Angel Fire (8 page)

“What?” she asked as she flipped through a few more articles of my clothing.

I chewed on my lip. “I kind of invited someone to go along. I hope that’s all right.”

“All right?” Beth practically shrieked for joy. “That’s great! That’s the Darcy I know and love. Not in town a week and you’ve already got them lining up.”

“Shut up! It’s nothing serious. Just a guy I met the other night, a guest here. Well, actually, he’s moving to town. Moved. He got hired as the new fire chief. Or he will be.” I hated it when I was tongue-tied.

“Oh ho! You move quick. Gotta be careful around you. Do tell.” Beth held another blouse up to me to see if it would match. She tossed that one and searched for a more suitable candidate.

“Well, nothing much to tell,” I said. Then added in a lower voice, “He was here when Barry came in.”

Beth frowned. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And he saw the entire fight.”

“You must have been devastated,” she said, reaching out for my arm. Then she brightened. “But he still agreed to go out with you? He must have it bad for you!” She teased me with a scandalous look.

“Would you
stop?”
She had an uncanny ability to make me blush at the drop of a hat.

“Never.” Beth laughed and held up the final selection against my shoulders. “That’s the one. Now we just need to accessorize.” She waved at my robe. “Get out of that rag.”

* * *

Outside, dressed to the nines, I started to feel like a person again. Was this what normal felt like? John stuck his head out the window of the minivan and whistled a catcall.

Beth barked out, “John, quit being such an ass,” but she was smiling when she said it. I blushed despite myself, pleased at the compliment.

John glanced at something behind us, and Beth and I turned as one.

“Meow,” Beth commented. And when John opened his mouth to protest, she said, “Love you, babes!” But her attention, and mine, was on Neil.

In an obvious attempt to blend in with the local population, he wore a western shirt, tight blue jeans and a belt buckle. If he had worn a cowboy hat and boots, I probably would have laughed, but I found myself holding my breath as he sauntered our way. His playful smile faltered when he saw us staring.

“What? Too much?” asked Neil.

Beth raised her eyebrows. “Not at all! You must be Neil.” She held her hand out and they shook. “I’m Beth.”

“Please to meet you.” Neil took a step to the side and shook John’s hand.

“That’s my husband, John. He’s an accountant.”

“Heya,” John said by way of greeting. “You new in town, or passing through?”

Beth exclaimed, “John, don’t you have any couth?”

John made an innocent face. “What?”

Neil laughed. “Just moved here,” he said to John. “I’ll be working for the fire department.”

“Excellent!” said John “I do the accounting for them. I’m at the fire hall at least once a week. Great group of guys there.”

Beth gave me a knowing glance. “Well, if you two boys can tear yourselves away from each other, we should get going.”

Everyone piled into the minivan.

Chapter Twelve

I thought I
was ready for it. I had three staunch supporters to back me up, but the moment I stepped into the bar, the overly loud music from the live band stopped me short.

The crowd pressed in on me, and a dozen heads turned in my direction, their looks hostile and accusing. A few people yelled at me. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere besides The Trough, but Beth grabbed my shoulders and firmly guided me all the way inside the bar.

“It’s all right,” she said. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I had to remind myself that I was in control, and nothing could affect me. My reintegration counselor had told me there might be times like these. I just had to take a mental step back and assess the situation objectively. Letting out my breath, I forced myself to relax and smile.

Once I was back in control, I looked around again. Now those people looking at me wore smiles rather than grimaces, I saw. The yells were shouts of greetings. The counselor had been right: it was just my insecurity and imagination getting the better of me.

“Come on,” said Beth. “Let’s go say hello.”

She grabbed me by the wrist and led me toward a group of our former high school classmates.

I shook hands with Arlene Kent, who had sat in front of me in algebra and occasionally let me peek at her homework. She introduced me to her husband, Willem Nelson. Back then, he had been on the football team; now he was balding and sported a hefty waistline. He told me he’d bought the used car dealership in town, and handed me his card. I thought he was a jerk back then, and my opinion of him hadn’t improved over time.

