Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
E verything she had was gone. Over the next few days, she came to realize that. From the new clothes, with tags still on them, that Aubrey had delivered to the new bag of makeup and toiletry items that Zoey had dropped off. All of her things were now ash.
The day she was being released, it hit her even harder. She no longer had a place to live.
For some reason, it hadn’t even crossed her mind until she was being loaded up in Aaron’s truck.
“Where…?” she started as he climbed in behind the wheel. “Where am I going to live?”
She’d cried plenty over the past three days. She’s been in the hospital two days longer than was probably necessary, but she’d had a heart arrhythmia that Lea wanted to watch.
Beth was pretty sure Lea just wanted her to rest some more before tackling the mess that was her life now.
“With me.” Aaron smiled. “I have my guest room all set up for you.”
She frowned, still frustrated with how raw her throat was and how scratchy her voice sounded. “I can’t move in with you.”
“Why not?” He laughed. “You have two whole rooms to yourself and your very own bathroom. And I won’t charge you rent until you find a new place to stay.” He glanced over at her and winked.
She relaxed a little and thought about it. Really thought about it.
“My car?”
“Is already at my place.” He shifted as he drove and pulled something out of his jean pockets.
“Our place.” He held up a key ring with four keys on it.
“Or I can drop you off at the camp. I hear they’ve blocked out the Love Shack for several months just for you.
” His eyebrows wiggled and she groaned. “I take it that’s a no? ”
“Not that living on the campground wouldn’t be fun, but…” She shook her head. “I’ll take a room on a farm with silly donkeys and horses over giving up my freedom. I know for a fact that if I moved into a cabin, the Wildflowers would…”
“Hover?” he offered. She nodded. “They love you,” he said easily. “Which is why my back seat is full of those.” He motioned to all the flowers and balloons he’d carried out and packed into the truck.
Beth sank back against the seat, her fingers brushing over the edge of the light blanket Aaron had tucked around her before they left the hospital. She’d been chilled at first, but now she realized it was probably close to ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit outside.
She had thought she’d already cried herself dry, but the sight of all those balloons and flowers in the backseat tugged at the fragile thread holding her together.
Her life was ash.
She’d walked through everything that had happened that night with Chief Rowland the day before, answering all of his questions.
The smell of smoke still somehow clung to her hair even after three showers.
She had stared at the man across the hospital bed as he asked her, gently but firmly, if she could positively identify the man that she’d seen in her apartment that night.
She’d wanted to say yes. Wanted to spit Ian’s name into the silence and be done with it.
But the truth was, she couldn’t. She hadn’t been able to make out a face in the shadow that hovered over her when she woke.
Only a weight, a presence, and then darkness.
So she told him the truth. She couldn’t say with certainty that it had been Ian.
Her restraining order would stand while they investigated the cause of the fire, but until then, she was left with nothing more than the familiar taste of fear and the knowledge that she’d still be looking over her shoulder.
She closed her eyes now, her throat aching, not just from the smoke but from the memory of all that she’d lost. Clothes, books, pictures of her dad because she’d been careless enough to leave them in a dresser drawer.
The quilt her grandmother had made for her son, which had been handed down to her.
It was all gone. Every piece of her life she’d fought to carve out, burned down in an hour.
The antique bookstore below had fueled the flames even more, ensuring that everything she’d owned was turned into ash.
And yet here was Aaron, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other draped casually across the console, holding hers, like this was the most natural thing in the world. Like her being in his truck, on the way to his farm, was exactly where she belonged.
“You’re too calm about this,” she rasped, tilting her head to study him.
“About what?” He flicked her a glance, his mouth curving at the corner.
“Taking me in. Having me underfoot. Dealing with all of this. Dealing with Ian,” she added. “It’s… a lot.”
Aaron shrugged, eyes forward. “It’s not a lot if it’s you.”
Her chest tightened. She wasn’t used to being someone’s not a lot. According to Ian, she had been too much—too needy, too emotional, too fragile, too broken. To her mother, she had been nothing but fault and sin. But here, in Aaron’s truck, she wasn’t too much or not enough. She was just… Beth.
