Chapter 29

“What is it?” Christopher asked, pointing in the direction of my farmhouse.

“A fire.” I was alarmed. It was way too early for fire season.

Although the devastating drought had cleared up a bit, the Sierra Nevada foothills were prey to fires much of the year. Usually set off by lightning, they were also the work of arsonists, careless smokers, and mismanaged controlled burns. One year a huge fire was started by a park ranger who was burning love letters from an old beau. Stone Acres had more fire trucks and firefighters than it had bartenders.

“It looks like it’s pretty close to your house,” Henry shouted as he pointed.

It wasn’t close. My house was ablaze.

My heart fell as I watched my past go up in flames.

Christopher took one hand off the steering wheel and started to massage the back of my neck