25. Wombat
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wombat
It wasn’t the honeymoon suite at the barn, but my place was private. Honor followed me inside, and I pinned her against the end of the half-wall by the refrigerator. Clothes were already getting unbuttoned. Hers, mostly.
Although, if she unbuttoned my jeans her hand would slide down my pants easier.
I paused to broach that topic, but wanted to ease her into it. “Did you have fun?”
She looked me in the eye. “I did. Mary and the others are really nice.” There was a second of hesitation.
“Sierra didn’t bite your head off, did she?” Kid’s woman was a fucking witch sometimes. Other times? Well, the jury was out on that. She meant well, most of the time.
“No. She…” Honor swallowed. “We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I knew that was wrong of me to say. “Okay, maybe we do, but can it wait?” Hint, hint?
Honor took a deep breath. “I didn’t go to the doctor.”
Oh, boy… we were doing this. I scrambled for words to say. “I want you to be healthy…” The rest of it wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t say, “I want the baby to be healthy,” because even that might be enough to send her spiraling.
“Some of the members have children.”
I sucked in a bracing breath. “Yup, and some don’t.”
“Why the hesitation?”
Was I on the witness stand? “I don’t want to say something wrong.” And even admitting that was going to start a shitstorm. “I care about you. I care about what you feel, what you want, and I know what I want isn’t as important.”
Her tone turned sharp. “How can you say that?”
“Easy. You are more important to me than my own feelings.”
She shoved me away. “Don’t say that!”
I held my hands out. “Why not? It’s the truth.”
Her mouth hung open. “It’s horrible.”
Where did I go wrong? I knew at least a half-dozen women who’d swoon if I told them what I’d just said. “Why?”
“Because—” she tensed up. Her body had a slight tremor starting somewhere between her shoulders and her fingertips.
Very carefully, I invaded her space again. With my voice as gentle as I could, I asked, “Why, Honor?”
Her mouth worked. “I’m inferior, broken…”
“No you’re not. You’re nearly perfection, at least in my book you are.”
Her head shook. “Even if I am pregnant, it’s not…”
“We take one day at a time. Having kids, not having kids, doesn’t matter. You, your health, your emotions, they matter.”
“And yours?”
“If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Her expression hardened. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes it is.”
She searched my face. “I didn’t want to take the Plan B because I—”
“You want to be pregnant. You want—” It was my turn to not say what hung in the air around us.
Her single nod was weak.
“You want hope. You want a fantasy you think you can’t have.”
“There’s no hope, and fantasy is stupid.”
Now she was just pissing me off. But I had to speak, reply, and do something to fix this.
“Okay, reality time. We’re doing this. One day at a time, but we’re not going to be naive or fuck this up more than it already is.
You will go to the doctor, get checked out.
And if—even if we’re not admitting it—if you are…
you are going to follow the doctor’s orders.
Take vitamins, whatever it takes. Got it? ”
Her chin picked up the tremors from the rest of her body. “I did all that before.”
She needed reassurances I couldn’t give. “I know. But ignoring it won’t be good, right?”
The glare she shot me was brief. “You sound like my therapist.”
“Hippie parents. I blame them.”
She snorted. “We are not naming them—shit.” She broke free from my grasp and walked all the way to the end of the living room. It was almost as far as she could go without leaving the building.
“Shit is not an option. I don’t care how new-age you want to be. It ain’t.”
Another giggle. Then, in all seriousness, she squared off with me. “We’re not picking out names.”
“But you’re going to get checked, right?”
A nod.
Good girl.
Her eyes shot to mine.
Did I say that out loud? Or did she know me that well? I winked at her.
Her coyness pretended she’d not seen that. So I stalked her into a corner. The moonlight played on her cheeks. A soft glow lit her face. I bent in to kiss her, then froze.
That glow? It was orange, not silver. I looked out the windows and swore.
“The barn’s on fire. Call 9-1-1. Go get Lemon. If Fry’s there, get him, too.”
I lit out of the house and grabbed the garden hose. I don’t know what I was thinking. It would do nothing against the flames. They’d already crawled up one side of the building.
That pissed me off and shoved me into action. I picked up the trough of water we left out and let the icy splash freeze my nuts into cubes. Then I slipped off my outer shirt and wrapped it around my face.
I got the goats out first. Stupid assholes ran in every direction but the damn door. The donkey only took one slap to make him hightail it out the door. Whoever said they were dumb was damn wrong.
The cages of rabbits went next. Thank goodness most of them had been released or were still in the house with the five litters of kittens we had.
Lemon joined me and tried to run back into the barn to save some of the grain.
I stopped her. “Round up the animals.” I glanced over at Honor.
She was on the phone with someone. Hopefully, the fire department.
I turned the faucet on and doused myself one more time. I was shivering and half insane, but there was one more animal I needed to rescue. I ran inside and stood in the middle of the span. I searched the rafters, but they were already dense with smoke.
“Hoot!” I tried to whistle, but my lips were already dried out from the heat. “Hootie-hoot. Too-too-too-too-too.” My mimicry of his call wasn’t perfect, but usually he’d flutter down and hit my shoulder.
Unless…
“Hoot!”
Lemon ran inside and tugged me backward. “Move it, dum-dum!”
“Hoot!”
“Asshole. I’m not losing my brother over some damn bird.” She coughed against the smoke that was filling the space.
I grabbed her and carried her out, intent on setting her ass down and going back in, but as I emerged, Honor threw herself on top of me and pulled me down. The weight of them both working against me was too great. I hacked up smoke and tears as the barn glowed an angry red against the sky.
“Hoot?”
