Precarious Summer

by Lyn Cote

  On the upward swing, Evie threw her arms around the sheriff’s neck. “Wow!” she exclaimed, giggling. Looking around, she begged, “Piggyback me just a little longer. Please. Take me over there where the games are. Please.”

  Obligingly Carter swung her back up onto his broad shoulders. “You want to go through the games. Okay!” He headed toward the narrow aisle of games, ones like trying to knock down wooden pins with softballs. The tight aisle followed the lakefront. The evening breeze tried to penetrate the crowd, but they were packed together.

  Walking beside Carter through the peopled lane, Audra thought her heart would burst with happiness over Evie’s triumphant smile. Why shouldn’t she and Carter be together? This is now, not twenty years ago. I’m not the little girl I was when Carter and Sarah dated. And Carter isn’t the wild kid he was then. We’ve both changed, matured, and drawn closer to God. The old has passed away and the new has come.

  But how could her uncle understand letting God come in and change one’s heart? After two wrecked marriages, he was blundering around and mishandling Brent without a clue.

  Momentarily breathless in the mass of people all talking, laughing, squealing, Audra heard firecrackers hiss and crackle nearby. She looked around in the crush, trying to see who was throwing them. Apprehension flickered inside her.

  “Who’s setting off firecrackers in the middle of all these people?” Carter said into her ear.

  More firecrackers erupted. Audra pressed more tightly to Carter and Evie, memories of the fire at Tom’s sparking her fear.

  “Fire!” a man shouted. Women shrieked. The crowd began to push forward.

  Flames began licking up one of the game booths, setting the stuffed animal prizes alight. The lake breeze carried the flames across to the canvas to the food tent on the opposite side of them. Fire began devouring the khaki canvas. The night scene was suddenly bright with flames. Surrounding them on both sides of the midway.

  Shouts of “Fire! Fire!” echoed over the hurrying crowd. In Audra, panic burst to life.

  Someone shoved Audra from behind. She fought to keep her footing. Another booth caught fire and another. Flames leaped overhead. Shrieks filled her ears. Terror arced inside her. In a blink, the crowd surged into a mob.

  Sparks fluttered down. Flaming canvas fragments. Pinprick burns. Audra felt herself being parted from Carter and Evie. She grabbed for his arm. But the crowd surged behind her. Carrying her away. She struggled to stay on her feet. She shouted, “Carter! Evie!” Chaos swallowed the sound of her voice. The siren calling the volunteer firefighters wailed in the distance.

  Booths on both sides of her blazed. Flames spreading. Frantic people pushed, shoved. All trying to get to the end of the midway and out. Flashes of memory—beating out Tom’s shirt bright with fire—stoked her own panic. Terrified, she felt herself calling, screaming, “Carter! Evie!” But the crowd, shouting, “Fire! Fire!” overwhelmed her. The crowd carried Audra out of the narrow midway.

  People crashed into the flimsy metal rail around the merry-go-round, climbed over the wreckage, swarming around the ride and into the widening street beyond. Landing on the merry-go-round, she clung to a pony pole like claiming a ship’s mast in a storm. The pony became her shield. The metal roof too. She gasped for breath. Memory gripped her—her hands burned again as if afire.

  Clutching the pole, Audra screamed, “Evie!” She imagined terrible scenes where the crowd knocked Evie from Carter’s shoulders. Trampling her little girl. Audra’s fear leaped higher and higher. She fought her own hysteria. God, God, protect her; help me keep control. She shuddered and braced herself against the chaos, swallowing her screams.

  Then another siren roared above the chaos. And gunfire—two commanding bangs—and then a bullhorn, “Do not panic! Firefighters are on their way! Move out of the thoroughfare so the fire engine can reach the scene.”

  This calm authoritative voice seemed to breach the madness. The screaming quieted. People still hurried but they looked around themselves as if awakening. Carter’s strong voice over the bullhorn continued to give orders.

  Still holding her place, Audra looked around, trying to locate Evie. The fire engine sirens wailed, sounding closer. People moved, making way for the firefighters. Audra let them go, clung to the pole, trying to see Carter, Evie. She breathed prayer upon prayer.

