A Minute to Smile Page 15

  “Yep, but this one’s mine,” he said.

  “Yes.” She’d given it to him for his birthday and nearly teared up over his excitement at opening the present—he’d literally shrieked with joy.

  Daniel gave her his hand-me-down copy of Uncle Wiggly stories. “Can we read three?”

  She patted the spot next to her on the bed. “I’ll read five.”

  “All right!” He snuggled next to her. Surrounded by the moist warmth of them, Esther read. She absorbed the soap-fresh smell of their skin, the herbal scent of the shampoo, admired the rosy glow of scrubbed little-boy faces. Although sometimes she hurried through bedtime stories because there were a dozen chores she had to do before she could go to bed herself, tonight she was sorry when it was time for them to climb into their bunk beds.

  She tucked them in, feeling a dragging sense of unease, one that had bothered her all day. She didn’t believe in premonitions, but thought there might have been something she’d overlooked. As she listened to their prayers, she tried to think what it could be, but nothing jelled.

  Squatting down to hug Jeremy, she said, “You remember, now, horses are very strong animals and you have to be very careful with them.”

  “I know,” he said with a note of impatience. “Okay.” She smiled and rose to hug Daniel on the top bunk. “You know you can call me whenever you want to.”

  Tears flooded his brilliant eyes. “If I don’t like it there, can I come home?”

  Esther swallowed back the flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. “Of course you can. But I think you’ll have a wonderful time. Your daddy is so excited.”

  He hugged her hard. “I wish you could come, too.”

  “I know.” She kissed his forehead. “Go to sleep now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As she went downstairs, the strange sense of doom stuck with her. What had she forgotten?

  She called Melissa, then Abe, and got no answer. She considered calling Alexander, but felt too dangerously weepy and tired to burden him. Finally she called her mother in Georgia. The soft tones of the thick Southern voice comforted her as nothing else could have. Even her father, as brisk and uncomfortable as always with displays of affection, made her feel better.

  As she hung up, she was yawning. It had been a long week. What she needed was a good night’s sleep.

  But she didn’t get it. She dreamed of John driving away in the car with the children while she chased behind it, holding up something she couldn’t identify that he’d forgotten to take with him. When she looked down to see what it was, she found she held a safe in her hands—a safe to which only Esther knew the combination.

  Finally, hot and thirsty, she got up just before dawn and went downstairs for a cup of coffee. She took it out into the backyard, wearing a sweater against the morning chill. A blackbird sang in an elm tree and a flutter of wrens chirped in the herb garden, catching bugs for breakfast. In the east, a pale glow heralded the rising sun.

  The imagery of her dream wasn’t hard to fathom. Despite all her protests to the contrary, she was worried that John would be unable to keep the children safe from harm. That was what had worried her last night. It was silly. If anything, he was overprotective.

  The calm quiet of nature at dawn eased her worry and she went back inside to make a grocery list. She flicked on the dining room light, and the bulb, with a buzz and a pop, burned out. Rolling her eyes, she went to the kitchen for a fresh bulb.

  Befuddled by the restless night, she forgot what she’d come for and stood in the middle of the room, trying to remember. She noticed the coleus drooping in the window and gave it a drink, then absently plucked off a few withered leaves.

  Light bulb. She snapped her fingers, fished one from the cupboard and returned to the dining room.

  An unmistakable odor of fire greeted her. In horror, she glanced up to see a tendril of smoke curling from the nail holes around the light fixture.

  She raced upstairs to the boys’ room, flinging back their covers. “Get up,” she said in an urgent voice. “Get up!” She shook Jeremy and then Daniel, who barely stirred. Jeremy sat up blinking. “Get out of bed and go outside right now,” she told her youngest, and stood up to scoop the sleeping Daniel into her arms.

  He flopped on her shoulder, all fifty pounds of him, but she didn’t dare take the time she’d need to get him awake enough to walk on his own.

  “Why, Mommy?” Jeremy asked. He padded behind her down the stairs, “Why?”

