“CAN I OFFER you a ride?” A man’s deep voice broke through Brooke Ellis’s stupor.
Brooke squeezed Luna’s dog leash and tried to squeeze a sense of composure through herself.
Why were simple questions the hardest?
Maybe they’d always been hard and that was why Brooke had chosen to live alone in the mountains of Northern California for the past five years.
Until two days ago.
Exactly fifty-two hours earlier, a wildfire had ripped through the forest, forced Brooke and her neighbors to evacuate and destroyed lives.
Brooke turned in her gravel driveway and stared at the older gentleman watching her from inside an oversize pickup truck.
He smiled and repeated his question, “Do you need a ride someplace?”
She stepped closer, found patience in his kind gaze and her answer. “I have no place to go.”
He got out of his truck and walked toward her—he was wearing a volunteer fire-and-rescue jacket. The man may have been older, but he towered over Brooke by at least a foot and seemed to understand his height might make her guarded. He knelt and held his hand out for Luna to sniff. “There’s a shelter set up in town. I could drop you off there.”
Brooke indicated the two pet carriers near her feet. Archie, her one-year-old cat, slept in one. The veterinarian hospital had to evacuate its patients and he’d been sent home too soon after his abdominal surgery. Inside the other carrier, Cupid meowed. “The shelter reached capacity last night and I have pets with special needs.”
“Do you have family nearby?” Luna rolled over onto her back, encouraging the man to rub her belly. He obliged the large but gentle German shepherd with a soft grin. “I could take you to a relative’s place.”
Another simple question. The answer wasn’t so easy. Brooke managed a quick shake of her head, enough to knock the tears back down inside her.
All she had left of her life was in a large black garbage bag beside her. The family members she had were the four-legged ones surrounding her. She clutched Luna’s long leash as if the leather anchored her.
The man rubbed his chin and stared at the blackened landscape behind her. Her house was nothing more than ash. Only the axle remained of her truck. The old diesel had refused to turn over and guide her to safety two nights ago. She’d had enough time to grab her animals and the one garbage bag from the truck bed, and cram into the waiting police cruiser. The roaring winds and fire-breathing sky had chased the police car down the mountain to the evacuation site.
“Do you have any plans?” the gentleman asked.
Brooke stared across the street at the decimated hillside. All her plans had been here. On the land. With her animals. Why had she hitched a ride back here when deep down she’d known? “I never imagined. I never planned for...” She lost her voice.
The same way she’d lost her voice five years ago. Only, then she’d been standing in the cemetery in San Francisco County. Beside her husband’s grave. The scent of roses and gardenias had been in the air. The grass under her black heels green. The sky a brilliant blue.
Now the air was gray. Ash shifted around them like singed snowflakes.
Nothing was the same except that insistent punch to her gut.
She’d rebuilt her life on this mountain. Wept against the old oaks, screamed her frustration to the sky, cursed Fate and slowly reconstructed her world bit by bit. Day by day.
How many times could one person rebuild? Did she even have the strength? Luna sat up and nudged her head under Brooke’s palm as if lending Brooke support.
“I lived almost thirty years in these mountains.” Sadness shifted through the man’s low voice. “This is the worst I’ve seen.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” Brooke spoke to the sooty air. She’d discovered years ago that Fate had a bad habit of refusing to answer.
“I can’t let you stay here. My wife, rest her soul, would be highly disappointed in me.” The man pulled out his cell phone and tapped on the screen. “They’ve opened another evacuation center. Let me take you there.”
“I’m just a stranger.” And she felt more and more lost—like she’d misplaced a part of herself—every second she stood there.
“Strangers don’t exist in moments like these.” He rose and held out his hand. “I’m Rick Sawyer.”
“Brooke Ellis.” She shook his hand, grateful for his firm grip. It steadied her.
“Well, Brooke, how about we get you and your pets someplace safe?”
Brooke nodded. The shelter would have water and a place to sit. Maybe if she sat, she’d find a clear thought. Surely one clear thought would lead to another. Then another. Perhaps by sunrise, she’d find a plan.
Rick picked up the pet carriers and walked to the truck. Brooke lifted her garbage bag and whistled for Luna to follow.
The devastation outside the truck windows—on every street they drove on—clogged her throat and stole her words. Brooke concentrated on breathing. And repeated to herself that she had her life and her pets. That was more than enough. Fortunately, Rick looked as lost in his own thoughts as Brooke. Neither of them seemed inclined to carry on a conversation.