Lemon tried to console me. “He probably flew out. You know he’s not caged.”
“Yeah? But he’s stupid.” I coughed deeper because the snot and pain was drowning me. “Why couldn’t he leave?”
Honor hugged me from behind, rocking as the fire department arrived and until the paramedics stuck an oxygen mask on my face. Then she dealt with the questions along with Lemon.
Both of them were soot-stained.
I puzzled over that for a long time. Until I looked at my hands.
I was covered in ash and black stains. My formerly wet clothing was perfectly dry and my skin was raw and red.
The paramedic working on me suggested, “We need to take you in. Get you checked out.”
But that would leave my sister and Honor unprotected. “I need to call someone first.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Walt.
“Who’s dying?”
Thankfully no one, unless you counted the missing animal. “We had a fire at the farm. Can you spare someone to come over and keep watch. They’re taking me in.”
“You hurt?”
“Smoke—” My cough answered better than I could explain.
“They’ll hold you for twenty-four hours. Boots’ll meet you at the hospital, I’m sending Fly to the house. He knows Lemon best.”
I struggled to get a word of thanks out. Then the mask went on. I lay back on the gurney to rest and worry.
Honor came over and held my hand. “It isn’t your fault.”
I stared at her. Words weren’t helping right now.
“It isn’t.”
I pulled the mask away so she could hear my words. “I know you mean well—”
Instead of listening, she pulled the mask from my fingers and stuck it down on my face so hard it was painful. “You will listen to doctor’s orders. Understand?”
Only if you will.
Her mouth opened, then pursed tight again. “We both will, got it?”
Fierce. I nodded.
She lessened the pressure on the mask. I was able to adjust it so it wasn’t biting into my skin so hard. Then I motioned for her to get closer. I needed her.
“Ma’am, you need to step aside. We’re taking him in.”
Her fingers tightened on mine. Then she let go.
Never let go.
I tried to sit up, but they’d already begun to strap me in so they could lift me inside. My arm stretched out, grasping for her. And there was nothing but air.
Boots was still half-drunk. He replayed his own experience with a fire and this hospital four times. Olivia joined us later, interrupting his fifth retelling.
“Your color is better than his,” she observed.
“Don’t get him started. I’ve already heard the story.” Four times. I shot him a glare.
“Okay. Walt has Fly at the farm, and Sierra came over to help Lemon with the animals.”
That was good. “Where’s Honor?”
“She took Dumb Ass and Molly to her place. That way Lemon didn’t have her hands as full.” Her words sounded rehearsed.
I relaxed a bit. DA was recovering well, but he still needed to be watched not to eat anything but the prescribed food. “Did Lemon go over his diet?”
“Yes, and Honor wrote it down.”
“You were there?”
“Mary, Sierra, and I went there from barn. We rode with Hayley and Snake, and he dropped me off last…here.”
The women were rallying. “Does Walt know?”
Olivia shot me a “duh” look. “Who did you call?”
“Right.” I had my mind on other things. “Did they find Hoot?”
“T-the owl? No.”
Damn it.
Olivia tugged on Boots’ sleeve and whispered in his ear. She was quiet enough about it that I couldn’t hear. He frowned. “I’ll tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
He hesitated. “The fire marshal thinks it’s arson.”
That tracked with my luck. “Was Honor there when he said that?”
Olivia tugged on her husband’s sleeve harder.
“Liv, just tell him. It’s been a long night.”
“But…” her mouth worked.
Boots sighed, then grimaced a bit. “Okay telephone game. You whisper it all to me. You don’t have to talk to anyone else unless I get it wrong.”
Olivia slid closer and pressed her body against his. It must be bad if she was having issues with her autism so hard that it clammed her up.
Her voice was quiet as she poured out what she remembered.
“Honor got angry that he jumped to conclusions about the fire. And then she started spitting out all sorts of legal jargon, and finally they yelled at each other for about two minutes. Eventually, he walked away saying she wouldn’t change his mind, and she’d have to file in court if she wanted to fight it.
“And then, Lemon asked if she should file a claim with her insurance because if it was arson, then they wouldn’t get enough money to rebuild, and the company would probably drop her, and… it was awful.”
Boots looked at me. I nodded back, letting him know he didn’t have to play telephone to tell me anything. “Ask her if it was arson, who started it?”
He murmured my question in her ear.
“They don’t know,” Olivia said.
I mused aloud. “Nickel?”
Boots nodded. “Good idea. Any cameras?”
“I had a couple put up a week ago. They might have caught something. It was mostly on the house, but I had one pointed at the barn. It’s mounted on the garage roof in that little gazebo thing in the middle.”
“That is called a cupola.” Olivia couldn’t talk to me directly, but give her a piece of trivia and she practically shouted it.
“Right, I forgot the word, thank you.”
She beamed, then her face fell. “I’m sorry I c-can’t…”
“It’s okay. Tell him what else your photographic memory caught.”
Her mouth fell open. “You know about that?”
“How long have we known each other?”
Her mind worked. “Almost as long as Boots and I…oh.”
That freed her up enough to lay everything out and answer our questions.
I worked with Boots to form a plan of attack.
It started with a couple of phone calls.
Nickel wasn’t answering, and his partner in all things criminal and technical was holed up in the honeymoon suite with the redhead who’d beaten me in a tit-flashing contest. Nasty was not happy to be interrupted.
Eventually, he sent another prospect to the farm to climb a ladder up onto my roof to retrieve the card from the camera in the cupola.
The cloud feed cameras showed nothing. Whoever it was, they avoided the house and the cameras on the road.
This wasn’t some random person sneaking in to cause mischief. We had an enemy.