  “Let’s just get outside, okay?”

  “But I don’t have my shoes!”

  “You can go out without them, honey. Just this once, it’ll be okay.” Breathing hard over the strain of carrying Daniel down the long, steep stairs, she urged Jeremy along. “Don’t worry. Let’s just get outside.”

  Smoke was filling the dining room by the time they reached the bottom of the steps and her heart squeezed painfully.

  Jeremy stopped. “A fire! Mommy!”

  “I know, Jeremy. Come on!”

  Once all three of them were safely out in the front yard, Esther ran next door to use the telephone. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon as she pounded frantically at the heavy wooden door. “Mr. Hernandez! Help!” she cried, and was about to jump down from the porch and try another neighbor when the elderly man flung open the door.

  Before he could speak, she said, “Oh, thank God. My house is on fire. Call the fire department, please.”

  He whirled, instantly awake, and leaving the door open, ran toward his kitchen. Trusting in his lightning response, she returned to her boys, who were both, by now, crying.

  She gathered them into her arms. “Shh. The fire department is coming. It’ll be okay.” But over their heads she saw black smoke drifting lazily out an open window. The house was eighty years old—heaven only knew what had gathered between the walls.

  Suddenly Jeremy broke away from her. “My blanket!” he screeched, running for the house. “My blanket’s on my bed!”

  “No!” Esther cried, and tackled him as he reached the steps. “No, Jeremy. I’m sorry. You can’t go in there.” She carried him back to the distant spot by the sidewalk as he burst into tears. “It’ll be okay, honey. The firemen will be here and put out the fire.”

  Mr. Hernandez, wrapped in a striped bathrobe, hurried out. “They’re on their way.” He glanced at the window and saw the smoke. “I hope they hurry,” he said grimly, then looked at the shivering children. “What am I thinking?” he muttered. “You boys come in my house and have hot chocolate, eh? We’ll watch the firemen through the windows.”

  A scream of sirens sounded in the distance. “He’s right, boys. Go on inside with Mr. Hernandez and as soon as I talk to the firemen, I’ll be in, too.”

  Even summer mornings were chilly so close to the mountains and the boys, dressed only in lightweight pajamas, agreed. Esther tugged her sweater more closely around her demure cotton nightgown, thankful she had been up so early, that this had happened in the daytime…

  She shuddered as the fire truck came into view, pushing away all thoughts of “what if?” There was enough to deal with as it was.

  * * *

  In the end, it didn’t take long to get the fire under control. It had traveled through the ceiling in the dining room, into the wall between the two bedrooms upstairs. When it was put out, and the firemen had gathered up most of their tools and hoses, a strapping fireman walked over to Esther. “You know how the fire started, ma’am?”

  “Not exactly,” she replied. “But I can guess. The wiring?”

  He made a grim face. “Yeah.” He tipped his hat back on his head and met her eyes. “I got a look at it behind that wall, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to recommend to the chief that this be declared unsafe to occupy until you get that rewired.”

  Esther took a long breath and blew it out, looking at the house. She nodded. “I understand.”

  “You were real lucky,” he commented.

  “I kno
w,” she said, but her mind was filling with the whirl of problems the decree would cause. She had no idea how much it would cost to do the rewiring and in the meantime, she had no place to stay or any means of supporting herself. “Thank you,” she said.

  “I shut the electricity off in the back there.” He seemed to notice her bare feet for the first time. “You can get some of your stuff after we get the cleanup done, but in the meantime, you want one of us to get you and your boys some clothes?”

  Still stunned, Esther just looked at him for a moment. “Uh, there’s a suitcase in my kitchen.”

  He nodded.

  Then she remembered Jeremy hurtling toward the house. “There is something you could get for me, if you would.” She felt numb. “In the back bedroom, there’s a small blue quilt. Maybe on the top bunk.”

  He pursed his lips briefly, seemed about to say something, then said, “I’ll go look.”

