debris. I’ll come out and help tomorrow. I don’t know if there’s any point.”

  “Any point?” I stared at him incredulously. “Now who’s being optimistic?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s so much shit on those hillsides it kind of seems inevitable that it will burn. If not in this fire, then in the one that comes next year or the year after. Maybe it’s time we start looking at plan B. Move Palmer officially to the valley and be done with it.”

  “Done with Kings Grove?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Let’s think about it. Maybe once we take all the equipment down, we just keep it down there. We’ve got clients down there. Might make more sense to stay there. More business anyway.” His voice was thin and I could tell my brother was as tired as I was. Dirt smeared one of his cheeks and his hair was standing practically straight up. And he still looked good, the jerk.

  “It’d be weird to leave. We’ve always been here…” I had no idea why I was saying this now, when this very thing had been on my mind over the past months. Hell, I’d been planning to leave.

  “Things change,” he said.

  That was true, but when I’d thought about leaving before, I’d always believed there’d be something to come back to here. The idea of the Palmer family pulling up stakes for good and moving to the city was hard to wrap my head around. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and grabbed the keys to my truck. “Heading home?”

  “Yeah, I’ll ride with you.” Chance locked the office behind us and we drove slowly home through the sprinkling rain. Suddenly, every familiar rock and pothole took on a new meaning to me. Would I be leaving it all behind soon? I pulled up to the old two-story house and saw it as it was for maybe the first time ever. It was old and worn. The shingles were cracked in some spots and the roof could use replacing. The big open deck that spanned the front needed a new coat of stain and the shed out back was leaning dangerously. In the process of updating everyone else’s homes, we’d let ours deteriorate. Once Dad was gone, it just hadn’t felt much like something we wanted to preserve, I guessed.

  We moved around each other inside, two bachelors way too used to our routines, our quiet lives. Maybe change was exactly what we both needed. How many twenty-five year olds lived with their older brothers, anyway? And I was pretty sure Chance didn’t need to be living with his little brother.

  I went to bed that night thinking about starting a new life in Sacramento and wondering what it might be like. And as hard as I tried to imagine myself happy in a new place, there was one thing that kept pulling me back to Kings Grove, one person without whom I wasn’t sure the word “happiness” held much meaning. Miranda.

  The rain didn’t last. By the time we were shoving gear into the truck and heading into the office just after dawn the next morning, the sky was smoky again and the wind was blowing through the treetops, eerie and forlorn.

  “Feels like Armageddon,” Chance said as we rode through the village. Many of the cabins were deserted. Some were weekend homes anyway, but even those where our neighbors lived year round stood silent and waiting, their occupants having gone elsewhere until the fire had passed. We drove down the line of foil-wrapped structures that would be on the leading edge of the fire if it came over the hillside, and I couldn’t help staring at the big stump where Miranda and I had sat the day before, where I’d held her in my arms after so many years of wishing for it. Where I’d finally gotten to kiss the girl of my dreams. And where she’d then stepped away and acted like it had been a huge mistake and refused to even mention it for the rest of the day.

  Maybe it had been a mistake. In her eyes at least. Maybe she’d been caught up in the enthusiasm of the moment—it was raining, for chrissakes—and I’d just been the closest thing to the man she really wanted nearby. It had been a long exhausting couple of days. Maybe she had just needed a hug. />
  I shook my head, trying to clear it of all the ways Miranda showed me I wasn’t what she wanted.

  “What’s going on in there? I can hear your head ticking.” Chance said, glancing at me as he sipped his coffee from the Yeti cup he’d filled at home.

  “Just thinking you’re probably right. About leaving Kings Grove. Starting somewhere else.”

  “Amen,” he said, reaching across to tap his cup to mine.

  We pulled into the office parking lot and I sat in the cab of the truck a few beats longer, staring over the highway at the soaring tops of the grove of Giant Sequoias for which the town was named. Could I really leave this place? What would life be like in a place where the landscape wasn’t practically a physical presence in your life? I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing it would be for the best for me to leave Kings Grove.

