Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,49

on my sleeve?”

“Yeah, a little. Want to tell me what happened in the bar? You sounded like you needed to let off a little steam, but then I couldn’t get you out of there fast enough. What changed?”

“I saw the headline in the Gazette.” My shoulders slumped.

It hurts saying it out loud. I feel victimized, tried and found guilty without a chance to defend myself. All the dirty looks from the bar make sense now. It wasn’t my imagination and that makes me want to hightail it out of this damn town. I’m not sure if that’s allowed with this damn arson thing hanging over my head.

The only thing keeping me here is the man sitting across from me. Leaving him, before I have a chance of exploring what’s happening between us, simply isn’t a consideration. For the first time, in a very long time, I want to stay in one place for more than a day.

“Yeah, right,” he says.

“You knew about it?” If so, he should have warned me.

“I didn’t know you made front page news until after you left to use the restroom. Grady mentioned it.”

“So, the whole town knows?”

“Most likely.” The affirmation in his voice scares me.

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?”

“I’ve been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion, which means you’re associating with an arsonist.”

“But you’re not an arsonist.” He gives a shake of his head. “Besides, I don’t care what they think.”

“You’re not worried that hanging out with me might blow back on you?”

This is his town. I’m an interloper, here and gone, but he’ll stay behind and deal with the fallout after I leave.

“No one has the guts to say anything to me. They might be watching and gossiping, but don’t worry. We’re going to sort this out.”

“You’re really not concerned?” He should put as much distance between us as possible. He has a business to run, two businesses, and the whole volunteer firefighting gig on the side.

“I’m one hundred percent not worried. The Gazette is a gossip magazine. Once we figure everything out, everyone will move on to the next juicy bit of news. Don’t let it bother you. And as for being seen with you, I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.”

“Not even your friends?”

“Grady and Grayson trust me. They even offered to help.”

Frustration spills through me. “Honestly, I have no idea what to do. It’s my word against hundreds of acres of scorched earth.”

And no one seems to care about the man who knocked me out. He’s a ghost in the wind, or rather a ghost in the ash.

“We’ll figure it out.” Asher sounds assured of the outcome.

How is he so certain? I know I didn’t do it, but all he has is his faith in me.

I’m scared.

I’m really scared.

14

Evelyn

A yawn escapes me. It’s late and my lack of lodging accommodations is going to be problematic sooner rather than later. A quick internet search reveals very few local hotels. None which come close to anything I consider safe.

Prescott thinks I’m not concerned enough about my safety, but I am. Two motels on the edge of town are quick discards. Their online photos look seedy, more of the rent for an hour kind of place than where I want to spend the night. There’s one hotel near the center of town, but they don’t seem to have internet booking. I’ll have to call them once Asher and I leave the diner.

We finish dinner in relative quiet. An easy silence flows between us with no need to fill it with random words or aimless discussion. As the evening wears on, my curiosity about Asher increases and I dig for information with soft probing questions.

He’s easy to talk to, like an old friend, and forthcoming about La Rouge Vineyards. His animated stories about some of the tourists he’s taken on trail rides leaves me in stitches. His stallion, Knight, who loves to test him, is a character. I love horses. People often underestimate them, but they’re full of personality.

He speaks fondly of George, his foreman, who helps him keep everything working smoothly at the vineyard, and there’s something else I learn. He loves his workers, often working beside them during the harvest, and joining their families for barbecues, birthdays, weddings, and the rare funeral. He’s easy going, fast to smile, and an expressive talker. We laugh more than we talk.

And I let down my guard.

I breathe easier and imagine what such a life might feel like. It sounds wonderful.

Katy