  The fireman returned a few minutes later, carrying the suitcase she had packed for the children as well as the sooty, soggy blanket. “This it?” he asked and smiled.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes.”

  “It fell on the floor,” he commented, handing it over. “Good thing.” He cleared his throat. “The mattresses were right up against that wall. They got eaten up a little. Have to replace them.”

  Again, Esther nodded dumbly. There was no sensation at all within her. Nothing. She carried the suitcase and blanket over to Mr. Hernandez’s house, got the boys dressed, rinsed the smoky blanket in the sink and hung it over his porch railing to dry. A bevy of neighbors brought food and coffee. Someone gave Esther a housedress to wear, although she was still barefoot.

  She called John and he came over in a matter of minutes. “Are you guys okay?” he asked with concern.

  “Daddy!” Jeremy screeched. “My blanket got all dirty with smoke!”

  “It did?” he said, then stood up and touched Esther’s arm. “I’m sorry, Esther.”

  “Why?”

  “I should have realized you had a short up there and that’s why you had to put in a new light bulb so often. Damn.” Hands on his hips, he stared at the house. “I’ll understand if you want to cancel the trip to the ranch.”

  Daniel overheard and jumped to his feet. “No! Please, Mommy?”

  Esther shook her head. “No. Considering everything, this is best. By the time they come back, I’ll have worked this out somehow.”

  “Are you sure? You look a little shaky.”

  “I am a little shaky,” she admitted. “But really, taking them to the ranch is the best possible solution.’’

  He scowled. “Okay,” he said finally and picked up the suitcase. “You call if you want me to bring them back, or if you want to come up to the ranch or anything, okay?”

  At moments like this, when John let his good heart show, she remembered why she had loved him once. “I will,” she said with a smile. “Take good care of them, John,” she said.

  “Count on it, kid.” He chucked her on the chin lightly.

  She smiled halfheartedly and walked outside with him. She felt as brittle as old glass as she picked up Jeremy’s blanket, but in a way, the fire had relieved her odd sense of impending disaster. Her subconscious had obviously been picking up the same warnings John had cursed over—she shouldn’t have had to replace light bulbs so frequently.

  “Esther!’’

  She looked up, still lost in her shaky daze, and walking toward them was Alexander. Sunlight glinted in his dark curls and he walked with the long strides and easy grace she had grown accustomed to.

  And quite suddenly her numbness faded, to be replaced with an almost overwhelming sense of relief. He took one look at her face and pulled her close without a word. Esther let go of a long, shaky breath, pressing her face into the comfort of his powerful chest, smelling soap and cologne and the heady notes of the man himself.

  “Alexander,” she said quietly. Thank God.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alexander took her to his house when the children had departed. He showed her to the bathroom and brought out fresh towels. Then, since she had no shoes and only the baggy blue housedress a neighbor had loaned her to wear, he drove to a nearby department store and purchased a pair of sandals and a simple sleeveless dress he thought looked right for her. He even bought panties, but floundered when he came to a bra. Frowning, he asked a salesclerk for advice and she brought him a sort of generic, stretchy garment she assured him would work.

  When he returned to his house, Esther sat on the front porch, a cup of coffee on the boards beside her. Her hair, still damp, floated in glittering waves around her porcelain face. She saw Alexander and pressed a finger to her ripe lips, a shine of amusement in her eyes. Puzzled, he paused—and his mouth nearly dropped.

  For there below a juniper bush was Piwacket, chasing a long piece of string Esther wiggled between the branches. The cat’s eyes were wide and bright, his enormous paws batting the string as playfully as if he were a kitten.

  He grinned. “Tame all sorts of wild beasts, don’t you?” he said dryly.

  Piwacket looked up at the sound of Alexander’s voice and sauntered out into the yard, ignoring Esther completely.

  She chuckled, the sound as rich as good cognac. “I guess I’m only allowed his attention if you’re not around.” She lifted one side of her mouth in a wry smile. “Image is everything.”