  But first, we needed to try to save it. I took a deep breath and went into the office.

  Chapter 20

  Miranda

  I hadn’t meant to sleep in, and when my eyes snapped open to find smoke-shrouded sunlight shifting through the curtains, it was like an engine roared to life inside me. I had things I needed to do. What was happening with the fire? I had to go help.

  “Mom,” I called down the stairs as I stepped out of my bedroom still pulling on my jeans. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

  Mom didn’t answer, but I found her on the couch with a huge box of Christmas ornaments on the table in front of her and the television showing the firefighters working to beat back the approaching fire. “Miranda,” my mother said, her voice small and weak.

  “What are you doing? It’s August.”

  “I’ve been meaning to get these sorted forever,” she said.

  “Right.” No use asking more questions. My mother was in defensive organizing mode. “Dad already gone?”

  She nodded, and my heart sank a little. It had to be impossible for her, sitting here all day waiting for news.

  “You’ve got the car all packed, right? If we had to go, you’d be totally ready, right?”

  “Well no, not really. I need to choose the most special ornaments to take. All of these have sentimental value, honey. I can’t just let them go.”

  I stepped nearer and poked my nose into the box, pulling out two ornaments. One was a wreath I’d made in elementary school—red and green buttons strung together on a cord and tied in a bow. It was cute, but I wasn’t sure sentimental was the right word. The other was a delicate glass angel that probably should have been wrapped in bubble wrap; it was a wonder it wasn’t broken. “What’s this one?”

  Mom’s face broke into a sad smile and she reached for the angel and patted the couch next to her. “This was your grandmother’s,” she said, turning the little glass figure in her hands. I noticed that her nails, usually shining with crimson polish, were ragged and torn. I hoped this situation came to an end quickly, if only so my mother could return to her comfortable routines; she was falling apart. “She bought it on her honeymoon when she and your grandfather went to Paris at Christmastime.” She pressed it between her palms lovingly and pulled it to her chest. “It’s always been one of my favorites.”

  “Then it should come with us,” I told her. “But why don’t you finish this up and come down to town? Lot’s of folks are gathering at the diner to share news and help where they can, and we’ve got people going out to wrap structures again today. Come with me.”

  Mom looked uncertain, her eye scanning the overstuffed holiday box. And then she pulled her watery blue eyes back to my face. “Okay, yes. I think that would be more useful than sitting here waiting.”

  I nodded. “I’ll make breakfast. You should probably wear some jeans and boots.”

  “Good. Yes.” Mom sprang up and her face cleared a little, focused on a specific task. “I’ll be right back.”

  Twenty minutes later, Mom and I were headed into town. There were lots of cars parked around the parking lot, most of them stuffed to the gills with people’s prized possessions. Most of us expected that today the order to evacuate would come.

  Inside the diner, Sam was organizing folks into small groups and leaning over a map of the village spread on a table top. I stepped up close to hear what he was saying and he paused for a moment, looking up at me. Our eyes met and I would’ve sworn I saw him wince, but then he returned to speaking.

  “Mr. George asked us to meet the Forest Service working back here,” he pointed to the place on the map where we’d been the day before, “and fan out to cover as many structures in this area as possible.” He waved at the back section of the village, which included our house. “The fire’s still moving, a little slower now thanks to the rain yesterday, but we don’t have a lot of time.” He hadn’t looked at me again, and as he stood up now, his eyes flitted across my face and fell on my mom. A huge smile broke out on his face and a little jolt went through me.

  Why hadn’t I ever noticed before how crazy handsome he was?

  “Mrs. George,” he said, and he leaned in and gave my mom a big hug as Chance came striding across the floor of the diner to say hello.

  “It’s so good to see you again, Mrs. George,” Chance said, hugging Mom when Sam let her go.

  I’d never envied my mother so much.