Francine Messerly was one of those girls who flounced when they walked. In junior high, she had always volunteered for the spirit club and decoration committee. I found out she was twice divorced.

“I’m at a point in my life where I’m very happy to be single,” she told me. Her eyes, however, continually scanned the crowd; I assumed looking for new marriage prospects.

After a few more meets and greets, I began to loosen up. Now John and Neil were the ones looking out of place. John was a few years older than Beth and didn’t know her friends very well; and Neil, of course, didn’t know anyone.

Once the novelty of me wore off, I shouted to the three of them above the din, “Maybe we should get a table or something.”

Beth nodded and motioned for John to arrange it. With his bulk, he pushed through the crowd and we found an unoccupied table.

Neil pulled a chair out for me. I blushed and muttered a thank you that he couldn’t possibly hear.

Beth leaned over to me. “See, wasn’t so bad. Everyone was happy to see you. Only a few bad apples in the barrel.”

A waitress appeared. “What can I get you?”

John called out, “Beer! Bring a jug. First round’s on me.”

“Not for me,” I said. “Against the rules.”

I smiled up at the waitress. “Just water for me.”

John glanced at Neil, who nodded and said, “I’ll get the next round.”

“You got it.”

Beth tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned, she pointed at a middle-aged woman I recognized talking to a much younger man I didn’t.

“Check out Mrs. Haverstad,” Beth jeered at our old high school social teacher. I could hear the woman’s laughter from across the noisy bar. “Or should I say, ‘Ms.’ Haverstad.”

I raised my brows. “What, she got divorced from Bill?”

Beth nodded. “Yup. Dumped her like yesterday’s trash. Now she’s turned into the town cougar. Shameless.” She pointed to another woman. “Oh, there’s Charlotte Baker. You remember her?”

I remembered throwing up on her five-hundred-dollar shoes at a bush party when I was seventeen. After that, I don’t think we spoke more than two words the rest of high school.

“I’m not her favorite person,” I said.

“She’s in my spinning class. I’m going to go over and say hi. Wanna come?”

“Uh,” I said uncertainly. “Maybe another time.”

Beth flashed a smile and, with a wink, sashayed in Charlotte’s direction.

John and Neil were already well into the get-to-know-each-other phase.

“How long you been a firefighter?” John asked Neil.

“Going on fifteen years now. Joined up right after high school.”

John nodded. “Must be pretty exciting.”

The waitress arrived with a tray of frosted glasses and a pitcher of beer. She set them down on the table as John counted out the bill and a generous tip.

“Thanks, sugar,” she said to John. I could have sworn she was looking at Neil, though.

John poured the beer and the two raised their glasses in salute. Neil only sipped while John downed his in one long pull.

“I couldn’t do anything like that,” John said as he poured himself another. “Too much excitement. I like safe and quiet. An accountant’s life is stable and predictable; just the way I like it.”

To my ears, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

“So,” John said to Neil, “what made you decide to become a firefighter?”

“Long story—”

A hush settled over the other end of the bar.

“Oh, shit,” I said, and my stomach twisted when I glanced in that direction. The feeling of camaraderie I had started to enjoy disappeared in an instant.

Barry, Frank and Troy swaggered into The Trough like they owned the place.

“What?” Neil followed my gaze, and lowered his brows. He put a hand on my arm, and that simple gesture helped to center me.

The bartender, old Jack Creel, came out from behind the counter and motioned for the three of them to leave. Looking at Jack, you would think he’d get knocked over by a stiff breeze, but despite his age and lanky physique, he was fast and vicious in a fight, often taking down men twice his size.

I couldn’t hear what they said, but I could guess. I knew Barry, and I knew he could be charming and disarming when he wanted to. He put his bandaged hands up in an ‘I don’t want to make trouble’ gesture and smiled like a saint.

Jack shook his head, but after they exchanged more words, he finally shrugged and returned to his barkeeping duties. Barry and his friends found a table at the other side of the dance floor. I knew he knew I was there, though he studiously avoided looking in my direction while he found his seat. Just a good old boy, he ordered a round of drinks from the waitress who floated by. Frank cracked a joke, and all three laughed.