  The crowd stopped on the rise beyond the wharf to watch the blaze. The flames still roared behind Audra. Ash floated above and smoke streamed into the night sky. Frozen in place, Audra sheltered under the canopy over the carousel. The fire engine arrived. As the firefighters hooked hoses to hydrants and began battling the blaze, Audra watched them beat back the fire. Evie. Carter. Please, Lord.

  Carter was suddenly beside her. From the haven of his arms, Evie was reaching out to Audra. “Mama! Mama! The sheriff ’tected me. Mama!”

  Audra opened her arms, not just to Evie but to Carter, and the two of them embraced—Audra and Carter sheltering Evie between them. This night had put into reality her deepest fear, the recurring nightmare of not being able to protect Evie. Audra dragged in air to hold off tears. She rubbed her face against Carter’s shirt, drawing in his scent. With the last bit of her self-control, she stopped herself from lifting her mouth to his.

  “You were smart to stay still and grab hold of something stronger than the crowd,” Carter said. He stepped back. He looked around at the firefighters about a third of a block away. “I think you’ll be safe here for a while. I need to talk to the fire chief and then I’ll walk you home. Okay?”

  But he didn’t wait for her assent. He hurried toward the blaze that the firefighters were already getting under control.

  Her knees weak with relief and aftershock, Audra sank onto one of the merry-go-round benches and settled Evie on her lap. Evie clung to her. “I was scared,” she whimpered.

  “The sheriff had you. You were safe with him.” Audra held on to the memory of his touch just moments before. And then she admitted it. Carter Harding had become the most dangerous man in Winfield—the most dangerous to her heart.

  LATER, WITH EVIE ASLEEP against his shoulder and her thin legs dangling down his chest, Carter paused outside Shirley’s back door and turned to Audra. The emotional turmoil had drained her, making her even more vulnerable to him. She tried to think of something to say besides “Hold me.” She cleared her throat. “Where did you get the bullhorn?”

  “I left my Jeep behind the Anchor Inn. I ran with Evie, put her inside, loaded my rifle with blanks and shot into the air. There’s nothing like a rifle firing to get people’s attention.”

  Stars glowed overhead. She tried to focus on them and not him. “You expected trouble, then?”

  “No, if I’d expected trouble, I wouldn’t have taken you and Evie.” His voice softened. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you two.” He turned slightly, his voice businesslike. “I just think it’s good to always be prepared for the worst.”

  Audra fell silent. Was he fighting the same impulse? Did he want to hold her, too? Of their own accord her eyes lifted to his. Voices sounded in the distance. Shirley’s house was quiet. The undeniable pull toward him tugged Audra. She reached for the doorknob behind her, still resisting temptation, still taking refuge in words. “Who do you think tossed the firecrackers? And did they do it to start the fire?”

  “No way of knowing yet.” His deep voice was soft around the edges as if he were speaking words of love to her.

  His voice, so rich and deep, somehow sensitized the skin at her nape. “Maybe just kids?” she suggested, desperately clinging to their conversation.

  He shrugged. Evie snuffled softly in her sleep. He grinned at this and gently patted her back.

  This gesture, at last, compelled Audra forward. She laid a hand on his cheek. Please, Carter, kiss me. As if anticipating the touch of his lips, her lips tingled. She leaned her mouth toward his.

  He whispered her name. Then slanted his head and moved it forward.

  Sh
e held her breath, counting off the seconds as his lips drew nearer.

  “Mama.” Shifting in his arms, Evie woke up and rubbed her eyes. “Are we home yet?”

  “Yes, Evie.” Feeling a sharp claw of disappointment, Audra helped her daughter down from Carter’s arms. “Say good night to Sheriff Harding.”

  “Good night, Sheriff.” Evie yawned. “Thanks for giving me piggyback rides, and the kettle corn and the merry-go-round. And ’tecting me from the fire.”

  Audra ached with unfulfilled want. Carter—so near and yet untouchable.

  “Anytime.” Carter backed away. Soon he was merely a pale figure, striding away down the dark alley, heading back to his Jeep.

  Loss whistling coolly through her, Audra turned and nudged Evie inside. “I’ll get you right to bed, sweetheart. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Her cheery voice rang false to her ears.

