Her dad stopped midsentence, the light in his eyes dimmed. Mom shot her a disappointed look, and she instantly felt ashamed. Bad daughter.
“Very impressive,” Dabney said, saving the day. Rich, landowning, and in possession of a timber business that employed a goodly number of Sierra Falls townspeople, he was the town’s resident benefactor. Dabney was something of a silver fox, too, in his convertible Jaguar and Italian driving loafers. “Damien tells me you got yourself quite a deal.”
“I hear you have the sheriff to thank for it.” Phoebe caught her eye and gave her a sad smile. Her next words were whispered for her ears alone. “He’d best be as good as he sounds, Sorrow. You were supposed to marry my Damien, you know.”
But her husband had overheard. Dabney came over and wrapped an arm around Sorrow. “If that man doesn’t treat you right, I’ll have to go over there with a shotgun and see that he does.”
She laughed, relieved that it was out in the open. “It’s not like that. I mean…we had one date, that wasn’t even really a date, and…”
A trickle of black smoke was the only warning they got. The oven door jumped as a fireball exploded to life, a boom followed by a raging, roaring blaze.
The kitchen exploded with screams. She felt a body pummel into hers. It was Damien, shielding her body with his.
“Get out of the kitchen,” he yelled. Turning to his father, he shouted, “Get them out of the kitchen.”
Edith pulled the faucet hose from the sink, and Damien pushed away from Sorrow to grab the woman’s hand. “No! No water!”
“What the hell, boy?” Bear muscled across the room, grabbing for the faucet.
“It’s grease.” Flames licked up the back wall, the fire no longer contained in the oven. Damien squinted at the blaze, covering his nose and mouth with his hand, and barked out orders. “Call 911. Sorrow, fire extinguisher.”
Everyone fled the kitchen, and Sorrow was across the room and back in an instant with the extinguisher. Damien snatched it from her and sprayed. Black smoke filled the kitchen as the fire alarm keened shrilly.
Coughs racked her, and Damien shot her an angry look. “Get out of here.”
She shook her head. Struggling for breath, she grabbed their restaurant-sized bag of baking soda, but by that time the fire was out. She dumped it on the stovetop anyway, her body shaking with adrenaline.
Damien scooped her in his arms and half walked, half carried her to the dining area. They saw everyone standing in a cluster outside, shivering and talking a blue streak. He stopped her. “I need a minute.”
“You and me both.” Through the window, her dad’s expression was as black as the smoke had been. “Guess who’s going to get the blame for this.”
Damien tipped her chin to face him. “I’ll talk to him.” He smudged soot from her cheek. “See, I’m good to have around, right?”
She went on alert—she’d need to tread carefully here. “I never said you weren’t.”
Damien’s voice was husky as he slowly leaned down, bringing his face to hers. “So can I get you to come to your senses?”
Apparently he hadn’t gotten the original message after all. Sorrow put a gentle hand on his chest and stepped back. “Damien, I’m sorry. It’s still over.”
“C’mon, Bailey. You know we’re good together.” He chucked her chin, as though she were being willingly unruly. “You need me, huh? Just a little?” His voice was teasing and light, and he wore his trademark grin, but now she saw how it masked something—Damien Simmons wasn’t as confident as he made himself appear.
“I need you,” she said. “As my friend.”
His eyes shuttered. “You’ve already hooked up with Billy, haven’t you?”
“Hooked up?” She prayed her voice hadn’t squeaked.
As though in answer, Billy stormed through the door. The lights on his SUV were a red and blue strobe flashing on the tavern walls. His gaze went from Sorrow, to Damien, to Damien’s hands on her shoulders.
At that moment, the sheriff looked eager to address Damien’s question with his fists.
Twenty-nine
When the call went out over the radio—fire at the Thirsty Bear Tavern—fear exploded in Billy’s chest. A horrific picture came to him—a bloodied body lying in the dirt, lovely limbs broken and twisted. His heart pounded, so hard he felt it slamming in his throat, choking him. Because, instead of seeing Keri’s face like all those other times, this time he saw Sorrow’s.
He’d suspected the depth of his feelings for her, but such a blast of panic and longing galvanized those feelings, illuminating the truth as bright as a lighting flash. He loved her.
He sped dangerously fast, beating the volunteer fire department to the punch. He had to get to her. They’d called only for the fire truck, not the ambulance, but he had to see for himself that she was safe.
