Hands on her hips, squinting against the afternoon sun, Claire gazed up at the fountain in the center of her courtyard. Above the sound of rushing water she called loudly to Max standing beside her, “If you hurry, you might be able catch the delivery guys before they reach the highway.”
He chuckled. “Trevi Fountain comes to mind.”
“The one in Rome? Nah. Ours isn’t that, uh, big.”
“Or gaudy. There are no mythological gods.”
“Still.”
“Exactly.” He shrugged. “But let’s look on the bright side. It’s not cracked and it’s not on back order.”
“I just didn’t have giant flying sea bass in mind, spurting forth rivers. Just a pleasant, hushed, ambient gurgle.”
“I think they’re Chinook salmon.”
She sighed loudly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“I know. It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll play with the water pressure.” He bent and flipped a switch on the fountain’s side. Sudden silence engulfed the courtyard.
Claire eyed him as he straightened. Mr. Handyman he wasn’t. He’d proven that time and again since they’d started the remodeling project. “Your dad can help, right?”
“Before or after I break something?” Max smiled. “I’ll see if he and Tuyen can lend a hand.”
Claire slipped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. The blossoming relationship between Ben and Tuyen was a beautiful sight. They’d become inseparable that week, since Beth Russell’s visit. Every inch of the Hideaway’s three hundred acres held a memory of BJ that Ben couldn’t wait to tell and Tuyen couldn’t wait to hear. Time and again Claire had come upon them inside the house or courtyard, at the barn or heading out on the horses. Ben would be saying, “I remember when your dad . . .”
“Phone.” Max kissed the top of her head and strode over to the porch where she’d left the cordless. “Nobody would call on a Friday afternoon to plan a Saturday getaway, would they?”
Smiling, she shrugged. As fun and rewarding as their first weeks of company had been, she and Max were anticipating a weekend of empty guest rooms. As a couple, they were overdue for some alone time.
Word was spreading quickly in local circles that the Hacienda Hideaway was open for business. Still winging it policy-wise, they hadn’t yet decided how much lead time they needed for a reservation. Literally speaking, the place was ready. Fresh linens were in place. The freezers were stocked with some of Skylar’s goodies.
Max picked up the phone, checking the ID display. “It’s Erik.” He answered it. “Hey . . . What . . . No . . . Yeah . . . Hold on. Claire, do you know what Danny was doing today?”
She heard the hesitation in his voice and walked over to him, shaking her head.
Max said, “There’s an antiwar demonstration.”
Claire tried not to read panic in his widened eyes. He knew as well as she did that Danny attended those things when he had the time. Growing up with an MIA uncle, their son adopted at a young age a deep compassion for soldiers and a deep distrust of reasons for war.
Max said, “Erik, we don’t know . . . Okay, yeah. Thanks, son.” He clicked off the phone, his face creased into a tight frown. “We need to turn on the news. There was an explosion just moments ago.”
“Oh, Max!”
“It appears it happened outside a church. The TV crews were already there for the demonstration. And Rosie’s there.”
“He talked to her?”
“No. She’s not answering her cell and neither is Danny. She told Erik last night about her assignment. She said they were expecting some problems.”
“Is anyone hurt?”
“Some people inside the church. Apparently the demonstrators weren’t at that spot right then.”
“So Danny would be okay?” She was clutching his hands.
“It sounds—”
“But Rosie—”
“Is trained for this sort of thing. Let’s go inside and turn on the TV. The news is covering—”
Claire cried out. Her breath felt ripped from her chest. In the recesses of her imagination she heard the echo of a wind.
“Sweetheart, God is with them. They are in His hands.”
“Oh, Max!” Sudden tears streamed down her face.
He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
She could not have spoken if she had to, but Max knew what was going on inside her. In a few days, they would mark the first anniversary of the devastating fire that tore through the estate and emotionally scarred them all horribly. With the approaching date, she had been on edge, grateful for so many positive outcomes but reliving fear-filled moments.
She and Max had talked again of his experience, how he survived that long night not knowing if his family was alive or dead.
Like . . . Ben and Indio with BJ. One long night that lasted thirty-four years.
Oh, God! There’s too much pain. Just too much. How are we supposed to do this? Live in this world of hurt?
Max’s voice reached her, calm, soft, steady. He was praying.
After a bit, her tears slowed, her lungs filled with oxygen, her faith in Someone else’s control put down a new root.
Claire, we know where everyone else is.” Max pulled a polo shirt over his head. Behind him a commentator on the television described a scene full of emergency vehicles.
“I just need to hear their voices.” She looped a belt around her tunic top while sliding her feet into sandals. Her jeans and boots lay in a heap. “Right now.”
“Before we leave? Not from the cell phone when we get down the hill?”
Yes, right now! Again and again she tried poking the belt prong into a hole. It kept missing. Lord, don’t let him quit on me. Please don’t let him quit on me.
Max gently pushed her hands from the belt and buckled it for her. “I’ll dial the numbers for you.”
She gave him a small smile. “I don’t think we can reach Skylar.”
“Skylar’s on your list too?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
He kissed her cheek. “We can’t get Dad and Tuyen, either, you know. They’re out on the horses. Mom first?”
She nodded and they sat on the couch.
They talked briefly with Indio, who was in her house down the road. Her prayers, of course, were set in motion.
Lexi was at the office of the landscape firm where she worked part-time now that they needed her help on the hacienda grounds. Claire let Max break the news to Lexi and then she spoke with her.
“Hon—”
“Mom! Danny’s there! He told me he was going.” More resolution than panic filled her voice. “But don’t worry. He’s all right. I know it.”
“The twin thing?”
“Yeah. With some faith thrown in too. I’m leaving right now. I’ll catch up with you down there.”
Max called Jenna’s high school and was put on hold. He clasped Claire’s hand. When a male voice came on, she could hear most of what he was saying.
“Mr. Beaumont, Cade Edmunds here. We just heard the news. Um, Jenna, um . . .”
Claire had met Cade Edmunds a few times. The man did not say “um.” Her stomach twisted.
“Uh, um, there was a funeral at that church.”
They knew that. They’d heard that on the news. A Marine . . . A Marine.
No.
“Jenna and another teacher went . . . went to the funeral. I’ve been calling . . .”
Claire was out the door before Max hung up the phone.