by Cora Seton
“What is it?”
“A zipline. I bet the boys installed it.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Liam was surprised by her answer. Tory had always been a scrappy kid, and she seemed like she’d grown into the kind of woman who wasn’t afraid of anything. “This post is still solid. So’s the cabling. I want to take a closer look at the pine where it attaches up there. Want to come with me?”
“I don’t like heights,” she said.
That explained it. Liam didn’t want to push her. They’d spent a lot of time together in the past twenty-four hours. Maybe it would serve them to take a little break.
“You could check out the greenhouses. We can meet back at the firepit in half an hour.”
“Okay. I always loved the greenhouses here. Be careful, though.” Her worried expression counteracted any chagrin he might have felt for the eager way she’d agreed with his plan.
“Will do.” He leaned forward to kiss her. It felt as natural as standing in the sunshine, and they parted just as naturally.
Liam whistled as he hiked up the hill.
The big, old-fashioned glass greenhouses were almost works of art, Tory thought as she stood inside the door of the first one and looked around.
Even more amazing, they were intact. Why hadn’t hooligans come and broken all the windows? She was beginning to think the residents of Silver Falls must hold the place in some kind of collective pride that prevented them from ruining it the way most abandoned places were—or maybe the caretaker was a much more constant presence here than Liam thought.
She was grateful for whatever kept it safe, because the structure was nothing short of miraculous. She had a dim recollection of visiting here with her mother. Picking up a pot of tulips, or daffodils, or something like that one spring. It had been jungle-warm in there despite the earliness of the season.
Today it was roasting, and she wouldn’t be able to stay inside for long.
She walked around, touching the endless lengths of wooden counters and tabletops that in her memory were crowded with pots bursting with blooms. Above her was the sprinkler system that had once misted the plants. She spotted an old trowel. A set of wooden sticks to label the varieties of flowers. Even a pair of gardener’s gloves.
Once this place had been part of an operation that kept a family afloat. Between the lodge, the treehouse cabins, the public days and the flower business, it had paid for a mother and her three sons to survive in the world—not to mention their employees. Now that was over.
Would it ever come to life again?
A movement outside the greenhouse caught her eye, and Tory froze, half voicing a scream before it stuck in her throat. A glimpse of a face—a flash of color—
Then it was gone again.
It wasn’t Liam. She was sure of that. The owner—or the caretaker? But why hadn’t he come in to challenge her if that’s who it was.
She screamed when a rock splintered a nearby window. She caught sight of the person again, ducked down behind one of the potting benches, and clapped a hand over her mouth. Would her cry lead Rod to her or frighten him away?
She scuttled forward to hide behind another one of the rows of tables—farther away from where she’d seen Rod—but then she realized she was backing herself into a corner.
Where had he gone?
It didn’t matter, did it? She might as well be in a display case in here—he could see her from any angle outside.
She had to get out of here, but how could she do that without him catching her as she ran out the door?
Maybe he was gone already—
Another movement came from her right.
Tory lunged forward, reached another row, closer to the door this time. She held her breath. Looked around wildly. Was Rod circling around the back of the greenhouse? The myriad panes of glass reflected and distorted motion. She wasn’t sure if the jumping images she saw were her own reflection or someone moving outside.
She lurched toward the door again, crab-walking between the rows of tables, getting closer. If she could just get outside—
Get back to the lodge. Find Liam—
She reached the door, pulled it open, ran outside—
And crashed into a man’s arms.
Tory’s second scream made Liam’s ears ring.
“Hey! Tory—it’s me. What’s going on?” Moments ago, Liam had launched the zipline swing from the platform on the pine tree and taken a wild ride down the hill, uncertain if he’d be able to stop himself in time when he reached the lodge.
The brake had worked, albeit somewhat half-heartedly, and his heels had just hit the planking of the deck when Tory’s first cry sounded.
