40. Fisher
CHAPTER FORTY
fisher
“I’d be honored.” Bill beams as his wife pats his forearm.
I don’t know how being nominated as the island’s new mailman and delivery guy is an honor, but at least Doris’s husband is happy. And more than that, the task is no longer mine. Maybe I should feel sad about the loss of the jobs I’ve held for the last few years, but all I feel is freedom.
Though the sensation is dampened by concern, because Libby still isn’t here.
Wilder elbows me and glares at my leg, which I only now realize is bouncing. I don’t know why, but I can’t ignore the unease that nags at me over Libby’s absence.
I reread her message.
My Princess: Hey, Hacker. I forgot that I need to…oh, here we go. Yes, we got it. Good girl, Putt-Putt…ooh, good girl. I’d love you to call me good girl later…but after painting, okay?
Me: English, Lib.
My Princess: Oh sorry. I was dictating the message.
You know how I cheer Putt-Putt on. If I don’t, she doesn’t take the curves well.
But we made it. You’re probably already at the meeting.
I’m coming, I promise. Just doing a little painting at the school first. I’ll meet you there. Stand firm. No more jobs for my hacker.
Even her clarification makes little sense. But I love the my hacker part. Every time she claims me, my chest swells. And then I do dumb shit. Like attend a meeting I used to avoid at all costs because she wants me here.
Me: Everything going okay?
Her response will probably be nonsensical, but just hearing from her will calm my anxiety.
“Fisher?” Cank’s voice pulls me from my ruminations. “You approve?”
I blink. Approve what?
Wilder elbows me in the side and hisses, “Just say yes.”
“Sure.” I nod and once again force my leg still.
“Then it’s settled. Fisher will maintain his role as acting sheriff. Bill will take over the mail and grocery deliveries. And since Star lives close to the farm, she’ll help Todd keep Betty out of the strawberries.”
Eyes narrowed, I search the crowd for Flora, certain she’ll pipe up and insist I’m still on squirrel duty. Oddly, the woman isn’t here. My muscles tighten with unease again. She never misses a town meeting.
I force myself to relax, rolling my shoulders out. Jeez, I need to chill. This could be a good thing. Maybe she’s found something to keep herself entertained.
Next to me, Wilder clears his throat. “And my petition?”
Cank nods. “Yeah. We took a vote. You can take on the teal and white buoys. You’ll now have sixty traps. Teal, yellow, and white, per the union.”
Wilder pumps his fist.
“Did the mainland approve too?” I whisper.
Lips pressed together, he nods. “Two weeks ago.”
That means I no longer have to go out on the water in the frigid New England winter.
An instant sense of relief makes me feel buoyant.
Mixed in with the sensation, though, is a hint of guilt.
Hunter loved getting out on the ocean, even when the mercury dropped below ten.
Me? I hate it. I shake off the guilt and take solace knowing that Hunter’s legacy will continue through Wilder and his own passion for the open ocean, while I get to be home and dry.
And warm.
I glance over my shoulder again, but still no Libby, and she hasn’t responded to my text either.
“What about my issue?” Blue calls from the first row. “I’ve petitioned twice and gotten two hundred and twelve signatures this summer.”
On the other side of Wilder, Mrs. K groans.
Her son, naturally, chuckles. “He’s my hero.”
“We cannot put up nude sculptures that point the way to each landmark!” Doris exclaims.
She’s not wrong. The island is full of children all summer. Really, even if it was just Sutton here, I’d veto that without a second thought.
“This is censorship. You’re taking away my freedom of expression. It’s communist,” Blue rants.
“These are the days your father should be here,” Mrs. K huffs, eyeing Wilder.
“Art shouldn’t be censored,” Ivy says. “But maybe we can use mermaids and mermen instead?”
“We don’t need more fish. We got enough fish forever.” Blue pushes to his feet. “I’m telling ya’ll, them young people are on the phones. We need something that the Instagram will go nuts over. And that’s naked pointers.”
“There are kids here,” Todd says. He himself has a fifteen-year-old son and a ten-year-old daughter. “We can’t have porn statues pointing to the farm and brewery.”
Wilder chuckles, his shoulder shaking.
“It is not funny,” his mother hisses.
They continue their back-and-forth, but I lose the conversation when a light dances outside the window, catching my eye. A bright orange glow coming from up the hill.
I lean forward, squinting. For a heartbeat, I watch it flicker before I understand, and my gut plummets.
“Oh shit.” I jump out of my chair. “ Fire .”
The whole room is up and rushing to the door or window to get a look. With as dry as this summer has been, any fire is a potential for disaster. But this fire is coming from up the hill by the school. The school where Libby is painting.
I push through the crowd, heading for the door in a rush.
My heart stops as I step onto the church’s wooden porch.
The fire isn’t near the school. No, the school is fucking ablaze.
A loud pop makes me flinch, and then a window bursts, sending flames licking up the front of the building.
The entire entrance is engulfed in large flames and thick smoke.
All the bushes around the red schoolhouse are burning red and orange and even blue.
Fuck. Libby has to be out of the building. She has to be.
Heart hammering and gut churning, I jump off the steps and sprint down the path. I hurdle the gate rather than stopping to open it and pick up my pace.
“Fisher!” Eddy screams from behind me.
“Keep Sutton back,” I call without turning. I can’t look back. I can’t slow down. Not while the flames continue to overtake the once perfect schoolhouse.