“Darcy, you’re going to bust a nail.” I glanced up at Beth, who had returned to the table. She was looking at my hands, which were clutching the edge of the table so hard my knuckles were white.

I forced myself to relax my grip. “Maybe we should leave. This was a bad idea.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Beth. “We have just as much right to be here as he does.”

I wrung my hands. “I don’t know.”

“I do. There’s no way you’re getting out of here without a fight, princess.” Beth gave Neil a playful smack on the arm. “If you don’t ask her to dance soon, I’ll make you dance with me. I warn you, I have high heels and no sense of rhythm.”

Neil blushed a deep red, and suddenly the tension drained from me. His embarrassment made me like him more. At the same time, I felt more than a little self-conscious.

“Beth,” I admonished her. “I’m not sure—”

“I warned you. If you don’t dance with him, I will!” She grabbed Neil by the wrist and pulled him out of his seat. With a helpless look on his face, he let Beth drag him to the dance floor. Joining the few other couples already attempting a line dance, the two fell into position and, with only a few missteps, got into the swing of things.

John leaned over to me, his eyes full of laughter. “Are you going to help me make my wife jealous? Come on!”

I took a sip of water and stood. “Absolutely.”

“Yeah! That’s more like it.”

We stepped into line and followed along. It was like I had sea legs, and I’m sure I looked like an idiot, but for a few minutes all my cares drained away. I was surprised to hear my own laughter.

John spun me around. I almost lost my balance, but Beth grabbed me before I spilled over into someone’s table.

“You home wrecker!” she called out to me with a smile. “Give me my husband back!”

I laughed, and Beth and I switched positions. I partnered up with Neil. He was grinning like a fool, obviously enjoying himself.

The band ended the song on a high note, and immediately started a waltz. I took a step back toward the table, but Neil took my hand and pulled me in for a slow dance.

I closed my eyes, burying my head in Neil’s chest and basked in the security of his embrace. The rhythm of the music and the ebb and sway of our dancing was hypnotizing, and I felt all my cares drain away.

When Neil was suddenly wrenched away from me, I cried out in surprise. It took me a few moments to get my wits about me.

“That’s my wife you’re dancing with, bastard!” Barry, his fists clenched, had murder in his eyes as he stared Neil down.

My shock instantly turned to rage. “I’m not your wife anymore, Barry. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

He pointed an accusing finger at me. “We took a vow. And like the man said, you’re mine until death do us part. Now you’re going to dance with me and you’re going to like it.” With that, he reached out to grab my arm.

Lightning quick, Neil deflected his advance and then followed up with a strong shove.

“You heard the lady,” he said. “She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

Barry smiled disarmingly and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. From experience, I knew what was coming next and called out a warning. Neil had already dropped his guard though, and Barry lashed out with a brutal roundhouse to Neil’s jaw, sending him flying back against the crowd that had gathered to watch.

“Neil!” I cried, but before I could run over to see if he was all right, Barry backhanded me across the face. Stars exploded in my head. The blow didn’t quite knock me off my feet, and I caught myself and stood my ground.

“That’s for disrespecting me, bitch!” Barry said.

I put my hand to my burning cheek and narrowed my eyes at him. A tingling sensation started at the tips of my fingers and spread inch by inch up through my hands. My stomach cramped; the power wanted out. At that point, I
wanted
to release it. The air around me crackled and I could feel the hairs on my arm stand up.

The temperature in the room was rising, but no one seemed to notice: all eyes were on the unfolding drama.

“You wipe that look off your face,” Barry said through clenched teeth, “or I’ll wipe it off for you.”

I vibrated with the effort to retain control.

A beer bottle shattered in someone’s hand, and a woman gasped as her martini boiled in her hand. Several more drinks exploded or fell to the ground and smashed.

People exclaimed, but no one had any idea I was the cause.

Halfway across the room, a man leaped out of his chair with a curse, a tendril of smoke curling from his suddenly overheated backrest.

Neil was on his feet and rushed to put himself between Barry and me.