Somehow Liam had gotten down from the deck and reached the greenhouse, and now Tory fought and squirmed in his arms, her movements frantic.
“Tory!”
She stopped struggling, still panting in his arms. “Liam?”
“Who else would it be?”
“I saw… I saw a man…”
She wasn’t making sense. “Saw who?”
“I think—I think it was Rod—”
Rod? “Are you sure?” Liam swore. How would he even know they were here? More to the point, why would he follow them?
“Not entirely,” she admitted. “It happened so fast I didn’t get a very good look, but I think it was him.”
The back of Liam’s neck prickled with the sensation they were being watched even now. Liam was a rancher. He didn’t travel without a rifle in his truck. Unfortunately, they were nowhere near his truck—
“Let’s get back to the beach,” he said quietly. “Stay near me.”
He kept a hand wrapped around her arm as they hurried to where they’d camped, ready to push her behind him at the slightest sign of danger.
They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though, and once on the beach, Liam began to wonder if someone had been there at all.
“All that glass,” he began as they stood over the gear they’d left at the firepit. “Any chance you saw your own reflection back there?”
“He threw a rock. Smashed one of the windows.”
Liam swore again. He wasn’t sure what to do. The sensible thing was to pack up and get the hell out of there, but what then? Go to a cheap motel?
Go home?
He’d appreciated this time with Tory. He couldn’t see how they could get together again if they went back now.
Tory broke from his grip suddenly and dashed the last few steps to the firepit. “I smell smoke,” she said. “But we doused the fire good—and it’s still out. Where is it coming from?”
Liam lifted his chin. She was right; he smelled it, too. He spun around on his heel, taking in the lodge, the trees around it—
“There!”
Smoke was billowing out of the forest near the lane that led out to the highway. He started running, and he heard Tory’s footsteps pounding after him. He was already pulling his phone out of his pocket when they rounded the bend before the bridge.
Liam stopped short.
This was far worse than he’d thought. Flames already licked up the trees on either side of the lane, and the hot wind blowing was wafting sparks ahead of it, spreading the fire. He lifted the phone to dial 9-1-1 and swore. “No reception!”
And the only road out was a gauntlet through an inferno.
“There were hoses back near the house!” Tory took off the way they’d come. Liam ran after her. In a pinch, they could grab the canoe from the boathouse and paddle around the fire to the other side. By the time they did that, though, the blaze might be unstoppable. Hundreds of acres of forest—dry timber—stood between the resort and Silver Falls proper. A fire whipped by these winds could take out the whole town.
“Look—there’s an extra hose over there,” Tory called when she reached the one connected to the lodge. “Can we join them?”
Liam was already working at it. His hands shook as he tried to thread one end of the hose attached t
o the house to the other one.
“The water might be turned off,” he warned. If it was, the canoe was their only hope.
“Rod must have set the fire.”
Liam nodded. There was no time to talk. An instant later he had the hose lengths joined and Tory turned on the tap. They both held their breath, waiting—
“It’s running!” Tory pointed to water spilling out the open end of the joined hoses. There was no nozzle, though. This wasn’t going to work—
“Come on.” Tory gathered up a coil of hose. Liam grabbed the rest, and they ran awkwardly back the way they’d come, letting out the hose as they went, stumbling and tripping over their unwieldly bundles. To Liam’s relief the hoses extended to the fire, but seconds later he realized it was like pissing in the wind. Even in the short time they’d been gone, the flames had grown.
He tossed Tory the keys. “Get the truck—bring it as close as you can.”
She caught them and ran toward the lodge as he kept the water pointed at the blaze. A minute later the roar of the truck’s engine alerted him she was back.
“Close the windows!” Liam hosed off the truck—as if that would help. He jumped behind the wheel, Tory scooting into the passenger seat. “We’re going to gun it. We’ll be over the bridge and out the other side in a flash. We’ve got to get to where we can call it in—get the fire department out here. If we have to paddle to where we can get reception, it’ll take too long.”