  Shirley met them in the kitchen. “Did you see Chad on your way home? He hasn’t come home yet.”

  “No.” Audra paused at these unwelcome words. “Didn’t the deputies find him?”

  “If they have, they haven’t called me.” Frowning, Shirley walked past Audra toward the back door. Then she parted the white curtains and peered out a window.

  “He’ll come home,” Audra said, but without any real conviction. Drat the boy. Why couldn’t he show some maturity?

  Shirley sighed. “Like a bad penny, you mean? I keep telling myself he’s come a long way this year. I’ll call the sheriff’s department and then try to turn Chad over to God. He can keep him safe.”

  As Audra passed her, she patted Shirley’s shoulder. Shirley sounded as if she were trying to convince herself. Audra, a mother too, understood how hard it was to let go and let God.

  And tonight Chad had stepped over the line again, but how far? Tossing firecrackers into the crowd would be just the kind of thing a liquored-up kid would do. Suddenly Audra didn’t feel like the hopeful woman who’d almost kissed Carter on the back porch.

  Aggravation prickled inside Audra. She marched upstairs. Lord, You’re going to have to handle all of this, she prayed. I can’t figure out who’s to blame. And please do something about my uncle. Help Carter get these fires solved soon. And bring Chad home so Shirley won’t fret all night.

  Chapter Nine

  Early the next morning, already hot, humid, and oppressive even before daylight, Audra bid a sleepy farewell to her bed. As she left the stuffy attic, she patted Evie, who was still deeply asleep. After a night of tossing and turning with nightmares of fires and Evie screaming, Audra dragged herself out of the quiet house into the unusually sticky air. Fires or no, her customers would arrive in three hours, wanting their coffee hot and their pastries sweet, flaky, and buttery. Nearing her Victorian, she scanned the charred remains of the forlorn carnival. Her gloom deepened.

  When she unlocked the front door of her café and entered, Chad stepped out of the downstairs parlor. She gasped. “Chad? How did you get in?”

  He motioned toward the side of the house where the wraparound porch extended. “I climbed in a window last night.”

  Audra didn’t like the sound of that breach of her security. Had Chad been here last evening or was he tossing firecrackers into the carnival crowd? But she only said, “I hope you locked it after yourself. I thought I had all the windows on the first floor locked.”

  Chad shrugged and then winced.

  Audra studied him. His clothes were rumpled, his hair uncombed, almost standing up on end. Her jaw firmed. “You slept here, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  She noticed he caught himself just before he nodded again and substituted the surly “yeah.” A hangover? She walked up to him and the stench of cigarettes and stale alcohol nearly gagged her. She pursed her lips. “Into the bathroom.” She motioned for him to precede her down the hall behind him. Did this kid ever think first?

  “Why?”

  “Because I need you to work this morning and I can’t stand the smell of you. You get into the bathtub and wash up. I’ll call Shirley and ask her to bring over a change of clothing for you. Move it.” Should she call Carter and tell him that Chad had turned up here?

  She heard him mutter something like, “You’re not my mother.”

  “No, I’m not your mother. I’m your employer and I’m teaching you that you don’t show up for work in clothes you’ve slept in, reeking of tobacco, liquor, and body odor.”

  He growled something she didn’t hear clearly. Fortunately. But he obeyed her. The downstairs bathroom, which customers could use, still had its original claw-foot tub.

  When she stepped inside, another unpleasant odor greeted Audra. Her hands clenched. The urge to again hit Chad over the head with a spoon—for his own good—was powerful. She gritted her teeth. “Were you sick in here?”

  Chad didn’t reply.

  She exhaled. “Great. Just great.” She sprayed air freshener. Then she showed him the high cupboard in which she’d stashed shampoo, soap, a spare toothbrush and paste, comb, and towels and left him to clean up.

  She muttered all the way to the kitchen and called Shirley and told her Chad had spent the night in her Victorian and to please bring a clean set of clothing for him ASAP. After a few more comments, Audra hung up and pulled on a fresh apron. “I’m way too young to be dealing with a teenager,” she grumbled to the silent kitchen.