“ Sutton’s with Libby .” Her voice bleeds desperation.
I stumble, and my knees almost buckle.
No .
Not both of them.
I swallow hard, fighting the urge to retch, forcing my legs faster. The gravel flies behind me as I run up the hill. I can’t lose both of them. I can’t lose either of them.
“I’ll get them,” I promise, but my heart pounds wildly and my mind reels at the possibility that I might be too late.
“Fisher, wait,” Wilder calls from behind me.
I don’t even slow. Up ahead, through the smoke, a figure appears. A person stepping out from behind the building. Only one person. Too tall to be Sutton. My breath comes faster, but I’ll get Sutton out too. I’ll get them both out.
As I come up even with the front of the school, the woman’s red hair is visible. Fuck. Not Libby.
“Fisher.” The voice that normally sends a shudder down my spine has my heart lurching right out of my chest. “Stay back. The fire is out of control. It got too big too fast.”
I don’t have time to even consider why Flora is here or worry that she’s too close to the schoolhouse for her own safety. But as I dart past her, she clutches my arm.
With a rough shake, I break free and push past her. “Sutton and Libby are inside.”
“Sutton!” she shrieks, grasping for me again. “It was only supposed to be Libby, not Sutton. I didn’t know. I just was getting rid of…”
Every muscle locks. Every nerve goes on high alert. Higher than they have been.
What the fuck did she say?
“If there is even a single scratch on either of them, I’ll kill you.” I yank my arm away.
“I would never hurt Sutton!” Her screams are drowned out by the roaring of the fire as I turn the corner to the back of the school. The fire isn’t as bad here, but the brush around the base of the building has already caught.
Fuck .
“Libby! Sutton!” I yell over the blaze. My heart pounds wildly, blood whooshing in my ears. Smoke stings my eyes as sweat starts to trickle down my brow. “Sutton? Libby?” My throat burns with the force.
“Fisher!”
At the sound of my daughter’s voice, I snap my head up.
She’s balanced on a window ledge about five feet off the ground at the far corner of the building.
Her face is flushed and covered in soot.
Behind her peach shirt, the fire glows hot, and smoke billows out around her.
All I can see of Libby are her hands. They bracket Sutton’s waist, holding her steady as the fire creeps along the ground below them.
“Jump, Sutton,” Libby says. “You can do it. Jump. It’s not as high as it looks.”
She’s right, but I’ll be damned if I don’t catch them when they jump.
“Fisher!” Sutton calls again.
“Jump,” I order as I dart over. “I’ve got you.”
With a choked sob, she flings herself out the window, over the flames and into my arms. The feel of her warm body hitting mine is the greatest sensation in the world. I give her one quick squeeze, then set her on her feet.
“Okay, sweet pea. I need you to run up the hill and get away from the fire. I’ve got to get Libby out.”
As tears pour down her cheeks, she turns back to Libby, who’s waving at her to go.
The sight of the fire, already burning brighter, surrounding Libby has my heart racing.
“Go, Sutton. Now!”
She startles at the command, but finally, her little legs start moving.
Libby has climbed up onto the ledge now. She glances back, then zeroes in on me. A loud crash sounds behind her, and her eyes go wide.
“Your turn, Princess,” I coax, trying like hell to keep my voice even and my fear at bay. She doesn’t have time to hesitate.
I hold my arms out to her, beckoning her to me. If I could walk through the fire and scoop her up, I would. But that’s not how this works. She needs to trust me. She needs to jump.
“Come on, Princess. I’ve got you.”
Another loud crack has my heart hammering and terror slamming into me.
Without another second of hesitation, she jumps.
The force with which her body crashes into mine almost knocks me off my feet.
As I teeter and work to keep my balance, I hold her tight to my chest. Her face is covered in soot, her hair damp with sweat.
She smells like smoke, and her cough sounds painful.
When she melts against me, her body going limp, relief sinks deep into my bones. She’s alive. She’s here. They’re both okay.
“You saved me again.” She heaves a deep breath, then presses her lips against mine.
I kiss her back, then help her to stand and hold her at arm’s length, inspecting every inch of her. “When you need me, I’ll always come,” I promise.
Between one heartbeat and the next, her body goes taut again, and her voice breaks. “Sutton?”
I scoop her up, then spin and move toward our girl. When the three of us are together, I drop to my knees and pull my daughter into my arms too.
Both. I’ve got them both. Shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline and abject relief, I hold them tight to my chest. Thank God.
“Are you okay?” I pull back, frantically assessing Sutton the way I did Libby. Their clothes are covered in soot, and so is their skin, but neither looks hurt.
“I’m okay.” Sutton tilts away from me, eyeing Libby, but I’m making it hard, since I can’t release either of them. I can’t even loosen my hold.
“Me too, pretty girl. I think.” Libby swallows. At the sound of a loud crash, we turn. The roof of the school caves and lands with a devastating clatter. The crackling of the fire intensifies, and the flames lick up over the walls.
In unison, the girls gasp. My heart damn near splats on the ground in front of us, but I remind myself that both girls are right here with me. It might have been close, but they’re safe.
“I don’t know what happened.” Libby’s voice shakes. “We were painting and singing along to music. Then all of a sudden, smoke was everywhere.”
I know exactly what happened.
Teeth gritted, I set my sights on the woman up the road who’s glaring back at us. The girls might be fine, but Flora Henries will pay for this.