Tory nodded. “I’m in. Let’s do this.” She gripped the door’s handle and shut her eyes. Was she saying a little prayer?
Good.
They needed all the help they could get.
Tory whispered words she didn’t know she knew, praying that Liam’s plan worked. This fire was the trouble everyone in the area had been dreading all summer.
It was so dry. So hot. So windy today. She already feared the lodge and treehouses—and the greenhouse she’d just toured—were goners. The fire was close to being out of control. If it wasn’t stopped—fast—it could sweep up the hill and into Silver Falls. How many people would lose their homes, livelihoods—maybe even their lives—then?
Liam gunned the engine, put the truck in Drive, and they sped toward the fire, the lane—and the bridge beyond.
The bridge was concrete, she thought wildly as they careened toward the fire. It wouldn’t have burned or melted in the inferno. All they had to do was get across—
She cried out involuntarily as they plunged into the flames, but Liam had been right—they were over the bridge and then out of the fire in a matter of seconds. Safe on the other side.
Liam drove halfway up the hill before stopping. It was smoky here, but no fire in sight. He parked at the side of the road and pulled out his phone again, and Tory wanted to kick herself for not calling the fire department herself.
“I’ve got a fire out at the Hunts’ lodge,” Liam said into the phone. “It’s growing fast. Send everything you’ve got!”
He put the truck in motion again, but they were almost to town before they heard the sirens. Three fire engines passed them as they made the turn onto the main road. Liam drove to Thoughtful Coffee and parked.
“Can you get home from here? I’ll go back to the lodge. Tell them what I know. I won’t mention that you were here.”
“But—” Understanding dawned. “You’re giving me an alibi?”
“No one has to know about us. Not if you don’t want them to. You know how our families are…” It seemed like he was asking her a question. When she nodded, his shoulders sagged.
Was he regretting losing this time with her the way she was regretting having to say goodbye to him?
“Go on,” she said. “I’ll be okay. But, Liam—thanks.” She leaned toward him, and he met her halfway. She didn’t think she’d ever had a kiss so bittersweet.
He opened his mouth to say something but instead simply shook his head. Tory undid her seat belt and opened the door.
“Be safe. Remember Rod—or whoever it was—is out there somewhere,” he told her.
As soon as she shut the door he was gone.
“Tory?” a voice said behind her a moment later. “Hi—remember me?”
Caught in the act of watching Liam drive away, Tory spun around, her heart in her throat. At first she couldn’t place the young woman standing in front of her, but something about her eager smile plucked a memory from the recesses of Tory’s mind.
“Megan Lawrence?”
Megan smiled broadly. “That’s me.”
“Look at you, all grown up.”
“Right back atcha.”
Tory relaxed a little. “Do you live in Silver Falls now?” Had Megan seen Liam drop her off? She saw no hint of the disgust Rod had displayed when she’d first encountered him. Megan didn’t seem to be carrying a grudge against the Coopers. If only there was an easy way to identify and keep her distance from everyone who did.
It scared her to think Rod had followed her and Liam to Runaway Lake with the intent of making mischief. Had he watched them during the night?
Tory shivered.
“No, I still live in Chance Creek, but I’m a realtor. Just starting out, so I have to take listings where I can. Not that there’s anything wrong with Silver Falls,” Megan rushed to add. “It’s just…”
“A little rough around the edges,” Tory supplied. “Kind of always was, but it’s even worse now, isn’t it?” She couldn’t help thinking of Liam racing back toward the fire. She hoped against hope the firefighters could put out the blaze before it got even worse. Hoped Rod was long gone.
Could he be watching her again?
“Let’s just say that houses aren’t appreciating here.” Megan shrugged. “And my clients don’t appreciate that.” She smiled at her little joke. “It’s hard to sell a home out here—some have been abandoned altogether. How about you? Looking for a house?”