  Then she picked up the phone and dialed Carter. He needed to know about Chad. Her heightened sensitivity from last night when anticipating his kiss quivered through her. His voice came over the phone. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Then she cleared her throat. “Carter, I need to tell you about Chad.”

  SHIRLEY ENDED THE CALL. Relief over finding out where Chad had spent the night vied with irritation. She couldn’t seem to get through to the boy. What should I do with him, Lord? She mounted the flight of stairs to the second floor and tiptoed past Tom’s door. She hoped he was still asleep.

  Last night when he’d insisted on sitting up with her downstairs to wait for Chad, she’d realized he wouldn’t rest until she did. He was still healing and needed his sleep. So she’d sent him upstairs to his room and had gone to her first-floor room. But not to sleep. After midnight, she’d crept down to the kitchen to await Chad’s knock on the back door. But of course, it never came.

  Now she let herself into Chad’s room. It was a mess as usual and smelled of unwashed socks. She never made a big deal about the messy room, because she had more important things she needed to teach Chad first—like honesty, responsibility, and the most important—loving and being loved.

  Shaking her head, she went to the stack of clean clothes she’d set on the end of his bed two days ago, which had included instructions for him to put them into his dresser in the right drawers. Her eyes gritty from lack of sleep, she exhaled loudly. Then she began picking out clean underwear, socks, and a T-shirt for him. She turned to the closet where she’d hung his blue jeans and selected a decent pair for work. Checking her armload, she gave the room one last once-over, and halted, her spirits plummeting. She’d glimpsed something she didn’t want to see here. Weak-kneed, she sat down on the end of the unmade bed. Are those what I think they are?

  A FEW MINUTES AFTER Shirley had come and gone, Chad joined Audra in the kitchen at the rear. His hair was still wet from his bath, but he was dressed in fresh clothing.

  “Feel better?” she asked, wondering if Carter would come to pick up Chad or wait and get him at Shirley’s later.

  “Yeah.” Without smiling, he lifted an apron off the hook on the wall.

  “I’ve already put the first batch in the ovens,” Audra said, resisting the temptation to lecture him about causing Shirley to lose sleep. She didn’t envy Carter if he had to get any information out of this very surly Chad. “You can have a few rolls when they come out. That should give you some energy.”

  “Thanks.” He headed to his workstation and began shaping dough.

  He sounded subdued, but better than he h
ad at first sight. Still, something about Shirley’s expression when she’d delivered the clothing only minutes ago plagued Audra. Was it just Chad’s not coming home last night? Or had something else upset Shirley?

  JUST AFTER EIGHT O’CLOCK in the morning, Carter felt about ten years older than he had the night before the carnival. As he climbed out of his Jeep in the alley behind Shirley’s house, a sharp sense of disappointment jabbed him. Last night on the back steps, Audra had nearly let him kiss her again in spite of her uncle’s early-evening meltdown. How could he protect her from her uncle?

  With leaden dread, he mounted the back steps of Shirley’s house. Shirley was waiting for him at the back door, her face twisted with anxiety. She held the door open for him.

  “What is it?” he asked, sensing he wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Tom’s still asleep.” She put a finger to her lips. “Come up to Chad’s room with me.”

  Not encouraged by her stiff tone, he followed her up and into the second-story bedroom. With each step up, his mood lowered.

  She pointed and said, “There. I didn’t touch them.”

  Carter walked over to the side of the bed Shirley had indicated, and saw firecrackers and matches. His mouth firmed into a grim line.

  “Chad knows he’s not to have anything like that,” Shirley said, sounding near tears. “I told him no smoking, no fireworks. Nothing with matches. I told him he’d have to live down his reputation as a fire-setter and that the only way to do it was to steer absolutely clear of any hint of anything to do with fire or fireworks. We just had this conversation again a week before the Fourth.”

  How could Chad be this stupid? Carter turned and put a comforting arm around Shirley. “You’re doing a good job with Chad. He just has a long way to come, and Doyle isn’t helping.”

  She started to cry.

  “Hey, this isn’t your fault. Don’t jump to conclusions.” He patted her back. Shirley didn’t deserve this kind of trouble. “Shirley, just because Chad had firecrackers in his room doesn’t prove that he lit any.”