  “When image is all you’ve got, I suppose it is.” He handed her the bag he carried. “I picked up a few things for you. While you change, I’ll fix some breakfast.”

  Esther peeked into the bag and a soft rosy color stained her cheeks. “You thought of everything.”

  He laughed softly at the surprise in her tone. “I hope you don’t mind the liberty, but I thought you’d want to get moving as soon as possible.”

  She stood up and the baggy blue housedress billowed out around her. As if noticing it for the first time, she looked down, then up to Alexander. “It was thoughtful of you. Thanks.” The smile faded, and in her deep brown eyes flickered another emotion—something warm and hungry. She touched his beard with her fingers. “I was so glad to see you this morning. Why did you come?”

  “I thought you might like the company, since your children were leaving.”

  She cocked her head, smiling gently, her pale red hair caressing one cheek. Then she bent from her spot on the step above him and kissed his mouth. “Thank you.”

  He touched her jaw. “You’re quite welcome.”

  When she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, he had just poured the batter for a waffle into the iron, and a skillet full of bacon sizzled on the stove. “Everything fit all right?”

  “Just fine.” She whirled, the skirt of the green dress flaring up around her legs. “This is pretty,” she said with a grin, and touched her chest above the scoop neck. “But I can tell a man picked it out.”

  “It looks good on you,” he returned unapologetically, frankly admiring the modest but enticing swell of white breasts, the dip of her waist, the rounded flesh of her arms. He was pleased to have judged her size so accurately.

  “Thanks.” She lifted a wry eyebrow. “I can’t believe you got my shoes right.”

  “You know, I almost bought a size or two smaller, and I remembered Abe teasing you about your gunboats.”

  She burst out laughing. “Well, I’d love to protest demurely, but you see they’re honestly a size ten. Perfect fit.” She settled at the table. “Can I do anything?”

  “Not at all. I called the school and canceled my classes. Perhaps you ought to make a list of what needs to be done today.”

  “I already did.” She tapped her head. “It’s right here. I’ve got to hire someone to clean up and repair the damage, and get the perishables out of the cooler in the store.” She sighed. “And although it probably can’t get done today, I have to get estimates on the wiring.”

  “Let me put out some feelers among the faculty.” He pulled bacon from the fat
to drain on paper towels. “I seem to remember several people talking about a handyman who does almost everything. They all use him.”

  “Great.”

  He paused, weighing his next words carefully. “Esther, have you given any thought to where you’ll stay?”

  “I really haven’t gotten that far.”

  “Will you stay here?” He met her eyes directly, neither leering nor promising celibacy. He wouldn’t lie and tell her it was only because he was concerned about her—although that was certainly part of it. But he wanted her here under his roof for himself, as well.

  And she met his eyes honestly, offering no false protestations of modesty, nor asking for promises. She glanced at her hands, once, then back to his face. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

  For an instant, the room was filled with the unspoken agreement below their words. The last barriers had been dropped. A magnetic energy sizzled between them, glowed fiercely, then faded back to embers as Alexander calmly smiled. “Good.”

  * * *

  The day was spent estimating and cleaning up. Esther found, to her relief, that the damage was not nearly as terrible as her mind had been conjuring it to be. The ceiling in the dining room was charred and unsafe, and a layer of soot coated almost everything in the rooms adjoining the dining room downstairs. Thanks to a privacy door between the living quarters and the store, none of the merchandise had been damaged.

  Upstairs was the worst of it. At the sight of the boys’ mattresses, charred and half-eaten by the fire that had raged up the wall next to them, she felt nauseous. Everything was soggy—all their toys, the rug, their bedding. It would all have to be replaced. She bent over the bookcase, fearing the worst. Some of the books were rippling with the effect of water, their covers buckling.

  But in typical sloppiness, Esther had not replaced the books she had read to the children the night before. Instead, she had stacked them atop a metal dresser in the corner. She grinned, picking them up. The dustcover of Owl Moon was dotted with water, but other than that, both books were intact. She hugged them to her chest.