“Not me. I’m starting school in the fall.” Tory didn’t know what to do next. She could call a cab, she supposed. She wasn’t quite ready to face her family, though, and she wouldn’t mind waiting to see if Liam came back to town once the fire was out. As long as she didn’t see Rod.
Megan checked her phone. “I have a little time. Want to grab a coffee and catch up?”
“Sure. Not Thoughtful Coffee, though. Went there yesterday,” she added hurriedly. She wasn’t about to return to one of Rod’s hangouts.
“Let’s go to Betty’s.” Megan flashed a sudden smile. “Sounds retro, I know, but actually it’s been Betty’s long enough it was around when the name was popular.”
Tory tried to return her smile, but worry made it hard. She kept her eyes peeled for trouble as they walked the block and a half to the faded restaurant. Still, when they sat down in a booth, she found Megan easy to talk to. It was nice to chat with someone outside of the family who couldn’t care less if she was a Cooper or Turner. Megan knew a lot about the area. She admitted that growing her business was slow, but she seemed ready to give it her all.
“Do you know a guy named Rod Malcolm?” Tory asked when they were getting up to leave. She hadn’t seen any sign of Liam, even though the window next to their booth faced the street.
“Can’t say that I do. Is your truck parked somewhere near?”
“Um… no,” Tory admitted, a little embarrassed. “Are you headed back to Chance Creek? Could I get a ride with you?”
Megan looked surprised. “Sure.” She didn’t ask how Tory had gotten to Silver Falls, and Tory didn’t volunteer the information. Instead, she turned the conversation to their high school days, and soon Megan was talking about the big renovation Carl Whitfield was spearheading.
“Can you imagine if they’d had a robotics program when we were going to school? Maybe all of us would be working in tech jobs now.”
“I don’t think I’d be,” Tory said. They settled their bill and stepped outside.
“Where do you think you’ll practice law?”
Tory opened her mouth to answer,
“Seattle,” or “Spokane,” or “Portland.” Instead, she said, “I don’t know.”
And spent the rest of the ride home wondering why.
Chapter Five
“Thanks for calling in the fire,” Mark Draper, the fire chief, said. “I’m glad we got it under control when we did. A blaze like that can move fast in dry conditions like we have.”
“I’m glad you saved the lodge and the treehouses,” Liam said. “Would’ve been a crying shame if they’d been lost.”
“What were you doing here when the fire started?”
“Trespassing.” No sense in trying to hide it. “Truth is, I come out here sometimes. Camp on the beach.”
“Saw there’d been a fire recently in the pit. That yours?”
“Yep. I didn’t start this blaze, though.”
“You sure about that?”
For the first time Liam felt a flash of unease. It hadn’t occurred to him he’d be blamed for the fire.
“I’m sure,” he said determinedly. “I saw someone else. Fellow by the name of Rod Malcolm. Had a bit of an altercation with him yesterday at Thoughtful Coffee. Saw him just before I smelled the smoke.”
“Rod Malcolm, huh? He’s got a bit of a temper, thinks of himself as Silver Falls’s leading citizen, but I’ve never figured him for an arsonist.” The chief scratched his head. “But a spark can stray from a fire, even one in a firepit.”
“I didn’t start the blaze,” Liam said again. “Hell, Mark, I nearly got caught by it. Had to drive right through the flames. If I was going to set a fire, I’d be sure I was on the other side of it when it got going, you know?”
Mark shrugged. “Like I said, it could have been an accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident. I saw someone near the greenhouses,” he lied, figuring it was close enough to the truth. “Pretty sure it was Rod. I skedaddled back to the beach to grab my things and get out of there—”
“Was your fire still burning?”
“No, it’d been out for hours,” Liam said, his temper rising. “When I got to the beach, I smelled smoke and looked for the source. When I saw the blaze by the bridge, I tried to put it out with the hose connected to the lodge. It didn’t work, so I got out of there.”