  She blushed and waved her hands in front of her face. “You boys,” she said, laughing self-consciously. “I wanted to come out and see if I could help at all today.”

  “Absolutely,” Sam said, and he swung his eyes to meet mine. I smiled at him, feeling suddenly awkward, but he looked away without really acknowledging me, and my heart sank. “You and I will head back with John Trench’s crew.” He indicated Mr. Trench picking up a cup of coffee and a small brown bag from the end of the diner counter where Adele had set up a snack station for the volunteers. “And Miranda and Chance can head to the other side of the village and get going over there with the Allens.”

  “Oh, well,” my mother said. “I know I’m being picky now, but I’d like to stay with Miranda, Sam.”

  He nodded. “I hate to lose you on my crew, but—”

  “We’ll both come with you,” I said, my mouth moving before my brain had kicked in.

  Sam’s face clouded, his eyes narrowing and little lines appearing on his brow beneath the light brown lock that always seemed to fall there. “Yeah, okay.”

  He didn’t sound like it was okay at all. He sounded irritated and annoyed, and I realized with a shock that whatever had happened between us yesterday must not have meant anything to him. Maybe what he’d wanted to say after it had happened was that it had been a huge mistake. It must’ve been just a result of our exhaustion, the turmoil we all felt over the impending danger. It had meant nothing.

  Which was good. It had meant nothing to me, either. Right? Yes, I was totally sticking with that. It made a lot more sense than the sudden rush of affection I’d felt on seeing Sam here already working hard to save Kings Grove this morning.

  And besides, what was I doing, giving up the opportunity to work with Chance? What if he lost his mind at the end of the day and decided to lay one on me? Maybe that sort of thing ran in the family. I needed to be there for that possibility, didn’t I?

  “If the call comes to evacuate, family should be together so we don’t waste time looking for people,” Chance said. “That means you and me together too, little bro.”

  Sam let out a long breath, and then said, “Fine,” and walked over to discuss rearranging groups with Mr. Trench.

  Before long, we were piled into one of the big Palmer trucks, heading to the back of the village.

  “This is very exciting,” my mother whispered, leaning over to me. “Spending our day with these handsome Palmer brothers.” She waggled her eyebrows at me, and I knew with certainty that my crush had not gone unnoticed at home, despite my attempts to cover it.

  Great. Mom was many things, but subtle was not one of them. And I had no idea which brother she thought I should be interested in, but at this point, I
didn’t need her pushing me toward either of them. It was going to be a long day, and the fire threatening everything I loved was suddenly just one of my many concerns.

  My mother’s belief that this was all “very exciting” waned shortly after we arrived at the back of the village for a second day, where the mood was much more serious than it had been the day before. The Forest Service firefighters we met were stern and terse, probably as much from exhaustion as from the belief that the evacuation would be called sometime today if the fire didn’t change directions or slow down suddenly. Adele and Frank had set up an all-night operation, according to Chance, feeding crews that came in from the fire line.

  “The Lodge opened the rooms to firefighters to crash, too,” Chance said as we got started working.

  My mother nodded at this, and said, “That’s the kind of thing small towns are good for. We take care of people.”

  I knew she was right, but I wanted to point out that small towns also gave people too much inside knowledge about one another, that they didn’t offer opportunities like big cities, and they forced you to remain inside the identity you developed early on, never getting to reinvent yourself as you matured. And I was tired of being the girl who’d tripped, spilled, and stuttered my way through life.

  Chance and I worked side by side through the morning, mostly because Sam seemed to be doing his best to stay as far away from me as possible. I’d hoped to find an opportunity to talk to him—I was still embarrassed about the way I’d reacted the day before after he’d kissed me. And that kiss, and the way it had made my knees melt and my insides swirl around, had been about all I could think of since then. I didn’t know what I wanted to say to Sam, but I knew I needed to say something. Beyond that, my body was pushing me toward him. It was as if all the girlish fantasies I’d developed for Chance had suddenly dissolved in the reality of that kiss, and were now focused on Sam.