She turned her face towards the window, blinking hard at the sight of the road stretching towards the horizon, calm dark blue water out on either side of the windows as they headed across the bay bridge towards Pelican Point.
For the first time since the fire, the crushing weight in her chest eased just a little.
Maybe she had lost everything. But maybe, sitting here now, she hadn’t lost the one thing that mattered most—her chance to really start over.
Aaron’s truck rumbled up the long gravel drive, and Beth’s chest tightened again.
The last time she’d seen this place had been full of sunshine and laughter, donkeys playing soccer, and Aaron pleasing her under the oak tree.
Now she was arriving with nothing but a borrowed blanket wrapped around her shoulders, new clothes her friends had purchased for her, and a knot of fear tucked deep in her ribs.
The farmhouse came into view, soft yellow light spilling from the windows, the porch swing moving gently in the evening breeze. Homey. Safe. Too safe. Like she didn’t deserve to be here.
Aaron cut the engine and glanced over at her. “Ready?”
Her laugh came out raspy, almost a cough. “I suppose.”
He squeezed her hand before climbing out, then was at her side in seconds, steadying her as her feet touched the ground.
She expected the quiet creak of the porch, the warm smell of Aaron’s place, maybe the sound of the old dog barking a greeting.
What she didn’t expect was the eruption of voices the second he opened the front door.
“SURPRISE!”
She would have stumbled back, eyes wide, if Aaron hadn’t had a good hold of her.
In the space surrounding his entryway stood a dozen of her coworkers and all of the Wildflowers with their spouses and children. People spilled out from the living room and kitchen, grinning like fools, cheering her.
“What?” she asked Aaron.
He shrugged. “Not my idea.”
“It’s ours.” Zoey and the rest stepped forward. “A welcome home party along with a little help from people who love you.” She motioned behind her as people cleared the pathway.
There, sitting on the large dining table, were bags and boxes with her name on them. There were even long garment bags draped over a few chairs. Hannah and Scarlett wheeled in a small cart with balloons tied to it stacked with wrapped boxes.
“What—” Beth started. Her raw throat broke the word in two as it closed up with the emotions that flooded her.
“Welcome home,” Elle said, hugging her lightly, careful not to jostle her too much. “Or, well, welcome to your new temporary home.”
Aaron laughed low behind her, hand resting against the small of her back. “They wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Beth blinked rapidly, fighting tears as the group swept her inside. She was shoved into a soft chair as box after box was delivered to her. They all took turns explaining what they’d brought.
“Clothes in your size and style,” Aubrey said proudly, hanging the bags on a hook.
“Laptop and headphones, so you can keep writing and working,” Jules added, handing her a sleek box.
“A new phone,” Scarlett said, setting it gently on the table with a charger beside it. “Already programmed with all of your numbers, thanks to the guys at the store.” She rolled her eyes.
“And purses,” Zoey cut in with a grin. “Because everyone needs options.”
Beth couldn’t even speak. Her throat burned, but it wasn’t from the fire anymore. It was the weight of love pressing in on her from every side, wrapping around her like the quilt she’d lost. Only this one couldn’t be destroyed.
After she’d opened all of her new things and they’d been shuffled up to her two rooms, dinner followed, because of course it did.
Isaac, head chef of the camp’s kitchens, had arranged to bring enough food to feed an army, and soon the kitchen table was covered in steaming trays with roast chicken, roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and something that smelled so good Beth thought she might cry again.
Plates were filled, glasses clinked, and voices lifted in laughter and stories.
A plate was set in her lap thanks to Aaron, who sat next to her and ate as he chatted with Aiden about a dresser or something. She could only hear half of the conversation.
She sat quietly for a long time, just watching, absorbing, as she nibbled on her food.
The ache of loss was still there, sharp and deep, along with the bruises and cuts that still ached when she moved the wrong way.
But sitting next to Aaron, surrounded by the people who refused to let her disappear into ashes with her belongings, she felt the first fragile threads of hope tugging her forward.
For the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe: maybe she wasn’t as alone as she had always thought.
Then her new cell phone rang, and her mother’s number appeared on the screen.
“Want me to take it?” Aaron said after seeing the name.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, but…” She glanced around.