Too many miles of scorched land later, Rick pulled into the community-center parking lot and helped Brooke with her pets and single bag of belongings.
“Hey, Captain.” An older woman with a baseball cap and orange volunteer vest sat at a folding table outside the community-center entrance.
“Evening, Darla.” Rick motioned to Brooke beside him. “Have room for one more and her fur family of three?”
“I’m so sorry, dear.” Darla’s frown amplified the apology in her tone. “The animal rooms are full. They evacuated Cedar Ridge and Pine View Estates two hours ago. We’ve already overextended capacity with the last family of ten that just checked in.”
“Can I camp on the lawn?” Brooke had spent two nights at the other site outside in a borrowed tent. She’d returned the tent to the family as more of their displaced relatives had arrived for shelter.
“We ran out of tents this afternoon.” Darla shuffled her paperwork.
Rick rubbed his chin. “Heard of any open hotel rooms?”
Darla shook her head. “The hotels that haven’t been evacuated are full with residents from the nursing homes.”
Brooke swayed. Numbness, rather than panic, seized her.
“Certainly, we can find someplace.” Uncertainty flickered through Darla’s small attempt at a smile.
“We’ve got an empty in-law apartment at my son’s house and a grandson who loves animals,” Rick offered. “You’re welcome to use the place.”
They were all barely on a first-name basis. How could he open his own house to her? Just like that. Besides, Brooke helped herself. Relied on herself.
“If you aren’t going to take the captain up on his offer, honey, I have quite a few families inside that will.” Darla dipped her head toward the building. “They’d love a hot shower and their own bedroom tonight.”
“I just...” Brooke began.
Darla adjusted the brim of her hat and squinted at Brooke. “Are you alone, honey?”
Brooke nodded.
Darla never hesitated. She rounded the table and clutched Brooke’s cold hands. “I’ve got nine fire stations in the county and over one hundred firefighters who will vouch for Captain Sawyer and his family. The Sawyers are good people, honey. The kind you don’t find much anymore. You’ll be safe with them.”
“Appreciate the endorsement, Darla.” Rick looked at Brooke. “We’re just a hardworking family that likes to help when we can.”
“Your son won’t mind?” Brooke asked.
Rick shook his head. “We discussed it when the fires broke out. The place is yours if you want it.”
“Or I’ll offer it up inside.” Darla squeezed Brooke’s fingers and whispered, “Take the offer.”
Simple kindness was a rare gift. Hard to repay, but Brooke intended to try. “I can pay rent. I promise I won’t stay long.”
Darla gave Brooke’s hands one more encouraging squeeze and released her.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Rick hugged Darla and told her that he’d be back within the next day.
“Take this for her.” Darla handed Rick a packet of paperwork and a small bag. “It’s an overnight-essentials kit and a checklist for what to do after a fire.”
Brooke settled the pet carriers in Rick’s truck and climbed into the front passenger seat. “You’re a captain?”
“Retired fire captain.” Rick switched on her seat heater. “I worked at Station Twelve for most of my career.”
That explained why he was in the area, volunteering and helping people like Brooke.
“Retirement took me off the mountain and in a new direction,” he said.
“Do you miss living on the mountain?” she asked.
“I miss nature’s quiet solitude, but I love being with my grandson and son.” Rick pulled out of the parking lot. “After my wife passed, it never felt the same up here.”
Brooke wondered if she’d ever feel the same again. Normal again. Nothing felt familiar, not even her worn running shoes and old sweatshirt.
Her muscles unknotted against the warm seat and forced a yawn out of her. She mumbled an apology and tried to swallow her next yawn.
“Might as well settle in.” Rick turned onto the ramp for the interstate. “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”
Brooke rubbed her eyes. “I never did ask where your son’s place is.”
“San Francisco,” Rick said. “Far enough so you can breathe in some fresh air and gather your thoughts.”
Brooke stiffened. Rick was wrong. So very wrong.
She couldn’t think in the city. She couldn’t breathe in the city. Not since...
“I can’t.”
She turned toward Rick, intending to tell him to take her back to the shelter.
“It may look impossible now.” His hand, warm and gentle, settled over hers. “But everything looks better after a good night’s sleep.”
A good night’s sleep. Brooke hardly remembered what that felt like. Most days she felt like she hadn’t slept in years. She closed her eyes. Concentrated on the quiet truck cab and the comfort in Rick’s simple touch. She was returning to the city. To a stranger’s house. To a past she never wanted to face again.
She’d stay the night and leave first thing in the morning.