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27
“The fire came as a shock,” Jena Barthelemy said. “But maybe, on closer look, it was a blessing in disguise.”
“How so?” the reporter asked. Mesmerized by her lilting voice, he’d long stopped taking notes.
Dark eyes full of wisdom held him captive. “Sometimes, it takes almost losing something to realize exactly how important it is to you.”
Anna Kate
My heart pounded as my gaze went to the sky. A skinny plume of black smoke rose above the café.
Gideon took hold of my hand, and we started running. Sirens wailed in the distance.
I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, but Gideon held me steady.
Please let the trees be okay, please, I silently pleaded. The café was a good distance from them, but fires could spread easily. And please let all the mulberry preserves be okay.
Please, let it all be okay. Because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not to the customers who’d become friends, not to the café, and not to Zee’s garden. Not to any of it.
Not yet.
Please, not yet.
Gideon kept tight hold of my hand as we weaved around families and friends on their way to enjoy their night, while I ran toward home.
Home.
Steeling myself, I looked ahead to the café. From afar, it didn’t look like anything untoward had happened, and I half expected to see Mr. Lazenby waiting on my arrival, but the bench in front of the café was empty.
A fire truck idled at the curb, and a small crowd of people had gathered.
I didn’t see any flames or anything unusual at all. The café looked … fine.
“Where’s the fire?” I asked, breathing hard, my lungs stressed from the exercise. I wiped sweat off my face and looked around.
A firefighter, a young man who’d eaten at the café a few times, stepped forward. “It was in the backyard, ma’am. It’s out now. Mr. Boyd saw the flames, and he and a bunch of other birdwatchers banded together to put out the flames using a garden hose and blankets.”
Small towns. I was growing fond of them, too. How else would this firefighter even know Mr. Boyd?
As the young man led us around the café, he added, “Due to their quick actions the damage was limited to the deck.”
The gate was open and as we went through it, my gaze went first to the mulberry trees. Branches waved in the breeze as if telling me they were just fine.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and turned toward the deck. Inky puddles pooled along the pathway and the café’s foundation, and I did my best to dodge them as I carefully inched forward, trying to take it all in.
There was nothing but blistered, blackened blocks of wood where the stairs had once been. The deck itself was blackened, too, but that looked to be more from soot than fire damage. All in all, it wasn’t too bad. The deck and brick could be power-washed. The stairs replaced. I could fix this. It could have been so much worse.
Relieved, I let my gaze wander. That’s when I saw the zucchini plants. I ran over to them and dropped to my knees in front of their remains. There was little left. Charred stems and a wet, soggy pile of ash and sorrow.
I gulped air. They’d been doing so well … thriving, even, giving me so much of themselves. Now this.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered to them, my voice breaking. Tears welled up, then flowed free. I couldn’t stop them.
Not even when I felt someone sit down next to me.
Gideon.
He put his arm around me, pulled me in close to him.
And let me cry.
Gideon handed me a cup of coffee early the next morning. “If you didn’t want to sell the café to me, you should have just said so. You didn’t need to try and burn it down.”
“It’s too soon to joke about it,” I said with a groan and a grimace.
My eyes felt like they’d been rubbed with sandpaper as I looked at the deck. It turned out there had been more damage to the deck than met the eye. The inspector who had come by last night told me I couldn’t reopen the café until the deck was replaced. Something to do with egresses. Honestly, I had tuned him out after he said I couldn’t open.
I’d been wanting a day off, but not like this. I needed to get in touch with the insurance company to see how long it was going to take to file a claim.
Gideon pulled out a stool for me, then went around the kitchen gathering ingredients. “I can only joke because no one was hurt and there was minimal damage.”
“What are you doing?” In the kitchen, other than a smoky scent that reminded me of camping, there was no evidence there’d been a fire at all. None of the soot had made its way into the building, and I was beyond grateful for that small miracle.
A sparkler had been found near the deck, and the investigators had labeled it the cause of the fire. No one knew how it had found its way there, but I had the funny feeling Mr. Cat had dropped it when it had gotten too hot. Why he’d picked it up in the first place, I’d never know. I was glad he hadn’t been hurt—I’d seen him lurking near the mulberry trees earlier this morning.
“Making breakfast. You look like you could use some sustenance.”
“You’re right. I could. Thank you.” It was barely seven in the morning, and I’d hardly slept at all. I tried to think of the last time I’d eaten. It had been early yesterday afternoon. No wonder I was starving. “Just nothing with zucchini, okay?”
With a sad smile, he came over and pressed a kiss on top of my head. “Deal. How about pancakes?”
“Sounds good.”
Gideon measured flour, sugar, and baking powder into a large bowl. I wasn’t surprised he was good in the kitchen, but I hadn’t anticipated how nice it was to watch him cook.
I tried to let go of my worries as I kept an eye on him. “You know you’re making enough to feed an army, right?”
He glanced back at me. “Because I am. I should put some bacon on.”
“I’m hungry but not that—”
The front door swung open and Jena rushed in. She ran right up to me and wrapped me in her arms. “Good Lord, child. You look like you’ve been chewed up and spit out.”
Bow came up behind her and said, “What Jena means to say is we’re real sorry about the fire.”
“That’s exactly what I meant, bless your heart.”
Behind them, more people filed inside. Aubin and Summer, Marcy, Josh, and Cam, and Mr. Boyd along with several other birders. Seelie and Doc and Natalie rounded out the pack.
They were all wearing Blackbird Café T-shirts, and had smiles on their faces and a hammer, saw, or other tool in hand. Seelie’s was a pink tape measure.
My gaze fell on Gideon, who had fired up the griddle. “I’m dreaming, right?”
He said, “About time you finally admitted I’m the man of your dreams. I never thought this day would come.”
Jena faux swooned and fanned herself with her hand, while Bow rolled his eyes at her theatrics.
Faylene came over and put her arm around me. “I knew you and Gideon had something going. Ain’t no man cooks fried chicken just to be friendly.”
“Twice,” Marcy called out.
“Thank you, honey, for reminding me. Twice.” Faylene held up two fingers to emphasize the statement. “Pebbles and Mr. Lazenby send their best. They’re not here, on account of them volunteering to keep the little ones for the day—Summer’s going to go over and lend them a hand after breakfast.”
I squeezed my eyes closed tight, then slowly reopened them, one at a time.
“If you need a pinching, I bet Gideon would volunteer,” Jena said, waggling her eyebrows.
I glanced at him. “Look what you’ve done, Gideon.”
He shrugged. “Jena’s not wrong.”
“What’s going on?” I stood up. “What are all of you doing here?”
“Why, what do you think, child?” Jena said. “We’ve come to tear out the deck and build a new one. It’s not going to build itself.”
“Someone pretty special once told me that many hands make quick work,” Aubin said, his voice carrying.
“Hear, hear,” Bow echoed.
Tears pooled in my eyes. “But the insurance …”
“Pshaw,” Faylene said. “We ain’t got time for that. There’s a café to reopen.”
“But it’ll only be open a few weeks more …”
“Sweetie,” Jena said, “we see how happy you are working here, and we didn’t want you to miss out on that these next few weeks. We love you and want you to be happy. You’re here now and we’re gonna enjoy every minute we can get with you. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Unable to stop myself, I hugged her.
Good God. I’d become a hugger and a ma’am-er. How in the world had this happened?
But..... I knew how.
Wicklow had gotten hold of me but good.
“Group hug!” Faylene yelled, throwing her arms around Jena and me.
Before I knew it, everyone had gathered around, hugging and laughing.
I was so overwhelmed with their love that I barely even noticed the soft brown feather sticking out of Jena’s hair.
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