It was clear now. Someone was terrorizing the Bailey family. She was in danger—they all were. If a fire didn’t make Bear see the truth, he didn’t know what would.
But when he charged in and found Sorrow’s ex holding her, fear turned to fury.
He wanted to tear the guy’s hands off her. Wanted to scoop her up and carry her from harm, away from this other man. He had to take her and have her to himself, someplace safe where he’d peel off every layer of her clothing to make sure every inch of her was unharmed.
Urgency boiled his blood, so powerful the desire to show Sorrow how much he wanted her, needed her. She’d snuck up on him, breathed life back into him, until the urge to tell her he loved her blinded him to all else.
It took everything he had to measure his step. He was in uniform, after all.
He flexed his hands—he would not physically remove this other man—but to his tremendous relief, Sorrow pushed from Damien and flew into his arms.
He wrapped himself around her, running his hands over her hair, along her back, up her sides. Let people think what they would. He had to check for himself that she was whole. His heart was thundering so hard, he felt certain she must’ve felt it reverberate through her own chest. “Are you okay?”
At her weak nod, he pulled her closer. He met Damien’s eye. It was an adolescent thing to do, this urge to claim his woman, but he couldn’t help himself. He met Damien’s scowl with satisfaction, pulled her closer, nestled her head beneath his hand. Mine.
“What happened?” Billy demanded.
The door blew open, and Bear repeated the question, though more colorfully. “What in the goddamn hell happened in there?”
“Grease fire,” Damien said. His expression was remote now. He was the sort of guy who’d need to save face at all costs.
Bear glared at his daughter. “I knew your cooking was a bad idea.”
She tried to push from Billy, and though he loosened his arms, he refused to lose contact altogether. He would not let her face this alone.
“It wasn’t my fault,” she said. He heard the faintest tremble in her voice, and it nearly broke his heart. “Grease fires happen all the time.”
“Not in my restaurant.”
Billy cut the man off. It had been just one coincidence too many around the Bailey place. “I can’t believe this was an accident.”
The SFFD fire chief, Mike Haskell, burst in.
Damien spoke up. “It’s okay, Mike. Sorrow and I put it out.”
Billy was anxious to hear that story. He gave Damien a grudging nod of thanks.
Mike sniffed the air. “Trying to burn down the place, Bear?”
The fire chief’s good humor did nothing to dispel Bear’s glowering. “No, but my daughter is.”
“It wasn’t my fault.” Sorrow turned to Billy, a pleading look in her eyes. “This wasn’t my fault.”
He ran the facts through his head. He knew Sorrow, and he knew Sully, too. They weren’t careless. He’d seen one dangerous incident too many around the Big Bear Lodge and Thirsty Bear Tavern.
“Sorrow’s right,” Billy said emphatically. “This wasn’t her fault.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Scott Jessup pull into the lot in the old Parks Department Bronco. His friend was a volunteer firefighter in addition to his job as a ranger, and he’d be glad to have him there. Sorrow needed all the friendly faces she could get. “Something else has got to be going on here.”
“Not with your theories again, Sheriff.” Bear turned to scowl at his daughter. “I told you I didn’t want you to cook. First you break the freezers and now this.”
“I did not break the freezers.”
Scott walked in the door and, sensing the tension, got a look on his face that was one part wary and one part bemused. “I hear you’ve got barbequed kitchen on the menu.”
Bear looked like his head might explode, and Mike took the hint. He met Scott’s eye. “Greetings, Ranger. About time you showed up. How about we have a look-see in the kitchen? Seems like these nice folks have some things to work out.” He patted Bear’s shoulder as he headed to the kitchen. “We’ll leave you be.”
Laura burst in. “I hear Sorrow burned down the kitchen!”
Billy shot her a warning look.
To his surprise, it seemed to have some effect, because she went to Sorrow and, looking cowed, squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Seriously, are you okay?”
She nodded, but her dad cut her off before she could speak. “Yeah,” he said, “but my kitchen’s not.”
“I didn’t do anything to your kitchen,” Sorrow said, and Billy was hugely impressed at how well she was doing under the pressure.
“Sully’s been cooking in there for over twenty years and he’s never had a fire.”
Mike leaned on the pass-through and called out, “It was a grease fire, sure enough. Must’ve had some drippings on the bottom of the oven.”
Bear’s eyes narrowed, but Sorrow cut him off before he could speak. “No way. There is no way this is my fault. I keep a spotless kitchen.”
